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frivolousimagination · 22 hours ago

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you called it romantic?

manhandled… gently? | clark k.

summary: if you (I) want clark kent's full attention, and if you (I) want him to just completely lose himself in touching you (me), you (I) should just say so. like it wouldn't kill you (you) to just admit you (you) wanna be manhandled by him…. or like, clark just wants to show you he loves you

word count: ~4.9k

warnings: making out, minors dni, soft dom!clark (?), def edging y'all bc this implies smut

notes: i am so nervous about this for whatever reason lmao

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God, you love Clark Kent. For silly things like his quiet mutters of gosh, golly, gee. For the widely impactful things such as the deep, genuine love he felt for the Earth and its inhabitants. And for the personal things too, like the mindfulness put into each of his touches in an effort to make them as gentle as possible. You trusted him wholeheartedly, in everything he did.

Porcelain. That’s how it made you feel. The way the tips of his fingers would ghost over your skin, mapping out every possible inch of you. Never much pressure beneath his touch, he couldn’t risk it. What if you’d shatter into a thousand pieces? Even if just one wrong move was made? He’d sweep up the pieces if it came to that.

Clark did his best to brush it off on his gentle nature, which worked as an excuse for the first few months. But then you started to see it. Even in the seemingly smallest of interactions.

He would do anything for you. He’d spend the day fighting bad guys, lifting fallen buildings, saving squirrels from the ground, and saving cats from trees. And yet, when he got home to you, he was at your service. His powers were great for saving the world, but they also helped him to pamper you.

Even right now, the two of you are walking back to your place from a movie. Clark's hands found your waist and in a quick, careful motion he had you lifted and sat on a bench. Lifting you, casually moving your entire body as if it were nothing. You hadn’t even had the chance to process when he pointed out that your shoe was coming untied before he had you sat and himself knelt to the ground as he took care of the problem.

Part of the truth very well could be his knee jerk reaction of kindness, but you knew that he reveled in the way your body reacted to his touch. Breath hitched, cheeks burning, and your hands gripping the edge of the bench for emotional stability if not physical.

Clark’s focus on his task was unmatched. His brows were knitted together, eyes scanning up your leg as his fingers tied off the laces of your shoe. How could he peel his eyes away? You were the light of his life. His yellow sun, so he said when he was truly down bad. Which… when wasn’t he anymore?

Clark relished these moments with you. Something small to hold onto when so many big things were happening all around. You are a focus point for him.

His hand cupped the back of your ankle, lifting your other foot into place to fix that lace too, just in case. He was always fussing over you, always would. Or he hoped so.

When finished, he tapped the top of your shoe before taking hold of your hand as he stood. “Can’t have you tripping for anything but me.” His lips placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

The line was cheesy, and only made partial sense, but it was very Clark. It brought a smile to your face, so he got what he wanted from it. He’d do much worse, say much more embarrassingly cheesy lines, if it meant you’d smile like that at him again. He had done much worse before. Pa had taught him plenty of puns and dad jokes over time.

Clark took hold of both of your hands, putting them onto his shoulders before finding your waist again. Your hands knew what was to come, gently holding onto him for support. And again, without thought, he lifts you up to swirl you back to the ground.

His heart swells with joy as a laugh escapes your lips. His eyes watch yours shut as you press your foreheads together, seeking stability but also just seeking connection. It was another moment where he was reminded of his need for you. Another reminder that you are his sun, that he couldn’t do anything in that cape (that was currently tossed over a chair at your apartment) if he didn’t have these moments with you.

Wanting it to last for even just a second more, Clark takes one step over to turn, twirling you in a complete circle as he watches the way your eyelids crinkled shut. The feeling of weightlessness sent a tingling sensation all through you, pulling another quiet laugh from your lips. He needed the sound etched into vinyl. He needed a picture of how you looked right now stuffed into his wallet. He definitely already had the fact that you loved when he picked you up filed away in his file cabinet memories all about you.

