like what do you mean he looks THAT good?? that should not be possible…

Imagine surprising Clark by shaving your bush into the shape of a heart.

Like, he gets home after a long day at the Daily Planet; he's exhausted, and all he wants is for you to suffocate him with your thighs and pussy for at least an hour. Multiple hours if he had his way.

Of course, you don't deny him; his puppy eyes are impossible to resist, but when you finally tear off your panties, he's met with…

A heart.

He’s met with a heart.

Yeah, he audibly whimpers. Like full-on whines. He also might've just cummed a little. Ignore the stain, please. If he wasn't so pussywhipped, he'd be embarrassed.

“So, uh—” he gulped. “—watcha got going on there?”

You giggled, more like cackled, at his awestruck demeanor. “Do you like it? I did it just for you.” You pointedly wiggled your hips, and for a moment he swore he saw heaven.

This was unfair. You sprawled out on his bed, completely bare, and with a fucking heart between your legs. How was he supposed to survive?

Superman, Kal-El, the last son of Krypton, defeated by his girlfriend shaving her bush into a heart.

“Thank you, Universe, for blessing me with this gift of a woman.” He bowed his head in silent prayer, muttering the words beneath his breath.

“Are you seriously praying?” you snickered.

“I’m saying grace.”

“Amen.” He gave one final bow of his head, then leaped forward, burying himself between your thighs. Where he was meant to be.

clark kent x f!reader

should I be doing classwork? yes. am I creating more stress for myself later by writing this instead of doing said classwork? also yes. worth it, though. enjoy <3

wc: 1.2k

warnings. SMUT, no use of y/n, implied relationship, cowgirl position bc he likes looking up into your eyes 🥰, interrupted sex except you keep going while he's on the phone oopsie 🤭, kinda silly & playful (not super serious), mutual orgasms, cute ending.

clark kent taglist: @marvel-hiddles-stark @teeth-sheesh @starlit-whispers @kissmxcheek @starsmoon @averyhotchner @pinkgirlblogs @x-fanaccount1-x @mollymal @rynwritesstuff @froggypoggy222 @dreamreaperrr @sullyosully @marymustdie @dadwh0re @pumpkinspicedlove @emergencycontact @alwayslikekath @angelkisscherie (interested in joining any of my taglists? fill out the anonymous form HERE!)

✧ ma & pa kent call at an...inopportune time. ✧

"S-Shoot..."

Clark groans softly, his head tipping back for a moment. Both of your hands are on his shoulders, nails digging into his white button-up as you move up and down on top of him. He barely even got through the front door before you were on him, not that he minds.

"Oh, god," you breathe, starting to swivel your hips a bit with each bounce. "You just looked so good today...could barely contain myself..."

He smiles, hands smoothing down over your hips to give your thighs a firm squeeze.

"Really? I couldn't tell."

CW: violence and possibly ooc writing</3

Synopsis: After getting hired in one of the finest journalism firm in metropolis, your new co-worker Clark Kent takes a liking to you and makes it his mission to get to know you (as a friendly colleague of course..). But love truly works in mysterious ways and little the two of you know, you both have a secret double life.

WC: 1.8k+

“You’re Hired.”

Perry White’s voice rings in your ears, as you gave him a smile that could reach your eyes and a firm handshake, giving off the enthusiasm that most people expect from interns that has just gotten their dream job. However, this was merely just a show, an act, an alter-ego. Truth is, you weren’t just any ordinary civilian looking for a job, you were an undercover detective, simply in the mask of a curious and fresh new intern. Before heading to the interview, you made sure that you had your given story fully memorized and that there were no holes to be seen.

You were born and raised in Gotham and had moved here in Metropolis for college with a major in communications and a minor in literature, graduating magna cum laude among your peers. After graduating, you had jumped around different jobs for several years before being hired as a blog writer for a business company where you worked for four and a half years before resigning due to low salary and unfair treatment. Now here you were, applying for a job at the Daily Planet, bright and ready to join the crew of journalist with a faux excitement—at least that’s what you told Perry.

Clark Kent is a munch. There was absolutely nothing he enjoyed more than being smothered by your thighs. He could, and has, stayed between them for hours, content to let you writhe in pleasure while he ate his meal.

