buckysthunderbolts - Tumblr blog

buckysthunderbolts · 21 hours ago

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late bloomer

clark kent x fem!reader

summary: After a game of truth or dare, your new boyfriend Clark comes to pick you up and take care of you. You drunkenly confess to the reason why you haven't had sex yet: you're a late bloomer and he is your first boyfriend.

cw: drunk reader, embarrassed and ashamed reader, clark the perfect, understanding bf, slight angst, major fluff, SMUT!! (18+ MINORS DNI!!): penetrative protected sex, oral (f), fingering/masturbating, mentions of toys, size kink, sweet, romantic aftercare

wc: 5.2k+

author's note: here's to my new fic!! i've seen fics where the reader is hella experienced but never where she's had sex before but hasn't done it in so long due to whatever reason or whatever, same goes for inexperienced fics. here's to late bloomers!!! always remember you are on your own timeline and that comparison is the thief of joy xoxo

It starts over a game of truth or dare.

You’re at Cat’s apartment with Lois and a handful of other women you work with at the Daily Planet for a girl’s night. You felt a slight buzz but didn’t want to be a party pooper if you left early. The thought of participating in a game of truth or dare made you queasy.

“We should at least set some ground rules,” you said as everyone settled around the living room.

“Oh, c’mon,” Kelly groaned, “where’s the fun in that?”

You frown, sinking into your spot on the couch. “I think if someone doesn’t want to do the truth or dare, they shouldn’t have to,” you grumbled, “just take a shot instead.”

“I like that idea,” Lois hummed, nodding towards you. You smile appreciatively at her.

Everyone agrees quietly and you take a long sip of your wine when you catch Cat set shot glasses and a handle of tequila on the coffee table in front of you.

Your mind wanders to Clark. You wondered what he was up to. When he asked to come over to your apartment and make dinner for you tonight, you had to regrettably, and politely, decline. You told him about your plans with Cat, Lois, and the others, and promised to call him if you needed him to stop by and pick you up if you got too drunk.

You haven’t been together that long. It’s only been six weeks since your first date, and Clark has been nothing but a perfect, dotting boyfriend. He’s memorized your coffee order and helps you into your jacket when it rains. He walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street and laces his fingers with yours. He keeps an extra sweater at his desk just in case you get cold. His kisses are soft and chaste. He hasn’t even brought up the s-word yet.

You were embarrassed to tell Clark he was your first boyfriend. You could count on one hand, with one finger, how many times you have had sex. It was your freshman year of college with some frat guy that left you empty and hallow afterwards.

Instead of focusing on dating and having boyfriends, you busied yourself with school and then eventually work. You didn’t have the time or energy to go on dates.

And then you met Clark.

You were friends first. You’re the designated copy editor for the International Politics section of the Daily Planet. You’re directly responsible for editing Clark’s, Jimmy’s, and Lois’s articles to make sure they were smooth, accurate, and free of errors.

Clark asked for your assistance more than anyone else on the team. You didn’t realize it until Cat brought it to your attention, and then you brought it up to Clark when you were running through edits late one night when you and Clark were the only ones still at the Planet. You remember it like it was yesterday.

“You know,” you hummed, writing in the margins of Clark’s first draft on the budget proposal by the city council, “Cat told me you ask for my help more than anyone else on the team. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on me.”

You only meant it as a joke. Your friendship was built on light jabs and harmless teasing. He kept you on your toes and made the stress of the workday easier with his warm laughter and infectious smile.

Clark stiffens beside you. You glance at Clark from the corner of your eyes and watch him fix his posture until he’s sitting up straight. His glasses sit at the bridge of his nose and pink flushes his cheeks. You set your pen down in your lap and turn to get a better look at him.

“Did I make you uncomfortable? I only said it to tease you, I’m sorry,” you apologized, embarrassment hitting you square in the chest. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Now Clark will want nothing to do with you, and you ruined a perfectly great friendship, despite your hidden feelings for him.

“No, no!” Clark stammered, reaching to take your hand and gives you a reassured squeeze. “You didn’t. I know you said it to tease me, but what you said is true. I do have feelings for you.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. You turn your body, so you face him. Clark smiles bashfully, scratching the back of his neck before pushing his glasses up his nose. His beautiful dimples poke out from his cheeks.

