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#Superman Fanfiction
angelltheninth · 6 months
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Clark Kent Praises and Tries to Keep You Quiet
Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, praise kink, keeping quiet, size kink, moaning, Clark being a gentle giant
A/N: This big beautiful himbo lives rent free in my brain.
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"Baby, I need you to keep it down a little. Jimmy just went to sleep." The times you fucked in at Clark's place were far and few between as it was only done if both of you were so horny you couldn't hold out. The two of you barely made it to the living room before Clark thrust his cock into your pussy and lifted you into the air, one hand at the back of your neck, the other in the middle of your back, and your legs wrapped tight around his broad hips. He couldn't keep his lips away from yours, not only to quiet you but also because he missed you so damn much through the day, he couldn't help himself.
Keeping your noises down was easier when you had his lips to keep your occupied but when Clark moved down your neck and took a nipple into his mouth you had to try really hard to keep quiet. There was also the splitting feeling of his cock ramming into your pussy as it kept clenching impossibly tighter around him, the wonderful warm feeling that made him moan as well, but then again you found out very early into your relationship that he couldn't stay quiet around you.
It was a real conundrum for the both of you. You loved hearing each other's noises, whines, praise and whimpers but at the same time you needed to keep each other quiet so you wouldn't wake his roommate up and have Clark face eternal teasing as a result.
"Bit more sweetheart, just a bit more. Stay quiet for me okay? Damn it, you feel so amazing around my cock." Clark begged, slamming his cock balls deep inside of you, lips on yours in an instance, a kiss that silenced the resulting moans the best as it could. You almost bit his tongue as a reaction as your orgasm hit you, every part of your body going tense and then fully slack in his muscular arms, including your legs which now dangled at his sides.
He kept moving, hips a blur, balls smacking against you, moaning into your mouth, kissing you with every ounce of passion and love he had to give. Clark was a big man, he had a lot to give, not just his feelings but his cum too which painted your inner walls in rapid waves. He floated you both onto the couch when he was done, his arms keeping you close to his warm both, his kisses now much more gentle, "I think you were louder. You might wanna look into buying your own place if you wanna keep doing this Clark."
His chest rose and feel with a big, content, happy sigh, his cock still snug inside your pussy, "I'll see what I can do about both those things. In the morning." You wanted to tell him that the Sun was almost up anyway but he looked to comfortable to disturb. You could cuddle for a bit longer.
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comiicii · 1 month
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Backdrop: Life had been mundane until you met Clark Kent.
Pairing: clark kent x fem!reader
Warnings: None, probably some grammatical errors and a little sadness if you’re a sap like me.
A's notes: inspired by ariana grande’s new album eternal sunshine, i’ll be doing a series of one shots based on the songs. they’ll be in no particular order and will be written for other characters but some will be featured more than once if they fit the song i’m writing about. ��we cant be friends’ has me crying whenever i watch the video and i tear up a lot listening to it so enjoy this train wreck of a story.
Word count: 3.8k
For as long as you could remember, life was nothing special. It wasn’t horrible but you woke up most days simply doing work and trying to advance your career. Your life was mundane and filled with memories of you alone after moving to Metropolis. That was until you met him. Clark Kent. You had bumped into each other on your way into the Daily Planet for an interview. Well, it was actually you bumping into his broad chest and him catching you before you hit the marble floor. The softness in his deep ocean blue eyes were what made your heart do something it had never done. It felt like a pull in your chest that you hadn’t felt before. As if the universe made sense. Once you finally registered his apologies, you came to your senses and tried to apologize for not watching where you were going. Then he smiled. Now your stomach fluttered. That was not something your body usually did when it came to people. After he introduced himself, it was as if the world had color to it again.
It would be an understatement to say that you fell for Clark Kent. You deeply fell for Clark. Words could not express the love you instantly felt for him. And he fell just as hard for you. When he revealed his true identity to you, it only solidified the endless bounty of your love for him since he was willing to trust you with every part of himself that he didn’t share with the rest of the world. Life seemed to finally be worth living and getting up for. Every morning you rose with the sun and slowly forgot about those meek feelings that used to fill your body.
It wasn’t hard for the two of you to make some of the happiest memories together. Your then-apartment had been littered with trinkets that marked your happiest moments with Clark. Like the teddy bear he won for you when he took you to a carnival in his Kansas hometown. Or the homemade picture frame that had a silly selfie Clark took of the two of you while at work. Once you moved in together, the apartment you shared was filled with more memories the two of you made together. As a house warming gift, he presented you with a beautiful pendant necklace with both your birthstones that came together to make a heart. It’s a necklace you wear everyday and became a reminder that someone loved you unconditionally. When he proposed to you atop the ferris wheel, the ring was designed to match the necklace. Your wedding was small and intimate with just friends and family in attendance on the Kent family farm. It was the highlight of your life to be marrying the man of your dreams.
Life wasn’t always perfect with Clark though. Sharing your boyfriend (and eventual husband) with the world was not the easiest task to undertake but when he came home to you, those insecurities subsided. But those pesky feelings still lingered. Feelings of being unwanted and insecurities plagued the back of your mind. Besides, the Daily Planet constantly wrote puff pieces of his alter ego - with a few being written by you. As time passed and the world became more cruel, it became harder to keep those thoughts hidden. Little by little, those insecurities reared their ugly heads that led to some of the lowest of lows in your life since meeting Clark. He didn’t seem to understand why you were feeling as such and justified his work that it was his life’s purpose. And you didn’t seem to understand why he couldn’t empathize with your feelings. You stood by him through thick and thin. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly that came with being Superman. You weren’t perfect either, though. You were an ambitious reporter and were climbing up in your career at the Daily Planet. Your work also came with some ugliness as you advanced in your career. This meant that the two of you were in the spotlight for your work. Two very different spotlights but spotlights nonetheless.
It hit particularly hard the one argument that ensued after he missed your first wedding anniversary. It was an important milestone that you had planned out for weeks. You had made reservations at the restaurant you had your first date on and he didn’t make an appearance until the morning hours of the following day. You had looked like a fool at the restaurant; patrons giving you looks of pity as you sipped on your water and twiddled your thumbs like a fool waiting for him. When he greeted you with a bouquet of lilies - the first drop of uneasiness touched your chest. You weren’t happy to see him. To see his sweet face you’d kissed good morning the morning before. To see his ocean eyes that carried such sincerity because he had broken a promise to you. He could see that he couldn’t avoid a fight with you because you didn’t look at him with love. Your eyes were filled with disappointment. The argument that ensued ended with him leaving for most of the day as you sobbed into your pillow. When he had returned you had awoken only to softly cry yourself to sleep again.
It took two days for the two of you to speak again and work through the argument. You both tried to be more mindful and quickly moved on from the unhappy moment. A part of you was content with the conversation and hopeful for what was to come with Clark. It wasn’t the first fight you two had but it was the first that hurt you so deeply.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for the day you had asked for a divorce from Clark. It wasn’t something you planned but it wasn’t something you hadn’t contemplated in the recent year after your third wedding anniversary. It had come out of your mouth after another argument that was going nowhere. You had argued about how you were growing apart - how you had taken time off after planning to go away for a small vacation just the two of you and he wasn’t putting in the effort. He had come home late but it wasn’t because of him being Superman. It was because he worked late with Lois Lane on a story after he had told you that morning he’d be home to go on the trip. You were prepared to forgive him if it was because of his Superman duties but this was the last straw.
You weren’t the jealous type but even at work, it seemed like the two of you barely spoke as the years progressed. He got paired up with Lois for more stories and you didn’t like the sinking twist of your stomach whenever you saw Clark with her. They looked cute together and probably the office assumed he was sleeping with her given how flirty they tended to be (at least she was). The first time he noticed how much it bothered you, he assured you with his words and actions that he felt nothing for the reporter. He went as far as to give you a passionate kiss in the middle of the office, in front of Lois, as you bid him goodbye to go to an interview for a story you were writing. It had made you weak in the knees and you were close to pulling him into the archives room to continue the passion but you simply blushed and told him you loved him with the most love struck smile on your face. That squashed those insecurities for a while until you started noticing how close they’d sit together while brainstorming or how he began to stay later with her to work on a story. You tried not to be the jealous wife but you couldn’t help the green monster that was building on your fears and insecurities. The few times you brought it up afterwards, Clark was dismissive about your feelings. It hurt you. Hurt how little he seemed to care about your feelings.
From there, arguments were becoming more common. Filled with silence or one of you leaving the apartment for some time. It had become common practice to not speak to each other and eventually move on from the argument. You hated that your marriage had come to this point. After the last argument, you had left the apartment this time. You checked into a hotel and went to the bar for a drink. You looked at your ring and a tear ran down your cheek realizing that it didn’t give you hope. It didn’t give you the feeling you were hoping for because deep down, you knew that you couldn’t continue in the marriage if it wasn’t going to be mended. You had run the course of the marriage and it pained you. When you returned two days later, Clark was making lunch for both of you. He was prepared to go on the trip and put the argument behind. Your heart was racing because you didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to end something you had hoped would never end but it had to end. You needed to be the one to make Clark realize that the two of you weren’t going to get the happy ending. Not with each other. You were prepared for him to be upset and yell and express every reasonable emotion. When you uttered those terrible words, he simply froze and you could see his heart shatter from the look he gave you because he knew you were going to see the divorce through. The day ended with you packing your things and going back to the hotel, retaining a divorce lawyer and hunting for apartments. You had managed to find a job as a journalist for a small paper and put in your two weeks at the Daily Planet. By the end of it all, all you gave Clark was a letter asking for forgiveness for ending your marriage. Detailing all the love you had for him was genuine and would always remain but that for now, your paths had to separate. You ended the letter acknowledging that the two of you couldn’t be friends but that you’d wait for that day to come. Wait for the day that he’d like you again. You’d wait for his love again.
Clark’s heartbreak was just about close to unbearable as he didn’t pull his punches during missions and even Bruce had to pull him back from time to time. He had clung to that letter you wrote him and cried so hard the day he received it. Beating himself up for letting one of the most important people in his life feel the need to cut ties with him. Letting you feel like you had to end your story together. You weren’t fairing much better. For the first few months, you were crying yourself to sleep almost daily. Life had become mundane and when you thought of Clark, it became sad and lonely. You hated the pain you felt in your chest that had spread to your whole body.