When your feet hit the ground your hands slid down his shoulders, leaning forward and pressing your chest to his to keep yourself from stumbling. Clark ducked his head down, keeping your foreheads close within that gap between your height. His hands moved off your hips, up to your ribs where he made certain that you were stable on the ground. It made the butterflies in your stomach return. He always managed to do that.

Your eyes opened into his, and you should’ve known that he’d be looking at you like that. He lived for these small times, constantly seeking something to hold on to. So did you. A hunger deep in your stomach wanting to hold onto him for forever.

“All that for a loose shoelace?” You joke, bumping noses.

He hums, eyes flickering to your lips before giving you a soft kiss. “Imagine how much I would’ve done for a completely undone lace.”

This elicits another laugh from you, in which Clark’s palm presses against your ribcage so he can feel the moment too. It’s like it finally clicks into place for you. How much these things meant to him. He not just wants you, he needs you.

It’s why these things came so easily to him. It’s why he noticed your lace loosening, and wasted no time fixing it for you. Why he gave you that extra twirl, and why his eyes were already looking over you even when yours were shut. You are in love with Clark Kent, and this you knew easily. What came now was… Clark Kent is in love with you. Truly, madly, deeply.

Thank god he was holding onto you, otherwise your knees might’ve given out right then and there. You hadn’t felt yourself smile like this since… well, just earlier in the day because Clark had been drowning you in compliments about how good you looked in his Metropolis Meteors cap. But, the point is, you felt absolutely, positively incandescent.

“What’s on your mind?” Clark asks softly, hands gently tugging your sweatshirt back into place. Seems it had lifted up when he held you.

You can’t seem to wipe your smile. “You.”

“Me?” He asks with a chuckle. Whether he noticed or not, his cheeks had a slight tint of pink over them.

When Clark asked what was on your mind it was because of the look on your face. Eyes sparkling, like you’d caught a glimpse of the aurora borealis for the first time. Like you were caught up in some fantasy that left you feeling ecstatic, or adventure driven. And it was because of him? He felt honored in some sense.

“Mhm,” you hum, reaching up on your tiptoes to give him a slow, soft kiss. “I was thinking about how sweet you are. How you always know exactly what to do to drive me wild.”

His eyes were shut as he returned the kiss, halfway opening as you pulled back to talk. He didn’t want it to end. “Drive you wild? Sweetheart, your shoe was coming undone, of course I tied it for you.”

Yes, of course. Because he was always taking care of you.

“But the twirling me around?” You ask, grinning at him knowingly.

He chuckles, eyes peeling away from your lips. He’d been caught. “It’s just… it’s so easy for me to pick you up, honey.”

Don’t you know it.

Your hand is on the back of his neck, bringing him down for another kiss. Call it a thank you. “Uh huh.”

He happily goes along, giving you a quick kiss before explaining himself more. “And you always smile when I do it.”

“Right.” Another kiss.

“You do!” He laughs as you catch his top lip in another kiss.

“I agreed,” you point out. “But I do think there is more to it than that.”

He quirks up at that. Your lips connect for another quick kiss. “What are you suggesting?”

Your chest puffs with a laugh, smiling sweetly up at him. His curls hand managed to start looping around your fingers, even as short as they were. He knew exactly what you meant.

Clark loved the way that you fit so easily into his hands. He loved that you not only didn’t mind being lifted, or spun, or flown, or just held up in his arms, but you loved it too. You loved being his.

He feigns offense, one hand leaving you to push back his glasses that had fallen to the tip of his nose. “What could you possibly be suggesting?”

“That you like it just as much as me.” Which went unsaid. He’d already confirmed that, trying to brush it off on the fact that he did it solely for you. “And that we like it for the same reason.”

This was different, though. The same reason? Clark hadn’t really thought that possible, considering his point of view. Clark knows he is a simple man. Easy trusting, easy to fall in love, and easy to adore others. Not that you were a cynic, but that he is softer than any typical person.

“Okay,” he grins. “Let's hear your reason, then.”

