#wip: mirrorverse!clark and kon's daddy issues

[suzukiblu]

Mirrorverse Clark for wip Wednesday? Hope you’re not too overwhelmed with all the asks you’re probably getting

Superman settles him on his feet much more carefully than Kon would’ve expected him to, and Kon tries to lock his knees so he won’t crumple the moment the other lets go, but Superman . . . doesn’t let go. What he does, in fact, is loop an arm around him and splay a hand across the small of his back, and lift his other hand to touch Kon’s jaw. Tilt it. Kon feels a little dazed, and doesn’t quite . . . 

“Such a gift,” Superman murmurs approvingly. 

And then Superman kisses him. 

Kon makes–a noise. 

Kon almost fucking collapses. 

He doesn’t even know how to kiss back. 

“Come to bed, baby,” Superman coaxes before kissing him again, and Kon can’t possibly do anything else. 

Not for Superman.

[suzukiblu]

could we get a mirrorverse for wip wednesday?

"R-really?" he chokes, and hates the way his voice cracks around the question. Hates the part of him that thinks–that–that–

Superman smiles at him the way Clark never does. 

"Really," he says, and then he buries himself to the root in Kon and Kon can't help the way his body clutches up and clenches around him and–and–

Superman said he'd come in him. Get him pregnant. That he'd give him a baby. 

Give him his baby. 

To keep. 

Kon is aware that this version of Clark is almost definitely a supervillain or at least completely morally bankrupt, but also this version of Clark has known him for about five fucking minutes and likes him. 

This version of Clark took one look at him and liked him. 

Kon is not going to be able to be okay about that.

[suzukiblu]

idk if you wanted non-english music recs but i think “move” by taemin fits the mood of mirrorverse!clark + kon perfectly <3

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Superman asks gently, and it takes everything Kon has not to beg him not to leave him. For one thing, he’s not sure this Superman wouldn’t listen, and that’d be . . . a problem, definitely. That’d be–definitely that’d be a problem. 

It would, he tells himself, and tries very hard to remember that fact. 

“I want you, Daddy,” he says instead, and hopes to fuck it doesn’t sound like “please want ME”. 

Superman smiles down at him again, and it’s nothing like Clark has ever, ever smiled at him. 

Jon gets that smile. Not him.

Kon does, in fact, turn out to be enough of a freak to burst into tears. 

[suzukiblu]

For song edition WIP Wednesday! Mirrorverse!Clark and Kon's Daddy Issues, Eat Your Young by Hozier. I'm getting "I'm starvin', darlin', Let me put my lips to somethin', Let me wrap my teeth around the world" vibes from Mirror!Clark

Superman pulls back just enough to smile down at him, tender and terrible, and Kon feels trapped and revolted and like he could fucking cry. There’s nothing about Superman that isn’t terrifying; that isn’t all the worst things he’s ever felt. 

Even Lex wanted him for something. Clark . . . Clark just . . . 

“Please, Daddy,” Kon pleads again, trying not to actually be enough of a freak to burst into tears right now, and Superman cups the side of his face and rubs the pad of his thumb along the underside of his eye very, very lightly.

[suzukiblu]

DADDY ISSUES!!!

"Definitely a better class of homage," Superman murmurs, and Kon doesn't even know what that means but really doesn't care right now. Superman thinks he's good. Superman thinks he's better. 

He is not compartmentalizing well at all.

"Don't you fit so well in my arms. And so well on my cock," Superman says appreciatively, his tone all low, easy praise, and Kon shakes all over and nearly comes again. "Like you were made just for me." 

"For you," Kon agrees, and the words come out desperate and strangled but undeniable. He tries to move with Superman's grip on his hips; tightens himself up around him and tries not to lose his fucking mind. "All for you, anything you want, I–is it–is it good? Do you–do you like it?" 

He is really, really not compartmentalizating well. 

"Oh, I like you plenty, Kon-El," Superman says, smiling wider again and pulling Kon down harder onto his cock, and Kon barely bites back a heated sob. He feels like the fucking sun. "Such a good boy for me. So eager to please, and so grateful to be right where you belong. So well-made, wearing my crest and earning my name. Such a gift." 

Kon is pretty sure he never actually knew how to compartmentalize at all, at this point. There's just no damn way he ever did. 