A coworker at your new job had seen how sad you were about your divorce and handed you an ad about Wayne Enterprises having technology that claimed to erase people from your memory. A part of you didn’t think such a thing existed but you knew Bruce wouldn’t build something if it didn’t work. When Bruce Wayne saw your name on the list of possible subjects, he reached out to you. Meaning, he paid a visit at your current apartment that was now closer to Gotham. You had known Bruce through Clark and knew of his alter-ego as well. Batman had actually saved you a few times when you were in Gotham chasing leads and doing interviews. When he first met you, Clark and you had been together for a year and had been invited to one of Bruce’s fancy charity events. He had seen how in love you two were. He hadn’t seen Clark so happy before you came into his life and he could see the adoration you held for the Kryptonian. Clark had even said to him that night that he was going to marry you. It warmed his heart to see how happy you two had made each other in such a short period of time.
You had ironically decided to have the procedure done on what would’ve been your fourth wedding anniversary. You looked down at the box that contained every memory attached to Clark. The receptionist had handed you a clipboard with a waiver to sign; giving Wayne Enterprises permission to move forward with the process. A nurse came out to call your name and you handed her the clipboard. She brought you inside and took the box of your memories. You sat down and took deep breaths, the nurse giving you a few minutes as she left to get he others for the procedure. You looked around at the room, it was meant to look comfortable given the severity of the process. There was a mirror on the wall to your right. You figured it was part of the original room and that maybe on the other side were boxes of other people’s memories.
On the other side of the mirror, Clark stood looking at your nervous self that waited for the technicians to arrive. Bruce had elected to do the procedure himself for his friend after informing him that you had signed up for it yourself. Clark had come in on the same day per Bruce’s request since he figured it was best for it to be done on the same day for the both of you. Clark had come in with a box full of memories connected to you. Pictures that he had of you and different items you had gotten him through the years such as the bracelet you made for him while he was away on a mission with the Justice League. You had put beads with your initials on the bracelet and just like you wore your necklace, he wore his bracelet. The box also contained a picture he had taken of you out on his parent’s farm the weekend he brought you home to meet Ma Kent. The box unsurprisingly contained a great deal of pictures of you that he took. Some silly ones, cute ones, romantic and his most cherished one was at the top of the pile. It was a picture of the two of you kissing on your wedding day. Clark had taken it himself with his digital camera he carried everywhere with him. His other favorite picture was one of you under the covers, smiling and looking so peaceful and happy as he took the picture, wearing one of his flannels. It was taken the morning after he proposed to you. You had a picture of Clark in your box that you had taken a few seconds after he took that photo. He didn’t want to put anything in the box and be selfish but he knew for it to work, he had to follow Bruce’s instruction. The one item that wasn’t in the box was the letter you wrote him after your divorce. The one that solidified your parting of ways. He gave the letter to Bruce and told him wished he hadn’t made you feel so hurt that you had to do this.
With that, the billionaire decided to tell his friend that this wasn’t the first time the two of you had gone through this procedure. Two years prior to the two of you meeting, you both had been together for three years and had a great falling out that ended the relationship. It was enough to bring the both of you, at separate times, to him and ask to have your memories of each other erased. Bruce wanted to tell you but the sadness reflected in your eyes was enough to keep his mouth shut. Maybe deep down you knew that this wasn’t the first time you wanted to erase Clark from your life. You loved him so deeply that the only way for life to move forward again, he had to be erased. Clark didn’t realize he was crying as he heard his friend recount the first time you two had come in and watched you play with the pendant necklace he gave you when you moved in together. He still remembers how nervous he was to gift it to you; worried it was not going to be your style. He remembers how his heart leaped when you squealed with joy at the present. His heart felt heavy knowing you still wore the necklace despite being divorced. It was bittersweet hope that maybe you’d be able to try again without having to do this. He wanted to break through the window and beg you not to forget him but he knew that once your mind was made up, you saw it through. So, he sat down and asked Bruce to erase his memories of your relationship. All Clark wanted was for you to be happy. If that meant erasing him, he would learn to live with that.
As you closed your eyes, recounting the countless memories you had made with Clark for the last five years, it was hard to hold back the few tears that wet your cheeks. Your breathing got heavy as Clark disappeared from your life. Your fingers reached for your necklace - the remaining piece of the love you were erasing from your entire being. You looked at the nurses beside you, asking with teary eyes if you could keep just this one memory for yourself. You softly begged them as one nurse held your hand and told you that it was going to be okay, that the process was almost complete. You took in a shaky breath and closed your eyes as your fingers cling to the pendant; feeling the final memory of Clark’s ocean eyes fade.
When you opened your eyes again, you were slightly disoriented but greeted with the kind face of the nurse. She asked if you were okay and you smiled. You knew whatever just happened, it worked because there was a lightness in your chest. It felt as though you were brand new. As you stood from the chair, you thanked everyone. Without noticing, Bruce Wayne had come in to the room to congratulate you on the success of the procedure. You thanked the billionaire and went about your day. You took in the crisp afternoon air of Gotham and headed back your apartment. Clark came out the building a few minutes after you.
A few years later, life was certainly different. You had landed a job working for the Gotham Gazette as the lead investigative reporter and had made a name for yourself. You were content with life but there was something missing. At night, you found yourself out on dates that never led anywhere. On the nights where it was particularly bad, you phoned your billionaire friend Bruce Wayne whom you grew closer to in the following years with working at the Gazette. He became a confidant for your woes and wishes of your life. Bruce had come to deeply care about you after you had the procedure. Part of the reason was because Clark asked him to look out for you since he wouldn’t be able to. He couldn’t help to grow close to you because you were that type of soul that brought a warmth and comfort he hadn’t felt since he lost his parents.
Clark had focused on his work in the following years of his procedure. He had struck a relationship with his coworker, Lois Lane. They had been together for three years but it wasn’t working. Mainly because Clark hadn’t felt he could spend his life with her. She was beautiful, smart, ambitious and just about everything he could ask for in a partner but there was something missing. He couldn’t put his finger on it and quite frankly it killed him to continue in a relationship he knew wasn’t going to end in marriage.
Bruce had invited you to his charity event to raise money for the orphaned children of Gotham. He always invited you since he knew it could be good for networking for you and every now and then, you would get a date out of it. Clark and the other Justice League members were in attendance for this event as they knew this was an important cause for Bruce. Clark had just broken up with Lois the week prior and had been sulking, He originally wasn’t going to attend the event but Bruce and the others convinced him that a night out would be good for him.
A couple of hours into the event and you find yourself feeling out of place. Especially with the dress you chose; it was from a thrift shop you had found in Gotham and it had more of a bohemian look to it rather than the posh aura the other attendees wore. Bruce had checked in with you a few times to make sure you were okay; knowing how intense the scene of the Gotham elite could be and assuring you in the process of how beautiful you looked. You found yourself at the bar, grabbing what seemed to be your fifth flute of champagne for the night. Your spacial awareness was starting to go so it wasn’t surprising when you bumped into a large figure at your side, spilling some of your drink on him. You were a mess apologizing to the man. You were expecting him to make fuss but it was a pleasant surprise when you heard him softly chuckling at you. You were flushed with embarrassment but when you stared into the eyes of the man, your heart stopped. Meeting his deep blue eyes spread a warmth the champagne earlier hadn’t achieved. His heart also seemed to stop upon meeting your gaze. Your eyes made him feel like he had finally come home after a long journey of searching.
To continue having you in his presence, he joked that you owed him a dance in order to make up for ever so slightly wetting the sleeve of his navy blue suit. Hearing the slight mischievous tone only made you laugh in agreement, a sound he already found addicting. When he pulled you close to him, you hoped he couldn’t hear how hard your heart was beating. As you followed his lead, you relaxed and he took the opportunity to ask for your name.
“Y/N.”
“Clark.”
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nouearth · 9 months
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for the greater good.
clark kent x male reader.
summary: clark is hurt, and his only remedy is you.
wc: 1.1k. genre: angst (kinda), comfort!fic. warnings: injured!clark, blood, newbie!superman, a monstrous villain has attacked metropolis!
notes: for some reason, i actually had a lot of trouble with this considering clark heals so fast, so i apologize for writing it so short! nonetheless, i hope you like it!
request by: anonymous.
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“guess you aren’t exactly super, after all…”  a small joke weathered on your tongue. usually, it tasted sweet. like a watermelon-flavored gummy, you’d reckon. but as you catalogued clark, stone-faced because you never liked to worry him, it came out bitter as if you chewed on tea leaves.
“(m/n), please…” clark always laughed at every one of your jokes. artificially at some, but nonetheless genuine because he liked seeing you satisfied with yourself.
today would be an exception. 
“sorry,” you watched him writhe in pain, sweat collecting near your forehead because you were scared. it was stomach-churning to watch the way clark held onto nothing but himself, enduring whatever had weakened him so bad during the fight that had torn the city apart. enduring pain he had never felt before because somehow, his invisible shield had shattered. a million of broken pieces scattered in the city and clark has never felt so… defeated. “i’ll- fuck, here.”
any attempts of quelling the unknown pain in his body have gone futile because clark wasn’t a human. or was he? honestly, you were still confused about his origins. rightfully so, because he completely dropped a bomb of information only a few weeks ago. you were still registering that clark kent was… superman. the man of steel, they’d occasionally call him. 
but as you pressed cotton pads to clark’s raw wound, he was neither of those names—simply clark.
“i thought you said you don’t bleed?” you kneeled beside him as clark sat against the wall, chest rising as he drew in every breath—every tremor. 
“i... don’t. at least, i thought i didn’t.” he calmed under your touch, seemingly allowing his muscles to soften with every tender stroke of your fingers. he watched you, hissing when the alcohol hit his wound—multiple wounds. “usually, i would be healed by now. if i bled, i wouldn’t have noticed, so this is all… new to me.”
“hm…” you were bewildered just as he was. his suit was torn at the chest, skin scuffed and wounded just like the other injuries, but nothing was out of the ordinary. your eyes examined every corner, every bruise, every cut, for god knows what. a venomous bite drawn by a vampire? a beheaded tech-zombie from outer space? 
nothing of that sort. 
it was only clark.
“how close was that thing to you?” you never witnessed it. clark hid you to safety, flew you somewhere far despite your protest. you could help, determined to help. you weren’t exactly sure how, but all you knew that it was unfair that you inhabited this space when it should’ve been a dedicated spot for civilians, for refugees.
“I… it was all a blur. i remember flying towards him—it. it charged right at me and next thing i know- ow-“ clark twitched and you kissed a sorry to his lips, rubbing his chest to alleviate the pattern of tremors that sent him into guttural groans. “i-i was on the ground, pummeled. couldn’t breathe because its fist… claws kept digging into me—at me—deeper, and harder, and…”
clark was new to this, all of this. saving people was part of his daily routine, but he never expected it to be like this. to have his city completely demolished. to have the beauty of civilian life destroyed, all within a few hours. the pain in him throbbed, his head stung, but determination powered him through. “i have to get back and-“
“hey, hey,” you were never stronger than him, would never be stronger, but somehow you managed to keep him down, pushing him back as you pressed kisses and more kisses to his lips, then cheek. “you do. you have to get back out there. but not like this. rest for a bit, think about what we can do to… heal you back up—i’ll do the same—and we can go-“
“no, you’re staying here.” his hold on your wrist tightened as if you were about to leave in this very moment. he was still strong, you can feel it.