Clark is extremely attentive, more so than any other person you had ever been with. Of course, none of those relationships had worked out for one reason or another, but he was so wildly different. He didn’t do any of what he did just because he was your boyfriend, he did it because he wanted to. Because he knew you loved that movie and wanted to go see it a third time, because he knew you loved when he held you like that, because he knew you’d laugh at his stupid jokes, because he knew you. And you know that, because you know him.

The thought put you in seventh heaven. You could trust Clark, entirely. There was never a moment of questioning, never a time to second guess any of his words or actions. He is a loving man. He showed you this daily.

Your heart skipped, not nervous but excited. “I love it because I trust you.”

Cute. It made him smile. Such a simple admission, and certainly one that Clark would carry with him for the next several years of his life. He thought that was all.

Your continuation caught him off guard. That, and the way you inched closer to whisper in his ear again. “I love it because I would let you do absolutely anything to me, Clark Kent.” A kiss is left on his throat. “Because you are so careful, so intentional, that it makes my heart run a marathon even when all you do is hold my hand, or brush my hair from my face. And because you do it all as if it is second nature to you.”

“Because it is.” He says it like it’s easy.

What wasn’t so easy was feeling your lips on his neck, even just from one kiss. And the way your breath had ghosted over him in a whisper had him shifting his weight on his feet. If you weren’t still on the walk to your place, he would’ve done much more to act. Then again, so would’ve you.

Clark cups your cheek instead, an action appropriate for the public. “Because I love you.”

You were beaming again. It was funny how intertwined you were with one another. Was this the time for him too? Where he realized what it all was? If it wasn’t his moment of realization, it was at least where he said it to you for the first time.

“I love you too.” It’s easy to say. Probably the easiest thing you’ve ever said.

The shared sincerity felt warming. Smiles mirrored across one another, finding each other in complete bliss of the moment. He was down again, kissing your lips with a much, much slower pace and patience than before.

His lips were warm, as always. And your lips were soft as ever, a hint of your chapstick still lingering. You both tasted the popcorn you’d just finished off at the theater, giving a dash of saltiness to the sweetness of the kiss. Clark was getting lost, his tongue peaking out just slightly to meet you in another kiss.

His hands left your cheeks, going to your waist again. In his mind, there was no thought as he lifted you up into his arms, his palms flat against your back to hold you with stability. In your mind, your heart was running wild over the fact that he held you so carefully to keep you so close.

His throat rumbles, a low groan escaping him with no remorse. It felt good. Holding you, your lips kissing again and again, but it was never enough. Especially not with your confessions. He just needed to show his appreciation.

When you feel your feet dangling, meaning he was really holding you up again, you hummed against his lips. “Clark.”

He continued his work, giving a lazy response. “Yeah?”

You halfheartedly attempt to pull back, “Public.” His tongue brushes against yours. “We’re in public.”

Clark hums, “Mhm.” A small, small part of him couldn’t be bothered to care.

You give in to one more lingering kiss before gently holding his face between your thumb and two fingers, physically stopping him from coming in for any more. He grumbles at this, frowning and opening his eyes halfway to express disapproval. How dare anything stop this moment?

“Okay,” he sighs, eyes stuck on your lips. He smiled to himself as he saw the way they hardly had any chapstick left, and how they had begun to puff up from every kiss. He had done that. “Okay. Your place is only two blocks away.”

It was like he was trying to reason with himself. Only two blocks. All he had to do was make it there, and then you’d be his. Entirely.

When his eyes met yours, your breath hitched. That same hunger that lived in the pit of your stomach was in him right now. You saw it burning within his eyes, turning a dark blue that always filled you with excitement.

“You inviting yourself to spend the night?” You tease, fingers pressing softly into his dimples as you hold him.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist, removing your hand from its hold. He wanted zero obstacles in his way. It was now, too, that you remembered he could’ve done that the second you grabbed on. He liked being held by you.

“You don’t want me over?” He kisses your wrist, eyes glimmering beneath the glowing streetlamp. He wouldn’t go if you said the word, but he knew.