He was a man obsessed.

“I had a bad day. Sit on my face, please.” He kneeled down in front of couch, in front of you, his baby blue eyes looking up at you in full desperation. Not even a full five minutes of him being home and he'd already latched onto you like a koala.

The book you'd been reading was completely forgotten as you threw it aside, confident that the cushions would protect it from harm. You stared down at him and guided him so that his chin was resting on your thigh. “Hello there to you.” You snorted, and like clockwork, you reached down and threaded your fingers through his curls.

The action made him melt. All the tension in his body faded, and his shoulders slumped. He exhaled, nuzzling his cheek against your unfortunately clothed covered thigh.

“So…can you please sit on my face now?” Wordlessly, you nodded.

He grinned, dimples on full display as he sprang up and effortlessly scooped you up from the couch and into his arms. An action you’d grown used to after dating him for so long. He made a beeline straight for the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

You were in for a long afternoon.

Before I Let Go

content warning: positive family vibes, brief sexual mentions, tooth rotting fluff, talks of marriage & babies, mentions of pet loss, mentions of food & eating, clark being the best boyfriend ever, no use of y/n, second person, reader is fem presenting and uses she/her pronouns, potential grammatical errors, not edited

word count: 5.5K+

pairing: david!clark kent x black!reader

summary: you finally invite clark to one of your family’s cookouts

author’s note: heyyy… the goal was to have this pushed out during february, but it ended up being a bit longer than anticipated. also it’s rare that i do x readers but i wanted to create a universal, cultural feel so behold me breaking expectations for myself. i hope you guys enjoy and please take care 🩷

“SO, you’re going to step to the right with your left foot, and cross it behind your right—no, Clark your other right. There we go! Clark, you don’t have to be so rigid when you dance. Loosen your hips more.”

“Wha—I’m not rigid!”

“Yes, you are, oh my lord. I refuse to believe you played Danny Zuko in college.”

“‘Cause I didn’t… I told you I played Eugene…”

“Ah, probably ‘cause that was the only role that didn’t involve a high dancing ability.”

“Hey! N-no… only role where they’d let me wear my glasses…”

Clark’s stomach twisted itself in a knot at the thought of meeting your family. Mainly because you spoke so highly of them, your face brightening up, glowing in a pattern with the sun every time you talk about them, finding ways to dip anything about your family in your conversations. You talked about how your parents are just itching to meet him and lightly joked about how your grandparents have been asking for babies at any chance they get making the tips of his ears soak into a pink hue. Or how your younger cousins were begging for someone to play basketball/football with them. Or how your uncles and father were only dying to have a new grilling buddy. Or how your mother and aunts couldn’t stop gawking over his Kryptonian stature whenever you sent photos of you and Clark in the family group chat (‘Oh, he is huge!’ ‘Was he 99th percentile? His poor mother…’ ‘Good luck to your uterus if ya’ll have children.’ ‘Mom!’)

He playfully joked around for a while when he’d be invited to a cookout during the early stages of your relationship, but as your relationship grows, the reality of the invitation settled in and soon he found himself in your apartment trying to learn and encode every important line dance. Heated puffs leave his lips when he accidentally steps on your foot or mixes up his right from his left. He’s perched the tip of the world on his shoulders like it weighed practically nothing, but cramming The Electric Slide, The Wobble, Before I Let Go, The Cupid Shuffle, and so much more within the span of a couple days began to make him more self-conscious of his dancing abilities he hadn’t needed to use since the early years of university. Superman didn’t need to learn to dance to save the world, but for the sake of you, Clark Kent would learn every dance ever created just to make you smile. He spent the most time on Before I Let Go, specifically the version sung by Beyoncé; he liked the way his heart buzzed a bit faster as the lyrics warped around his mind. It was the song that made his dimpled cheeks glisten with sweat the most

The day of the cookout, you suggest that he not eat a lot due to the surplus of food you know your family’s already cooking up, but even with the reminder, the thought of food was placed in the back of his mind as his nerves caught up to him as the morning drawled on by the spools of golden light that morning.

“Okay, weird suggestion,” you began, calling out from your connected bathroom, attaching a gold earring within the hole of your ear, “My family are big Cowboy’s fans, and would automatically give you the stamp of approval if you were to show your support. It’s on the bed if you want to put it on.”

