#clark kent fic

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Title: Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K+

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Warnings: dacryphilia, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up babes), creampie, spit kink (for like two seconds), Reader being a brat

A/N: This has been a plot bunny that sat in my Google Docs while all my other works got attention. Did I really just write a 5+1? Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

Clark Kent was a simple man, for the most part. He had preferences, sure. But he knew what he liked, and went for those things more often than not. One of his preferences was a certain kind of woman. 

And you were that kind of woman. His Sunflower.

The perfect combination of submissive and strong-willed. What others may call bratty, Clark would call “a little feisty” and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

And that is where Clark was anything but simple. He was your Dominant, you were his submissive. He loved you, he provided for you, and he kept you safe. He kissed the ground you walked on, he broke you, and he put you back together.

The first time you met Clark Kent was in the break room of the Daily Planet. 

You were an intern for the summer, just working to get some credits toward your journalism degree. You weren’t all that interested in going to warzones and reporting on drug lords and shit. You wanted to tell stories about starving artists and activism. You wanted to surprise people with your ability to capture the essence of someone’s emotion and relate it to the reader’s own experiences.

While doing your writing at work, while you were supposed to be doing whatever Lois Lane threw at you this morning, you decided to take a break to recharge. Since energy drinks gave you the jitters, you opted for a warm-ish mug of hours-old coffee.

As you reached up to the cabinet to get a mug, you watched as a hand appears above you to grab the handles of two mugs. You turned, following the hand, to see who reached over you. Eyes blue like the Atlantic Ocean behind a pair of plain black rectangular frames looked back at you. You can’t help but smile at him as he beamed, bright enough to illuminate your entire day.

And your writer’s brain was getting way ahead of itself already. Who the hell was this mountain of a man? I wonder what his lips taste like. Should that tie go with that shirt? Fuck, did he just ask me something?

“I’m sorry, what?” You shook yourself out of your thoughts.

“I asked if you wanted the black or the flower mug. I was gonna offer the flower. But I’d rather not assume you didn’t wanna just take the plain one. So, I’m gonna stop talking and let you answer.” 

Fuck, he’s cute when he rambles.

“Sunflowers are my favorite.” He offered the mug and your fingers touch and you’re glad that you are the only two in the break room.

“Clark,” he says, as he poured himself some coffee, “Clark Kent.”

You gave your name and he put out a hand to shake yours. With your hand in his, you notice how it engulfed your own. You thought to yourself about that hand around your throat. Just lightly squeezing the sides of your neck, as a warning.

“Nice to meet you. I hope Lois has been easy on you. She can be a little…much.” He said it in a way that lead you to believe he’s been on the demanding end of Lois more than once.

“Eh, she’s alright. I mean, Ms. Lane is just fine.” You tried to cover your disdain for Lois. In reality, you saw her as a ‘Pick-Me’, but you tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah, sure she is. I dated her, so I know her pretty well. Not that I should be saying anything. But, don’t let her try and get in your head. She’ll use whatever she can to get a scoop, whether in the field or the workplace. She’s a great journalist, but-” You cut him off, not wanting to take part in putting down another woman.

“I think I get the hint. Watch my back around her.” You assure him you understood as you poured your coffee and put in some cream and sugar.

“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t talk about her behind her back. That was rude of me. My mother would be disappointed in me for that.” He looked into his mug, and you saw that he was not proud of himself for putting down his ex.

“It’s all good, Clark. I can tell you didn’t mean anything by it. Emotions are tricky, ya know?” You don’t know why you wanted to give him an ‘out’, but you did.

“That, they are. I better get back. See ya around,” He gave a cute little wave and exited the room.

The first time Clark Kent called you Sunflower happened about a month after your first meeting. 

The two of you ended up together on a test run for Perry to see how you go about working with other reporters. He probably just wanted to see if I could share a byline.

You could tell that Lois saw a tenacity in you that reminded her of her younger self. While that was great, you wanted to be seen for your ability to get people to talk to you without making them feel like they were in an interview. Just a conversation between people.

When you asked Clark to work on the assignment with you, he jumped at the opportunity. In truth, he wanted the chance to see you at work. He’d listen to Lois talk about how you just saw things differently. Almost like she was jealous, but she would never admit to that.

“So I was thinking we could go to Gotham. Before you say anything, I know it’s dangerous there but we’ll be going during the day. And I finally got the go-ahead from Wayne Enterprises to shadow one of their board members. A Day in the Life kind of piece. What do you think?” You rambled out, arms crossed as you leaned against Clark’s desk.

“I think I can get you an exclusive with Bruce Wayne if you wanted.” He stated nonchalantly.

“I would owe you big time. Wait, how the hell do you know Wayne? What, were you boy scouts together or something?”

“We just end up at a lot of the same places.” Clark offers no other explanation.

“Right,” you nodded at him, not letting it go, “So, I run point on this and you back me up?”

“Sounds perfect. You’ll do great, just know he will try and flirt with you so don’t make it easy for him, Sunflower.” The nickname caused heat to rise to your face, remembering that first time you met him.

“Sure, like the most eligible bachelor in Gotham who can buy whatever he wanted would look at me twice?” You weren’t being down on yourself too much, more like you were being realistic. The man had dated supermodels and heiresses, not chubby junior reporters.

“Without sounding unprofessional, trust me when I say Bruce will look at you more than twice. You say the word and I’ll set him straight.” Was that flirtatious? No way.

“Um, if you say so, Clark,” you tried to laugh it off and walk away but Clark caught your wrist, your eyes locked with his and you felt…something. 

“I do say so, Sunflower,” he lowered his hand from around your wrist, “Just prepare to shut him down more than once. He’s, uh, persistent.”

“You trying to save me for yourself, huh?” You couldn’t help yourself. If he denies it, you could say you were joking. If he confirms it, then…

He simply smiled and tilted his head, neither confirming nor denying. 

During your interview with Bruce Wayne, you were surprised that he indeed did flirt with you as Clark said he would. You managed to steer the conversation back to Wanye Enterprises each time he would stray to learn more about you. You would give him a detail here and a tidbit there, but you kept it professional. Clark was there to take notes, letting you take the lead. He was impressed by you. You kept Bruce flirting with you to get him to spill details about new things he was working on for Gotham.

The first time you kissed Clark Kent was three months into your internship. 

Lois had taken a shine to you, loving what few pieces you were able to get past the intern pool and into an issue. You figured it would be in your best interest to go to her with any journalistic questions you had. You may not like her very much, but she was still a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and you would be an idiot not to take a few pointers from her.

There was one thing you didn’t talk to her about, and that was the massive crush you had on her ex. It just seemed too messy, and honestly, you didn’t need her permission to do anything. 

That’s why you accepted Clark’s invitation to make you dinner. Frankly, you weren't surprised he asked you. You had been flirting with each other, exchanging glances and smiles across the office. Spending hours a night talking on the phone and texting back and forth naturally lead you here.

Armed with a bottle of wine and all the courage you could muster, you make it to Clark’s apartment just as he is finishing dinner. He answers the door in jeans and a grey long-sleeved henley, looking so comfortable and so different without a tie on. He thanked you for the wine, took your wrist to pull you behind him, and shut the door with a socked foot.

Pouring you both a glass, he congratulated you for completing half of your internship. It completely slipped your mind that you had reached this milestone, but he remembered. And that was saying a lot. You clinked your glasses together and took a sip of the pinot noir. 

“This is going to go great with dinner. Thank you again for picking up some. I can’t believe I forgot to,” Clark bantered, setting his wine glass down to check on the pork tenderloin and roasted potatoes.

“You were too busy trying to impress me,” You insisted, smiling when he gives you a stern look.

“Watch it, Sunflower,” is all you hear and you shifted from one foot to the other to hide your search for friction. You barely had two sips of wine in your system before this man had you feeling drunk.

“Time to let the pork rest while the potatoes finish up. Should be done in a bit,” Clark picked up his wine glass, settling his other hand on your lower back to guide you to the island counter. He didn’t expect it when a shiver ran up your spine and caused you to giggle, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

You sat and chatted during dinner like you’ve known each other for ages and it just felt very comfortable. He told you about his mom, growing up in Smallville, and how he came to work at the Daily Planet. You spoke about your schooling and how you’d one day like to write for the Planet and publish a book of short stories. He was stuck on your every word and it made you feel important to have his undivided attention.

After dinner, you retired to the living room to watch some tv. It was more just on as background noise as you conversed with each other. When you both reached for the wine bottle at the same, you both laugh and then look at each other. And it was all you could do not to melt into a puddle as those blue eyes stare longingly at you.

Clark reached up and took off his glasses before tossing them on the coffee table. Fuck. But, he does nothing more. For what seems like minutes, you sat in silence just staring into each other’s eyes until you speak up. 

“Clark, please?” You whined, growing more frustrated with every second.

“Use your words. Tell me what you need, Sunflower.” The way he said it had you shifting in your seat.

“I need you to kiss me, please?” You pleaded, the little crack in your voice not missed by Clark.

He cupped your face with one large paw, his touch so soft that you leaned into it to feel his warmth. His thumb moved over to wipe across your lips, followed swiftly by his lips.