"Daddy," he says, and this time it's definitely a sob. "Please, please, please don't stop–" 

He can't even pretend he's talking about the sex. 

"That's it, baby," Superman says, his voice practically a croon. "You're doing so good. This pretty cunt of yours is so tight. Can you take all of me?" 

"Yes, Daddy," Kon chokes, because whether he can or can't, it's Superman asking. 

"Good boy," Superman repeats approvingly, and yanks Kon's body down his cock. Kon doesn't really have the breath to scream, but he tries to. Superman really is the biggest he's ever had by far, much bigger than any partner he's ever been with or any toy he's ever used, and he's pretty sure he's coming again after all. No one's ever fucked him this deep or this hard. No one's ever stretched him open this far or moved him this easily or just held him like this. 

Used him like this. 

He still wants to be sick, but his greedy cunt and neglected cock and desperate need to hear Superman keep calling him good are not at all aligned with the program there. 

And Superman still just looks so pleased.

[suzukiblu]

👀 mirror!Clark/kon for WIP Wednesday?

"Such a good whore, Kon-El," Superman murmurs admiringly. "You're making your daddy so proud, baby." 

Kon definitely, definitely sobs this time. 

"Please," he begs, and Superman fucks him harder. Faster. Harder. And Kon can't keep up, but his body can still take it. Is going to feel this for days and maybe even actually bruise, definitely, but can take it.

"I'm going to come in you, baby," Superman says, watching him intently. Looking at him. "I'll give you what they made you for. You've earned it." 

Kon is halfway out of his mind and barely understands what Superman is even saying, but it–but it sounds like he means–

"Will you like that, Kon-El?" Superman asks. "A real baby. Not one designed in a lab. One you can keep for yourself." 

Nevermind. Kon is completely out of his mind, actually.

[suzukiblu]

Happy Hump day! have you got more of mirrorverse!Clark and Kon’s daddy issues both get some for WIP wednesday?

“Do you want . . . ?” Kon trails off; licks his lips not really on purpose. Superman looks amused. 

“Oh, I want a lot of things from you, Kon,” he says, and then Kon's suddenly getting grabbed up off the floor in a burst of speed and his legs are spread wide, knees hooked over Superman's thick arms and hands reflexively grabbing onto those big shoulders, and Superman's big thick cock is rubbing up right against his dripping cunt, sliding against his too-wet, too-sensitive folds. 

Kon makes a noise. 

Superman smiles at him. 

"Aren't you sweet," he says approvingly. "So wet for me." 

"Superman," Kon chokes helplessly, and kind of hates himself for it. Superman tilts his head, his expression still idly amused and his dick hot and hard and pressed in so, so close to where Kon doesn't want it, and also desperately wants it. Or–or maybe "want" is the wrong word, but–

"You don't have to be so formal, Kon," Superman says, looking just as amused. "You can call me 'Daddy' when my cock isn't in your mouth.” 

Kon nearly bites his own tongue. 

"Daddy," he croaks. 

"Good boy," Superman says, smiling wider at him, and then fucking spears him on his dick. Kon loses every scrap of air in his lungs and immediately comes. Just that fucking easy, his own cock completely untouched and without any real stimulation or anything else happening at all. 

And Superman keeps smiling at him through it. 

He also fucks him through it, and Kon is in no way enough in control of his body to be anything but a goddamn sex toy for it. Superman moves him up and down his dick with effortless ease, too fast and too hard for anyone else to ever manage, like he's a stroker or a doll or just not a person at all.

Kon can't breathe well enough to wail, so instead he moans and whimpers and keens.  

"Daddy," he gasps out breathlessly, clutching at Superman's shoulders with shaking hands, because he can't think clearly enough to say anything else right now, "Daddy, Daddy, thank you, Daddy–" 

He tells himself he doesn't know why he's saying that.

[suzukiblu]

and second, mirrorverse clark and kon's daddy issues my beloved 💕

Kon should’ve asked for a condom, probably. Or definitely. He has no idea if full-blooded Kryptonians can actually carry STIs or anything, especially when getting into the interdimensional shit. But Superman didn’t mention it, and . . . and he . . . 

And he’s just following his lead like a fucking idiot instead of fucking taking care of himself, because of fucking course he is. Of course he’s doing that. 