“clark.” your voice was stern, an unusual counter that surprised clark, and his grip loosened. “i have to do something. people are dying, and i just can’t sit here. plus, it’s fucking cold here.”
“you’re too vulnerable. you can’t—it’s too dangerous for you. what happens if that thing finds you? then what?”
“then my three years of taekwondo will finally pay off because i’m going to kick some ass and—“
“(m/n).” it was like deja-vu, and you smiled, kissing him again. he returned it softly, sighing. “you can’t.”
“i have to. what would you have done if you didn’t have superpowers and this was all happening?”
“i—“ clark stammered.
“all those people running to safety, hope that they’re running to it. there would be kids, mothers, fathers, toddle—“ you explained, and clark looked down solemnly. 
“i would’ve… done my best to help them….” the symbol on his suit was shredded to pieces, baring his chest to the bite of cold.
“and why would you? even if you were defenseless as i am right now?”
“because i want to.” clark said quietly, then louder, “because i can.”
“humans—good humans at least—do the right thing.” your voice has gone soft now, almost a whisper as you looked out to the field of night sky. you weren’t sure if you were imagining it, but you can see smoke billowing from afar. “even if we make mistakes during the process. or if we happened to sacrifice our life to spare death for a few others…”
“we do it because we can,” clark’s hand squeezed into yours, watching you in awe because your features shined even more in the moonlight. “that’s our superpower, i guess. our only one, and it’s worrying that not many people seem to recognize it—utilize it.”
you turned to face him again, and even though it hurt clark to sit up and lean closer, you’ve become the source of his power. a strong will to motivate him to do better. 
to be better—he finalized when he kissed you, sweet and gentle. he could feel warmth be brought back to his lifeblood when the light illuminated your silhouettes, sparkling. tremors became gentle waves, then static noise, and he hummed contently before pulling away.
“no taekwondo.” he cupped your cheeks as if that would make your hearing clearer.
“but-“ your lips pursed out from the applied pressure, like a goldfish.
“and all you’re going to do is lead people. i’ll find something—somewhere—we can harbor them to.”
“i—okay, fair.”
“and you’re going to wear a suit. i have some old tights-“
“gross-“
“and,”
“jesus, clark—“
“i love you.” clark caressed your skin, honey practically seeping from his eyes as he gazed into you.
you leaned into the warmth of his palm, one side to the next, and sighed to the beat of his heart drumming with yours, a symphony. “i love you.”
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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hencvl · 11 months
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Mine. I [Remastered]
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Dark! Clark Kent x reader. Warnings: dark fic, forced marriage.
Summary: you finished your night shift and you feel someone was following you.
A/n: sorry for any mistakes that i made, English is not my first language. I also don't give permission to post my works on any other platforms such as Wattpad, Ao3 etc.
my masterlist
series masterlist
read pt. 2 >
You curse under your breath as you walk down on the street, clutching tightly on your coat. It's 12 a.m at midnight, you just finished your shift and on your way to your apartment. You reluctantly use this route because it was the closest to your place.
You shiver as you feel the cold air against your skin, even if you are covered in many layers of coat, you can still feel it. Winters can be fun, but also can be annoying at the same time.
You checked your phone as it was buzzing, a message was sent from your roommate. You have been living with him for over a year now, yet both of you barely know each other.
Clark-
i leave some dinner leftovers in the fridge.
You-
Mkay.
You looked around as you felt someone following you from behind. You could feel an unknown presence since you left your workplace, yet you choose to ignore it.
You turn your heels around to see who it is, but only to find nothing. Suddenly, a hand covered your mouth to muffle your scream, your back was pressed against the stranger's chest
“whaa- help!”
You fight the figure, wiggling and squirming in his hold. You know you shouldn't be using this route at all! what the hell have you got yourself into. You kicked the stranger's ankle, but it was a futile attempt.
“stop resisting.” he spoke in a harsh tone, gripping you tightly. The last thing he wanted to do to you was hurting you.
No, you're too precious to him.
Instead, he took out a pad that he dabbed with Chloroform earlier, and slammed it on your nose, letting you breath the toxin.
“noo..ummf..”
Seeing you fall unconscious in his arms, he smirked as he caress the beautiful face of yours while engulfing your small figure in his warm embrace.
finally. Months of watching you from afar, admiring, longing for your touch and warmth he finally got to hold you in his arms. He would not let this opportunity to have you go wasted.
The man looked around the alley, afraid if someone did watch his deed. Once he was convinced that everything was clear, he looked back at her with a wicked grin.
“sleep tight, my bride”
-
You take a sharp breath as you blink, only to find yourself spawled on a soft mattress. You tried to move but failed, too exhausted as you lay back. The bed moved a bit as you heard a groan next to you, a muscled arm makes its way to your waist, bringing you closer to a toned bare chest.
You stayed still, telling yourself that it's just another nightmare. But it's not until you feel a warm breath fanning on your neck before he placed a soft kiss on it before whispering right into your ear.
“what are you trying to do, my dear?”
His voice is deep, whispering at you soothingly as he caresses your waist. He lifted himself and got on top of you, finally got to see his face.
You study his Adonis looks, from his curly hair, trailing down to his handsome face. His icicle blue eyes are the most beautiful things you've ever seen, so beautiful yet so cold.
His jawline is sharp, like you could hurt yourself just from tracing it. He let you stare at him. What a romantic scene it was. Like the beauty of flower petals formed from two colors, becoming one solid entity.
You couldn't help but gawk, how can someone be so fine like this? The thought left your mind immediately as he shifted from his position a bit, leaning closer towards you. He brushes his succulent lips against your cheek, like a predator finally gets to devour its prey.
“wait- who the hell are you? why am i here?” you said, as you sat up on the bed and backed up from him.
“you don't need to know.” he replied, groaning slightly as she made a distance between them. He wanted to hold her in his arms again and never let her go.
He tried to reach out to her again, grabbing her ankle and pulling her towards him with a squeal. Even though she tried to resist him, she seemed to be liking his touch.
A smirk made its way to his face, adding the handsomeness in his features that got her melted.
little did he know...
“argh!” he let out a pained groan at the sudden kick on his crotch. She kicked him hard in the balls that got him shaking slightly from the after effects.
You immediately jumped out of the bed, abandoning the mysterious man that was about to hold you captive and your backpack. That doesn't matter now. Your life matters.
Running down from the apartment, you look around trying to ask for help before the man comes and captures you again. Luckily there's a cab pulling up on the road once they saw you.
“this is madness!”
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sorryiwasasleep · 5 months
Text
Screwed Up: A SuperBat One-Shot
“Look, Kent, the only way you’re getting out of writing this article is if you’re screwing one of them, so unless you tell me you and the Amazoni—“ Clark can’t help the honest-to-god snort of a laugh that pulls from him.
God, Diana will get a kick out of that too when he tells her.
Still laughing, Clark doesn’t even think about it.
He just answers, “I mean, I’d say B’s screwing me.”
And then he freezes as he realizes what he actually said.
And so does the rest of the newsroom.
And it’s like he can see the air swell in front of his eyes as his face flushes red and the group takes what feels like a collective inhale before nearly everyone in the newsroom starts talking at once.
In a move that probably makes him look even guiltier, Clark instinctually claps a hand over his mouth as if to take back the words.
Oh no.
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sanguineterrain · 7 months
Note
Hello! Can I please request holding hands while walking, with Clark?
WOOHOO A CLARK REQUEST!!!!! MY GUY!!!! also i kinda changed up the prompt but it's still very hand holding centered. v short. hope you like it!
*swings pocketwatch* oooooh you guys wanna send me clark kent requests soooo bad
clark kent x gn!reader. super fluff. hand holding. chocolatey kisses. 300 words.
request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary
****
"Clark? Clark!"
The marketplace is huge. Still, it shouldn't completely shroud your enormous boyfriend. Usually, you can spot his head towering over the crowd.
And he has super-hearing. So, really, he must be doing this on purpose.
"Clark!" you say, rounding the food stands for the second time.
Then, you spot him. At the pastry cart. Of course.
"There you are," you say, power-walking to him. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
You grab his hand and tightly lace your fingers with his. Clark blinks bewilderedly, then smiles when he sees your hands intertwine. He takes his change from the baker, then guides you to a table and chairs. There, Clark presents all of his finds.
"Hey. Sorry I disappeared. I was getting us eclairs." He holds up a white paper box. "And I also found that handmade soap you like. And the rosemary sprigs! They were a steal."
You lean against his shoulder, immediately relaxing.
"Mm. You're forgiven, I suppose. But you have to hold my hand for the rest of the day. Can't have you wandering off and wreaking havoc."
"I think you wreak enough havoc for both of us, no?" Clark asks, eyes twinkling.
"I've been cutting back," you say mildly, and Clark holds an eclair to your lips.
You take it in your free hand. The chocolate smears across your lips and you start to let go of Clark's hand to get a napkin, but he holds fast.
"Wait," he says, grinning. "What about your rule?"
"Oh, you're right." You close your eyes and jut out your chin. "Okay, Smallville. I guess you're on napkin du-mmph!"
Clark kisses you, one hand holding yours, the other on your waist. When you break, chocolate is smeared on his mouth too. You start to giggle. He smiles, eyes full of love.
"We make quite the pair, Kent."
And you peck another chocolatey kiss onto his cheek.
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mrsavery · 2 years
Text
The bullet
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Clark Kent/Superman x Reader
REQUEST
Summary: The reader gets injured with a kryptonite bullet, and Clark has no other choice but to take it out himself before she dies.
Warnings: blood, injury, selfless Clark, happy ending.
Words: 2,1k
A/N: DUAL POV
YOU
The day had started great. You had woken up with Clark sleeping next to you, his dark hair sprawled all over the pillow. He needed a trim, and he knew it, but Clark also was too lazy to go to the hairstylist. 
He had arrived in the middle of the night, silently climbed into bed and fallen asleep. You pressed a small kiss on his cheek and left the bedroom. 
It felt great to finally be able to enjoy a hot shower. Two weeks ago an old pipe in the basement had ruptured, leaving forty flats without hot water. The emergency service was not able to fix the problem sooner because apparently, many apartment complexes had faced the same problem and all needed fixing.