Your lips met and you felt the warmth radiating from him. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue as he begged for entry. You let him in, moaning into his mouth. Clark grunted in return and pulled away to rest your foreheads together.

“I have wanted that for far too long, Sunflower,” Clark groaned, licking his lips.

“Me too,” you whisper, scooting closer to Clark to lace your fingers together, “Can we do it again?”

Instead of answering you, he pulled you into his lap and attacked your mouth with fervor.

The first time you tell Clark Kent you love him is exactly two months after your first kiss.

It was completely by accident, but no less true. 

Clark invited you over for dinner and a movie. The two of you were in the middle of watching 10 Things I Hate About You. Patrick was dancing on the bleachers and singing to Kat. The most romantic scene in the movie apart from the poetry scene.

“Ya know, if we went to high school together and you sang ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ to me in front of the whole school, I would have melted,” you say, stuffing popcorn into your face, “But then, I already love you, so you wouldn’t have to do the whole singing thing.”

Clark’s head whipped around so fast that you can feel the wind coming off of him. “What did you just say, Sunflower?”

You look to Clark and you realized what you had said at the same moment and your eyes went wide. “I think I just confessed love during a ‘90s romcom.”

“Yeah, I think you did,” Clark looked at you with that look in his eyes, “Good thing I love you, too.” He says nonchalantly, trying to not freak you out, and went back to watching the movie.

“Clark, I love you.” You wanted to feel the words on your tongue again.

“I love you too, Sunflower.” Hearing the words come from him was like a cozy embrace that coated the night in warmth.

The first time you had sex with Clark Kent was at the end of your internship.

Clark wanted to wait- 

No, he didn’t want to wait, but he chose to wait until your internship was over and you were offered an actual job at the Daily Planet to not seem like he was cruising for tail in the intern pool. 

Little did you know, but Clark had it all planned out. Candlelit dinner, romantic music, wine, and chocolates. The whole nine yards. But you didn’t get to experience that version of lovemaking. 

At the same time Clark was lighting candles, he heard your heartbeat spike across town. He sped away to your location, without putting on his suit. He flew above the city before he found you being held up at gunpoint in an alleyway and his blood boiled. He watched you comply with your attacker and hand over your purse before flying down behind the man quietly. The man had no idea what hit him when Clark flicked his temple and the assailant falls over unconscious.

He didn’t even think to keep his identity secret anymore. He steps over the man to get to you and check you over for injuries, both external and internal. When he sees nothing, he questions you, “Are you alright, Sunflower?”

You look almost through him because there he is in a sweater and dark-wash jeans, glasses slightly askew. You step back an inch as he reaches out to you. He can see it in your eyes that you are piecing together little moments. 

How he got across town in what seemed like seconds. How he never got sick. How it felt like he was always hiding something. This is what he was hiding from you. For your safety? For his?

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you I was Superman, I just didn’t know how. Do you forgive me, Sunflower?” Clark’s pleading ultramarine eyes burned into yours. 

“I mean, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell me. I have so many questions. Of which, you will answer all of them, Clark. But, all I need to know right now is how the hell you found me?” Your breathing was starting to speed up again and you tried to calm down but given the circumstances, you were acting pretty normal.

“I kind of, know your heartbeat. I can hear it at all times. Wherever you are, I can hear you,” Clark makes an odd face and then forces out an embarrassed laugh, “Now that I say that out loud, it sounds weird.”

“Yeah, it’s a little weird. But it’s also super romantic, too,” you reach to Clark and pull him to you, “What’s my heart sound like now?”

“Sounds like you’re excited,” he let his hand drag down your body, “Smells like it too. Now, why would that be?”

“I mean, I did just find out my boyfriend is a superhero. That’s sorta hot. Sorta, I mean, he hasn’t taken me flying yet.”

“Brat! How hard is it to ask for what you want?” He picked up your purse from the unconscious attacker and handed it to you. When it is secured around your shoulder, Clark picked you up and you wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on, Sunflower.” He took off so fast that the world blurred around you.

As he got closer to his apartment, he slowed down and flew a bit higher near the clouds. He rolled over onto his back so that you are straddling him. His hands found each other behind his head as he floated above Metropolis, all attention directed at you. Your eyes wandered around the city as you adjusted your seating which stirred his arousal.

Clark tried to adjust himself under you without you noticing but instead, you took the opportunity to grind your clothed sexes together. The groan that escaped Clark’s mouth is enough to spur you on to continue your ministrations. His eyes are already rolling back in his head and you feel quite proud of yourself. You reached under Clark’s sweater and ran your fingers through his chest hair as you continue to work your hips over him.

“Clark?”

“Yes, Sunflower?” He opened his eyes, pupils were blown wide with lust, breathing becoming unstable.

“Take me to your place so we can get more comfortable?” You flirted with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying up his body.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed under your thighs to have you wrap your legs around him once more and began to descend to the balcony of his apartment. He let you inside first but is quickly behind you following you into his bedroom as you start to shed your layers.

You spun around and gave Clark a show of your skin becoming visible in the moonlight. When you are fully undressed, you knelt in front of him with your head down and your hands on your thighs. 

He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. He listened for your heartbeat, and it was steady, if not a little heightened. You were awaiting instruction, as far as he could tell.

“Sunflower, I want you to pick a safe word.” He stood behind you and undressed down to his underwear.

“Unicorn is my safe word.”

“Good girl,” Clark caressed your shoulders and squeezed them, “Are you okay with calling me Sir?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your heart rate evened out, Clark noticed. You’re happy. He beamed down at you.

“Good girl, now turn around and take out Sir’s dick.” 

You turned around and reach up to Clark’s boxer briefs, cupping him over the fabric before hooking your fingers into the waistband and pulling the underwear down and off. His length sprung up to bounce in front of your face and you lick your lips in anticipation but don’t go any further without direction.

“Such a good girl, Sunflower,” he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Come lay down so Sir can taste you. I can already smell how wet you are.”

You took his hands as he helped you up. Clark pulled you close to his body, your back against his chest. He attacked your neck, nipping and sucking marks that would show in the morning. His length on your hip has you testing your limits. 

As if reading your mind, Clark reached down and cupped your netherlips. You instinctively clamped your thighs around his hand and he used a foot to kick your legs apart. With one hand exploring your cunt, the other slides around your throat as a warning.

“Don’t ever block me from my pussy, Sunflower. This belongs to Sir now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir, it belongs to you.” You were sure Clark could feel you clench around nothing and you didn’t care. You wanted him to know he was doing everything right.

“Good girl,” He dipped a finger into your wetness and pulled it back out to wipe across your bottom lip, “We’re both gonna taste your sweet honey.” He used the hand around your throat to turn you around so he could claim your lips.

You tasted yourself as his tongue invaded you, whimpering into his mouth. His answering groans had you trembling. He walked you backward until your legs hit the edge and he pushed you down. Leaning over, he knelt and pushed your thighs back as far as they would go, marveling at your glistening slit.

With the flat of his tongue, he licked from your entrance to your neglected nub, pausing to suck on it lightly. He ate with the hunger of a man starved. He steeled his tongue, probing your core and tasting you from within. He made out with your pussy, pulling back to spit on it which drew moans from you and had you squeezing your breasts in response.

Clark was good at this, not that you were surprised because of how good of a kisser he was, but fuck! The way he fingered your pussy, making sure to curve his fingers to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside was heavenly. 

When he sped up his fingers and pushed down on your lower stomach, you gasped and realized he understood the assignment. He was rewarded with you squirting over his hands and chest.

“Such a good girl for me, Sunflower,” he said, before sucking your juices off of his fingers and moving your limp body up the bed, “Now, you’re going to be an extra good girl and take Sir’s dick.”

That was all the warning you received before Clark was pushing in, stretching you wide over his thick hardness. With every inch, he would pull out and press in an inch more than the last thrust. He made sure to stretch you slowly, keeping your tightness while allowing you to get used to his girth. 

“That’s right, Sunflower, open those sweet petals for Sir,” Clark soothes your whines as he fucks into you, “I promise I’ll make it all better when you let me all…the way…in.” He punctuated his words with jolts from his hips. 

When he is finally seated inside you, he pauses. The sudden stop has you reaching for Clark and moving your hips to gain friction.

“Look at you trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” he leaned over you and watched as tears flow from your eyes, “These tears are gorgeous, but use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Sir, please,” you whined, looking into his eyes, “Need you to fuck me, please.” 

The smile on Clark’s face is brilliant, he’s got you right where he wants you. He kissed your face, stopping to wipe away your tears with his tongue. Pulling back, he secured your legs around his hips before he leaned down to wrap one hand around both of your wrists, holding them above your head.

When Clark fucked you, he paid attention to every aspect of your body. He looked into your eyes. He kissed and nipped at your neck. He pinched and teased your nipples. He rubbed your clit while he pounded inside you. 

Clark just did it better than any of your partners before. Maybe because you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him? Or maybe because he was just…better. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were with him and he was inside you and you were all his.

You lost track of how many times you came, but Clark remembers every time. He committed them to memory, seeing you arch your back and feeling your walls flutter around him. He could tell by the sheen of sweat on your body and the way your body is vibrating that you were beyond spent. Possibly even a bit overstimulated. Perfect.