Clark adjusted the leather belt around his waist, situating the rim of his pants against his hips before he poked his head in the bathroom. He watched you for a second, the smell of vanilla and honey hitting his nose, making him wobbly at the knees. The gloss of your ebony curls catching the light that framed your face like you had been freshly kissed by an angel. Your skin looked almost golden like it was found in fresh spring underneath the babbling brook. The cotton t-strap gave his body a gentle squeeze that made his heart softly buzz. He adjusted the rim of his classes before stepping closer in, “And what if I don’t watch a lot of football, nor like the Cowboys?”

A smirk drew upon your glossed lips as you gave yourself one more check in the mirror, “Well then you’re asking for an early death-wish per both sides of my family.”

The drive over to your family home only made his nerves bunch up closer together that almost made his heart crunch and ache. Your fingers buzzed with nostalgia as you could practically feel the sensation of your home. The memories of holidays rushing in, the fresh kisses your mother would delicately place on your face as the world spun like a thread of golden helix. Being small enough where your father could easily toss you over his shoulder as laughter rang out from your lips like church bells. Leaning on your grandmother’s shoulder as she told stories of your mother from when she carried the same youth in your eyes like you once did; stories that you hoped you got to tell your own children. You were caught up in your world a bit that it took you awhile to catch the knob of Clark’s knuckles beginning to flash white through his flesh.

“You okay? You’ve been quiet. Think this is the longest I’ve heard you go without grumbling about the other cars on the road or even taking count of how many drivers make illegal turns,” you question, gently giving him a pat on the knee as you guys stopped at a traffic light.

He swallows a bit; his Adam’s apply bobbing up and down. His grip loosens on the steering wheel, the flash of white dying out as his skin returned back to normal, “Yeah... sorry. I’m just… you know… like—”

“—Nervous?” You finish the word for him, your eyes softening a bit, brows soft with sympathy. From the passenger seat, you reach an arm over and rubbed his back, trying to help to soothe his nerves down. Even though you weren’t a superhuman from an intergalactic universe yourself, you could feel his heart and the labyrinth of his brain shifting into uncharted waters. That bit of comfort on his back worked to be a healing balm, keeping his head above the waters as you were like his lifeboat.

“I’ve faced monsters, stopped falling buildings, stopped trains, have faced the almost the whole world against my case, but yet, meeting your parents seems to be the thing that makes me the most nervous,” he began, gently accelerating the car at the start of the greenlight, “I want them to like me. Accept me as the man that loves their daughter to pieces, so then maybe one day…” he trailed off, his eyes gleaming a bit, pupils growing bigger, giving a quick look to your face, his face flushing softly. You didn’t catch the look he gave to your bare ring finger.

“So then maybe what one day, what?”

He looked back at you for a second, silently cursing himself that he allowed his thoughts to rush out of his mind, breaking through the dam he’d created for himself. He gave you a smile, his cheek dimpling. With a quick squeeze of your thigh, he muttered a quick, never mind.’

You internally frowned at him, swallowing back down the end of his statement, but you didn’t push it, wanting to give him some space. You turned on your phone for a second, texting your mother that you were almost home. You sighed, but smiled anyways at him, “Well, I think they’ll love you for you. Yes, I’m a bit biased in the say, but I wouldn’t call my family intimidating. Yes, they can be a bit much, actually they can be a lot, but they mean well. As long as you’re yourself, trust me, they’ll love you. I’ve not had one bad word to say about you. I mean the only thing I think you should steer clear of is that my mom and aunt – and perhaps my grandmother may smack your bottom. A-All in good fun though, they really mean no harm by it! You could say they also see you as one of the family.”

Clark pressed his lips together, but the slight tug and flutter at his lips gave away the smirk that began to grow as a laugh rang out. Your heart unclenched itself a bit, your own nerves fading away seeing his own fears and nervousness buckle down. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Upon arriving at your childhood home, there was a slight excitement that buzzed in between your fingertips; your excitement grew hearing the low base tune of the speakers in the backyard, the tang of food and spices that reached your nose causing your lips to water. As you bounded up the steps, you turned back to see Clark adjusting the rim of his classes and fiddling with his jersey. His nerves had made a comeback and started to burn at his hands. His hands found themselves comfortable in his pocket for a while before he adjusted them at his sides, before he found his pockets to be the golden spot.