He’d wonder why he was this stupid, but he knows exactly why he’s this stupid, considering whose cock is currently in his throat. 

Superman makes a low, appreciative noise, tracing his thumb along the stretched-open corner of Kon’s mouth, and then tightens the hand he has on the back of his head and fucks his mouth. Kon should choke. Kon should probably vomit, in fact, as rough as Superman’s being with him right now.

He doesn’t. 

Not for Superman.

[suzukiblu]

Oooh mirrorverse Clark and Kon for Wip Wednesday? That one is so good omg

Superman smiles, and then he lays a hand on Kon’s stomach, which flips at the contact. 

And he slips his other hand into the front of Kon’s suit and down behind his cock and between his thighs to cup his cunt. 

Kon is already embarrassingly wet and sensitive, but the way he fucking drips for that is goddamn mortifying. 

Superman just smiles wider.

“I think you'd make a wonderful mother, Kon Kal-El,” he says lightly, and Kon’s brain tries to fritz out completely. He's not–he’s not a woman, obviously, but he knows what that naming convention means, for Kryptonians. That's supposed to be–

That's meant to be the father's name. 

And Superman is–Superman is touching him, Superman’s touching him somewhere he usually doesn’t let anyone touch him, and . . . 

And Superman thinks he’d be a good . . . “mother”. 

And he called him . . .

[suzukiblu]

mirrorverse!Clark PLEASE

When Cadmus made him–when they made him, they had . . . contingency plans. Just in case. They had . . . in case he didn’t come out good enough and they needed to upgrade the design, or in case they managed to create a fully-Kryptonian embryo, or . . . 

Kon’s cock is hard from this, and his cunt is fucking soaked from this. As wet and dripping as his well-fucked mouth, he’s pretty sure, and feeling–feeling–

Empty. 

Kon doesn’t . . . use it much with other people, because he doesn’t usually feel comfortable enough to let anyone fuck him like that, but . . . but right now, he . . . right now, he–

If Superman wants it, he’s going to let him have it, he already knows. 

He’s going to let Superman have way too goddamn much of him, because when hasn’t he?

[suzukiblu]

For WIP Wednesday mirror!verse Clark and Kon's daddy issues please! It's soososos good and fucked up, just the way I like it :)

“You’re doing so well,” Superman murmurs, stroking the curve of Kon’s cheek with his free hand and fucking his mouth hard enough that it actually hurts, and he sounds almost–adoring, almost. Kon wants to cry over it. Wants to ask for more of it. 

Earn more of it. 

He tries to work his mouth around him; tries to roll his tongue up tight and suck tight and keep his lips sealed. He can’t control the pace at all, but he can do that much. Superman sighs in satisfaction and fists his hand painfully in his hair. Kon moans, wanting the vibration of the sound to make it better for him. Superman tightens the hand in his hair. 

“Just like that, Kon,” he rumbles, breathless and approving and definitely adoring this time. Kon feels–gross. Bad. Disgusting, a little. There’s drool dripping down his chin and his jaw already aches and Superman’s cock is in his mouth and he can taste it. He can’t even get a hand on it, because Superman’s fucking his throat too deep for that. Superman is using his mouth like it’s just a convenient hole that can’t feel anything, can’t have an opinion about what he’s doing to it, and Superman is praising him for that. “Oh, your mouth is so sweet. So eager. Do you want me to kiss you that badly?” 

Kon does.

Yeah. This isn’t ending well for his compartmentalization skills.

[suzukiblu]

I'd also love some Mirrorverse!Clark for WIP please and thank you!

Kon melts into Superman’s arms; wraps his own around him tighter. Kisses back as best as he can manage to. Superman makes a little approving noise, then guides him over to the bed and presses him down into the mattress and doesn’t stop kissing him for a moment. If Kon has ever in his life had higher thought processes, they are gone. Useless. Pointless. Irrelevant. 

Superman kisses him again and Kon can taste him. 

“Daddy,” he pleads as he presses up into him, and he’s already come, he just came, but he just feels so empty. 

Except he’s not, if Superman actually got him pregnant. If Superman actually . . . 

He’s in Superman’s bed, and Superman is kissing him, and he’s not empty like he feels. And Superman isn’t just–isn’t sending him out the door the first chance he gets, isn’t . . . isn’t leaving him the first chance he gets. 