“You ready for my cum, Sunflower?” He licked his thumb and pressed on your clit as you keen, “Do you think you can hold on for me for just a bit longer?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you moan as he slid his hands to your hips.

“There’s my good girl,” he groaned and began his assault on your pussy. At this angle, he can stimulate both your hooded center and your G-spot. A punishing pace that set you ablaze. While you held onto his biceps, you looked into his eyes. Where there used to be blue irises, only dark pupils remained. His curly hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead. He was barely a man now, more like an animal rutting into you.

Before long, his hips stutter in their onslaught. Breathing erratically, he squeezed your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. He moved to kiss your neck and latched onto your shoulder with his teeth as you feel every twitch of him releasing inside you. You know there will be bite marks in your shoulder for days but you don’t care.

Clark’s teeth left you, followed closely by his tongue soothing your almost-broken skin. Sometimes, he didn’t know his strength. And it was a close one this time. He was still inside you semi-hard before he decided to pull out slowly causing you to whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

He moved from the bed for a moment. You closed your eyes for a millisecond before you feel warm wetness between your legs.

“Just cleaning you up, Sunflower,” He wipes your delicate folds softly and throws the towel in the clothes hamper before crawling in bed beside you, “You go right to sleep, you deserve it.”

The last time you refer to yourself as Clark’s girlfriend is a year and a half into your relationship.

Clark proposes to you over dinner in the house you bought together. He bought the ring after you talked about marriage just two weeks ago. Well, technically, Bruce helped him buy the ring. As in, Bruce bought the jewelers store and had them design the perfect ring for you. 

A smoky quartz center with marquise and pear-shaped citrine petals around it. You had mentioned more than once that you didn’t want a diamond engagement ring, you wanted something that matched your style.

Clark presented the ring to you on one knee, ever the traditionalist. You said yes, of course.

This man was your life, your hope, and your future. You looked forward to every minute of every hour of every day with him. 

He is your light in the darkness, and you are his Sunflower.

A/N: Yes, the title is from "Sunflower" by Post Malone/Swae Lee. Yes, the song was for a Spider-Man movie. So, what? It's a good song.

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[bradshawssugarbaby]

Picture Perfect - Smallville!Clark Kent x Reader

A/N: Inspired by the song Picture Perfect by Angela Via. pairing: Smallville!Clark Kent x f! reader warnings/content: fluff, mutual pining, one singular swear word. word count: 2.2k

I should be yours, baby, you should be mine. Meant to be, can’t you see? We’re picture perfect”

Clark watched as you chewed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly as you glanced over the notes in your binder, written in your vibrantly feminine script, large and looping letters forming your thoughts on the page, written in your favourite pink gel pen, as you always did. He couldn’t help but smirk at how even your notes looked like they were transcribed by Barbie herself, but as silly as the thought of media law scrawled out in pink glittering ink in your flourished handwriting was, he loved that about you. He loved that your bubblingly bright personality had its way of working itself into every aspect of your life, including your studying methods. 

His piercing Kryptonian blue eyes continued to stare over at you, fixated on the way your hand gracefully glided across the page as you wrote, your fingers curled just so around your pen. He was fascinated by the way you could make even the most simple of tasks, like holding a pen, appear elegant. He knew he had it bad for you, he had for as long as he could remember, since you met. His friends would often tease him about diving in head first when he fell in love, and he tried to work on it in an effort to protect himself from getting hurt, but with you, he knew it was useless. He may not have had many weaknesses, but you were one of the few things that could stop him dead in his tracks. 

“Clark? You ok?” 

You had looked up from your notes to see Clark seemingly staring off into space at you, unable to break his focus from his thoughts. He chuckled nervously before pointing at his open text book on the table and nodding his head. 

“Yeah, I’m fine!” He said, trying to sound confident and hide his embarrassment as she caught him staring.

You tossed your textbook closed and shoved it across the table in front of you with a tired laugh. Straightening your ponytail, you let out an exasperated sigh before rubbing your hand inbetween your thumb and index finger.

“I’m starving, and my hand is cramped up, ready to go grab something to eat? I think if I have to read anymore of this I might implode,” you laughed, shaking your head as you stood up from your seat.

“Yeah, yeah I could go for something to eat. Pizza?” Clark laughed softly, raising an eyebrow as he followed behind you. 

He tried to keep his gaze upwards, focusing on anything but your backside as you walked in front of him out of the library. He had to congratulate himself on his willpower - resisting the urge for his eyes to drift downwards, tracing the shape of your curves as you walked. He caught up beside you, chuckling as he pretended to jog up beside you. If anything, it was harder work to pretend he couldn’t keep up with your strides than it was to actually jog, he could run from Kansas to California in a matter of seconds. In fact, he’d often thought about doing just that. He’d worked so hard to keep his secret from everyone, including you, as much as he hated hiding things from you. He loved you, and he trusted you, but he was terrified of how you’d respond. Would you be afraid of him? Would you stop speaking to him? Would you think he was crazy and tell everyone he’d gone insane? The more he’d thought about telling you, the more he realized he’d rather continue the facade he’d created than have any chance of losing you. Having you in his life and not knowing the truth about him was better than telling you and not having you there at all. 

“Clark, are you sure you’re ok? You keep spacing out on me.” 

Your laughter rang out through Clark’s ears - he could easily list it in his top favorite sounds, second only to the way his name sound when it fell from your lips, making it sound like an answered prayer every time you said it. Clark had it bad for you, and he knew that if he continued to hold it in, it’d end up forcing you away, but he’d been through this before with friends, and it rarely ended in his favor. The last thing he wanted was to push you away, either due to him revealing his true feelings, revealing his secret or by continuing to ignore how he felt for you. His own happiness aside, he knew ignoring his long-standing feelings towards you was the easiest solution. He ran a hand through his thick dark hair for a moment and chuckled awkwardly, his piercingly bright blue eyes glancing over at you as he spoke.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just thinking,” He said, trying his best to be reassuring but he couldn’t help but think he was failing miserably at it. 

“Oh, that’s what that smell is?” You teased, giving Clark a playful shove of the shoulder as you spoke. 

Clark rolled his eyes and gave you one of his infamous smirks, the kind that had most girls you knew weak in the knees. Clark had often been told he had a nice smile, but he was also oblivious when women found him attractive. Half of the time he had no idea when someone was flirting with him, and the other half of the time, he didn’t know how to respond to or reciprocate the flirting. The best he could do was flash a sweet, charming smile someone’s way and be his usual kind-hearted self, which was how he liked it best. He hated the idea of having to work for someone’s attention. With you, however, he found himself wanting to try. He wanted to flirt with you, he just had no idea where to begin.

He held the door to the pizza place on campus open for you, giving you another one of his warm, heart-melting smiles as he gestured for you to enter first with the motion of one of his long, muscular arms, the sleeve of his navy blue sweater shifting up on his wrist slightly as he moved, the arms just a little short for his frame. At six-foot-four and the majority of his height in his legs, Clark’s clothes were often just that half inch too short, often masked by pushing his sleeves up or by the shoes he wore. 

Little did Clark know, while he was busy admiring your every feature, you were doing the same to him - the way his blue eyes would light up and shine when he smiled was enough to make you swoon. The way he always acted like a total gentleman around you, holding doors, pulling out your chair, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, it was enough to make your heart flutter and race each time. The way he’d talk about his mom’s homemade pies back on his family farm in Smallville, the way he’d sing her praises and humbly brag about how her baking was famous across their little town. He’d always jokingly offer to bring you a slice the next time he went home to visit her, teasing you that despite the fact it wouldn’t be at its freshest, it’d still be the best slice of pie you’d ever eaten. You loved all these things about him, as well as the way he cared for everyone - he was always doing whatever he could to be a good person, which was a rarity a lot of the time on campus at Metropolis University, but you treasured his difference from the other men on campus. 

To anyone else who saw the two of you sitting together in the pizza parlour that day, they would have sworn you were on a date - the longing, loving stares at each other, exchanged stolen glances and sweet smiles, blushing red cheeks and nervous laughter - all the signs of a budding romance sparking between two young lovers. To the two of you though, it was one-sided, guarded feelings - scared to make the first move, scared to let feelings become known, anxious about how the other might respond, worried about whether or not your feelings might be showing through too much to the other party. You and Clark occasionally got comments about how sweet of a couple the two of you made from passersby, usually elderly women who’d say it as they passed through, commenting how it reminded them of how they were years ago when they first met their husbands, giving you a wink about how Clark was a keeper, or telling Clark to continue being the gentleman he is. The comments were always met with blushing cheeks from both of you, an awkward chuckle and thank you from Clark and a polite smile from you, but unbeknownst to the both of you, you and Clark both secretly felt your hearts flutter in agreeance to the compliment, hoping the other would agree too. 

Clark finished his pizza, pushing his plate away from his body on the table slightly, letting out a satisfied sigh as he reached for his glass of soda, bringing it up to his lips to take a sip. He peered over the glass at you, stealing a glance as you blushed to yourself, biting your bottom lip for a second, appearing deep in thought as you sat across from him. Clark wrestled with whether or not he should finally bite the bullet and tell you how he felt. After a few moments of his own deep concentration, he decided tonight was as good a night as ever to finally talk to you about his feelings and find out where he stood with you. He set his glass down, clearly appearing uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat. You tried not to notice his discomfort as you finished eating, and the two of you left to head back to the dorm building in silence. When you reached the front steps of the building, having had enough of the piercing silence and avoiding eye contact that had taken place the whole walk home. 