“You still nervous?” You carefully asked him, placing your own hands on his chest, hoping to settle his nerves like you once did in the car.

He replied to you with a lighthearted smile that made his cheeks flush a soft baby pink color and all over again he felt like a fumbling, young boy all over again, clutching a bouquet of flowers close to his chest, feeling his heart run in circles like it had ran loose trying to catch the sun before the moon rose up in the sky.

“I-I… maybe… I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. I truly want to make a good impression. Feels like my hearts gonna beat right out of my chest.” His chest ached as another bundle of nervous laughter bubbled out of his lips. A misty hand ran through his dark curls; a little habit he’d been doing since his high school years.

Your hands moved to his own, giving them a squeeze, the warmth threading through your bones. A kind of sunshine warmth that could perhaps burn away any of the negative feelings that occupied his mind.

“I think your fear shows how much you really care and how much this means to you. Which is ironically sweet in a way. If this really care, don’t try to fight the nerves. Embrace them.”

A dimple indented at his cheek once more, and he shook his head, trying to swallow back that smile anytime he looked at solely you. The full parts of yourself he had found within the mundane things in his life; a world washed in color that he could pinpoint with just the graze of his finger. Your eyes were washed in sunshine, bathing in the pool of gold that spun around like a string of thread. You simply had tugged your heartstrings around his finger.

He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips, the buzz vibrating through his upper chest before it simmered down when he pulled away. He squeezed your bum slightly as you rang the doorbell.

Clark’s chest tightened again, washing him over in a chill, but that warmth pivoted back in when he saw your mother come behind the screen door. You had her eyes from the first glance, and that soft roundness that surrounded your own cheeks and hips. At her roots began the fresh wave of silver that seemed to sliver between her still black hair. The wrinkles around her eyes crinkled in tune with her lips as she opened the door, immediately pulling you into a hug first as she said your name in the same breath as she did when first joined her earth-side. You melted into her fresh honey and vanilla scent — the scent of home. Something that could make your heart ache and yearn more for the comfort of just being home again. The sanctuary where the majority of your childhood was built, where your first steps were taken, first time to ride a bike without the training wheels, where you could finally pronounce the name of your favorite fruits correctly, where you took your first prom pictures with your date and your father couldn’t stop dabbing hits misty eyes with your mom’s handkerchief. You rocked back and forth in the hug, both chuckling as you guys regained your balance again.

She took your face in her hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks bones as she held you like you were the Earth and you could move the moon and stars for her every night. She was relieved at the roundness in your cheeks down to the fabric of your body, thankful meals had been doing you good. Her hands dabbled a bit at your outfit before her identical eyes found the tall stature next to you.

His glasses had slid to the rim of his nose, reflecting the pinkness that coated his cheeks like dusted rose petals kissed his face like how you left his cheeks with soft kisses from the morning light that dappled through. He gave her a crooked smile, his mind stumbling over the synapses of his brain.

“Uh, H-hi! I’m Clark Kent. It’s really nice to meet—”

His words were cut short, as he grunted. The source coming from your mother who had pulled him into one of her rib crushing hugs. Like yourself, your mother was almost half of Clark’s height, but she made up for it in her strength. Your mother smile deepened, as she squeezed your boyfriend a bit further, before she pulled away, giving him a gentle pat on his cheeks and his bottom.

“Welcome to the family Clark! I’ve heard all about you,” She moved to cradle his face like she had done to you prior. Her hands were warm against his cheeks and almost doughy, like the soft bread his mother would make back home in Smallville. It made his heart melt in a puddle and it took all of his strength and motion not to pick it back up into his chest.

“Wow, she really wasn’t lying about that bone structure,” she noted, massaging the area underneath his jaw before finally letting him go. Her eyes glossed over his tall muscular stature, like his body was carefully sculpted by the gods, “Were you 99th percentile by any chance?”

“Mama!” You exclaimed, your face growing warm as Clark sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, but you managed to relax softly hearing his laugh bubble past the front of his throat. He fixed his glasses, the glass flashing in the light over toward you for a second.

