#superman2025

(based off all star superman)

Clark who makes you a serum that contains his powers in it, letting you feel how it is to be superhuman for 24 hours, having you soar skies with him, body barely touching the tips of skyscrapers.

Clark who sewed a supersuit for you, just like his so you could match.

Clark who, despite you having superpowers like his, doesn’t let you fend off the monsters that raid Metropolis. He doesn’t like you getting hurt, though for 24 hours it’s almost impossible to.

Clark who laughs as he deals with the rushes of energy you have due to the Kryptonian DNA pulsing in your veins, watching you sprint laps around the city, zooming across blue skies and bursting through clouds.

Clark that at the end of the day when the sun starts to descend between the buildings, sky turning into a deep orange and yellow, hints of pink dotting it, brings you to the top of LexCorp, sitting with you at the very top.

He holds your hand, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as the effects start to fade and you feel the strength leaving your body. You feel weak, body aching, head pounding. But the warmth from him seeps into your body from the touch.

You don’t feel the pain as much now, with him surrounding you, and now you can see the stars blinking. The sky turns dark, the moon shining down on you. You forget for a moment that there was ever a day where you didn’t feel the air on your cheeks, didn’t feel the dopamine rush when you punched into criminals and sent them flying.

If you had to describe Lex Luthor in one word, it would be "bitch." A total bitch. What did Veronica say in that one musical? Oh yeah, he was a mythic bitch.

For example, he decided to open a rift in the multiverse. It tore through the city, and you fell into it. Now you were stuck in another universe with absolutely no idea how to get back to yours. What a bitch.

“Look, I know I sound crazy but I promise I'm not.”

You probably looked insane standing in front of his apartment, pleading for help. Fortunately, the hallway was deserted. A ghost town, but that was due to change, and you did not need anyone else seeing you in the state you were in.

You tilted your head to look up at Clark. Uncanny couldn’t even begin to explain how uneasy you felt staring at him. The man in front of you was not your best friend and the person you grew up with. He was nothing but a stranger who wore his face and his baby-blue eyes.

You gulped. Maybe this wasn't as good an idea as you thought it would be. You certainly hadn't thought it out. Only knocked and prayed he would open the door.

Clark stood in the middle of his doorway, his body tipped forward slightly as his hand still gripped the doorknob. From the corner of your eye, you could see his knuckles turning pale.

His gaze made you shiver. You weren't used to him looking at you as if you were a stranger. It felt wrong. Completely and utterly wrong.

“I think maybe you should come in.” Exhaustion seeped through his voice, and guilt immediately bubbled up in your gut like acid as you took in his sleep-disheveled appearance. You must've woken him up.

He stepped back and pressed himself up against the tiny wall of his apartment, giving you enough space to walk in without being crowded. You brushed past him, and the door closed with a soft ‘click’ behind you.

“Oh, wow, I haven't been here in forever.”

You felt star-struck. The walls, the decoration, and even the welcome mat—all of it was the same just as you remembered.

“Why is that?” You didn't have to look at him to know he wore a confused expression. His voice said it all.

“You and Lois moved in together a few years back.” You mindlessly shrugged as you struggled to kick off your shoes, stumbling around until both of them were finally off and kicked to the side.

A wave of emotions danced across his features and you struggled to remain silent. You could unpack whatever that was later. Right now all you wanted was to hibernate for a hundred years.

You trudged down to the living room with Clark's much heavier footsteps following not far behind. Neither of you spoke, and you made an immediate beeline for the couch.

You collapsed onto the piece of furniture with a breathless groan. Finally, you could relax. But before you did that, you snatched the nearest pillow and buried your face into it, letting out the loudest, highest-pitched scream your throat could manage. What a release.

A few feet away, Clark tilted his head as he fully took you in. He looked pensive. Not exactly lost in thought, but just thinking.

“Who are you?”

You turned your head to the side, your cheek being the unfortunate victim of being smashed against the pillow. “I am the best and worst thing to ever happen to you.” Or at least that's what Martha and Jonathan told everyone when they asked about you. “I tackled you in a field and the rest was history.”

“That doesn't answer my question…?” He now stood next to the coffee table, so close that every time he shifted his leg would brush against the wood.

You were never good at hiding your emotions. Even worse at reeling them in. “You're my best friend.” You finally sighed and watched in slight embarrassment as his eyes widened and his mouth fell ajar.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

No, your life was a dumpster fire, but he didn't need to know that. At least not yet. “I’m a little frazzled. Mainly just exhausted.”

He nodded, seemingly content enough with your answer, which you appreciated because speaking right now felt like a chore.

Experimentally, he stepped forward. One step, then another, until he hovered just a few inches away from your upper half. You were half unconscious and completely used to the closeness that came with Clark. It never fazed you. Not anymore.

He studied you intensely as if you were a painting in a museum. It might've been your imagination, but it was almost as if he were admiring you. Which was crazy because there was nothing to admire. Unless autism, ADHD, and a whole lot of issues are counted. Which you highly doubted.

I love how immersive the new DCU is with subtitles and clear costumes and characters, anachronistic but modern (so it feels like a parallel universe to ours), and the languages! Like Clark continuing to talk in English and being like ‘why am I talking louder?’ is so accurate. And even just Kara having a bag of stuff with her or the shape of her Kryptonian shuttle being so foreign to a ‘human’ one.