“‘Course I do,” you chuckle. You’d said it much quicker than intended, showing off your equal amount of desperation.

“Great.” Equally speedy response, he lets it boost his ego.

With another quick kiss, Clark adjusts his grip around your waist and makes a quick motion to swing you into his arms bridle style. You take in a cold, sharp breath at his actions. The way he just swooped you up without having a single thought put into it, just wanting to get to your place as soon as he could. You could swoon, if he’d let you.

It was rare to see a deep, nearly intoxicated desire on Clark. He is typically so careful. So soft spoken, giving only the most gentle of grazing touches. His eyes typically gave a look that said he was filled with admiration, a need to worship and show you just how important you are.

Right now they said that he was desperate to soak you into his very being, to touch every part of you and show you what those words meant to him. I love you.

Your cheeks were growing warm, a slightly welcome sensation in contrast to the cooling night air. Although flustered, you didn’t hesitate either. Arms looping around his neck to hold on– as if he would ever drop you anyway. At least it was an excuse to touch him.

“I’m going to hold you to what you said, by the way.” Clark remarks, taking large strides in his step. He wasn’t even looking at you with his smile this time, too caught up in his mind that was racing with all the ideas of how to spend the night. How to show you how he truly felt.

If he could get away with it he would’ve flown you to the apartment in a blink. He just wanted to be alone with you. His sense of urgency on the situation was striking. You liked seeing this side of him from time to time. Like he was starved.

“What I said?” You finally question. You were too caught up in him to know what he could’ve meant.

“Yeah,” he looks at you now. Desirous, eager, sure. His words roll out like they’re lightweight, “That you’d let me do absolutely anything to you.”

Hearing your own words used against you didn’t typically feel so fulfilling or thrilling. But, God, he knew how to get you. And forget the burning in your cheeks, you felt it through your entire body.

Clark said it so comfortably. There was no threat, or reason for concern. Because, just like you had said before, you trust him.

You murmur, a teasing air. “You better.”

This successfully encourages him. You tried not to let your imagination get too carried away just yet, not entirely sure what ‘absolutely anything’ meant to him versus what it meant to you. All you knew was that you needed to find out.

At some point you’d made it to your apartment building, thankfully. Approaching the front door, Clark puts you down again though his arm keeps you wrapped close to him. He knew exactly what he wanted. Exactly what he’d do once you were up and shut out from the rest of the world.

“I wanna do it all tonight.” Clark says quietly, suddenly.

You watched the elevator doors slide shut in a rough, aged stagger. “That’s ambitious. We got enough time for your plans?”

What the hell did all mean?

Clark laughs lightly by your side, his hand slipping beneath the back of your hoodie. “I mean… I want to do it all. I want you to… relax.”

This throws you back, catching on to his meaning now. When you look up at him you, unsurprisingly, see his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. The flame in the pit of your stomach flickered just slightly, finding him too cute.

Play dumb, mess with him. “What’d you mean? Are you gonna do my chores for me or something? I’ll happily oblige.”

He was too easy to tease. Yes, he still had that burning desire, but it looks so different on Clark. He was adjusting his stance, his fingers gently pinching you beneath the fabric. “No… but, I can do your dishes before I go since I dirtied them at lunch earlier.”

“You don’t have to do my dishes, Clark.” You nudge his side.

“But I will.” You knew he would.

Jesus, could the elevator be any slower? You were really hating living in a ‘historic’ building at the moment. Historic was generous to begin with, but it was home.

He stops himself from rocking on his heels any more and leans close to your ear. His intention was to be quiet, even though no one was around to hear anyway. But it came across much differently.

“I mean that I–” his voice catches. You knew he was still blushing. His throat clears, “I want you to let me thank you for earlier. Or, to let me show you what it meant to me.”

The confession, he meant. The first verbal exchange of I love you.

His fingertips trace lightly up your spine. He was trying something new, this teasing in any place but the bedroom. For once in his life, he truly felt like he could do anything. You did that for him.