“I-I don’t think so ma’am, but my ma and pa do note that I was a chunky baby to say the least.”

The redness that glowed on your face had settled into a newfound warmth, something that had crawled into your heart, turning the cogs into a soft tune that buzzed throughout your body. The little synapses had connected between your mom and boyfriend. The tsunami of nerves had settled into an ocean pattern that he could map out, tracing with the tips of his finger in a dance. Maybe it was because she looked so much like you and had that identical glimmer in her eye that you carried in yours and it only led him to believe meeting the rest of your family tree would bring a source of joy and comfort.

Upon entering your childhood home, Clark couldn’t help but marvel at your home – he could see where your heart had grown, where your heart had been cultivated and freshly plucked a few times and now he was the one cradling it. The pictures littered on the wall showcased your growth from in your parents arms, all pruned face, until your growth now. As he noted one of the photos on the wall, his eyes caught onto the mass of fluff curled up in the corner on a fleshy pillow. His senses caught on to the soft, pumping heartbeat that pulsated through his ears. From his distinctions he could tell it was an animal heartbeat, specifically one that belonged to an elderly dog.

Clark gently patted your back, the hand sliding down to the curve of your backside. You looked up for a second, lips parted, eyebrows scrunched.

“You okay?” You asked, curving an arm around his waist, your mind softening at his large hand. Your hand soon found the space on top of his.

“Yeah,” He replied, nodding his head, pushing his glasses closer on the bridge of his nose, “Who’s that?”

You saw where his eyes fell, on the little bundle in the corner near the fireplace and your eyes softened a bit like they were in the clouds; just a bit foggy and translucent. A ghost of a smile spread on your lips.

“That’s Bruno.”

You walked a bit closer, footsteps grown softer like the ground had crumpled into sand beneath your feet. You crouched down a bit, running your hand over the mostly silver-grey fur that still felt warm and soft under your touch. You saw the ghostly figure of your middle school self, that too used to run your fingers through his hair that bled with youth and somehow you had convinced yourself then that he would live on forever. He’d seen you grow and your youth bleed through, while you had watched him grow too, with his lethargic walks, the world softening through his eyes and he could only slightly make out the soft murmurs of your voice as they faded into a buzzing tune that could send his tail wagging.

“Hey, buddy,” your voice softly cooed out, trying to be careful with his now delicate body between your hands. Languid actions trickled out of his tail as it seemed like with all the old that rushed through his body. He still would always remember your touch and your sweet scent that tattooed through his nostrils. His eyes opened, the foggy veil casting upon them, but they seemed to sparkle with that boyish puppy youth.

Clark squatted beside you as petted him, no saying much, but his presence was enough and spoke louder than a painting.

“He’s been with us since I’ve been in late elementary early middle school, but I feel like I’ve known him for all my life honestly,” you gave a watery chuckle, the words getting choked up in your throat a bit as his tongue poked out of his mouth permanently since loosing all his teeth, “He’s lost his vision and sight over the years, but we’re trying to ensure that he lives as comfortably as possible until he—you k-know. My mom and dad said maybe he’s waiting until I give them their first set of grandchildren before he crosses over that rainbow bridge.”

Clark hummed slightly, finding that smile on your lips before he mirrored it, letting out his own hand for Bruno to sniff before he damply licked it, ticking the flesh on his open palm. He rubbed his other hand over your shoulder as a sniffed racked your body. You laughed pitifully as a couple tears ran down your cheeks.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You let out a trembling breath, and you knew that Burno would never hear how crumbled you her; he couldn’t help you pick your heart from right under the ground from where you had spilled it. “I just don’t think I’m ready to let him go yet, even if it means I won’t have any babies to keep him alive.”

“And that’s okay,” Clark replied softly, choosing the string of his words, but he choose them wisely like he was a poet, “I think you’re grieving so much cause you love him so much, and that’s okay. We love so much in this lifetime and we hold space in our hearts for so much. Maybe something could happen between now and perhaps if those babies do find themselves crawling around in a few years, but keep loving him. Maybe focus on the now before we dwell into the future. Okay?”