Your favorite strawberry cake was on the counter, wrapped in a beautiful carbon box and tied with a yellow bow. Clark liked to spoil you with sweets from all over the world. Some mornings you would wake up with ice cream melting on the counter since he would be too eager to get to you that he would forget about it. Some morning you would see a box of Belgium chocolate or a bottle of the vine from Italy on the counter. 
No matter what he got, you were happier to see him back home in one piece, alive and breathing.
You were in the middle of eating the second piece of your cake when you got a page from work. There had been an accident and there was a shortage of personnel, and your boss had no other choice but to ask you to come in a few hours earlier.
With another kiss on his cheek, you left your shared apartment ten minutes later.
And now, three hours later, you were groaning in pain, as a bullet hit your side, making you collapse on the dirty ground.
“Fuck!” The pain was strong. For a moment your vision got dark, but soon it came back, and the pain got almost unbearable. Blood was running down your side and straining your uniform, and it took a lot for you to sit up. 
The bullet had come out of nowhere. You had not heard nor the sound of the shot, nor seen any person. Buildings had collapsed around you, making piles of concrete and metals. In the distance, the sirens of rescue service could be heard, alongside the screams of scared people of Metropolis.  
With a hand on your side, you opened your EMS bag and took out clean bandages and medical tape to close the wound before help came. Your ratio had been lost a long time ago. The phones of your collages and yours had been left back in the hospital, and there was no other way how to communicate with them.
Usually, the emergency team stayed together and did not split, including yours. Unfortunately, another building collapsed, splitting all four of you up. You all were imprisoned in your own squares with exits that led farther away from each other.
On your way out of destruction, you had seen Clark flying above and fighting villains from another dimension. He had been too busy to notice you but seeing him being thrown against the building, made your heart beat faster and worry settle in. 
Others of the justice league tried helping him, but some of them got thrown against the buildings too. This was officially the most damaging alien invasion this city has seen. Tomorrow’s news headlines would be such as ‘biggest destruction of Metropolis in its history’, ‘collapsed Metropolis’ or ‘how much money is needed to rebuild Metropolis. Not to forget ‘Superman gets thrown against the Williams building’.
“[Y/N]!” You felt Clark before his voice met your ears. You had forgotten that he was somewhere near you. “Fuck! Is this your blood?”
“I got shot.” Speaking was hard. Every word caused more pain than the previous one. When you lifted your uniform, the flow of blood ran down your side. Clark took out the bandages from your arms and pressed them onto the wound. He hissed once his fingers touched it. Then you remembered the collapsing building. “I saw the building collapsing! Are you alright?”
“I’ll live.” He gritted through his teeth. Something was wrong with Clark. He never acted like this, only when he was hurt. With your eyes, you looked over his body but found nothing.
“Are you hurt?” You lifted your arm to touch his cheek, but your limbs felt weak. When you tried again, your vision started to blur, black spots appeared in front of you. These were signs of blood loss, a big blood loss. 
You tried fighting your inner voice. It had been what - one, two minutes since you had been shot? The bullet must still be inside, as the blood only came from the front. In most cases, the bullet keeps closed the artery and prevents a person from bleeding out. 
Then why were you feeling like you would lose consciousness at any moment?
The black spots got bigger, taking most of your vision. The pain had disappeared at one moment, and slowly you started losing the feeling of your limbs. You felt him shaking your body, lifting you in the air.
You did not want to die like this. You did not want him to see you dying, since it would haunt him for the rest of his life. He was the love of your life, the man you wanted to spend your life it, but the destiny had other plan.
Before the darkness took over, you managed to whisper the words, knowing that it would be the last thing he heard from you. 
“I love you…” 
CLARK
She was dying. 
She had lost too much blood.
Her breathing had become shallower.
Her heart had started beating slower.
She was dying in my arms.
The love of my life was dying in my arms.
And there was no one to save her.
Only me. 
“What the hell are you going, Clark?” Bruce’s voice echoed through the empty operation room. I did not spare him a glance, as I continued to prepare everything for the surgery. All instruments had been found and put on the near table, y/n had been covered with a surgical drape, and I had to start any moment.
“Clark.” He put a hand on my shoulder, but I showed it off. No matter what Bruce said, my opinion he could not change. 
“Either way you stay and help or leave.” I did not need to say twice. He removed his cape and mask, put on the gloves and came to stand on the other side of the table. 
We were the only members of the Justice League on the tower. The rest of the crew were on the earth, fighting aliens that had invaded our home. All hands were needed, and that explained why every single member and inhabitant of this place had been gone. 
I did not know much about removing bullets, especially those made of kryptonite, but I had to try. I could not leave the love of my life to die in my arms without me trying anything.
“Have you ever taken out a bullet?” Bruce asked after we had started. 
I shook my head. “And you?”
He shook his head.
The bullet was made of kryptonite. I figured it out the moment, I pressed my hands over her torn skin. My head was hurting, and my whole body was hurting, but I had to save her. 
I did not care if I died saving her. She would survive and have the life we dreamed about. She would spend it alone, without me by her side. At least, her heart would be beating. She would recover from the loss. 
Unlike me. 
If I lost her, there would be no longer me. I would die with her and never recover. She was my whole universe, and there was no life without her. 
Bruce must have sensed my pain and seen it written all over my face. “Is it what I think it is?”
“It depends,” I said through the pain that got stronger the closer I got to the bullet. “On what you are thinking.”
Before he could say anything, I took out the bullet. It was big, green, perfectly shaped and made from the kryptonite. The bullet shined in the dim light, as I let it fall into the iron bowl.
It was clearly meant for me. But it had hit y/n.
Maybe they knew about her being the woman I wanted to marry and who was my biggest weakness, my whole universe.
With every minute that passed, I felt weaker, I could feel how my muscles started to give up, how my body slowly shut down. Bruce tried taking over, but I did not allow it. Bruce had taken the kryptonite bullet away and carried it as far as he could from me. Little did he know that the damage had already been done.
With my heat vision, I stopped bleeding. While Bruce tried calling others, I continued to close the wound. Sweat was rolling down my face, my body was aching, and no matter what happened - I did not give up.
Ten minutes later I closed the wound and let out the breath I was holding. I sensed Bruce running towards the room with Dr. Choi, but I was too weak to stand up. Before they could open the door, I had already collapsed on the floor and lost consciousness.
Her sleeping face was everything I saw.
YOU
Monitors were beeping around you. Your head was hurting, but the side hurt more. Everything that happened before you lost consciousness, came back like a boomerang. Clark! The building had collapsed. He had found you bleeding. His face showed that he was hurting. You were dying!
You opened your eyes and quickly sat up, causing pain in your whole body. “Easy, [Y/N].” You recognized the voice of Bruce. “Let me help you.”
“Where is Clark?” You asked as he put pillows behind your back, easing your sitting. You had to know if he was alright.
Bruce moved his head to your left, and you gasped when you saw Clark laying in a bed next to you. He was stripped down to his boxers, and lights that reflected the sun were placed around the bed. His skin was absorbing all the light. As a result of that, his skin shined.
“Oh my god, Clark! What happened to him?” You tried getting out of bed, but Bruce’s strong hands on your shoulders did not allow it. He pushed you back in the bed, making your back hit the pillows.
“Do not try getting out unless you want me to chain you to this bed.”
“You would never.”
“I would. Clark will never forgive me if something happened to you.” 
“What happened to him?” The man you loved slept a few feet away from you, at an arm's stretch length, but you could not get to him. You wanted to touch his body, whisper that you were near and wait until he opened his eyes. Clark was near you, yet so far away.
Bruce handed you a glass of water and made you take a few sips. “He removed your bullet. It was made of kryptonite.” 
Kryptonite could kill Clark, yet he risked his life to save yours. “Is he going to be alright?” 
“Both of you will be. I will go and get Dr. Choi. Do not try getting out of bed.” 
“I will make sure she stays in hers.” You moved your head as fast, as the first syllables had left this mouth. His blue eyes found yours, and you tried your best to keep the tears from falling. He was awake.
“This also applies to you, Clark.”
He nodded, and then Bruce left the room, leaving the two of you alone.
His eyes never left yours. “How are you?”
“How are you? You could have died!” You almost shouted.
“So could you.” 
“But I did not.”
“Neither did I.” 
The small banter made both of you smile. Clark and you were two stubborn souls who always cared more about the other one rather than yourselves.
But the truth was still truth. “You are an idiot. Why did you take that bullet out yourself?”
Clark rolled his eyes and sat up. “There was no other who could do it. I did not want to lose you.”
“Dr. Choi would have saved me.” 
“Not fast enough. He was not here when we arrived.” Clark stood up from his bed and walked towards you. “Move over.”
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” You reminded him, as you moved in the bed, making a room for the big man you called yours. Your body felt small, compared to his. 
Clark wrapped his strong arms around your body carefully, trying not to cause more pain, tore your stitches or pull off the catheter in your arm. “I am not. I just changed it.”
“I love you.” He pressed a kiss on your head and snuggled closer to your body. Feeling his heart beating under your palms calmed you, and you closed your eyes knowing that he was alive and safe.
“I love you too. But, please, do not do it again."
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angelltheninth · 9 months
Text
A Needed Confidence Boost
Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, co-worker relationship, praise kink, insecurity, fingering, size kink, desk sex, shy!Reader
Ao3
Word count: 1.6k
A/N: Clark commission for @prettysourabbie,
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“Miss, I hate to tell you this, but if you can’t deliver on a good story, or even run errands right I don’t really have much need for you as an intern or a future reporter.” Perry White leaned back in his chair, looking at you dismissively, making you feel small under his scrutiny and cold glare. It might be just you but you felt like the temperature in his office dropped, or maybe it was just your fear of losing your new job that had you shaking.
The hand on your back was a sudden source of warmth, “Come on mister White, its not her fault the bad guys were out cold. There’s not a single reporter in the city who got the scoop on them. And probably won’t for a little while since they’re being jailed right about now. She did nothing wrong.” Clark stepped up beside you, his large frame would be the perfect shield from this embarrassment.
“I-I’m s-sorry. I’ll do better. P-Promise.” You honestly felt like crying. This was supposed to be your big break, instead you ran all over this city, dragged Clark with you, lost him half-way there, and still had nothing to show for it.
Mister White looked from you to Clark and with a heavy sigh waived you away, “One more chance. Stick with Clark, he’s been though this and now he’s one of our best reporters.”
“Y-Yes sir. Thank you!” You weren’t out of the woods yet but just stepping out of that office and still having your job felt like an achievement, “Sorry for getting you into trouble Clark.”