“Listen, I need to talk to you,” Clark said as he shifted the weight of his backpack on his shoulder awkwardly, looking around at the sky, trying to focus his eyesight on anything but your face as he spoke in an effort to avoid the awkwardness that he felt would inevitably come with what he was about to confess to you. 

“About what?” You raised an eyebrow as you took in a sharp inhale of air, holding your breath as you hoped he wouldn’t be saying how he met someone or how he thought the two of you could use some space.

“I think you and I should…discuss our relationship, going forward,” Clark shook his head as he chuckled awkwardly and held his hands up for a moment in surrender, “That sounded better in my head, let me try again?”

“I really like you,” Clark finally sighed with a nod of his head, “I’m not good at this, I know I never say the right things, and I know everyone tells me I’m blind to stuff like this, but I really like you. All of you. Everything there is to love about you.”

Clark looked at your bewildered expression, unsure of what to say, but fearing in that moment that he’d just fucked up the only thing he knew he wanted to cling to in life, the one thing that helped him retain some sense of normalcy, some sense of humanity in life while he was living away from Smallville. After a moment of awkward silence had passed, a strained, awkward sounding laugh fell from his lips, almost out of desperation to fill the void that was lingering between you both now.

“I like you too. All of you. And, I know you’re…different, Clark, I don’t know what it is, or how to explain it, but I know you’re not like most people. And I don’t care. I like you anyways,” You finally said, nodding your head in confirmation of your words as you spoke.

Clark breathed out a heavy sigh and laughed, shaking his head, his thick, dark hair tousling slightly as he did so. His deep blue eyes looked at you again, sparkling and glistening as they always did when he smiled. He put a hand on your cheek gently, leaning in to give you a tender kiss. He’d kissed you on the cheek before in a friendly, affectionate kind of way, but this, this was different. This was a soft, tender kiss, full of passion and love for you, as if you were the only woman in the world. In a way, in Clark’s mind, you were, at least in this moment.  “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that, you know,” Clark murmured as he pulled away from your lips, smiling softly as he rested his forehead on yours, “As for the different thing…we’ll get to that.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔

this is the last part of motherly instincts, I hope you enjoy.

summary - you found your happiness.

warning - slight asshole steve and threats.

the gif I use isn't mine, headers aren’t mine.

part 1 - part 2

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You were happy, beyond happy. You didn’t know if you would find someone after Steve, but you did; he had stumbled into your life. Literally, you had been walking out of your local coffee shop, and this man had bumped into you, causing your things to go flying, and he had begun to apologise profusely, buying you another. Which leads you to now, you are currently cuddled into his side. After a year of getting to know him, going on dates and another two years of being together, you had found your one. 

You had traced his jawline as he slept, your heart fluttering as a small smile graced his lips. You felt as if you could live in that moment forever, the moment between your finger brushing his skin and the smile appearing. It was soft and simple, but it felt like everything. In that moment, you felt beautiful. Not because you actually were, but because even while he was asleep, your touch could cause a smile, and that was more than enough for you. Clark hums, his eyes fluttering open and connecting with yours. “Are you good there, darlin’?”

You smile, nodding softly before leaning down and pressing your lips against his. “Yeah, I think I am handsome.” You stroke his cheek, staring into his bright blue eyes. “You know, you look gorgeous when you sleep.” He laughs loudly, rolling you over and leaning above you. 

“Yeah?” You hum and nod. He brings you into a kiss, “Well, I guess you’ve never seen yourself asleep then because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve seen.” Your cheeks warm before watching as he slowly lowers down, pressing a kiss onto your stomach. “And when this little jellybean is born, she’ll be as beautiful as her mother.” 

Your fingers run through his hair, smiling down at him. “Clark!” He looks up at you, and you smile. “Come up here.” You pout, smiling as he locks lips with you. You pull back and groan. “I just remembered that we have to go to the compound today.” You did know Clark’s secret, I mean. You were having his child. Of course, you knew he was Superman. “Do we really have to go?” 

Clark chuckles, stroking your cheek. “Yeah, darlin’, we have to go. But don’t worry. I’m going to be there with you.” He begins to pamper you with kisses. “Plus, don’t you think it’s time we told them? They are your friends, after all.” 

You hum. “I suppose, but you know who will be there.”

Clark raises his brow. “Voldemort will be there?” 

You whack him, breaking out into laughter. “No, you dumbass.” You interrupt yourself with more laughing, tears being brought to your eyes. “Oh my god, we were just having a moment.” Clark smiles, happy to see your smile and hear your laugh. “You know who I’m talking about.” Your smile slowly slips off your face, knowing you’d probably be running into your ex. 

Clark nods, cupping your cheek. “I know, darlin’. But he doesn’t matter anymore. A man that leaves you is stupid.” 

After your touching conversation, you and Clark got up and prepared for the day. You dressed in a simple but pretty sundress that showed off your bump. Clark, unable to keep his hands off you, holds you close as you head out to the car and begin to drive to the place you used to call home. Your hand grips your fiancee, slowly exiting the car and smiling when the team greets you, pulling you into hugs and congratulating you on the baby. 

You smile as they get along with Clark, happy to see them together, but then the happiness disappears when he enters the room, a new woman on his arm. Clark’s arm wraps around your waist, and Steve frowns, noticing that and your bump. The woman beside him nuzzles closer, glaring at you. Clark clears his throat and smiles, putting his hand out. “Hi, I’m Clark.”

Steve puts his hand in his, and by the looks of it, you think that he might be trying to squeeze Clark’s hand. But winces when Clark does it instead. “I’m Steve. I’m guessing you are her latest? What sad fool agrees to be with a woman and another man’s child?” 

A frown appears on Clark’s face, and Steve groans when he continues to squash his hand. Clark leans closer, a dark look in his eyes. “You ever talk about my fiancee and child like that again, and I’ll kill you, understand?” Steve opens his mouth, ready to argue, when he notices Clark isn’t messing around. His mouth closes, gulping before he nods quickly. A smile forms back on Clark’s face. Letting go of Steve’s hand and pulling you close, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

The day goes by, and you ignore Steve, too busy focusing on your friends and man to care about someone in your past. You smile as you watch Clark before his eyes find yours, and leans close. “I love you, darlin’.” 

You lean up and kiss his lips, “I love you too, honey.” 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2022, Day 29: Housewife Kink

He Always Did

Summary:  Clark doesn’t even feel bad about what he had to do

Pairings:  Clark Kent X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, mentions of punishment, teasing, size kink, dumbification, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  1.3K

Previous

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Clark stands at the door of the kitchen.  Thinking to himself how you were shaping up to be exactly what he needed.  Yeah, it might have been a rough start, and yes, you might have taken a few times to understand what he expected, but you were the epitome of perfection now.  Your hair perfectly in place, a simple necklace around your neck, pretty little frock on your body, your very own Love bracelet around your wrist, and your pumps.

You peek around your shoulder, and your winged eyeliner and red lip was exactly how he liked it, and you looked like a dream.  He had felt bad about last week, and how you were not up to his  standards.  But the mess on the floor told him you didn't mind it too bad.

"Does it make you nervous when I stare?" He asks, looking like he was about to devour you.  Licking at his lips to show just how hungry he was for your sweet nectar.

You made up for your mistake today.  Stirring the sauce in the pan, you taste it, and bring some over to him to try.  "It's delicious, Dear," he informs you earnestly.  "The house looks immaculate," he leans over on the counter, and you gasp.

"Clark, I'm sorry, hun," you do a cute little jog over to the liquor cabinet to prepare his simple scotch on ice.  Delivering it to your husband who had the biggest smile on his face.

"What did you do today?" His thumb rubs just over your wrist, pulling you even closer to him.  You were wearing his favorite perfume.  You wanted to impress him.  Apologizing for him coming home to you in sweats, and hair a mess.  Since then you had been plucked right out of his fantasies.  Sometimes you had on a naughty little lingerie set as you dusted around the house.  And sometimes, like today, you were creating his dream of a perfect home, and wife.

"I made our menu for the month, did some shopping, stripped the beds, and added clean sheets, I even," you pause for dramatic effect, getting right at his ear, "Ironed your shirts, honey."

Clark's eyes flutter close, and his hand drifts down your back.  Settling on your ass, before he moans.  "You did all that for me, Dear?"

With a wicked nodding of your head you pull him into the living room, walking him over to his chair, before he sits down.  "Mmm," he bites at his lip, while you stand up straight.  Starting to unbutton your dress painfully slow.  "What do you have under there?"

"Shh," you softly say as your black lacy bra comes into view.  Oh you were feeling naughty, huh?  He wonders why he needed to see you in a dress that had buttons all the way to the hemline, because this was infuriating.

More of your lingerie comes into view, and it was much more risqué than he could imagine.  Sheer panels, and straps of fabric, creating an almost bandaged look to you.  He loved knowing that what was under your dress was sinful, and for his eyes only.