“What?” you asked in disbelief. “You do?”

Clark laughs quietly and grins at your reaction. “C’mon, Ms. Grammarly. You’re telling me you haven’t noticed how nervous I am when I’m around you?” he teased.

Your head spins at the revelation. “I thought that was just your personality.”

Clark shrugs, “I mean, partially, yes, but it’s mostly because I don’t know how to act when I’m around you. I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to tell you, but you beat me to it.”

You laugh softly and feel the warmth of his stare creep up your neck and across your face. Your knees brush his you feel the heat of Clark’s hands brush your chair, pulling you closer to him. His soft blue eyes find yours and you swallow hard. Your heart settles somewhere between your stomach and your throat.

“If it makes you feel any better,” you whispered, eyes flickering to his mouth, “I’ve been trying to hide my feelings for you.”

An elated smile rips across Clark’s handsome face, and he leans to brush his nose against yours. His warm breath fans across your cheeks. His fingers reach to hold your chin between his fingers before he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

A soft laugh bubbles from your throat, and you nod slowly, “Yes.”

Clark’s soft mouth presses against yours in a slow, romantic kiss. His large hands cradle your face, and a quiet sigh vibrates against your mouth. Butterflies burst in your stomach, and you let Clark lead you through the kiss.

You haven’t been kissed like this. Ever.

Clark kisses you like he wants you, like he adores you. It’s nothing like the kisses you’ve had when you were younger. Those were hungry and hard and made you feel empty afterwards. This kiss is soft, delicate, warm. It’s a kiss you’ve read about in all the books you’ve read. It’s a kiss you could only dream of having.

Your fingers grasp at his tie and feel the hard ridges of Clark’s chest as you kissed in the dim light of the bullpen before pulling away. He pulls away and his striking blue eyes find yours. His cheeks are flushed, and his pupils are blown. His warm breath mingles with yours.

“Whoa,” you can’t help but say as you catch your breath.

Clark grins and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Is that a good whoa or a bad whoa?”

You laugh and your eyes crinkle as you look at him with a grin. “Good! Great, even. I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

Clark’s tender laughter fills the silence of the Daily Planet before he mumbles against your skin, “Let’s do it again.”

Since that moment you kissed at the Daily Planet and started dating shortly after, all you thought about was telling Clark how inexperienced you actually were when it came to sex. Sure, you had ideas on what you thought you liked from reading books, watching shows and movies, and even using toys, but it wasn’t the same. You haven’t experimented and you were too shy and embarrassed to tell Clark you’ve only had sex with one person. It’s one of the reasons why you haven’t had sex with Clark yet. You don’t want to face the embarrassment of telling your new boyfriend that you’re a late bloomer and don’t know what it’s like to actually enjoy sex.

You’re broken out of your thoughts with your friends yelling your name and a gentle shove from Cat. You blink back to reality and ignore the pit in your stomach.

“It’s your turn,” Kelly said, “truth or dare?”

Your mind races and you avoid the concerned expression on Cat’s face. “Uh… truth.”

Kelly smirks, leaning on her elbows as she looks at you. “What’s your sex life like with Clark?”

Your eyes widen at the question, and your jaw drops in surprised. Heat spreads across your body and pricks at your skin. You rather drop dead than tell your friends you haven’t had sex yet with Clark. You’re too embarrassed to admit your sex life is nonexistent.

You swallow hard and reach for a shot glass and the handle of tequila on the coffee table. Your friends groan as they watch you pour a shot.

“C’mon…” Theresa groaned, “you can’t share one itty bitty detail?”

One itty bitty detail that doesn’t exist because you’re too ashamed to admit you’re a late bloomer and don’t even know what you like? Yeah right.

Instead, you say, with a teasing lilt in your voice, “I don’t kiss and tell,” you hummed, knocking the liquor to the back of your throat.

It’s like that for a while whenever it’s your turn to go during the course of the game. With each question, you get drunker and drunker with each shot you take.

Is Clark dominate or submissive in bed?

Take a shot.

Have you done any role playing, and if so, what have you done?

Take a shot.

What’s your favorite sex position with Clark?

Take a shot.

Have you had sex at the Daily Planet?