But Clark’s eyes held no trace of anger or annoyance towards you. Its strange to feel such warmth form eyes as blue as his, yet every time he looked at you there was a heat spreading through your body. “No problem. He was right, I’ve been though this. Meet me here tomorrow and I promise we’ll find something juicy.” You looked up at him, eyes hopeful but a tiny bit skeptical, how was he gonna just... find a story? “Trust me, I can feel it.” His large hand squeezed around yours. Were his hands always so big? Clark noticed what he did too, quickly pulling away and loosening the collar of his vest, “Tomorrow morning then?”
The slightly higher tone of his voice made your heart skip a beat. Right as it did Clark’s eyebrows rose up, almost as if he heard the elevated heartbeat. “Right. Tomorrow. See you, uh C-Clark.” You turned before he saw how hot your face got because in your head this sounded a lot like a date. A work date? Is there such a thing? Did Clark see you as more then a co-worker? Those questions kept you up almost the entire night, your alarm startling you from your bed and sending you running to the office room.
Or what was kind of an office room to Clark and his team.
It wasn’t as run down or cluttered as it was when they started but it wasn’t the best room either. They’d all been offered better but they always refused, citing that this room meant a lot to them. And so Clark, Lois and Jimmy claimed this office for as long as they liked.
You slammed the door open a bit too loudly in your haste to make it there. It must have been very loud cause it made Clark jump and cringe as he covered his ears, “Oh! Sorry. That was too loud.” You eased the door closed behind you and set your bag on what was actually Clark’s chair but he always let you use it when you were at his team’s office.
“No harm done, I have sensitive hearing so loud noises can be an issue, not your fault, I learned to live with it.” Clark chuckled, handing you an envelope, “Got something you might want to check out. I think you’d do good with this one.”
His smile exuded confidence so you were at least curious. “Clark... is this...” You looked up at him, then back at the apparent scoop he offered you, “C-Clark. This is Lena Luthor. Why would you give me this? I-I-I can’t go talk to her! I can’t even talk to criminals that Superman fights!”
Lena Luthor was the sister of Lex Luthor, current head of Lexcorp, and very much in the public eye right now due to a new tech she’s been looking into. No one’s managed to get an interview with her yet. Not even Clark and Lois, or Cat Grant.
“Well... she will be in Metropolis today and tomorrow. If you get a single word from her about her upcoming project I guarantee Perry will give you the job. I know she doesn’t talk to many reporters but look at you, she can’t say no to your cute face.” This time he didn’t just stop there, rounded the desk and walked up behind you, pointing with his finger, “She’ll be at this lecture in about an hour. You’ve got this. I know you think you don’t have what it takes but I read your reports and they’re amazing.” Once again your heartbeat speed up at his warm, kind words, but also from the close proximity of his body to yours. “You just need help with being more vocal.”
“A-And how do I do that?” You didn’t dare to look up at him, he was already slouching, his breath feeling both hot a cold against your ear. When his mouth opened to speak it startled you, to hear him so close. You back up against his frame, his hands catching you and, with best gentle efforts, pushing you back forward. How is he so strong to push you entirely against the desk, your breasts against the papers, your ass accidentally brushing against his crotch. “Fuck me.” You whisper, very much to yourself and not meant for his keen ears. “You’re really strong.”
“Huh? What was that?” Clark leaned over you rather then backed away, “Did you just say you wanted me to fuck you?” It was so unusual for Clark to tease you, it took your brain a bit to reboot and catch up. “I wasn’t referring to that kind of vocal.”
“I d-didn’t mean it like that. Come on Clark, let me up.” You couldn’t budge him off, it was all too easy for him to hold you down with one hand pressed against your lower back.
You risked a glance at him, his cheeks were as pink as one of his favorite shirts, his frame bulging with every breath. He was flustered too! So how could he sound so calm? “I think you should try it again. Tell me what you want.” He wasn’t forceful by any means, he kept his eyes soft, his voice low, his hand massaging your thigh under your skirt. When did you open your legs? When did it get so hot in here? “Speak up. Clearly, or I stop.”
That was the most threatening thing he said thus far. This was beyond embarrassing, “What if someone comes?”
“Isn’t that the point?” Clark’s large hand cupped between your legs, two fingers bending in a scratching motion over your wet panties.
“N-Not f-funny Clark.” You moaned, the noise echoing around the small office.
“Funny to me. Plus, I have sensitive hearing remember? I’ll hear them. Now, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Be clear, be loud, be confident. I know you can do it.” His words stoked the fire inside you, your head swimming with every dirty thought you’ve had about him and never had the confidence to say. His hands on around your ankles, pushing your legs up, your eyes locked on his huge, thick cock as it enters you and splits you open with its girth, his muscles flexing, sweaty and glistening as the echoes of naked flesh slapping fill your bedroom. “All of that? I see. I can’t do it to you here but I hope this will satisfy you enough.”
You felt two thick fingers moving your panties to the side and plunging into your heat, your pussy clamping around his thick digits, “I didn’t mean to say all that.”
“But you did. So beautifully too.” His fingers curled upwards, pushing against your g-spot, “My fingers might snap in half if you keep clenching so hard. Are you close? Tell me.”
“So close. Feels... full. And with just your fingers. Your cock would split me in two.” It would hurt to take him, you’re sure your pussy would have a hard time with it. “I w-want... your cock Clark.” You confessed in between gasps and whimpers and the wet, lewd, dirty sounds of Clark’s palm slapping against your thighs.
“I can tell. A girl like you need something thicker to make her happy.” You waited for the sound of a zipper, instead it was the sound of your pussy squelching and stretching around a third finger, “I can hear someone. You better finish if you want an orgasm. I know you can finish on command. Squeeze my fingers, show me how you’re gonna milk me dry.”
“Clark!” You called his name once before slapping your hand over your mouth, remembering that he said there was someone on their way here. You let him drag your orgasm out one stroke at a time, his fingers sticky with your juices, dripping down all the way to his wrist.
He pulled them out carefully, setting your panties and your skirt back into place and wiping his fingers on his pants, right over the outline of his cock. “How are your pants not bursting?” Even covered you could tell he was fucking huge.
Clark laughed a little nervously, “I admit I have a hard time shopping for underwear and condoms.” Oh, so he was just humble bragging now, lovely. “You did very well once you got into it. If you can do this with me you can definitely talk to miss Luthor.” Fuck, that’s right. You had to go interview Lena Luthor!
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your-averagewriter · 1 year
Text
"You saved me."
Summary: (y/n) and Clark have an argument but briefly after, something terrifying happens nearly snatching away (y/n)'s life but Clark is there to save her.
Word count: 1.7K
Warnings: kissing, danger, death, crying, arguments
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“Batman saves the day again,” I whisper to myself as I look at the front page title for my article. With a smile, I stand up, gripping the tablet to show my boss. I knock on the door and walk in once I’m summoned. 
“I’m done.” I pass the tablet over to Mr White. “What do you think?” I ask and watch his eyes scan over the title and the article.
He sighs before lifting his glasses onto his head and my face drops slightly. “You can publish it.” He says reluctantly, he doesn’t tend to like pieces that are so opinionated but he often makes exceptions for me. I take the tablet off of him and head out of the door. “Maybe tone it down next time though.” I nod even though we both know that I won’t.
I get the article published in the following day’s Daily Planet paper. 
The next day I see my article on the front page accompanied by a heroic picture of Batman, I smile, content with my work and head home. 
I push open the door to my shared apartment and kick off my shoes and hang up my coat. I check the time and decide to start cooking some dinner as Clark should be home in an hour or two. 
“Honey, I’m home.” I hear Clark yell from the door in a tired tone.
“I’m in the kitchen!” I yell back and hear his heavy footsteps echo through the house. I keep stirring the food and I feel his large hands on my shoulder.
“Hey,” I say quietly as he places a soft kiss on my cheek. 
“Hi, how was your day?” He asks wrapping his arms around me.
“Good, my article got on the front page,” I say happily.
“Wow, what was the article about?” He says resting his chest against my back.
“The title was: Batman saves the day again!” I say turning around dramatically with a smile but I watch his smile falter.
“Batman saves the day again…” He mutters quietly and I nod. “(y/n) you know how I feel about him.” He says.
“Are you not proud of me? I got the front page.” I say slightly sad that he isn’t as happy as me.
“That’s great but do you have to write about him all the time?” He asks tiredly.
“I don’t write about him all the time!” I say getting annoyed. “And you can’t control what I write!” I say, brows furrowed.
“I don’t want to dictate your writing but I don’t like when you write about him and you know that!” He says withdrawing from me.
“I don’t understand why you care so much whether I write about him! You should be happy for me!” I say louder but not shouting. 
This turns into a full-blown argument, shouting and all and it lasts for seemingly hours although I know it can’t have been more than half an hour before I stormed off. Dinner is abandoned and Clark sleeps on the couch.
Hot tears burn my eyes as I keep flipping over my pillow and turning around, Clark not being next to me is making it hard to sleep. Eventually, morning arrives and I leave early before Clark even wakes up. Even though it’s early I head to work, only a few people get to the building this early, mainly just cleaners. Clark works in the same building but on a different floor, the one just above my floor, the one just below the roof.
I spend the day not doing much and trying to avoid my coworkers. Walking around the office, all that’s displayed is the current Daily Planet paper, the issue with my front page article. It usually fills me with pride to see my articles on the front page at the office but today it just fills me with anger. Every time I walk past one of the newspaper stands I’m reminded of our argument last night. 
I sit back down at my desk, my hands threading in my hair, frustrated. Squeezing my eyes shut I blink back small tears as I stare at the screen in front of me. 
As I look at the endless lines of text, I feel vibrations ripple through the building. They’re relatively small but definitely there so I stand up and look around at my other confused co-workers.
I push my chair out of the way and walk towards the windows where everyone’s standing. After a few seconds of shock, everyone starts screaming and running out of the building. I stand still staring at the destruction of our city and almost everybody else is leaving the building. Mr White grabs my arm and pulls me out the door with him and down the stairs.
“We’ve got to go!” He yells pulling me down the stairs and I go with him.
“Wait!” I yell and stop. “Clark’s up there!” I yell and pry my arm from his hand, darting up the stairs.
“(y/n)! Stop!” He yells but I keep running up the stairs.
I make it up to the next floor and people just keep pushing past me. “Clark!” I yell, worried. “Clark!” I turn to one of the people running out. “Have you seen Clark?” I ask rushed and my answer is a shake of the head.
I ask the people who rush out the door but no one’s seen him. Pushing through the last few people I run through the floor looking for him, calling his name.
“Clark? Clark?” I yell, running down the corridors, and poking my head into each of the offices.
Seeing he’s not on this floor I head up to the next one but it’s the roof. I feel the wind through my hair as I push open the door.
