Clark knew he was strong, he knew the pain he could inflict on someone if he didn’t control himself. Over the years he’d learned that the hard way. The first time he laid with a girl she practically up and ran from his house after seeing the sheer size of him. What seemed like a blessing sometimes felt like a curse to him.

Only a few more girls followed after that, some of them made it all the way with him, others were gone before that happened. But everytime he slept with someone he found himself holding back, too scared that his powers would take over and he’d accidentally snap the poor person in half.

He never had to say it to you out loud, but you knew. He was always gentle, always slow and deliberate in taking you apart. Sometimes you loved it, other times you wished he’d just let go, give you him without any hesitation and just full force. Even if it killed you, you’d die happy.

But no matter how many hints you dropped, Clark never caught on, or maybe he pretended not to. His gentleness was kind, a nice relief after a long day at work. But right now with Superman’s public image shattered and the world falling apart, you didn’t want gentle. You wanted a roughness that made you forget every bad thing that was happening, maybe even your name too. Besides, Clark needed to blow off some steam anyways.

“Baby” his voice was gentle, pulling you from your thoughts as he offered you a glass of warm tea. He was over at your place again, settling onto the couch beside you.

“What’re you thinking about?” he murmured, placing his face into your neck to set small kisses along the soft skin.

God.. how could even begin to explain what you were thinking about to a man so gentle.