“I want you to sit back tonight,” he continued, kissing below your ear. “All night. I want to be the one exerting all my energy for you.”

Your own breath was catching now. “You’re Superman, your energy doesn’t really run out the same.”

You don’t expect it. His fingers gently pinch your side, “So it’ll be a long night.”

The elevator does that small bounce it always does, signaling you have reached your destination. You couldn’t be more relieved. Clark is somehow the first to step out, your own eagerness apparently not quite matching his.

Fumbling around with your keys, you desperately search for the one to unlock that damn door. Clark smiles proudly to himself, somewhat relieved that the unfamiliar exercise had positively affected you. A small part of him felt foolish for even saying it, he wasn’t typically the type to be so forward. Well, forward for him.

Why not take it a step forward?

“Let me,” Clark’s voice is hushed.

One hand rests on your’s, turning it over so he can take the keychain and help save you from any more cloudy-minded fumbling. He wasn’t helping your case, but he was certainly helping his own. Just a small act, a small touch, a small bit of connection.

He somehow manages to find the correct key and unlock the door with a completely steady hand. His nerves seemed much more relaxed than he expected. He assigned that reasoning to his anticipation of you.

His lips were on yours again the second you both walked in, Clark backing you up towards the door so it could be shut. As it clicked into place you were doing your best to kick off your shoes. He was reaching behind you to slide the lock into place.

Your hands go to the edge of your shirt, ready to tug it off. He’s quick to catch you, pulling back from the kiss and looking down at you in complete confusion. His hands hold yours in place without effort.

“Huh uh,” is all he manages at first. His tongue darts over his bottom lip. “I said I’m doing it all, I’m doing it all.”

You sigh with desperation, watching him fervently. “Can’t even help kick start things?”

“No, baby,” his tone is delicate, and he’s looking at you with that softness that you know he got from Smallville, not Metropolis. “I want to really show you what you mean to me. In every aspect.”

Clark soothes your hesitance with a couple more kisses, tongues meeting in your mouth. The second he frees your hands you drape your arms over his shoulders. This is probably the only way you’d be able to keep yourself from acting on any impulse, keep your hands away entirely.

He keeps up with his motives, lifting you up into his arms again. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist. A deep groan comes from him, feeling you pressed against his waist and giving some much desired friction.

The kisses are becoming more and more thoughtless and messy as he walks you just off to the side, into the kitchen. Screw the bedroom, it was much too far away for his despair. He’d move you both there at some point, maybe for the next round.

Sitting you on the counter, his hands move down along your hips and to the outer sides of your thighs. Your back lacks much support, but it was a regret for tomorrow. You felt too good right now. Running on a high you’d only ever felt with Clark.

His lips found your neck, trailing down further with each kiss left. When he finds the spot he has memorized as if it is a lifeline, his lips linger and gently suck the skin there. He knew every sound that you would make and yet he was always yearning to hear it just once more.

You slowly inhale, head rolled to the side to encourage him. Clark lives for the way your throat vibrates against his skin in an approving moan. Assuring him that he hadn’t forgotten how to make you feel incredible. You got so easily lost in him yet he’d always find you.

Your hands slip to the back of his neck, nails scratching into his hair in the same typical fashion. Used as an outlet for yourself, seeking all the stimulation possible. But it was also a small repayment for him. It drove him mad to feel your touch in any capacity. He wasn’t having it tonight.

Clark pulls away from your neck, “Sweetheart.”

You barely refrain from a pout, feeling it was a little too dramatic. “What?” Though your tone was a bit more crabby than before.

He huffed a laugh, looking at you through half lidded eyes. It wasn’t like you to be… whiny. It was cute. But it was clear he was going to have to become more assertive on his position.

“Hands,” he replies as he peels your hands away from his neck, adjusting to hold both your wrists in one of his hands. “I meant it. The only thing you’re doing is feeling me.”