Definitely gonna read her comic before watching her film (was so surprised when I learnt that Tom King of all people wrote it and it’s supposedly good???).

📖 Read Full Article

The Man of Steel returns in an epic new adventure from James Gunn's DC Universe!

⭐ Starring:

David Corenswet as Superman

Rachel Brosnahan as Lois Lane

Nicholas Hoult as Lex Luthor

🎬 Directed by James Gunn

💥 Action-packed battles 💥 Krypto the Superdog 💥 A brand-new DC Universe begins

Superman follows Clark Kent as he struggles to balance his Kryptonian heritage with his human upbringing while facing the dangerous Lex Luthor. The film officially launched the new DC Universe and was released on July 11, 2025. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}

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.

he’d already forgiven you way before you apologised, but he likes the attention.

Clark was off in Smallville, helping his parents out while you stayed back, just to look after the apartment. At least one of you is still here to take care of everything, but Clark was worried since you’re quite clumsy and forgetful.

Oftentimes, forgetting to eat or sleep.

It was 11:54p.m., and you were on facetime with Clark, talking about everything and nothing. His face is sleepy, hair all messy and eyelids heavy. You, on the other hand, looked way too energetic for someone who’s been working all day and moving around a lot.

Clark swears it’s because of your phone. He always blames everything on your screen addiction! You can’t help it, everything is so fun, and the newest games you’ve downloaded are even more fun!

At some point, Clark yawns deep into his stomach, and you can see the screen move along with him. “Goodnight.” You say softly. He perks up, looking back at you. “You’re sleeping?”

“No. But you’re sleepy.” You say softly. “Please sleep, love.” He says softly. Those puppy eyes almost made you cave, but you were stubborn. “Just go to sleep, I’ll sleep in a bit too.” It was a lie, but anything to get him to bed.

“Nooo…” He says softly, almost whining. “Just sleep first. Please?”

A warm feeling fills your stomach, and you feel a bit flustered, what’s his problem? “Go sleep, Clark. You’re tired. I’m not. I promise I’ll sleep in a bit.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh. Go sleep, baby.” He mumbles sleepily, a deep groan rumbling from your phone.

“Not yet…..” You whine back, huffing.

“Sleep.”

“No.”

“Sweetheart… you’re going to be cranky and tired in the morning. Please? For both of our sakes’.” He says softly, coaxing you into sleep. You fight more, feeling extra stubborn. “Not yet. It’s barely 12! I’ll sleep later, pinky promise.”

“Your later always ends up being 3 in the morning. Sleep now.” He pushes back, determined to win this.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Not yet!”

“Go sleep!”

“Why don’t you go sleep?”

“Because I’ll sleep better knowing you’re sleeping well too, baby.”

That makes you even more flustered. Knowing he cares, even if its about your horrid sleep schedule. “Fine. I’ll sleep.”

“Good. I love you so much, I’ll see you soon, baby.”

“Goodnight, Clark.”

“Goodnight, love.”

Arriving at what was supposed to be a small get together at a club downtown, was infact not “small.” Music boomed from inside, and it seemed like hell on Earth for introverts. Everyone was all over eachother, crowds jumping and dancing.

Looking up at Clark, who seemed perfectly fine, not concerned at all, you feel a bit small. You’ve never been to these kinds of places, nonetheless enjoyed big gatherings in loud places. It seemed a bit much, but you didn’t want to ruin his night, if it meant that yours would be much better not being here.

He rests a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you in. The warmth from his palm seeps into your senses, momentarily making you forget about the dread settling deep into your stomach. For just a moment, it’s you and Clark.

The next moment, it’s you, Clark, and the crowds that are shoving and pushing against eachother to the loud music in such a small space. He seems to notice your discomfort, pressing his hand a bit harder into your skin, trying to ground you.

It’s hard to focus, bright shining lights flashing in your face, the smell of bitter alcohol and God knows what else. The floor is a bit wet, and you’re not sure if you really want to find out what liquid it is. It’s not the kind of place you’d call stress relieving. Praying that everything will be over quickly, you rush through with Clark right next to you.

There’s a rather big booth a bit further into the club, where things get a bit quiet and there’s the older men that sit solemnly at the bars, nursing whiskeys and cigarettes. Couples paw at eachother in other booths, but at least there’s not much noise as before.

Clark is still guiding you through, bringing you towards what has been making the dread pool so heavily in you. Interaction. With people you’ve never properly met before. A few guys stand up, patting Clark’s back and greeting him. You can’t lie you get a bit jealous when you see the pretty girls with dresses that barely cover anything call out his name.

Though, it makes you feel better when he holds your hand, entertwining your fingers together. “This is my partner.” Saying your name in a way so gentle they barely hear it, yet feel it in their bones. A few of them smile at you, giving polite waves and reaching their hands out for you to shake.

You freeze for a second, unsure of what to do, but with trembling fingers, you take their hands anyway. “It’s nice to meet you.” A small smile lifts Clark’s lips, and he squeezes the hand he still has a hold on. At least he’s happy.

You follow him closely, sitting right next to him in the already cramped booth. It’s cold, but Clark being next to you keeps you warm. Conversation flows easily, but you aren’t included. You give the occasional nod or polite laugh, but there’s not much for you to say. They’re all of the same kind, same backgrounds, same gated neighbourhoods.

And you’re just… there.