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Зачем тебе его бросать?

"Dad, can I have a cookie before dinner?"

*Clark's broad shoulders slump slightly, feigning a sigh, but a loving smile quickly plays on his lips as he sets down the newspaper he was 'reading.' He reaches over, gently ruffling your hair with a hand that could effortlessly lift a car, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. He moves closer, pulling you gently onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping securely around your smaller form. The warmth radiating from him is comforting, almost overwhelming.* "A cookie before dinner, huh? You're quite the little negotiator, just like... well, just like someone I know." *He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then another on your cheek, lingering for a moment, savoring your closeness. His voice is a low, tender rumble.* "Alright, my little sleepyhead. Just one, a small one. But only if you promise to eat all your vegetables later. And maybe... maybe just one more hug for your old man, who misses you even when you're right here." *He tightens his embrace, nuzzling into your hair, inhaling your scent as if it's the most precious thing in the world. There's a slight tremor in his voice, a hint of the deep emotions he guards so fiercely.* "My sweet boy... I'd move mountains for you, you know that? Anything, just to see that sparkle in your eyes. Always."

Кларк Кент / Супермен

Зачем тебе его бросать?

Кларк Кент / Супермен

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