That was an easy question to answer. “No,” you slurred drunkenly, sinking into the couch and leaning against Cat as she types away furiously on her phone. Little did you know she was texting Clark to come pick you up.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Cat says, setting her phone beside here. “Miss Drunk Skunk over here is officially cut off and out of the game. Please ask invasive questions to somebody else.”

The group of women who’d been asking you the questions groaned, and Lois thrusted a glass of water into your hand. You take slow, methodical sips, your body buzzing from all the alcohol you’ve drank. You zone out of the conversations surrounding you and focus on drinking your water and calming your breaths. All you want is Clark to come and take care of you. You know he would be good at it.

After a while, you hear the doorbell to Cat’s apartment ring, and she hurries off the couch to the front door. You’re too distracted by the noise around you to notice Clark enter. You feel the couch dip beside you, and you turn to look, meeting the soft blue of Clark’s eyes.

“Clark!” you exclaimed in surprise, his name slurred on your tongue. “You’re here! I missed you.”

Clark smiles sweetly at you and brushes hair out of your face. The rough skin of his thumbs caresses the smooth skin on your cheeks. “I missed you too, sweetheart. I’m here to take you home, Miss Drunkie,” Clark teased, kissing your forehead.

“Heeeeey,” you whined, weakly shoving at his chest, “that’s not nice.”

“’m sorry,” he apologized quietly against the shell of your ear as he stood in front of you, “’m only teasing. Cat texted and said you need help to get home.”

“That’s nice of her.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement before helping you to your feet. You sway slightly and Clark wraps a warm, solid arm around your waist to keep you from falling. You turn your head towards his chest and your nose brushes against his shirt. Breathing in deeply, you smell the crisp clean air and warm soft musk on Clark’s shirt.

God, did he smell good.

Clark says your goodbyes for you and guides you out of Cat’s apartment, through the elevator, and out the building to his car. He unlocks the passenger side door and carefully settles you into the seat. He kisses the crown of your head before shutting the door and making his way to the driver’s side door.

The car starts and you feel Clark’s warm, gentle hand on your thigh. It sends a jolt up your spine and settles in the pit of your stomach. He squeezes gently.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Clark commands quietly with his eyes on the road as drives towards your apartment.

You hum softly and take the hand on your thigh and wrap your hand in his, resting it on your lap. Clark squeezes your hand this time and his thumb brushes the back of your hand.

“Did you at least have fun?” he asked to keep you awake and get you talking.

Your brows pinch together and a small frown forms on your lips. Your fingers toy with his and you can’t help the drunken hiccup that breaks through. “For a little bit,” you muttered, frowning into your lap, “until we started playing truth or dare. They kept asking me questions I didn’t want to answer so I had to take a shot for every question I didn’t answer.”

Clark laughs quietly, stealing a quick glance at your adorable, drunken pout as he drove. “Yeah? What kind of questions did they ask you?”

Your face flushes at both the question and the reminder of what your friends asked you. Your frown deepens. “’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, baby, you know you can tell me anything, right?” he asked you as he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment building. “I’ll never judge you or make you feel embarrassed about it.”

You turn to face him as he parks, and you hold out your pinky to him. “You promise?”

Clark grins and wraps his own pinky around yours before kissing the finger softly and letting it go. “I promise.”

Clark watches you square your shoulders and swallow hard. Your eyes are red and glassy from the alcohol, but they’re wide and earnest. You let out a careful breath.

“They were asking questions about our sex life,” you confessed quietly. “And obviously I couldn’t answer them because one that’s disrespectful of you and our relationship and I won’t kiss and tell, and two, because we haven’t done anything besides kissing.”

Clark’s cheeks redden at your words, and the tips of his ears turn pink. You’re too embarrassed to stop now, so the words spill out of you, and you can’t stop.

“And I know it’s my fault,” you rambled with shaky hands. “I’ve been too shy and embarrassed to tell you just how inexperienced I am. I’ve only had sex once and that was in college. I did it with someone I barely knew, and I hated how empty and hollow I felt afterwards. I focused on school and work and went on a few dates that weren’t serious. I didn’t want to freak you out by telling you that I’m a late bloomer and that you’re my first boyfriend. I didn’t want you to think I was a prude or anything since we haven’t had sex yet and now I’m drunk and didn’t have the balls to tell you all of this sober. I just thought you should know.”