“Clark!” I yell out from the top of the building. Walking away from the door it slams behind me and locks. I grab onto the handle and pull and pull but it doesn’t budge so I turn away from it and take a deep breath.
“Clark!” I cup my hands around my mouth and shout out across the building with no response. “Clark? Are you up here?” I say looking around, the vibrations getting stronger and harsher. I try to walk further but I’m thrown to the ground as an especially strong vibration ripples underfoot.
I flip my hair out of my face, tucking some of it behind my ear to stop it from blowing in my face as I look around. The buildings in front of us have been absolutely obliterated and the debris is littering the streets. I crawl back towards the door and try the door again, it’s still locked but I try to pry it open, desperately. Worry builds up inside of me as the door doesn’t budge at all and the destruction is closing in.
I turn around to look at the tornado-like carnage nearing and back up against the wall. Wiping tears from my eyes I stare my death in the eyes terrified.
If I die today I’ll never get to see Clark ever again, I’ll never get to apologise and my last memory of him will be the argument. His last memory of me before I died will be our argument. The thoughts bring me to tears and I throw my head back against the door, the danger getting closer and closer.
Finally, just as I’m about to be swallowed up by the darkness I’m lifted into the air. Choking on my tears I feel a pair of arms around my waist and I hear a quiet voice in my ear.
“You’re okay. You’re okay.” I hear the voice says as I cling on for dear life. 
“Clark?” I whisper quietly, looking up at him. “Oh my god,” I say with a sigh of relief.
He flies us away from the wreckage and my tears start to dry up as I’m away from the danger. Clark lands on the ground and he places me down in front of him seconds afterwards. 
I press myself against his torso, pulling him closer to me desperately. He does the same, wrapping his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest.
“You saved my life. Thank you.” I say quietly.
“You don’t need to thank me…” He says quietly.
“I’m so sorry,” I say feeling the tears in my eyes again.
“For what?” He asks softly knowing that I’m still shaken up.
“I’m sorry for writing that article. I know you don’t like him and I shouldn’t have-” He cuts me off.
“No, I’m sorry, you should be able to write what you like.” He says and I lift my head from his chest.
He places his finger under my chin and lifts my head closer to his. Leaning in, he presses his lips against mine, his thumb caressing my cheek, wiping away the remnants of my tears. I kiss him passionately, pouring all of my emotions into it. Tangling my hand into his gelled hair, I tease the curls out as he pulls me closer, his arm around my neck. I open my eyes and pull away slowly, placing my forehead against his.
“I love you,” I say softly looking into his blue eyes, only adoration and love painted on my face.
“I love you too. I’m so glad you’re okay.” He says sincerely and I trace the ‘S’ on his outfit.
“Thanks to you,” I say before smashing my lips against his again, this time more ferociously and he matches the emotion and passion. I stroke my hand against his clean-shaven face and I reach around playing with the tame curls. He bites at my lip as I open my mouth allowing him entrance. He rubs his hand up and down my back, drawing different shapes, it’s a soothing feeling. Looking to the side I notice Mr White and some others from the office who have escaped the terror in the city so I pull away, embarrassed at the very public display of affection.
He chases my lips again but I bow my head away and chuckle.
“Clark,” I say quietly indicating to the on-lookers with my eyes. He follows my eyes and then turns back to me.
“I don’t care.” He says before recapturing my lips. The warmth blossoms on my lips and the feeling of his lips on mine is the best feeling I can think of.
-
AN: I hope you enjoyed!
I just rewatched Superman and I'm just in love with Clark all over again.
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nouearth · 10 months
Text
london fog.
pairing ; clark kent x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 1094. genre; fluff. rating ; pg. warnings ; awkward interactions incoming, male reader is embarrassing, clark is nervous and likes hot drinks on a hot summer day, didn't proof-read, sorry! my toes actually curled at how cringy reader was being, i'm so sorry.
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“london fog for clark?” your voice is at ease and your motions even more so as you topped the hot latte with milk foam, capping the drink with a lid after. a smile that rivaled the sunny day has been brewing on your face since you took the familiar customer’s order and thankfully, things moved at a leisurely pace today, meaning you had a few more seconds than usual to spare with him.
“how come you still called my name even though there’s no one here?” his name is clark, often comes in before work or during lunch. but these days, he’s been doing both, which you couldn’t complain about. the man’s presence makes the opening shift worth it, even if you could only speak to him for a few seconds. 
as usual, he’s in his work attire, sans the blazer that you often see him wearing in the morning, and he still looks at you with that friendly smile of his, black hair whipped back with tiny strands falling downwards as his hair wax has obviously loosened over the day. clark’s presence never failed to prepare you for the long day ahead or comfort you after an intense hour of appeasing patronizing customers. adding in his ability to look effortlessly handsome every day, his generosity in tipping, and his amiable personality, it didn’t take too long for clark to become your favorite customer.
“i just like saying your name! clark! i’ve never met anyone named clark before.” you pass the cup to him as you maintained eye contact. a gentle brush of his fingertips almost breaks your gaze, but you catch yourself, only breaking to fetch and occupy his hand with a bagged sandwich. “on the house.”
“oh- hey, i can’t! let me pay for this.” you confirm to yourself that pretty privilege was indeed real and you can’t believe you fell victim to it, but… it isn’t so bad when the culprit is a genuinely kind person. 
after taking a sip, clark clumsily sets everything down on the counter to fumble for his wallet. the sound of pennies and quarters falling onto the marbled floor echoes and you could evidently see clark’s cheeks grow redder the more coins fall, but you stop him before he could empty his wallet out even further. he stares back at you wide-eyed and you couldn’t help but laugh at how cute he looks when he’s embarrassed, especially since he’s bigger and taller, a physique that you often associated with a bodyguard or some sort of superhero, and you don’t think those types of people tend to be flustered much… do they?
“it’s fine. we’re working on a new recipe, so consider yourself… a test rat!” you gather the fallen coins that managed to land on the counter into your palm before handing it back to him. a slight waste of time, only because clark slots them, along with a couple dollar bills, into the tip jar immediately after.
“well… uh… i’m happy to test anything if it means seeing more of you.” was he flirting? or was that a joke? maybe it was nothing?! your inexperience condemns you to overanalyzing his words, his tone, his body language, everything, and you’d figure you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight with these questions running rampant.
“oh- definitely! you won’t be disappointed, clark.” you’re flustered and that reflects in your voice. a voice that was once at ease not even a minute ago quickly becomes staggered. you stammer like a school boy confessing to his crush, and you could feel your eyes shutting for a moment in embarrassment when you realize how nervous you sound. “they work me like a dog so- i’m always here, hah!” 
you snort in midst of the awkward laugh that you and clark both share and you want to hide in a hole somewhere. maybe not too deep since you still want to be alive and breathing to see clark again, but somewhere far, far, far away from this painful interaction. 
a painful interaction that makes you all the more endearing, clarks thinks to himself.
“i-uh. yeah, well hopefully not too hard to the point where you faint at work or something.” clark adds onto the topic and god, you wish you could change subjects right now.
“haha, yeah! maybe i’ll signal for superman or something!” you don’t know why but you find yourself naturally stepping back as if there was a spotlight awaiting your tony-winning performance. 
“help, help! superman! i’m gonna faint! catch me!” 
and the recipient of the most embarrassing interaction goes to…
you’re red in the face, hot in the neck, clammy in the hands, and even clark’s wholesome laughter couldn’t save you from embarrassment. you force yourself to think he’s laughing with you (and he is), not at you, and that calms you down, just a tiny bit.
“great drinks and service, and now a show. i gotta come visit more often.” clark occupies his hands once again with his drink and sandwich, nodding you off. “thank you- again. i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“yea-“ the sound of a bell cuts you off and you look over to the source—another customer. “y-yes! tomorrow.” 
clark’s voice is faint when he bids you goodbye, but you were already off to the other side of the cafe, tending to the customer, and eventually too focused to notice his exit when a line of customers quickly forms.
you work quickly within the next few minutes, knocking the orders down in an impressive personal record, and a huge weight lifts off your shoulders when you call out the last order of the line, until that bell chimes in again.
three more hours to go. you sighed, tired on your feet as you walk your way towards the ordering counter, greeting the customer.
“hello! welcome to-“
“i’m sorry, i lied. not tomorrow.”
you slow your approach, taking a moment to register what the familiar man was saying. “wha- clark? what do you mean?” usually you’d smile when you see him—clark—but he seems conflicted, disheveled, a stark contrast to his usual friendly demeanor, and so you could only muster a soft half-smile out of worry.
“can i see you tonight?”
clark stands tall, but not confident as he waits for your answer, nervously shifting his weight onto on his toes and heel, hands dug into his pockets.
“i-uh. yeah. i get off at five-“
“five…” clark ponders for a quick moment before nodding, gracing you with that comforting smile of his. you're at ease again, if you ignore the incredibly annoying swell in your chest.
“i’ll see you at five.”
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© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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mylifeisfruk4ever · 10 months
Text
@bruciemilf
" Would you like to be my stepfather?"
"What?"
“Would you rather be my not dad? B isn't my dad either, not really. But if you two are going to be together, I could say I have three dads.”
"Robin, that's not how it works…" Batman gasped, and Clark was sure the other was about to have a syncope.
"How does it work?"
"We should get married, and…"
"Perfect!" the boy interrupted him.
"Mr. Superman, would you marry my non-daddy and make him an honest man?"
Batman was definitely dead, and Superman was torn between following his example or laugh.
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sorryiwasasleep · 5 months
Text
Superman is an Anti-Vaxxer?! Chapter 1
Bruce and Clark are discussing their relationships next steps and how to handle the publicity that comes with being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne, when Clark worries about his past affecting Bruce's reputation.
Bruce thinks that's laughable, because how could farmboy turned reporter Clark Kent ruin debauched playboy Bruce Wayne's reputation.
Then Clark tells him something that Bruce never in a million years saw coming.
Superman is an anti-vaxxer.
Or, well, he's not in belief and ethics, but on paper?
Clark Kent is a documented anti-vaxxer with exemptions for himself from one's required for work, and most recently, a documented exemption for his son Connor from the one's required for school. Cited as being for religious beliefs and never questioned too hard before, which is good since they actually need it for impenetrable skin.
But now he's dating the CEO of the company that essentially runs healthcare in Gotham.
The Batfamily are told and make fun of Clark.
Like, a lot.
But also, they help with a plan and things work out both for Bruce and Clark's relationship and reputations.
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sanguineterrain · 7 months
Note
Hi! Can I please request a fluffy Clark x reader where he finds out he going to be a dad and is a little scared? Thank you!
I thought about how Clark would be if he and his partner adopted and it's fascinating... like what if his kid had no powers and Clark was still the "odd" one out? What would he be afraid of? Anyway..... hope you like this one anon, thanks for requesting!