His fingers grazed underneath the sections where the tears had leaked out, pressing a kiss on the side of your head. He wrapped an arm around your waist, squeezing it gently, feeling the warmth of your body.

You leaned against him for a while, watching Bruno curl back into his spot, his back slowly rising and falling. “No, you’re right. Shit I’m sorry for getting so mushy,” you wiped your eyes with the back of your palms again, finally looking at Clark. He looked softer and thankfully more relaxed, his body more fluid.

“No, don’t apologize for being human,” he softly replied, “I’m here, okay. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

With the music throbbing though the walls of your home, and the smell of food wafting from backyard causing your stomach to let out close to resembling animalistic sounds, your mother led the both of you guys outside to the harmonious sun that warmed your skin and Clark thought you looked absolutely radiant.

“How you gonna be home for almost an hour and not say hi to me, miss ma’am?!”

You knew that voice from anywhere as your brain washed with a flood of memories from childhood. Your father stood near the grill, sweat beading already on his forehead that made his skin look freshly polished. Time had worn on his skin like a mahogany clock, but his eyes had never worn down on his kindness. Your uncles cleared a path for you as you practically barreled toward your father. He gave a hearty laugh as he swung you around and you buried your head in his shoulder. The same pattern you did when you were a little girl and he would come back from work. He smelled like smoke and heartwood, presumably from the grill he’d been at since the sun had mellowed over. He took a good look at you for a second, an identical sparkle in warmth that had carried over in your eyes.

“God, it’s like every time I see you, you get more and more grown up.”

Your nose and eyes crinkled together as you smiled, something Clark had caught notice of when you were really flushed; he noticed how at ease you were around your familial circle, making his own heart soften and swoon. Your father had finally caught on to your boyfriend, he obviously sticking out like a sore thumb.

Clark pushed up his glasses again, shoving his hands in his pockets, as he forged your father with an awkward smile across his features.

“Didn’t know we ordered a piece of white chocolate for today’s menu.”

A bundle of redness gathered around the flush around Clark’s neck, and a strangled sector of laughter bubbled from his throat and thankfully your father joined in, giving him a firm slap on the back before they found a flow with a handshake.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise watching both your father and Clark clasp their handshake to a quick hug. Your swatted him on the backside, lips parted as you chuckled, “I don’t think I taught you that.”

“You didn’t need to,” he replied back sending you a wink. “Your father and I actually met on a Cowboys superfan Facebook page, and he filled me in on everything to know about the Cowboys.”

“So, you could say Mr. White Chocolate and I have already met with each other before you formally introduced us to each other,” your father chimed in, giving Clark another firm pat on the back.

“Nice to know that my boyfriend and father have already met without my acknowledgement.” Sarcasm leaked from your voice as you rolled your eyes and gave Clark a poke in his ribs, causing him to only reply with a swift kiss on your cheek.

As much as you wanted to join the chatter that blossomed between your father and boyfriend that branched out into conversations with your uncles, your aunts, younger cousins, and grandparents could argue that they were more excited to converse with you. In between conversations about your new work, apartment, denying any proposals, the stature and physique of Clark, baby rumors and nostalgic memories from your childhood together, you kept sneaking glances across the yard to see Clark, his nerves loosened as he chatted with your uncles and father at the grill.

You two had finally met back up at the food station – all the food in silver trays laid out neatly along the blue and white checkered table cloth; he piled up food on his third serving of food, lips watering until he saw you again holding a baby close to your chest, softly bouncing them, a hand rubbing the fabric of their back.

“Hey, hon.” His voice had grown a bit softer around the edges. His eyes found yours before they dropped down to the baby in your arms. “Who’s this little one?”

You gave a brief look at the sweet bundle in your arms, her dark hair sprawled with curls, chubby first poking out from her pink blanket. Your smiled warmed with the blush rising on your face, not only from the sun, “This is Deliliah. My older cousin Jackie and her husband had a baby a little over a month ago and I thought the new parents could use a break since they also have a pair of twins running around.” Your eyes saw the plate of food, the macaroni, fried chicken, collars, candied yams, cornbread, white rice, baked chicken, and green beans he managed to pile on his plate, “The food good?”