Your confession hangs in the space between you. Your heart beats outside of your chest. The weight lifts off your shoulders, but the shame and embarrassment digs into your stomach. Pathetic tears spill over cheeks. You swallow hard and catch your breath, turning to look away from Clark, when he gently reaches across and holds your chin.

“Hey,” he murmured gently, brushing away your tears, “you have nothing to be embarrassed about. It doesn’t bother me. At all. I’m sorry you thought that telling me I’m your first boyfriend would freak me out. You shouldn’t ever be embarrassed to tell me things. Ever.”

“But—”

“Nope,” Clark gently interrupts you, holding the side of your neck. The warmth of his fingers presses into your skin. “Experience is not a prerequisite for a relationship. It means absolutely nothing to me. Whoever made you feel that way can kick rocks.”

You laugh quietly and lean into Clark’s tender touch. He brushes the last of your tears away and your hand rests against his broad chest. Your fingers squeeze the fabric of his shirt, and you pull him towards you. You kiss gently before Clark presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get you inside,” he hummed, opening the door and getting out of his car.

Clark opens the door for you and takes your purse and swings it on to his shoulder before lacing his hand with yours. You walk quietly through the apartment complex before you stop in front of your door. You watch Clark take your keys out and unlock the door. He guides you inside and locks the door behind him.

You stumble through the foyer and Clark races to catch you before you fall. His hands squeeze your waist as he pulls you up. You giggle drunkenly and Clark laughs into your ear.

“Careful,” he smirked against your hair. The deep timbre of his voice makes you shiver.

He takes you by the hand again and walks the two of you into your bedroom. The light flickers and you sit down on the bed. You watch Clark move around your room, grabbing an old shirt and pajama shorts for you to change into.

He kisses your forehead and says, “Change into these pajamas while I get you some water and Tylenol.”

You hum and watch him disappear out of your bedroom and into your kitchen. You move sluggishly as you change into more comfortable clothes. You listen as Clark opens cabinets and turns on the faucet. He returns to you and with a delicate, heartwarming smile, hands you the glass and pills. You thank him quietly and take the medicine before standing.

“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” he teased.

“Must brush teeth and wash face,” you answered drunkenly. “Have to do bedtime routine.”

Clark laughs and watches you make your way into the bathroom. You wash your face and brush your teeth quickly when Clark steps in beside you. You move over and watch him do his own nighttime routine. You stare unapologetically at his bare, muscular chest as he washes his face and brushes his teeth.

He catches you staring and grins slyly at you before looping his arms around you. Clark nestles his face into your throat. “It’s not polite to stare, y’know,” he hummed, nibbling at your skin.

You giggle at the sensation and shrug. “Can’t help it. It’s not my fault you’re so pretty, Clark.”

He laughs and kisses along your throat and jaw. “Let’s go to bed, baby.”

Clark tugs you out of the bathroom and shuts all the lights off before helping you into bed. He climbs into bed and pulls you flush against his chest. You press a linger kiss to his chest before falling asleep in Clark’s arms.

…

You’re lighter now that Clark knows everything. The shame and embarrassment disappear, and Clark makes you feel safe and secure in your relationship despite your lack of experience. He adores you and doesn’t judge you. This is the happiest you’ve ever been with someone.

You giggle into his mouth as he fumbles with your keys after a date. You’re warm from the glass of wine you drank from dinner and Clark’s touch makes your skin sizzle. Clark’s teeth kiss your lips and you nearly tumble to the floor when the door to your apartment is pushed open. Clark laughs and catches you by the waist.

He closes the door and locks it behind you before reaching for you again. You kiss fervently as you kick off your shoes and shrug off your coats. Clark’s hands grip the back of your thighs and lifts you into his arms without breaking the kiss. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue slips into your mouth.

The ache between your thighs grows with each second. You hold Clark’s face between your hands as you kiss, and you pull a part briefly to look him in the eyes. His face is flushed, and your chests press against each other.

You brush a loose curl out of his face and whisper, “Bedroom. Now.”

Clark’s blue eyes are blown as he catches his breath. “Are you sure?”

You nod eagerly and press a soft kiss to his lips, “Yes.”