His hand wraps around the back of your leg when you reach the last button.  Letting that pretty blue number fall on the floor, and he tugs you closer to him.  You straddle his lap, starting to grind over him.  "Clark, I don't want the sauce to burn."

"You better get me off quickly then, or I'll make you start over, while I tongue fuck that pretty cunt.  I'll be on the floor in between your legs, and you won't be allowed to stop," you whimper.  His cock was getting harder as he told you what he was going to do to you.

"You gonna waste your time dry humping me, or are you going to actually fuck me?" You go to get off of him, and turn your backside to him as you shimmy out of your panties.  Giving him a clear view of your glistening folds and swollen pussy.

"Uh-uh," you warn him.  "Take yourself out," Clark doesn't hesitate to have his pants pulled completely off before he's kicking them off.  One move and he's ripping his shirt off, and you get to stare at his thick arms, and hard chest.

Backing your ass up to him, he grips his cock tightly, and guides you over him.  He still hurt to take all of him, but no wasn't an option.  You hiss at the sting and severe stretch of your husband as he lets you glide all the way down.  He bottoms out, and holds onto your stomach, feeling at just how deep he actually is.  "I bet you feel me in your throat don't you," you moan out your yes, and he grips tightly to your hips.  "Should I give you a second, or just starting fucking you?"

"Wait!" You needed to adjust to his width.  Sure, he was definitely long, but his cock was so thick and heavy.  Made you feel so full, and you wondered if you were ever going to get used to this feeling.

Clark's hips rut up into you, and you lean your head back on his shoulder, "I have had such a hard day.  I want you to fuck me."

Readjusting your weight, you put your hands on his knees, starting to move over him slowly.  Clark being such a vocal man, has you speeding up your motions.  He did make the sweetest noises.  His hands move to your tits, and he gives them a hard squeeze.  Tweaking your nipples, and pinching them when you hit all the right spots, "Right there, Dear.  Yeah, just like that," he pinches you even harder, and you slam yourself over him.  Taking him as deep as possible, and the tip of his cock tickles along your cervix.

You felt so full.  He had ruined you for other men.  Clark places his mitt sized hands around the back of your thighs, and lifts you up.  Using your body as his own personal sex doll.  Impaling you on his cock, while your vision goes blurry.  Words are incomprehensible, and you babble nonsense. He was so deep you felt him in your entire body.  So deep and hard that he was rearranging your insides.  And you were just along for the ride.

Clark hit every inch of the inside of your cunt.  While this isn't how you saw your life, he was making it worth it.  If you behaved, he awarded you handsomely.  If you disobeyed, his punishment was still orgasmic; it just made you walk funny.

You scream out his name as his tip stabs into your cunt.  Hitting in that special spot that makes you see stars.  Giving you an out of body experience as your euphoria spreads through your bones.  The world seemed brighter, when you came to, and you smile dopily at him.

Clark places you on the floor, letting your spent face feel a bit of coolness.  Looking back behind you, he squats down to enter into your warmth.  He had so much more control as he thrusts into you.  Having to hold tightly to your hips because you start to sink lower onto the floor, "You that dumb already, sweetheart?  You're so easy.  Saved this pretty little cunt for me, and now you're fucking addicted, aren't ya?"

You were addicted to him.  Addicted to the way he made you feel.  Your cunt sucks him deeper into your walls, and you reach out, clawing on the floor to ground yourself.  Clark lets your body sink to the ground, but he's still relentless at railing you.  Struggling on needing more, and wanting it to end.

"I'm so close.  So.  Fucking.  Close," his words punctuate his thrusts.  Your eyes roll back into your head, as you hold out a long and guttural scream.

His cum fills up your cunt, but he continues fucking into you.  Spewing both of your spend onto the floor, "You're going to mop it up with your tongue, Dear.  And since it's the weekend, don't worry about clothes.  I'm going to split you open whenever.  I don't care if we have fucking company.  Someone needs to keep you satisfied."

And he did.  He always did.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @infatuatedjanes​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @peaches1958​ @whimsyplaty92​ @rebekahdawkins​ @johndeaconshands​ @thedarkplume​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @sgtjaamesbaarnes​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @km-ffluv​ @mickeyhenrys​ @awkwardgiraffe726​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​

[river-bottom-nightmare]

on the second floor of wayne manor, to the right of the generations of family portraits and above the old billiards room that has been converted into, more-or-less, a movie den complete with a popcorn machine, nestles the library of wayne manor.

it's not particularly grand or particularly sweeping. instead, it's rather crooked in every direction, bookshelves built this way and that, crawling up the walls like ivy, brimming with novels of any and every sort. a couple plush armchairs and a loveseat were shoved into the corners, an afterthought.

at first, clark couldn't quite imagine bruce in this room. how could he? the musty smell of books permeated the place; clark had only ever known bruce to have machine grease and oil smeared on his fingers and clothes. the armchairs, the bookshelves, the walls themselves seemed to curl in towards the center of the room, as if offering an embrace of the dreamiest sort; bruce threw all the master bedroom furniture up into the attic and replaced it with the sort of soulless shit clark had only ever seen in magazines aimed to please middle-aged majority shareholders. the minute clark stepped into the library, he felt a dozy sort of beauty drape over his shoulders, feeling old and sad and more comfortable than nearly anything else he's experienced. bruce wayne was to clark kent what a pump of adrenaline was to most other people.

and yet.

"i spent half my childhood up here," bruce admitted. "i know for a fact i've read every crime or mystery book we had. then i started collecting them."

thick, calloused fingers skimmed over the bones of the shelf closest to them. bruce turned, enough so clark could enter behind him, but still making sure he had to brush past the other man to get there. (bruce thought he was being crafty. clark wanted to hook his chin over bruce's shoulder and give him a hug.)

with a casual sort of grace that had bruce flicking his eyes over, clark settled into the loveseat, leaning back and simply taking in the room. he shut his eyes, trying to hear a younger bruce shifting on the plush fabric of the chair across the room, greedily leafing through the pages with his hair falling over his forehead.

it's easier than clark had thought. then again, bruce had always felt a bit like midnight velvet, the kind of handsome that felt more at home in black and white. a thin-faced boy—a boy by candlelight, a boy whose hours were so filled with stories that he likened himself to one of those dark knights on the pages—isn't too far out of reach.

clark kent is someone who reads and writes for a living, who knows full well the sheer power words hold, who knows just what they can reveal about other people, who twines them around his lips threads them through his fingers and uses them to do more good in the world than his abilities ever could. clark kent is someone who knows exactly what he's asking when he says, "which is your favourite?"

and bruce, shrewd as he is, picks a worn blue volume from the shelves, sits next to clark, and flips the book open so they can read.

--

in which the author foists all of her longing into a nonsenical little snippet that is less superbat and more me missing the library

tag list: @woahajimes @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @screennamealreadyused @clamityganon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical @queenofbooknerds @scattered-winter

[finnicks]

( fic ) EXCLUSIVE!

EXCLUSIVE!

smallville | lois/clark teen. 2.6k Five articles Lois Lane published about Superman and the one article she didn’t.

[adreamfromnevermore]

AU Where the Justice League forms as usual except for one slight difference where Bruce just so happens to have been the one superheroing for the longest. (Excluding Diana, who got up to it in World War 1 and then mostly didn't while she learned about Man's World)

Bruce helps form the Justice League, ignoring all of the comments as they come to the sudden realization that Gotham's baby cryptid story is actually a man in a very intimidating armored suit who can and will break your arm if you cause problems for him. They are unaware that this is not the first team he's led, and actually he's used to teams full of mostly teenagers who also happen to be his children. This should be easier, this team is primarily adults.

He realizes rapidly that he doesn't understand these people.

His kids take bonding activities to mean learning a dozen different ways to break someones leg. That doesn't fly with these people. And that is most of Bruce's ideas, hell when he was a kid Alfred took every opportunity to get him out of his room and mostly that was with the agreement that Alfred would teach him how to defend himself. He's come by it honestly.

This team is not easier. They have more drama than when his house was actually full of kids. It's insane. He doesn't know what to do with it, usually he just sent the kids to their rooms or grounded them from patrol. That doesn't work here.

He comes to a strange crossroads. That falls apart when he forgets who he's working with and snaps at Hal with a full room of heroes that the next person to throw a punch or an insult without a reason too will be sparring with him.

A long standing rule in the batcave that worked two fold to prevent infighting between the kids and too ensure that they were well and truly trained.

It works wonders. No one says a word out of line for the rest of the debrief. Bruce becomes the unofficial mediator of the league over Clark because anytime he walked in on a fight it suddenly became 10 times more civil out of sheer terror of what he'd do to them in a sparring match.

Eventually they actually meet his kids. Well, one kid.

Half way through a mission (one of the rare ones in Gotham) the Bat comes to a complete stop at the edge of an alley. Every single league member on the team comes to a stop behind him. Slowly from the shadows of the alley a man in a red helmet stalks out to greet them.

"You don't call, you don't write"

"Red Hood."

"Don't Red Hood me! We've been worried sick!"

"I was at the cave last night."

"You didn't answer my texts B. You always answer my texts."

Somehow it ends with big and scary following them through the rest of the mission with a running commentary of how much Bats has let him down in his failure to respond in a timely manner to a text send less than an hour before he ran into them in the alley. It only ends when Red Robin shows up.

