Hate him or love him? Part 2
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader
Summary: Having not listened to your boyfriend, you decided to go to interview Superman's number 1 enemy...without knowing that your lovely boyfriend would be the one affected by your harsh words towards the beloved superhero.
Word count: 2.6k ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
Tags: Sexual content, very dom!clark, sub!reader, rough sex, slapping kink, blowjob, masturbation!fingering (reader receiving),slightly public, size kink, mentions of threesome, praising, making out, piv.
Clark knew that you wouldn’t have listened to him.
He realised that you didn’t when he woke up alone in the bed he made you orgasm over and over again, not even a few hours ago.
After a night full of intimacy and ecstasy, he thought that you would take his time this one time– he should have known that you wouldn’t take his advice even if it would cause her to sit uncomfortably for weeks to come.
Your stubbornness infuriates him more than anything in his life, and he hates that it’s the thing he loved most about you.
He stands up naked, his morning wood ever present. He takes some fresh boxers and looks around the floor, seeing his clothes still scattered across the floor—his clothes, not yours. Your’s are nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” he groans, annoyed, and takes his phone to call you. Straight to voicemail. “Alright. I told you not to go, I warned you not to go, but you never listen to me. Your ass better be prepared for when you come home.”
He can’t wait for you to come home. He throws the phone on the bed and brushes his dark hair back. Why did he trust her to stay put when he knew she never listened?
You’re so happy that you finally had the chance to interview Lex Luthor. The Lex Luther, one of the few men who rule the city of Metropolis, one of Superman’s main enemies. He can give you information, why not? He already agreed to an interview.
Your smile is huge, so huge that one could see it from a mile away. You can barely contain your excitement as you walk into Clark’s apartment building. (Yours is, of course, taken ages to rebuild.)
You open the door and hang the navy jacket next to the door, and call out to your boyfriend, excitedly.
“Clark? Clark, you will not believe what information I got from that bald-”
“So, you finally showed your pretty face,” you see him in his usual white shirt and his black long dress pants– his usual work attire. He apparently just finished washing the dishes. “You weren’t at work today. What did you do today?”
You walk into the kitchen, slow and steady, and smile at him innocently. “Well, Clark. As you know, I had an interview planned today.” You take a deep breath and don’t look him in his eyes. “And I did go to interview him. Lex Luthor, I mean,” you add hesitantly.
“I know who you are talking about, love.” His voice is deeper, angrier, as he cleans his hands with the kitchen cloth, “I got you a meeting with Superman for tomorrow, you couldn't wait?
You quickly walk towards your work bag and grab your voice tape and computer. “Let me show you what I got! It’s worth it, Clark. It really was, and I don’t regret it.” You try to ignore the angry tone in his voice, which is hard since you don't typically get angry at each other and mostly at something so stupid like an interview with someone so important.
He should be proud of you… right?
Clark steps closer until you notice him sitting beside you “Let me see then,” he dryly agrees, his tone suggesting that he did not actually want to see what is going to play on the computer.
You open the computer and look for the file with the voice recording, “Look and listen to me just this once. He talks about how he noticed a pattern in all the areas that are affected whenever Superman is fighting. Most of the areas are lower-income areas that are affected whenever Superman damages the buildings there. He always fights the villains over there, did you notice that?” You’re starting to pant in excitement.
“Always the lower-income areas and never the areas where most high-income families live. Mansions, luxury buildings, and all those owned by buildings barely ever get a scratch on them. Don’t you see that is going to be news-breaking?”
Clark snaps the pen he has been holding in two. He’s always angry when it comes to Lex because he has a habit of spreading misinformation to a reporter, especially when it’s one of the biggest outlets in the entire city.
“You know that's not true, he sends the villains that way to-” Clark defends (himself), agitated.
You snort, “Oh, cmon, Clark, be real here. Lex Luthor is a busy CEO who inherited his multimillion-dollar company from his father. You think he has the time to send villains to fight in a low-income area so that Superman can come and 'help'? That doesn’t make sense, Clark. Stop trying to defend your, best friend Superman, and get your head straight,” you mock him angrily and glare at him.
Is his support really that hard to ask for?
“He is not my friend! I am-” He shuts his mouth before something stupid comes out– like he truth.
He hates that he can’t tell you the truth, but how could he tell you when you absolutely hated Superman, more than you hate the rats? How can he tell you, when you hate him?
“You are what?” You scoff as you pass him the computer with half an article written “Read it, I try to make Superman less problematic. See if it’s up to your standards,” you tell him.
His fingers grab your computer, and his eyes scan your words. He loves how passionate you are when you write, every emotion clear in every word that you write, and he loves how transparent you are. He loves to feel what you write; if only it wasn’t about how much you hate Superman.
Times like these make him wonder how his life would differ if he weren’t Superman. “It’s great,” he mutters, unenthusiastic.
He closes the computer and sighs, “Will you publish the article before or after interviewing Superman?” After having agreed to an interview with you, he couldn’t wait. Happy and nervous, but excited. Now, however? He wants to do the interview right this second if he could. Just to fucking clear this stupid misunderstanding. Fucking Lex Luther and his manipulations. He grimaces angrily.