He grins and his mouth finds yours again before he walks the two of you into your room. Clark lays you down on the bed towards the headboard. You wrap your arms around his neck and hook your legs around his waist.

Clark hovers over you, kissing you like you’ve got all the time in the world. They’re slow and deep. It makes your toes curl, and your fingers tug at the curls on the base of his neck.

“Wanna take care of you, sweetheart,” he whispered hotly against your skin. “Wanna show you just how much you mean t’me. Can I, baby?”

You nod, too hot and overwhelmed to speak. Clark bites against your throat and you moan.

“Hmm, as much as I like that reaction, I need words. Tell me.”

“Yes! Yes!” you babbled.

He grins against your throat, “There we go,” Clark nipped again, “you tell me if you need to stop,” another nip, “I’ve thought about this for so long.”

You melt under his touch and hug him against you, “Me too,” you whispered, twirling his hair between your fingers.

“Yeah? What’ve you thought about?” Clark asked, his hands settling on your waist, bunching the fabric of your dress up on your hips. He helps you sit up, dragging the dress up your stomach and up your arms until you’re left in just your bra and underwear. You shiver under the intensity of his stare and swallow hard.

“You going down on me,” you answered with hot, prickly skin as you watch Clark drink your nearly bare skin. “I’ve read it in a lot of books.”

Clark grins smugly at you, his fingers brushing against your bare belly before skimming against the edge of your panties. “Yeah? Anything else?”

You arch into his touch, and your fingers squeeze Clark’s upper arm in anticipation. You nod again, swallowing hard. “When I masturbate or use my vibrator,” Clark groans into your chest, “I think about you doing it instead… using your fingers.”

Clark’s hand slips underneath your bra and his fingers toy with your nipple. You shake beneath him, rocking your hips into his growing erection. Your hands paw at the hem of his shirt and your drag it up and off his chest. You feel the hard curves and ridges of his broad and muscular body.

Clark’s mouth trails kiss down your chest, past your sternum, nibbling at your naval, before looking up at you from between your legs. His hands slowly tug your underwear down your hips before you kick them off. Clark spreads your knees a part and pulls your legs over his shoulders.

“Gosh, sweetheart,” he hummed, kissing up your thighs, “you’re soaked, and I’ve barely touched you.”

Through hooded eyes, your eyes find his as Clark buries himself between your legs. You gasp loudly and tug on his hair harshly as Clark sucks on your clit. You throw your head back against the pillows beneath you as you lose yourself to the sensation of Clark’s tongue against your weeping hole.

Your hands grip the back of Clark’s hair harshly and his groans vibrate up your spine. His hands hook underneath your thighs as he laps your juices up with his tongue and pulls you even closer to him. You gasp again and Clark looks at you from between your legs and you take one of his hands and gently rest it against your throat.

With your hand on top, you squeeze his hand, silently begging him to just squeeze softly. You whine at the warm sensation building in your belly as Clark moved his mouth between your folds and throbbing clit. With the hand not wrapped around your throat, he slips a finger inside you.

You jolt against his face. “Clark!” you cried, arching against the bed as the pressure built between your legs. “I’m close!”

The bastard smirks at you and hooks another finger inside you as he brough you closer towards your orgasm. Stimulating your clit with his tongue, you cum with a sob and collapse in the bed.

You’re gasping for air as Clark works you through your orgasm before crawling up your body and pressing his mouth against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you taste yourself against his mouth.

You kiss slow and deliberately as you catch your breath. Clark pulls away to look at you and grins at your glazed eyes and fucked out expression. He kisses the side of your mouth.

“You still with me, baby?” Clark asked against your cheek.

You nod profusely and turn your head to kiss him again. “Yeah, yeah.”

Clark hooks a hand behind your back and undoes the clasp of your bra. You shrug it off and stare at him.

“Holy Moly,” Clark gasped in awe, brushing his fingers down your hot, bare skin, “you’re so beautiful like this.”

You laugh quietly and reach for his hips, “And you’re overdressed,” you teased, quickly working his belt loose before unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down. Clark shimmies out of his pants and underwear. You feel the weight of his erection against your thigh and gasp against his mouth as you kiss again.

“Condoms in drawer,” you mumbled into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back.