And even then it only ends because Hood can't keep himself from throwing a punch and Bruce has to snap at him that if he throws another one they're sparring when they get home.

And by god is Jason giving up the chance to punch his brothers.

[sully-s]

Clark: Why do I always miss the gossip missions?

[frownyalfred]

I just want Bruce to be exhausted and so frazzled from four days of sleep deprivation that when Clark comes to inform him that one of their JL surveillance ops fell through, he just sighs and says “So I slept with [Senator] for nothing?”

Clark: “What.”

Bruce: “I didn’t say anything.”

Clark, about to launch himself into the sun: “You—”

[riley1cannon]

I wrote something! It's not much, but at this point even a small victory feels great. It's just an idea I scribbled out for a prompt from the first Clark Kent Week challenge, but then set aside since it didn't look like it would ever be more than a slice of Smallville life for the Kents (i.e.: not likely to morph into anything Superbat). Even so, I might just stick with it and at least see it through to the end. That, also, would be a tremendous accomplishment at this point.

"Killer Rocks From Outer Space" (placeholder title)

“Clark! Clark!” Martha Kent wasn’t worried. Not exactly. Her head told her nothing much could physically harm Clark -- that they knew of, added her heart. Head and heart were both agreed that there was a lot more than cuts and bruises to worry about in this world.

Headlights cutting through the Kansas dusk made for a welcome sight, and Martha scrambled down off the berm to meet the pickup as it bumped along the dirt road. “Any sign of him?” Jonathan called to her as he climbed out of the pickup.

“Not yet.” She let Jonathan pull her in close, glad to rest against him for a moment and draw some fresh strength from him. “I know he’s all right,” she said, wanting to banish the pinch of doubt that kept trying to creep up on her.

Jonathan heard the words she didn’t say – But what if he’s not? – and gave her another squeeze. “We’ll find him. He won’t have got that far.” Confidence filled out every word, and Martha hoped his was a hundred percent real. “Where’d you see him last? He say anything?”

“He’d just got home from school. Gave me a hand bringing in the groceries. Then he said he was heading down to the creek. Something about a school project?” 

“How far you’d check along the creek?” Jonathan opened the cab of the pickup again, letting the dog out, and rummaging around for something.

“Went up and down it about half a mile, calling for him. Didn’t see anything.” Jonathan was right, Clark wouldn’t have gone far, not unless he had a reason. “Maybe he found a hurt raccoon or something.” Wouldn’t be the first time he’d come home with a lost or injured critter.

“Maybe.” Jonathan didn’t sound convinced of that, though, and there was more concern in his eyes as he scanned the growing twilight. They had maybe another forty-five minutes before it would be full dark. He came back to her, handing her his old jean jacket to put on against the October chill that was coming on. He passed her a flashlight, too, and then held up what looked like an old t-shirt of Clark’s. Hunkered down, he held the t-shirt out to the dog, letting her get a good sniff. “C’mon, girl, go find him.”

The dog gave them both a cocked-head look, took another big sniff of the t-shirt, and then set out, nose to the ground.

“That dog’s no bloodhound,” Martha pointed out, pulling the jean jacket closer around her and trying to keep the beam of her flashlight on the Irish Terrier as it went back and forth, back and forth along whatever trail it had found.

“Nah,” Jonathan dismissed that claim, eyes crinkled with a smile. “All dogs got some bloodhound them.”

“That a fact?”

“It surely is– Hey, she’s got something!”

Martha swung her flashlight over just as the dog looked back at them, gave a quick bark, and took off up and over the berm.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Jonathan urged Martha along as they scrambled to catch up with the dog.

“I’m coming, hold your horses.” Clambering back up the berm and down the other side, Martha was glad to stop for a moment and shake the dirt and gravel out of her tennis shoes. “What’re you doing?” she asked, noticing Jonathan picking something off his jeans.

“Got in some cockleburrs.”

Martha hoped the dog hadn’t. “Where’d she go?” She played her flashlight along the bank of the creek, trying to pick out the dog. Right on cue, there was a bark just a little ways of, and she and Jonatha located the dog down near where a log had fallen across the creek to make a rough, rickety-looking bridge. 

The dog, of course, scampered right on across like no big deal, and then sat there staring back at them, barking for them hurry it up already.

Martha cast a dubious look at the fast-running water of the creek. “Clark can swim, right?” She knew he could, but…

“He can. And hold his breath underwater for at least twenty minutes,” Jonathan said, clasping her hand as he put one foot, then another, onto the log.

Martha shot him a hard look. “And just when did you find that out?”

“Back in July. He wanted to see how long he could go.”

“And you thought this was a good idea?”

“Didn’t see the harm. Told him twenty minutes was enough, though.”

“That a fact? And nobody thought to mention this to me?”

“Had a feeling how you’d react.”

Huh. She’d have to think about that – but later. Right now… Right now, Martha realized all the while they had been talking, Jonathan had been guiding her on over the old, mossy log, to the other side of the creek. “Guess you think you think you’re pretty smooth.”

“Guess I must be,” he said, eyes crinkling again. “Got you to marry me.”

Hmph. “Where’s that dog?” She played the flashlight around, locating the dog sitting over by a boulder, waiting on them. “You sure she knows what she’s doing?” 

“Pretty sure. Got an idea where Clark went, too,” Jonathan added. He took the flashlight from her and aimed it at a spot beside the boulder.

“What? I don’t see anything.”

“There’s a trail there. Well, more or less. Leads to an old cottonwood quarry.”

Martha wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “Is it dangerous?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Jonathan said, sounding sure of himself as he led the way over. “Not for Clark anyway. Mind,” he bent down to snag a good-sized stick off the ground, “we might want to watch for rattlers.”

Oh, good, Martha thought, casting a wary eye at the brush. “Bella, come here, girl.” She patted her leg, summoning the dog. Still intent on her mission to find Clark, the dog had to think about it for a minute, but then trotted over to join them. “Good girl,” Martha told her, scratching a silky ear as they both watched Jonathan poke around the brush before giving the all clear to follow along the path.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Is anyone interested in a little Clark Kent x Reader? Because that’s what’s on the docket.

Still working on Bright Like The Moon Chapter 8 as well as Love, Napoleon Chapter 2.

But uh, I just rewatched Man of Steel and Batman v Superman and Justice League. All by accident.

And now Clark is on my brain nonstop. So, there’s that.

I already made the story art and it even has a cute song lyric title. It is a one-shot though so at least I don’t have another ongoing series on my hands.

🤦🏾

[bradshawssugarbaby]

 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ request night  ⋆⭒˚.⋆

going to try my hand at one of these (pls don't flop).

pick a prompt from one of these lists, + a character from this list send me the no. of the prompt and what list it came from/the prompt line + character and i'll write a blurb/drabble!

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey 👋, can you do a part 2 of YOU WOULD NEVER BE HER.......... what if clark really likes/loved reader but doesn't have the guts to tell her so he ask lois for advice or something like, that's why he was staring at lois for a signal to make a move so that he can confess his feelings but he doesn't realized reader is already gone something like that but it's up to you how the story will go 😁

Thank you 💗

hi honey! here's part 2. I hope you like it!

find part 1 here.

summary - clark finds you after you disappeared from his side, hoping to fix the misunderstanding between you.

warning - angst, happy ending.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

As you lifted your cup to take a sip of your coffee, you felt a breeze, and your eyes landed on the man you love yet couldn’t have. You both lock eyes and stare at each other for a while, your breath caught in your throat. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Clark looks down at you, staring with a worried gaze. “You just disappeared.” 

You roll your eyes, sipping your coffee and swallowing. “I’m surprised you noticed. You seemed too busy staring at Lois to notice anything else.” Your fingers begin to tap the table, staring at Clark as you wait for him to say something. “Well? Did you need something?”

Clark licks his lips, eyes darting around and brows furrowing as he tries to figure out how to tell you. He watches you raise your eyebrow, waiting for him to say something, anything. Clark doesn’t think. He can’t think. Not when you are sitting there, looking so broken yet beautiful. He leaps forward, cupping your cheeks in his cold hands.

And his lips… They touched yours. 

It was a kiss. 

You had been kissed.

You. Y/n. 

For once, it was about you. 

You were at the centre of your world. 

It was life, and it was happening to you. 

Clark pulls away, and your eyes blink open. A shocked look falls upon you as you realise Clark, the man you have loved since you’ve known what love is, Clark, the man you thought had loved someone else. Clark, the alien from another planet. Kissed you… You. “I’m in love with you.” He whispered, searching your eyes. He looked very pale and very scared and a little… Hopeful.

You blinked, your breath hitching. “You…” Clark gulps, nodding before you can finish your sentence, his hands still cupping your cheeks. “But… What about Lois?” 

“What about her?” 

“I thought you loved her….” Your tongue flicks out, licking your bottom lip as your brows furrow.

Clark shakes his head. “No, no. I never loved her, only you. She was… She was going to help me tell you.” He softly smiles as you let out a breath of relief, staring at him. “I’ve wanted you to be mine for as long as I could remember.” 

You lean closer, lips nearly brushing together as your eyes flutter. “Tell me again.” 

“You’re mine.” 

