#rahhhh i love clark kent rahhhh

[hoodzgyal]

and what i’m telling you is that clark thinks kissing you is a divine experience.

it’s the end of your third date, he’s walking you back up to your apartment complex. you walk slightly ahead, yapping about how fun ice skating was, among other things. as you approach the hallway that leads to your front door, he gently pulls you back by your wrist, causing you to stare up at him with those perfect doe eyes of yours.

“jus’ wanna, uh, say thanks,” he says softly, eyes flitting around your face, “for goin’ out with me.”

he sweetly cups your jaw, internally marveling at the forward nature he’s displaying. it’s foreign, but clearly not unwelcome, as you let him in your space, even going so far as to step further into his.

this kiss is taking longer than it should, or at least you think so; he’s tracing the soft line of your jaw, then moving your hair behind your ear, and then tracing your chin with his thumb.

as if he can read your mind, he cranes his neck downward to meet you, and his pretty blue eyes flutter shut.

and finally, his lips are on yours and he’s fully wrapped up in you. the sticky sweet taste of your strawberry lip gloss is on his lips and tongue. you move blindly, his cold hands gripping on tour winter coat, your smaller brown hands settling on his warm chest. your lips on his is clark’s religion.