He flushed a bit, moving the soft tufts of dark hair from his forehead from the sweat that clouded up like dew pearls near his forehead, “Probably some of the best food I’ve had in my life. Next to my ma’s cooking of course.”

You chuckled warmly, patting Delilah on the back as she grunted softly, gently shushing her. “I think she’s getting hungry. I’m going to see if Jackie has a bottle on her so this little miss can eat.”

“Have you got a chance to eat?” He questioned, grabbing himself a case of plastic utensils.

“No,” You breathed out, feeling the gnawing in your stomach only throb louder, “I haven’t seen my aunts in a while, so they wanted to talk my ear off, and then my little cousins wanted to make bracelets, so I’ve found myself quite occupied. I’m starving though. My stomach’s been screaming at me since we’ve gotten here.”

He nodded, setting his plate down for a second before grabbing a new plastic plate and loading up your favorites on it, “Clark, it’s okay I can—”

“—Let me fix you a plate, okay? You go find a seat and I’ll also bring you a cup of some iced tea.”

“With a lemon?”

“With a lemon.”

After Clark had loaded up your plate, you sat at one of the circle tables in the back to catch your breath from all your family members. You cherished them and you felt warm at how accepting they had been of Clark, but between the questions of marriage, future babies, your job, his job, the ribbons, ties, and colorful beads of friendship bracelets, your body needed time to refuel itself. You decided to cradle Delilah a bit longer after her bottle to give Jackie and her husband more of a break.

You watched the scene in front of you, the music thumping (some people had already gotten up to dance) from the couple speakers, your parents were dancing and you were thankful you had grown past the point of your life where you would fluster in embarrassment of them showing affection, but you’ve grown to the age where you loved watching them; loved watching them spread these seeds of their love around. Soon those seeds transferred to you, and you couldn’t help imagining you and Clark’s future. The baby girl in your arms full from her bottle, passed out in your arms brought you closer to that potential future. Your family glistened in the sun – the sun which you still would dance under until it was tucked under the wispy clouds.

“You okay?”

Clark had occupied the seat next to you with another plate. The sun had moved to an amber color that washed over the yard, the string of lights hung around starting to turn on to help illuminate the area around like they were little fireflies of life that pumped around with vigor.

“Yeah. Baby girl just had a full bottle and she’s passed out. Another plate?”

With his mouth full of peach cobbler, he paused before swallowing his food, “Can’t help myself. Never experienced so much flavor all at once.”

“We can take some home if you’d like. To go boxes are in the house,” you suggested, shifting Delilah slightly in your arms.

He hummed slightly, taking another scoop in between his lips. He looked at Delilah, heart growing in size just looking at her from her tiny feet to the soft plush pinkness of her lips. He gently rubbed a finger over her skin and she squirmed a bit to the new source of contact but relaxed under it.

“Everyone’s had really nice things to say about you,” you began, rubbing a finger over the pillowy flesh of Deliliah’s closed fist, your heart growing seeing how her hands where about the same size as Clark’s fingers.

He stopped eating for a second, gazing his attention back on you, “Really?”

You nodded, a grin growing on your lips, “Yeah, nothing but positivity from everyone I’ve talked to. Told you, you had nothing to truly worry about.” Your mind recalled moments seeing Clark help your grandparents walk around, being gentle around the kids, even if they did ask him endless questions about his height, or had you actually been dating a “super famous” basketball player because of his height.

He smiled into his food, a bit hesitant to respond, but by how misty his eyes had grown, you could tell his was overjoyed. Deliliah let out a soft coo and he smiled at her, something in his eyes grew and thankfully you caught on to the pattern of where his mind traveled off to.

He’d never saw this maternal slide of yourself before, but it made him warm to have it unlocked as he saw how cozy and looked against you. Like she was this perfect puzzle piece that was made for you to hold against your chest. It made butterflies flutter throughout him that made him giddy all over.

“You wanna hold her?”

The blue in Clark’s eyes widened and there he was again, that bumbling fool of yours that you loved to death. “R-Really?”