You chuckle softly. “The other thing.” 

Clark smiles. “I love you.” And your lips connect, moving together gracefully.

You pull away only slightly to whisper into his lips. “I love you too.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[georgiapeach30513]

Bullet in Your Heart, Part 7

Summary:  Clark and you learn to grow and to love

Pairings:  Clark Kent X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, fingering, teasing, degradation, breeding kink, slight choking, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*divider created by @firefly-graphics​

“Lottie, come here, darling,” Clark chuckles from the other side of the room, but Charlotte just claps her hands giggling.  “Charlotte Abigail you come to daddy,” she shakes her head before plopping down on the floor, slapping it with her hands.  “I’m gonna tell mama.  You better get back up and walk to daddy.”

Charlotte looks around to see if you were around before blowing a raspberry at her dad.  Loud laughter pours out from the living room, and you let a silent tear drift down your cheek.  Stirring the dinner for the night while Clark was being the perfect dad to Charlotte.  These sounds were a life that you had imagined with Carter.  Clark wasn’t ever in the picture, and it hurt to hear his voice over Carter’s.

Your thumb twists around your wedding band, and you bring your hand up to your cheek, wiping away the tell tale sign that you were crying again.  You hated this.  Wished you could love Clark the way he deserved.  He just wasn’t Carter.  It wasn’t fair to either of you.  But every time you heard that little baby girl squeal out dada, it just made sense.  Your marriage was more for her than for you.

“Lottie!  You come here to me,” Clark’s movements towards her were anything but quiet.  You could hear every step he took on his knees as he swipes her up from the floor, extending her up above him.  “You will have to learn to walk.  You’re already a year old.  Walk.”

“Nonononononono!” Your daughter giggles at him.

“Useless little thing.  I guess daddy is gonna have to carry you everywhere, or you will crawl everywhere.”

“Yep,” she answers with certainty, pointing into the kitchen, “Mommy!!”

“Okay, okay.  Let’s go see what mommy is doing in there,” even the way he walks in here with her was the sweetest thing.  Stepping behind you, and giving you a not so subtle kiss to your neck.  Letting your daughter clap her hands at the sight of you.  “Mommy is cooking.”

“Mmm!  Nummy nummy!  Down, dada,” Clark puts her down, and she crawls off to her room, ready to tear out more toys for her and her daddy to clean up later.

Clark’s hands wrap around you, sliding them all the way around your belly, until he has you pinned up against his chest, “It smells good, Cricket.”

“Thanks, babe.  Nearly finished.”

“And later when Lottie goes to sleep, mommy and daddy can play around for a bit.”

“Really?” You smile, melting onto him.  “And how is daddy gonna play with mommy?”

“Well, first off, I want my mouth all over your body.  Kiss every inch of you.  Give you one of those pretty little marks just below your shirt.  We’ll both know it’s there, but no one will see it.  Then, I’m going to suck on these pretty tits, while my fingers get you nice and wet.  And oh, Cricket bug, after you’ve soaked my fingers, I’m going to fuck you so hard that this time it’ll really stick,” you swat at his arm, causing him to growl, biting at your neck.  

“You don’t like when I fuck you good and deep?  Have my seed right here,” his hand splays across your stomach, giving it a few pulsing squeezes, “I know that’s where you feel me at.  I have to hold my hand over your mouth while you cry out my name.  It feels so good doesn’t it?”

“You just don’t have to be so vulgar,” you reach towards the stove, turning off all the burners, and Clark slides you down the counter, leaning you over it.  His hands start sliding up your legs until he exposes those sweet little panties, moving aside the gusset of them, he stares at your cunt.  “Clark,” you mewl, looking behind you.  He was so dirty, and in those moments it felt so right.  “She’s just in her room.”

Standing up, he leans over your back, but his fingers slide through your folds before sinking into you.  Pumping them in and out of you so slowly, “We got time to let the food cool, don’t we?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Shh, I love the way that sounds.  Just how wet you get for me.  How you just drip down your thighs with need.”

“Clark,” my god, you understood why so many women crawled into his car.  How he was able to let them go with a smile on their faces.  You had become the envy of the town women.  You had landed the sex god that they all craved, and they didn’t even know how sweet of a father he was.  “Clark!”

“Shh, shh, if Lottie crawls back in here, I stop.  You don’t want this greedy little pussy to not get an orgasm do you?” You shake your head no, letting yourself softly whimper.  “Don’t want the neighbors to see my wife taking my fingers like the good girl she is.  You want them to know what a cute little slut you are before dinner?  Made this delicious meal, and now I have to reward you, huh?  It’s what you deserve.”

His fingers start driving into you faster as you try to cling to the counter.  “You like that, huh?  Everyone thinks you’re my perfect little wife, perfect sweet mama to our little girl, but you’re also…also,” your walls clench around his fingers, and you grit your teeth.  Grunting out your pleasure as you come undo, and he pulls his fingers out of you.

Sucking your arousal off each and every single finger, moaning at your taste, “Mmm, dessert before dinner,” he walks over to the sink, washing his hands, “And, I’ll give you so much more later.  I gotta fuck a baby in you, and I’ll keep trying until we get there.”

“Clark, she’s only a year old.”

“Lottie, baby, it’s time to eat,” he smirks at you, walking into the dining room.  Your sweet girl crawls to her dad, and he throws her in the air.  Catching her before sitting her in the high chair right beside him.  She was never far from him.  “Behave, Cricket.  Because I need my boy.”

Lotioning up your body, you peek into the mirror to see Clark darken the doorway.  He walks on through, closing the door behind him, twisting the knob to lock.  He didn’t trust Charlotte’s ability to walk in here mid sex.  

Walking behind you, his meaty hands run around your neck before dipping below your nightie.  Squeezing at your tits, and twisting your nipples.  You stare up at him through the mirror, he is completely insatiable.  You knew Clark was a ladies’ man, but now you wondered if it was because nobody could keep up with his drive.

“Cricket,” he kneels down behind you, his lips kissing along your shoulders, nipping at your neck, “You gonna give us our son this time?”

“It’s not a lack of trying.”

“Charlotte is now two, and you haven’t missed your cycle once.  You think you can be extra needy for daddy’s cock tonight?”

“You think you can stop treating me like I’m your breeding tool?  I’m more than the flesh between my legs.”

His hand wraps around your neck, pulling you flush up against him.  Thumb caressing your jawline, “Is that really all you think you mean to me?  You think I care nothing about you, but your cunt?”

“And the ability I have to give you a child.  You know, since Charlotte is Carter’s,” his grip around your neck gets tighter, and you watch his mouth flinch a moment.  “Maybe it’s you that’s the problem.”

“Don’t be a fucking bitch.  Cricket, you know I love you.  And I love that little girl like she’s my own flesh and blood.”

“And all you want to do is fuck!”

“You and Carter didn’t fuck?  Oh, you definitely did, I heard you.  You didn’t get as loud with him as you do with me.”

“Because we didn’t just fuck.  Carter made love to me.  I’m not just a sex toy that you get to use whenever you get an itch, Clark.  Treat me like I am the only thing that matters while you’re inside me.  I don’t want to just physically feel you the next day, I want to crave you, think about you all day to where I can’t even focus.  I want to feel the ghost of your hands moving my body around while you slowly tear me apart.  I want,” you yelp as he picks you up by your ass.  Grinding you over his stomach.

“You never wear panties.”

“Because I know you’ll rip them off.  Fucking is fine, but sometimes I…I-I-I…” your voice turns to whimpers as he continues to work him over you.  Walking the two of you to the bed.

“What was that?”

“Just like that.  It’s not just about your cock in me.  It’s about…a-a-about the way you make me feel.  The way…fuck…yeah.  Yeah, that’s nice.  Right there.  Clark,” you hold both his cheeks in your hand, making him watch how something so simple was making you breathless.  “See how good it feels?  Penetration is the…the grand…fuck…grand finale.  This lead up is what…yeah.  Clark, yeah.  Don’t stop.  Don’t…stop.”

He lets you get good and needy.  Letting your sensitive nub get you ready, and you were right, this was the sexiest thing.  He couldn’t help but watch how much pleasure you were getting at the feel of his skin on your cunt.  Could feel just how wet you were as you leak your arousal on his belly.  “Yeah!”

“Yeah?  You like that?”

“Fuck yeah.  Clark!  Clark!” He pulls a hand up to your mouth as you let the pleasure overtake you.  Dropping you to the bed, and your legs bend at the knee, dropping them down to the bed.  Hungrily rubbing your hand over your sensitive clit as you smile up at him.  “It’s all yours, daddy.  You gonna fuck a baby in my tight little pussy?  Make me feel you for months and months.  Have you swelling my belly, and everyone in town knows how you fuck me?”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I am,” he pulls off his shirt, yanking down his jeans before his thick body hovers over you, “So you want slow?”

“Yes, make me fall in love with the way you make me feel,” running his tip through your slit.  Moaning at how wet you were, “You did that.  Now, take me apart slowly.”

Sliding from your clit to your entrance, Clark steadily slides in, and your back arches off the bed bringing you closer to him.  He was making sure your cunt remembered the way he felt.  Hugging over his girth perfectly until he’s balls deep.  