This returns your smile, watching and enjoying his sternness. Clark Kent has always been a giver. Always. It was just in his nature. But it seemed he was really going to live up to that tonight.

“Just keep putting your trust in me. Take it in. Let me appreciate you as mine.” His free hand returns to your thigh, slowly pulling your leg open to make room for his large frame to come closer.

His waist is pressed to the edge of the counter, leaning forward to put his face just inches from yours. Your chest rises, trying to anticipate his next move but finding your attention stuck on his gentle grip on your wrists, and his light touch along your thigh. He took his time.

Pressing your palms against the cold counter, Clark effectively sends a chill through you. For a second, he applies a light pressure to the back of your hands. Your excitement finds you again.

“Keep your hands right here.” He mutters, eyes on your lips with a readiness to get back to his previous job.

You give a small nod, biting your bottom lip and watching him carefully. Both of his hands moved to your jeans, undoing the button and slowly pulling the zipper down. Your hips move with zero hesitation, knowing what came next.

He pulls your jeans off with simplicity. You take the opportunity to try scooting closer to the edge, testing him every chance you get. It’s without success. He tosses the jeans aside before putting his hands on your hips and pushing you back down onto the countertop, moving you back exactly where you were.

You grip the edge, frustrated that he wouldn’t even let that slide. All is forgiven as his fingers ghost over the bare skin of your thighs. He goes to the hem of your hoodie, nodding his head in motion for you to lift your arms.

Reactively, your arms go above your head and Clark peels the hoodie off your body, tossing it off to the side with your jeans. Fingers tracing over your skin again, like you’re goddamn porcelain. Your hands return to their assigned place.

And all is quickly un-forgiven as his hands settle on your… knees?

“Clark, c’mon.” You whine, head falling back.

“I’m getting there,” he laughs. His hand rests at the crook of your neck, thumb rubbing over your pulse point. “Look at me, honey.”

With a dramatic sigh your head falls forward again. You look at him with a pout, not that it would really help your case. He had goals in mind. Benchmarks to meet.

“Be patient.” He says softly, fingertips trailing down your chest. His other hand’s fingers tap against your knee. “It’s gonna take some time for me to do this right. You’re art to me.”

Art. You don’t take one glance at a painting and move on. No. You take your time, absorbing every possible detail. Looking in awe at the smoothness of a marble carving. Appreciating the time it took to create perfection.

“Okay,” it’s all you can manage to whisper. Your heart was running wild.

“Okay,” he follows suit.

Your eyes follow him downward as he kneels in front of you. He traces down your legs, pressing a warm, lingering kiss on your knee. His hands hook behind each of your knees and he pulls you forward.

So now you were allowed to be at the edge of the counter.

clark kent masterlist

send a request and/or let me know what you think :)

taglist: @aesthetic-lyss @ticklish-leafy-plant

#thank youuuu💞#i just think he is so sweet #clark kent #superman #self reblog

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frivolousimagination · 22 hours ago

Note

Any updates with your wips? 🩷🩷

i haven't gotten to write all week due to work

but this is what i have... in no particular order

clark kent

part 2 of going nowhere: 841 words

midnight rain request: 555 words

how he got the girl request: 723 words

clark getting lost in kissing you request: 29 words (sorry girl😭)

johnny storm

super!reader who can fly, playing cat and mouse in the sky (req): 27 words

super!grimm!reader enemies to lovers (req): 23 words

and then i have other true wips that may never see the light of day

#clark kent #superman #ask #johnny storm #fantastic four first steps #fantastic 4 first steps #fantastic 4 #superman x reader #johnny storm x reader #clark kent x reader

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frivolousimagination · 1 day ago

Note

Please tell me there's a smutty pt.2 coming to manhandled...gently?

You can't leave me on the edge like this 😭

i fear i am leaving you on edge (most likely) bc i cannot write smut to save my life…….. unless

check out manhandled…gently? tho

#superman #ask #clark kent x reader #lmao

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frivolousimagination · 1 day ago

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riiiiiight??