Before you could give him more time to respond, you were already shifting the sleeping Deliliah into his arms, and he quickly adjusted is arms. Deliliah’s eyes scrunched together before they peeled open revealing a soft pair of light brown eyes, that looked almost a golden shade due to the position of the sun. She made a disgruntled noise from her blanket that trickled off her body, exposing her to a light breeze and Clark immediately allowed her to settle in his chest as he murmured to her softly, rubbing her back as her body sunk into his own.

“Hey, you’re okay… little cold, yeah, I know, I know, but you’re okay now. I got ‘ya.”

You had seen multiple sides of Clark that day, watching his nerves and anxious thoughts soon turn into a thin veil and melt away, going in the same flow of a lake. You’d seem him grow closer to your family, be the central of the conversations, the talk on everyone’s lips down from his tall and structured frame to the softness the opposed and followed his rather large build. How mellowed his insides were. His body worked like he was already part of the family, following into a natural rhythm that he always came to trace when his nerves flared up again.

But this side was different.

It was more paternal.

The way Deliliah naturally found the rhythm against his chest, like she had fit perfectly. He kept an arm around your chair as you finished twisting off the remaining strands of a bracelet for your younger cousin who was waiting by your side, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her beads in her hair making a clacking noise.

“Are you almost done, you’re taking foreveeerrrrr.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, twisting off the final ends. “Here you go Mckayla.”

She released a gummy smile, slipping the bracelet over her small wrist. “Thank you!” As she was about to skip away, she caught notice of Clark cradling Deliliah.

“You had a baby!?”

You and Clark poked your heads up at the same time and looked at each other, both flushed. His mouth parted, brain trying to counter the words, but nothing came out. You placed a hand on his knee squeezing it. Before chuckling and leaning back in your chair.

“N-no, no. This is cousin Jackie’s baby girl.”

Mckayla tilted her head, brown eyes darting from you to Clark, “You guys no baby?”

Before you could even respond, Clark shifted Deliliah to his shoulder, patting her back slightly has she hiccupped, “Not yet. But maybe soon someday. We’re hoping.”

You bit your lips, watching how his pupils only grew bigger. Lips creasing into a small smile. He looked at Delilah before his eyes slid to you, looking at your figure up and down. A glow coated his face and it was difficult to tell if it was the gleam from the sweat or honey glow of the sun.  God he was in love with you.

With the young children knocking out and the stacks of to-go boxes stacking, the cookout was to an end slowly and lethargically. You had finally convinced Clark for a line dance or two, and thankfully those dancing lessons had paid off.

Even if you and your family had to teach him how to correctly do the Wobble and might’ve had to stare at your feet for the remainder of the songs but as soon as Beyoncé’s version of Before I Let Go came on, he couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear, dimples full on display, that sparkle in his eye. He didn’t say on physical script and took you in his arms and just danced with you. You couldn’t stop laughing, nor could you care how out of place you two looked, undefining the natural rhythm created by your family around you.

Nothing had mattered so much more in that moment than you. You were truly his everything. In this moment, he didn’t think about duties regarding Superman, the fate of the city, what might lie in the future of you two or the past; even the velvet case that was locked away at your shared apartment in the lock box.

clark kent x f!reader

something short and sweet with clark on this monday <3

wc: 838

warnings. SMUT, semi-public/high risk smut (in the elevator), implied relationship, fingering (f receiving), he just wants you to ~relax~.

clark kent taglist: @marvel-hiddles-stark @teeth-sheesh @starlit-whispers @kissmxcheek @starsmoon @averyhotchner @pinkgirlblogs @x-fanaccount1-x @mollymal @rynwritesstuff @froggypoggy222 @dreamreaperrr @sullyosully @marymustdie @dadwh0re @pumpkinspicedlove @emergencycontact @alwayslikekath @angelkisscherie (interested in joining any of my taglists? fill out the anonymous form HERE!)

✧ it's interview day for your dream job at the daily planet and your man makes sure you're stress-free going into it. ✧

"Good morning, Mr. Kent."

Clark smiles softly when you step into the elevator with him.

"Is today finally the big day?"

As if he doesn't already know.

"It is," you hum, unable to help a small smile from tugging at the corners of your lips.

He looks down at you as you fiddle nervously with the folder in your hands, no doubt containing your resume and a few of your previous articles. The doors slide shut and the world's slowest elevator begins its climb to the top floor.

"You seem nervous."