Wrapping your arms around him, holding him close, “Just…just feel me,” you pant out beside his ear.  “Let us actually fall, and not because it’s a duty.”

“Cricket, you’ve never been a duty,” settling his weight on you, he taps your arms, “Wanna hold your hands,” you give him a smile relaxing your arms, and he slides his hands all the way up your arms.  Weaving his fingers in yours before pinning your hands above your head.  “I love you.  I always have.  It’s you that’s been distant.”

He lets his hips piston into you achingly slow.  Watching as tears well up in your eyes.  “He’s never coming back, and all I want is you.  And his daughter.”

“Our daughter,” you sob, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him as close as possible to you.  “She’s yours.  You’re all she knows.  And I wanna give you a baby.  I really do.”

“Shh,” he cries right along with you.  Peppering kisses over every inch of skin that he can reach.  A steady pump into you has you melting into his touch.  Finally allowing yourself to fully fall for him.  Carter was never coming back.  And you had this amazing husband and father right in front of you.  

Gulping up at him, you smile as your orgasm builds up in your belly.  “Clark,” you whine, wanting so badly to hold him.  “Clark.”

“I know.  This is nice.  You’re right there, gripping me so tight,” crying out his name as your walls come crumbling down, he lets your hands go.  Grabbing onto the headboard as he rails into you.  Your nails cling tight to him.  You had never had him this way.  You had always yearned for more, but it was like the first time you were becoming one.  

“Cricket,” his voice sings out the perfect melody of your little nickname while he rocks into your body.  “Cricket…I….”

“Clark, I love you,” you whisper on his shoulder, giving the freckled skin a lingering kiss.  “I love our life.  I really do,” with one final thrust into you, he settles his weight, grabbing your chin to crash into your mouth for a bruising kiss.  The both of your tears mix together, both of you knowing that you couldn’t push him out for a ghost.  The love for Carter would always be there, but your love for Clark had finally grown.  

“I love you, so much,” he whispers your name, before rolling the two of you over.  Letting his softened cock slip out of you while he pets along your hair.  “And if all we ever have is Charlotte, that’s good enough for me.  Good enough for us,” his hands brush up and down your back as you start to drift asleep.  At peace with your life for the first time.

“Daddy, wake up,” Charlotte taps on Clark’s nose, ignoring your arm wrapped around his stomach, and your face smooshed up against his back.  “Daddy!”

“Lottie,” Clark groans, peeking open one of his eyes.  “Why are you up so early?”

“I made the baby a pize,” she giggles, and he sits up stretching.  Leaning back to give you a quick peck, and his hand splays over your little swollen belly.  “Daddy!”

“I’m coming.  I’m coming,” he yawns, forgoing a shirt to follow his daughter into her nursery.  “Oh…Lottie…that’s…that’s a lot of paint.”

“Look it,” she points at her table, giggling at her work of art.  “Baby a boy?”

“Mommy and I won’t know until it’s born, but,” he squats down, holding his arms open wide for the toddler to run into his arms, “They’re going to have the best big sister who wakes up early just to make them a surprise,” she twists her body around a bit before rushing into his arms.

“Hey, mommy.”

“Hey, sweetheart.  You’re getting paint on daddy’s back.  Does mommy need to give you both a bath?”

“Yep.” “Cricket!”

“I feel da baby,” letting Charlotte down, she waddles over to you, putting both hands and her face on your belly.  “Baby, you mine, okay?  Henny?”

“Yes, Lottie, if your mommy has a boy he’ll be Henry Carter, and if she’s a girl?”

“No girl.  Onwy boy, k?  Go, I cean up.  Go out!  I cean.”

Giggling, the two of you leave your daughter to clean up her disaster, getting into the hallway where you rub up and down Clark’s chest, “You happy, daddy?”

“Never been happier.  She’s pretty sweet, huh?” Giving him a nod, you pull him down for a sweet kiss.  Letting his hand roam around your belly as he tries to find his baby’s kicks.  Saturday mornings were your favorite.  Lazy, and together.  “Not much longer, and maybe we’ll have us a boy.”

“We’re definitely going to have our hands full.  Two babies.”

“Me a big giwl!”

“She is a big girl, Cricket.  She can speak to us now.”

“Yeah, and she thinks every time we have sex that there’s something wrong with the pipes, because that’s what you told her that noise was.”

“What was I supposed to tell her?  You really need to work on being quieter,” you give him an eye roll, heading towards the bedroom to get ready for the day.  “Yeah, I came up with a good excuse.”

“Daddy! You need to fix da pipes.  They loud,” Clark throws his head back looking at the ceiling as Charlotte pokes her head out of her room.  “Caww a pummew.”

“Yes, Lottie, darling.  Daddy is going to call a plumber.  I think it’s time for Lottie’s bedroom to be the furthest one from mommy and daddy’s.”

“Nope.  My oom as my table,” he chuckles at his daughter, going to get dressed as well.  Today was a great day to spend it outside on her swing set.  It wouldn’t be long until she wouldn’t be getting as much of your attention, and it would be all left to him.  

“I see!  I see!” Charlotte makes grabby hands towards Clark, standing on her tippy toes trying to get a good look at her baby.  “Daddy!”

“Come here, you,” he lifts her up, sitting her on your bed as she looks at the baby.  “Well, what do you think of your baby brother?”

“Hmm…Henny!”

“Shh, baby.  Henry is sleeping,” you press a finger up against her lips, trying to calm her.

“How he know me if he not see me?”

“He’ll learn to know you, sweetheart,” Clark pushes the blanket further away from his son’s face, and Henry squeaks in his sleep, causing Charlotte to move further away from him.  “Don’t be afraid.  I promise Henry can’t hurt you.”

“Hims ittle,” she smiles up at you, looking so much like Carter it hurts your heart. 

“You were even smaller, my darling,” she looks up at you before back at Henry shaking her head no.  “Yes, yes you were.  You looked like your little baby doll laying against daddy’s chest.  It was your favorite place to sleep.”

“Weawwy?” Clark leans around her to kiss her cheek.  “Can I seep der tonight?  Henny can have you.”

“Lottie, you sleep wherever you want to.”

“Clark, don’t give her ideas.  You can nap wherever you want to.  Nighttime, you’re in your big girl bed, okay?”

“Fine.  Henny, I wike you, but dis,” she pulls Clark’s hand to her cheek, nuzzling in close to him.  “Dis my daddy fiwst.  I shawe, but me don’t wanna.”

“Lottie,” Clark chastises.  

“Me wiww shawe dough.  Me just don’t wanna,” you take a deep breath, looking amongst your family.  This wasn’t at all how you envisioned your life.  But it was good, and it was safe.  Clark loved you, and you loved him.  Had learned to navigate trust and understanding with him.  He no longer felt like he was playing second fiddle to Carter, but he also knew that you loved him differently than his friend.  But here you were with him, and his two babies.  

Charlotte knew she had an angel dad, but didn’t understand what that meant.  She just knew that she loved Clark, and acted as if he had hung the moon.  Clark was her hero, and he honestly was yours as well.  Stepped up when he didn’t have to.  Defended you to the town, and even made an honest woman of you.  Took on the role as a father so well, and he loved every second of it.  

But you would be lying if you said you didn’t envision Carter’s face when you gave birth to Charlotte.  Every one of her milestones it was like you could see his ghost smiling behind her.  He wanted her, possibly more than you did.  But at least you could say that you had a piece of him with you for always.  As did Clark.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @softsatnin​​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @charmed-asylum​ @cjand10​

[superbat-love]

Bruce blinked. The woman in front of him looked like Wonder Woman, but there were subtle differences that immediately raised alarm bells in his mind. However, his main focus was on the baby cradled in her arms.

“The future of my world looks bleak, Bruce Wayne. So many lives were lost in the war. This child here is your son. Or rather, the Bruce in my timeline. Unfortunately, the child has lost both his parents and has no one else to care for him.” Without any hesitation, she handed the baby over to Bruce.

Bruce stared at the baby as he gurgled happily in his arms. “I know you will have a lot of questions for me, but unfortunately I am unable to answer them as my time here is running out. I place my trust in you, Bruce, to keep this child safe.”

Before Bruce could utter a word, Wonder Woman took a step back and there was a flash of bright white light. Bruce shielded his and the baby’s eyes from the blinding light. When he looked back, she was gone. And so was the baby.

***

Clark’s phone rang. Without glancing at the screen, he accepted the call. “Bruce?”

“Clark, I need your help. Someone dropped off a baby in my house,” said Bruce. Clark felt his eyebrows raise.

“A baby? What in the world? Is it yours?”

“Something like that. But the reason I’m calling is because I need you get the baby down.”

“Down? What do you mean?”

“This baby can fly, Clark. He’s currently hanging upside down from my ceiling. I tried to grab him with a fishing net, but he started crying and now my living room is covered in icicles from his ice breath.”

[sweet-prroncito]

Based on @susiecarter 's amazing fic that I read two days ago, Tell all the Truth (but tell it slant) 🦇💫

Bc I absolutely adored it and it was mmmmwah, chef's kiss~! ✨️🥺💕

This month I've read a shameful amount of superbat fics, and in all confidence I can say, this one goes in my top 5~

Go make yourself a favor an reAD IT