Clark Kent x gn!reader. Clark worries he won't be a good dad, discussions of adoption, comfort.
****
Clark stares at the letter. He hasn't moved for a solid minute. You know he's already finished reading; he's a fast reader.
Dear Kents, we are happy to inform you that the agency has accepted your application...
"Clark?" you ask carefully. Maybe you shouldn't have thrown this at him as soon as he'd gotten home. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he says, and you realize that he's crying.
Clark pulls off his glasses and wipes his eyes. "Yes, I'm sorry. I'm alright. I'm just, um..."
Gently, you take the letter and set it on the counter. Clark looks at you, bright blue eyes glassy.
"I can't believe they accepted us," he says, voice watery.
You tilt your head, sliding your arms around his neck. "Did you think they wouldn't? We're in good standing, stable... and we really want a kid."
"Well, I just... if only they knew who I was. They wouldn't give a baby to Superman."
"Oh, Clark." You kiss his cheek, wiping the salt tracks with your thumb. "You're sunshine, you're dynamite, you're-you're so good. And you'll be a wonderful father, you know."
"I'm still the alien," Clark says with a frown. "I can't teach them anything about this world. And what if-what if something happens? A tiny baby in my hands? These hands that destroy, that-that have drawn blood."
"These hands that build," you correct firmly, grabbing his hands to cup them between yours. "These hands that protect. That write incredible articles. That touch me with love. You're meant to be here, Clark. You're right where you should be. And that baby will love you and fight with you over curfews and ask for help on math homework and all those things."
"What if I mess up?" he whispers.
"We both will," you say. "More than once. But we're two well-adjusted, capable adults who are anxious to be parents. And our baby will be loved, no matter what."
Clark sniffs and hugs you back, resting his head on your shoulder. You pet his hair.
"I'm scared," he says. "I've faced alien dictators who wanted to subjugate earth. But this terrifies me."
"I'm scared too," you say. "But we've got each other. And billions of people raise kids every day. There's no reason why we can't do it."
Clark takes a deep breath. You let him stay in your embrace for as long as he needs.
Finally, he straightens, looking at you.
"Okay." He smiles, and it's stronger now. "Let's call the agency."
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idsfantasy · 7 months
Text
And Then the World Was Fire
It was almost funny to think that less than a year ago, Jor-El had been at his wife’s side, welcoming their newborn son into the world.
Now, he was racing to reprogram the escape pod he had managed to steal from Brainiac’s forces to be able to safely take his infant son as far away from his family and home planet as possible.
Or, no matter what happens, no matter what changes, all a dying father wants is for his son to live.
Full fic on ao3 or under cut.
It was almost funny to think that less than a year ago, Jor-El had been at his wife’s side, welcoming their newborn son into the world. In that moment, everything had been perfect. Seeing Kal-El’s tiny body curled in Lara’s arms for the first time had brought tears to his eyes, and his mind had raced with excitement at the thought of introducing this brand new life to his extended family, seeing him make friends, and watching him grow up into the wonderful man Jor-El knew he was destined to be. 
Now, he was racing to reprogram the escape pod he had managed to steal from Brainiac’s forces to be able to safely take his infant son as far away from his family and home planet as possible. Though ‘as far as possible’ may not be the correct phrasing, as Jor-El was relying on the pod being able to make it through the portal that had been opened between Krypton and the planet that was about to be invaded. 
Krypton’s oncoming explosion should destroy the ship keeping the portal open before the invasion could actually get underway, but while Jor-El was hopeful the pod would make it through in time, he also had to be careful that this pod didn’t end up reopening the link. Brainiac’s ships, even those that could grow from escape pods, were what opened the portals when they found worlds to conquer (they were meant to be used for backup in dangerous situations or to return home if stranded on an unknown world, not this, where the technology on board would just as quickly attack a Kryptonian as it used to defend them), so in order for Kal-El’s escape to remain secure, Jor-El didn’t have much time to set up a defense against the rogue AI’s influence.
Putting one hand on the pod to establish the link for the copying of his mind into its AI for as long as he remained nearby, Jor-El turned to see Lara quickly approaching, a bundle of blankets cradled in her arms. Jor-El breathed out a sigh of relief. As much as he had tried to push the worry from his mind, the creeping concern that Lara wouldn’t be able to arrive with Kal-El in time had been there. 
Ever since the strange explosive had been launched into Rao, changing the sun’s color from yellow to red, the remaining Kryptonians who didn’t have shielding against the low-energy rays had their energy drained. It had taken less than a day for Jor-El and Lara to lose the ability to fly, and it wasn’t long after that their maximum speed had plummeted. Those weren’t the only abilities they had lost, but those were the ones they had been missing the most with how precious their remaining time was.
Jor-El walked over to where Lara had come to a halt, clutching a crying Kal-El tightly. As she looked mournfully up at the explosion filled sky, Jor-El rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, even though they both knew that, in what could be seconds, it wouldn’t even matter. Wordlessly, Lara shifted her hold on their son and allowed Jor-El to take him into his arms. 
Forcing himself to carry Kal-El to the waiting escape pod was probably the hardest thing Jor-El had ever had to do. With how little time they had, he should have been moving as fast as possible, but it was all he could do to hold back the rising tide of despair and keep moving forward. He had to keep moving or else he would stop. Or else he would cling to his son and his wife until his dying breath, but he knew that he couldn’t do that. He had to hold back the selfish desire to spend his last moments holding his family close because even if the escape pods were too small to fit his whole family, his son had the opportunity to survive.
He signaled the escape pod to open through the mental link, and watched the metal casing pull back. Carefully placing Kal-El in the glowing blue chamber, Jor-El smiled sadly down at the tiny bundle who would grow up in a completely foreign world among people who Jor-El and Lara could only hope would accept him despite his origins.
The crest of the House of El stood for hope. It was painfully fitting that what was left of it would be relying so heavily on that hope to survive.
Taking a deep breath, Jor-El closed the pod and sent it skyward.
Finally allowing the tidal wave of emotions to wash over him, he collapsed to his knees, his hands pressed against the ground as he blinked back tears. He felt, rather than saw, Lara drop down next to him and wrap her arms around him comfortingly for a moment, before he grabbed her hand tightly in return, a gesture of reassurance that they both knew was empty. 
Pulling on the last of his willpower, he looked toward the sky as they held each other close, the ground shaking beneath them from the explosion of the planet’s core. He watched as the small spacecraft flew towards the portal, just fast enough that it would reach the other side before the explosion. He didn’t have the strength to speak as tears poured freely from his eyes, but as he felt the fiery destruction about to consume him, he had the strength for one last thought.
Kal-El. My son. Live.
-
As an AI, Jor-El unfortunately could not follow his son to wherever the man and woman who found him had taken him. In fact, he couldn’t even manifest outside the ship without Kal-El’s presence to respond to. He was barely aware of time passing as he waited in the ship, making sure that Brainiac’s systems didn’t activate, hoping that one day, Kal-El would be able to return.
Then, one day, he did.
As soon as Kal-El set foot on the surface of the ship, its systems lit up and Jor-El immediately snapped to attention. He didn’t exactly have a heartbeat anymore, but he knew that if he did, it would be racing from anticipation. He would finally be able to see his son. He would be able to explain to him who he was, where he came from, why he had been sent to this planet. That he had family. Even if Jor-El wasn’t the original, he was an exact copy of him in every way that mattered. Neither of them would have to be alone anymore.
The ship’s obelisks rose, and Jor-El could sense Kal-El as he walked across the ship’s surface and made contact with one of them. He let out an unnecessary sigh of relief. While he could still use the transportation functions of the obelisks, he couldn’t use their full capabilities without Kal-El activating them in the first, and it would likely be best to have their first meeting take place somewhere more familiar to his son who, as much as it pained Jor-El to admit, would find Kryptonian technology and his own father unfamiliar.
So, Jor-El turned his focus to the powered obelisk, steeled himself, and projected himself through it to see-
Even if he hadn’t known who was in front of him, a part of Jor-El whispered that he would have recognized him anyway. Still so small, yet so much bigger than when Jor-El had placed him in the escape pod, Kal-El’s vibrant blue eyes were wide with shock. Every paternal instinct begged Jor-El to reach out and pull the young boy, his boy, into his arms, but even if had been able to make physical contact, he knew that would only scare him more. The last time they had seen each other was when Kal-El was an infant. Kryptonians had excellent memories, but even for their people it was rare to remember their infancy, and the look on Kal-El’s face didn’t even hint at recognition.
Jor-El only realized how long he’d been silently staring when Kal-El spoke. “H-hello?”
The word was unfamiliar, but the ship’s automatic translators quickly processed it into the questioning greeting it was.
Steeling himself, he responded, “Son, I am your father. My name is Jor-El.”
There wasn’t a hint of recognition on Kal-El’s face as Jor-El continued to speak.
Jor-El knew he had a one track mind at times. He knew he could get overly passionate. Years later, after countless times running over his failure to communicate with his son, to realize there were people put at risk as he tried to open the ship to let Kal-El inside, to notice that Kal-El’s lack of understanding was due to the translation program only working one way rather than just shock at something unfamiliar, he knew that he would never lose that feeling of loss and regret that consumed him when he realized that he had scared his son away for what could be forever. 
-
Using the positioning system of the ship, Jor-El could tell that the planet made fifteen revolutions before Kal-El returned again. Using the time measurement capabilities of the ship, Jor-El knew that he had missed his son’s entire adolescence. When Kal-El touched down on the ship’s surface, Jor-El didn’t bother trying to speak first, opting to summon him directly into the ship instead.
He wasn’t going to lose his chance again.
There was a bolt of light as Kal-El was brought into the ship, and Jor-El quickly activated the ship’s lights and holotech. Without it, the ship’s interior would be dark unless Brainiac’s drones became active (which Jor-El was hoping to avoid), and not only would the darkness likely unnerve Kal-El, but it would leave Jor-El unable to truly see as well. And oh how desperately he wanted to see for this.
The holograms glowed to life and Jor-El’s metaphorical heart skipped a beat as he looked towards the figure now visible in the white-space. Just as before, even though the man standing on the platform was facing away from him, Jor-El felt that instinctive recognition. Even if he hadn’t been keeping track of time, it was clear that his son’s childhood was behind him, and though it hurt to know he had missed so much of Kal-El’s life, Jor-El still felt a wave of parental pride and affection as he looked down at his son. Standing tall as he examined his surroundings, Kal-El looked just as strong and healthy as Jor-El and Lara had dreamed he could be on this alien planet, and relief flowed alongside the grief and joy Jor-El felt.
As did trepidation.