Isn’t leaving him alone.

[suzukiblu]

Mirror!Clark and Kon's Daddy Issues for WIP Wednesday? 🥺

Superman slides the pads of his fingers between the folds of Kon’s cunt, and Kon can’t even pretend to stifle the whimper. He grabs onto Superman’s arms, not really meaning to, and Superman slips two thick fingers inside him and his body takes them so easily, so eagerly–

“I really do appreciate how grateful you are, Kon-El,” Superman sighs in obvious satisfaction as he curls his fingers, and Kon’s knees go weak. 

“Thank you, sir,” he says unevenly, feeling like he’s about to be sick and also like if Superman ever stops looking at him he’s just going to curl up and die. “I–please, I–” 

“Clothes off,” Superman reminds him as he reclaims his fingers. Kon bites back a whine of either loss or relief and tries not to notice how sticky and slick they are, but it’s impossible not to notice. Fuck. Fuck, he’s such a–“Well. Maybe put the jacket back on, come to think.” 

“Huh?” Kon manages, a little too dizzy to understand why he’s . . . 

Superman smiles at him again, and touches the place on his shoulder where the El crest usually sits. 

“It suits you, doesn’t it?” he says. 

“O-oh,” Kon realizes, and feels his face burn.

[suzukiblu]

gentle?

Kon had grinned at him again and stepped in a little closer, 'til they were in each other's space for longer than just one super-speed blur, and Superman had put a hand on his face and gripped his jaw. Turned his face from side to side to inspect.

And then he'd smiled and said, "Look at you," and now they're here.

"Rather look at you, honestly," Kon says, and Superman's smile widens. It looks exactly like their Superman's, but it also looks dangerous.

Kon doesn't know this version of Clark. Doesn't know anything about him at all, except for how fast he could rip the planet in half if he felt like it.

Hell, he might not even be a "Clark".

"I'm looking just where I want to be too," Superman murmurs, low and approving and without taking his eyes off Kon for a moment, and Kon feels some very bad things that are gonna really fuck with his compartmentalization here. Like really, really gonna fuck with it. "You're certainly a better class of homage than I'm used to, Kon-El."

"Thank you, sir," Kon says, the words slipping out maybe a little too easily. Superman's smile widens again and he gives Kon's jaw a gentle little squeeze that could crush steel, then drops his hand away.

Kon misses it immediately.

So that's bad, definitely.

[suzukiblu]

Cutting myself off at four so I don’t send a million /silly

Do it for me by Rosenfeld for mirrorverse!clark and Kon’s daddy issues both get some

Maybe he fell asleep, Kon thinks vaguely as Superman smoothes a heavy, appreciative hand up his side. Or–well, passed out, anyway. 

It’s fine if he did, he guesses. He can feel the ship’s engines still aren’t running, and Superman doesn’t seem annoyed or upset with him, and it’s not like he would’ve stopped the other from doing whatever he might’ve done to him while he was out, so . . . yeah. It’s fine, he guesses. 

Is this, like . . . an afterglow thing? Is Superman actually . . . holding him, or . . . ?

[suzukiblu]

Garbage's "#1 Crush" for mirrorverse!Clark and Kon’s daddy issues both get some! 🩵

It’s a very long time before Superman’s done with him–Kon loses track of the rounds, loses track of how many times they both come, but also wasn’t really in any state of mind to try and keep track–and even once he is, Kon somehow ends up all wrapped up in the other’s arms.

He ends up half-awake on his side on the broken mattress and half-tangled in the ruined sheets. This bed does not count as a usable “bed” anymore, he’s pretty sure, though he doesn’t even remember how they broke it so bad. Superman’s pressed up against his back, mouthing gently up the back of his neck and petting the line of his hip. Kon feels exhausted and dazed and all sore and out of sorts, and the last thing he really clearly remembers he was fucking himself on Superman’s cock, riding him as best he could while Superman watched him; while Superman stroked his sides and smiled up at him and told him what a good job he was doing for him. 

That’s clearly not the last thing they did, though, because Superman’s cock is inside him right now, not fully hard or fucking him anymore but still filling up his tender, aching cunt like nothing else ever has. Even with his body this thoroughly used, Superman still feels like so much to take. 

Of course he does, though.