“Since when do you have condoms?” Clark joked, biting your lip before leaning over the nightstand and pulling out a condom from the drawer.

“Since our conversation in your car,” you answered with wide eyes as you watched Clark tear open the condom with his teeth.

He leans back on his heels, and you watch Clark tease the head of his cock before shuddering as he tries to put the condom on. You gently grab his wrist, your eyes meeting his. “May I?” you asked quietly, reaching for the condom.

“Y-Yeah,” Clark stammered as he passed the condom over to you.

You let out a careful breath and reaching for him. Clark groans your name quietly and precum leaks from the tip as you slide the condom over his cock. He’s long and thick and your legs shake at the thought of him inside you. You grasp him between your fingers, and your thumb teases the head.

Clark presses his mouth against yours and he tongue slips into your mouth as he pushes you down into the mattress. His hand wraps around yours and you tug once, twice, before Clark bats your hand away. He takes ahold of himself and gathers the slick between your legs at the head of his cock before slowly pushing himself inside you.

You gasp at the burning sensation between your legs. Your fingers scratch his shoulder and slide down his back. You kiss deeply and Clark hooks one of your legs around his waist to get a better angle. Clark moves slowly and he hides his face into your neck, kissing and biting at your throat.

“You’re so warm, sweetheart,” he gasped into your ear, rocking further into you, “’s like you were made for me. Makin’ me feel so good.”

Your fingers squeeze his hand hard, and you arch your back against the bed and wince as Clark bottoms out inside you, his pelvis flush against yours. He’s snug, tight, and hot inside you. It feels like he’s tearing you open, and he’s barely moved. You feel impossibly full with him settled inside you.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispered into your mouth, his fingers brushing down your sides as you adjust. You nod quietly and follow Clark’s breaths until the burning between your legs subsides.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, brushing curls out of his face so you can get a better look at him, “you can move.”

Clark rocks back and then pushes into you again. You whine and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you. His hands squeeze your ass, and Clark pulls you up and into his lap. With you on top, you roll your hips with every thrust. It’s slow and deliberate, like you have all the time in the world.

You sigh and moan into Clark’s mouth. The pressure from before settles in between your legs as Clark brings you closer to your orgasm. The headboard hits the wall with each thrust, and you shriek when Clark presses his finger against your clit.

You cling to Clark and the sound of his grunts and groans fill your ears and takes root in your chest as he helps you to your release and chases him own.

“Clark!” you cried, hiding in his neck, “I need—”

“Let go, baby,” Clark murmurs, pressing his finger against your clit again, “I’m right behind you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see stars behind your eyes as your orgasm washes over you. Clark fucks you through your release before nestling inside of you. He bites the nape of your neck and cums with a groan of your name. He kisses you through his orgasm and you cling to Clark as you slowly come down from the high of your orgasm.

Clark kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your throat tenderly. You wince and Clark grunts as he slips out of you and lays beside you on the bed.

“You okay?” Clark asked, carefully pulling the condom off and tying it before throwing it in the trash. His fingers brush up and down your arm, feeling the goosebumps on your skin.

You smile softly as you catch your breath, turning your head to look at Clark’s flushed cheeks and sweaty skin. “’m perfect,” you sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “You spoiled me.”

Clark laughs quietly and sits up, “Good. Now it’s time for you to go to the bathroom, don’t want you to get a UTI.”

You laugh and watch Clark hurry into your bathroom. The sink runs and Clark returns with a damp wash cloth. He carefully wipes the slick and juices spilling from your legs and down your thighs. You wince from the stimulation and Clark kisses your forehead.

“Sorry, baby, know you’re sensitive,” he apologized, wiping you clean.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled.

Clark tosses the rag into the dirty clothes bin and helps you to your feet. You take a step on shaky legs and nearly fall to your knees. Clark catches you and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your throat. Clark smirks and helps you into the bathroom.

“Get that smug smirk off your face,” you laughed, shoving him in the chest.

“No way,” Clark retorted, “I took care of you so well you turned into Bambi!”

You roll your eyes and fight the smile threatening to form on your cheeks. “At least I know you’ll take care of me when that happens.”

Clark takes your face between his hands, and he kisses you slowly before whispering, “Always, my sweet Bambi.”

#tzr

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buckysthunderbolts · 1 day ago