Even if Jor-El would be able to understand Kal-El, without more exposure to his language, Jor-El  wouldn’t be able to actually speak it back to him. While he hoped he and Kal-El would be able to learn from each other, Jor-El had scared him away once. He would need to be careful not to scare him again.
“Okay, this is…new.”
The sound of Kal-El’s voice as he stepped away from the edge of the platform snapped Jor-El out of his thoughts. Right. No more stalling. 
Jor-El flew down, and put his hand on Kal-El’s shoulder, the power of the holodeck allowing manifestations that were more than just illusion. “Son.”
Kal-El’s head turned at the touch, and a moment later he was staring up at Jor-El, an almost-perfect, older mirror of the little boy from fifteen years ago. 
“Are you…” Kal-El started, before his tone suddenly shifted to quiet awe and his eyes widened further. “You’re responding to me.”
“Yes, Kal-El,” Jor-El’s voice wavered with relief as he fought to maintain his composure. “Yes.”
Unfortunately, Kal-El still could not understand him, and Jor-El’s grasp on the language without the translator’s assistance was nowhere near what it would need to be to actually speak yet. No matter how Jor-El tried to explain things or how many times Kal-El reiterated that he didn’t understand, nothing changed other than both of them getting increasingly frustrated.
Finally, Kal-El turned away. “Oh, what am I doing here? I don’t even know who you are.”
“Son.” Jor-El felt the despair that had arisen after he’d realized he may have lost his son forever rise up and claw at him with talons of ice. He couldn’t lose him now. There had to be some way…
Of course! Turning to the side, Jor-El changed the holodeck to show the vast expanses of space.
“What’s happening?” Kal-El asked quietly, though when Jor-El turned to look at him, he could see that Kal-El was still staring, shocked into the sea of stars.
Knowing words would be useless, Jor-El phased his own hologram to be directly in front of Kal-El, and with a determined expression placed his hands on the sides of Kal-El’s head.
The typical use of a ship’s holodeck included sharing mission reports through the use of memory. While it wasn’t usually quite so direct as a mind to mind share as he would be doing now, being able to see what took place could always reveal details that mere words could not. As painful as it would be, if it would help Kal-El finally understand who Jor-El was, what he meant to him, and why he was here, Jor-El would gladly relive Krypton’s destruction a thousand times over.
-
It wasn’t nearly so long before Kal-El returned again. Jor-El had only waited about one-third of an Earth cycle before he was back. Jor-El’s heart swelled with pride seeing his son, fully-grown and standing tall wearing the traditional colors, crest, and garb of the heir of the House of El.
“I know why you sent me here.” Kal-El looked up at him, a cold determination on his face as he flew up to be face to face with Jor-El. “You tried to conquer this planet. My home. I won’t let that happen. Ever.”
Whatever happiness he’d felt at Kal-El’s visit quickly turned to horror and confusion as he processed Kal-El’s words. He thought he’d been sent here because Jor-El wanted the planet to be conquered? What in the world would have made him think that? Did he not realize the meaning of the memory Jor-El had shared? 
Desperately, Jor-El reached towards him. “You don’t understand-”
But Kal-El batted his hand aside as he leaned forward, fury overtaking his expression as he interrupted with words that pierced Jor-El’s heart. “I’m not like you. I’ll never be like you! And if you come to Earth again, I’ll be here to stop you.”
And in an instant, Kal-El disappeared towards the exit in a burst of speed.
“Wait!” Jor-El cried out. But it was too late. As he watched his son vanish, the horror and heart-break and despair that he’d thought was gone, thought was over, piling up and pooling together into sea of anguish that was worse than Krypton’s destruction, than realizing he scared his son, than anything Jor-El had felt in his life or what came after it. 
The white space was empty. Kal-El was gone. And Jor-El knew he was never coming back. 
Alone, Jor El quietly spoke into the void, “I would never hurt you…my son.”
-
Less than one Earth-day later, everything somehow went from bad to worse.
“Kryptonite?” Jor-El’s eyes narrowed as the ship’s systems glowed red due to the proximity. “The poison is here?”
That shouldn’t be possible. The corrupting radiation that had been transforming Krypton’s soil into the deadly mineral shouldn’t have had any way to reach this planet, and  if none of the Kryptonite itself had made itself known yet, none should have been brought through the portal either. Where could it have possibly come from?
But before he could start to consider what Kryptonite’s presence here meant for Kal-El and his safety, the red light above him brightened. Jor-El looked up and his eyes widened as he saw the symbol forming above him. Dread started to well up in him, not helped by the fact that Jor-El could feel the ship lift into the air out of his control. 
In spite of Jor-El’s best efforts, his attempt to make Kal-El’s escape pod safe had only done so much, and now the consequences were in full effect in the worst possible way. The Kryptonite triggered the ship’s defense systems, sending out a distress signal. Brainiac had been alerted. The invasion Kal-El had accused Jor-El of would be picking up where it left off all those years ago after all.
With frantic determination, Jor-El tried to reach out and wrest control of the ship back, but no matter what ground he regained, he was powerless to stop the ship from rising further into the sky, or hold back the wave after wave of attack drones sent hurtling towards the planet’s surface. All he could do was helplessly watch as the ship blasted open a portal to reveal one of the very warships Jor-El had sent Kal-El to this world to avoid.
Then, a massive thud shook the ship, and this time when it began to ascend, he knew it was not under the ship’s own power. Jor-El quickly turned his attention to the outer sensors and felt the flickering hope within him strengthen, the beginnings of a sad smile pulling at his lips as he registered his son’s palms against the ship’s base. Of course. Kal-El had promised he would be here to stop the invasion. It didn’t matter that he was wrong about the culprit, his son had made a vow to protect this world, and he was going to see it through. 
And Jor-El was going to help him.
Jor-El felt when the ship’s hull was breached and the drones in that portion of the ship descended from the walls. Resolve flooding him, Jor-El pushed back against the programs trying to block his access to manifesting there to help. Kal-El was strong, but Jor-El had enough control to see that he was weakened. The drones were capable of wearing down a Kryptonian when in high enough numbers, and Kal-El was certainly no exception.
That didn’t stop him from throwing himself into the battle, untrained and inexperienced as Jor-El could see he was. He faced down the drones with a courage and determination that Jor-El couldn’t help but feel proud to see. But as Kal-El was knocked to the ground by a hail of drone-fire, Jor-El was painfully reminded of the dire circumstance they were in.
Just as one of the drones prepared to fire a finishing blow on his son, Jor-El pushed through the systems and forced his hologram into being right behind the drone. With a rush of speed, Jor-El flew through the drone, merging his digital form with it just enough in the process to leave the robot’s systems scrambled and useless.
The drone fell to the ground and once again, Kal-El stared up at him from the ground. This time, the expression on his face was a disheartening mix of anger and confusion, and Jor-El turned away. He couldn’t be distracted right now; they didn’t have much time. The warship was already coming through.
“Kal-El! Follow, to the heart,” Jor-El called out to his son, hoping that even if he didn’t understand the words he would at least understand the meaning. “Do what you must, quickly!”
Before he’d even finished speaking, Jor-El sped through one of the remaining drones, and then another, as he flew in the direction of the heart of the ship. As the sound of impacts and his son’s grunts of effort followed close behind him, Jor-El’s worry was momentarily drowned out by relief. In spite of the hatred he’d expressed earlier, Kal-El had still followed him. At this point, with Jor-El unable to gain control of the ship to stop it, their best chance was for Kal-El to destroy the ship’s core. Without that, it would no longer be able to hold open the portal, and Kal-El and his home would be safe.
Finally, they reached the heart, and as Kal-El went in, Jor-El turned back to the hallway and sped toward the advancing drones. Kal-El was the only one who could stop the ship now, and Jor-El would make sure he wasn’t interrupted. He could only hope that Kal-El would be able to stop it in time.
Seconds felt like an eternity as he flew through drone after drone, waiting for some sign of Kal-El’s success, when suddenly, a shockwave rocked the ship and green light began to carve its way through the normally invisible internal power lines. Never would Jor-El have thought he’d be glad to see the effects of Kryptonite again, especially since that was what had caused this all in the first place, but that didn’t stop the initial relief at knowing that the ship would not be able to maintain the portal.
And then the realization of what Kryptonite’s presence on the ship meant hit in full force and Jor-El was by Kal-El’s side, glowing green light from the dying heart casting his son’s crystal-covered skin in a sickly shade as veins of neon green glowed from under the surface of the flesh Jor-El could see. Jor-El was unable to keep the worry off his face as he knelt at Kal-El’s side and called up the holodeck one last time to help his son.
Kal-El’s eyes slowly blinked open, then widened slightly as he recognized the figure in front of him.
“You brought the Kryptonite here,” Jor-El said softly. It wasn’t a question. There was no other way the Krytonite would have made it on board. But, if he brought it here, Kal-El had to have known just how dangerous exposure to it was. He had knowingly almost destroyed himself to destroy the ship.
“I had to stop your invasion,” Kal-El responded, pain clear in his voice as he clenched his eyes shut. Tears flowed freely as he added, “I had to protect…my family.”
The pain that lanced through Jor-El at Kal-El’s statement was enough to briefly shake his control of the holodeck as he felt his heart break in two. It was almost as though the ship’s pain was his own, Kryptonite lodged in its core, tearing it apart from the inside out. The emphasis on “my family” was so intentional and final in a way that, combined with Kal-El’s confrontation with him earlier in the day, left Jor-El no room for denial. Kal-El didn’t consider him family, and now, there was no time left. They were both dying of Kryptonite poisoning, and only one of them would be able to make it.
Jor-El closed his eyes, reached into the depths of himself for what remained of his willpower, and stood up. Holding out one hand, he called on the last of the ship’s energy to lift Kal-El’s body off of the ground and construct a temporary physical hologram of an escape pod around him. It struck Jor-El in that moment, seeing his son once again in that pod, that this was the second time he was sending his son away to avoid a death that, for Jor-El, was inescapable as the world collapsed around them.
But this time, there was no form that Jor-El would come back in.
Jor-El would never be able to have the bond with him that he had dreamed of when he had first held that baby boy in his arms so long ago, but with what little of Kal-El’s language he knew, he could at least try to set something right, to help him truly understand exactly what Jor-El wanted for him.
Painfully aware of the precious seconds ticking away at what was left of their time together, Jor-El leaned forward and rested his hand against his son’s face. “Kal-El. My son.” Then, Jor-El reluctantly broke physical contact and stepped back to allow the pod to close, his gaze locked on his son’s the entire time as he whispered, “Live.”
The last thing Jor-El saw of his son was his eyes widening just before he was sealed away.
And then, the world was fire and Jor-El was gone.
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