“I think I will publish the article before the interview with Superman. It’ll be good for the public to take it all in before hearing Superman’s side of things,” you thought aloud. “It will also give me more to write about.”
His expression darkens further, his eyes seemingly glowing with uncontrollable anger when the light hits. He starts to put the computer away before you can protest. Clark holds your throat gently and presses a kiss– furious and so good– on your lips. “You will wait one more day,” Clark orders, leaving no room for arguments.
“Clark, I could have put my computer away,” you argue and reach out to reclaim the computer that is still in Clark’s hands. But instead of grabbing the computer, you fall on his chest.
He didn’t say anything, only put your computer on the table. “Do you truly hate him that much that you want to destroy his entire reputation?”
His hand goes up to your chin and holds it with more force than usual. After he dominated and fucked so hard yesterday, it seems like he doesn’t want to go slower again. Not that you are complaining when you love having his strong member buried inside of you.
Your eyes shine, forgetting everything about everything you did today. You could only think about Clark.
Clark, Clark, Clark, Clark, Clark, Clark.
“I got very angry at you this morning, love. You didn’t listen to me like a good girl should,” he growls darkly and pushes your head down to his member.
You lick your lips and start to unbutton his pants. Slowly, teasing you, pushes his pants further down and seductively traces your fingers around his covered cock.
You can feel how hard he is for you.
Pleasure runs through your body, and you smile wantonly. “You wanted so bad, take it” He hands your hair and pushes you toward his now uncovered cock.
You kiss the head, never taking his cock in your mouth. You like to tease; you enjoy the teasing. You love how work up he gets. You listen to his amused groans.
“What? You disobeyed once, and now you want to disobey again? Darling, what a precious slut you are,” he chuckles darkly and without earning pushes his erect cock in your mouth. “There. Now suck and at least try to pretend to be good for me.”
You gag, surprised, but will your throat to relax to take him easier. His cock feels thicker in your mouth, with every millimeter you take. Your nose touches the V on his six pack. You moan, tears rising in your pretty eyes. Pleasure is all that you are feeling. Sweet pleasure, you moan.
“Move,” he demands softly and your mouth moves. Slow and deliberate, your mouth moves back and forth, savouring the taste of Clark’s precum.
You whine and moan, and move faster. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you gag, eyes wide with pleasure as you sit still and take it.
His cock fell from your mouth, and you whined pathetically and desperately. Your mouth is still wide open, and you start begging.
“Please, Clark. Please, let me suck your cock. I need it. I need it, I need it. I need it, I need it—” yet again, he shoves himself in your mouth.
“Shut the fuck up and take my cock. Swallow everything. Don’t you dare let anything drop from your pretty little mouth, or your ass gets it?” He aggressively threatens and pumps faster and faster. His groaning and moaning get louder, and after a minute, you can feel him cumming down your throat.
You moan louder and try to swallow everything; the cum is salty, but you enjoy it.
When you finish swallowing every drop, he looks at you dangerously before pulling your hair towards him. It forced you to stand up, which you whine about.
You’re comfortable kneeling in front of him and taking his big cock all day, every day if he so wishes.
He takes off your grey cardigan as you help him take his white shirt off. After he strips you naked, he presses you to the window, with you looking toward the scenery.
Your nipples are hard and pink due to the sudden coldness, and you are desperate for Clark to touch you. Touch you so hard and so soft as if it were the first time.
It turns you on; him pressing you to the window without fear that anybody could see you having sex.
(No one could actually see you because the window is tainted from the outside).
“You like that?” He groans in your ears.“The whole city being able to see your tits and your dripping wet pussy?” His hand moves up your inner thighs and touches you ever so gently.
Ironic, really, when the monster inside him was begging to make you cum over and over again. When you feel his fingers caressing your pussy, your legs almost give up.
You thank every god on this earth that his arms are strong enough to hold you even when you are so damn close to cumming all because of his touch and his dick gracing your clenching folds.
“Please, Clark. Please just put it in. I can’t live without it. Please let me feel you inside of me. Please, I need your cum, I feel so empty. Please, please,” you beg without caring about the fact that you sounded so fucking pathetic. You felt pathetic, and you loved it. “Please, fill me.”
You crave his fingers and his dick. The way his 3 fingers enter you at the same time makes you gasp. One finger is already enough to stretch you, 3 at the same time, however? That sedates you for a little while. His fingers are as talented as his cock.
You’re hips move quicker, more desperately than ever. “You asked for this the moment you decided not to listen to me, you disobedient little thing.” You squeal, putting your cheek on the window as he fucks you harshly with just his fingers.
You feel your orgasm coming.
“Why are you so against-” you moan, confused. You are stuck between focusing on the pleasure Clark is giving you or pressing for more answers.
He slapped your ass so hard to shut you up. It works because the only thing out of your mouth is whorish moans and begs for more. You feel your brain turn off.
Why were you thinking, again?
You’re body starts to vibrate as you feel you start to orgasm, but it abruptly stops, and you feel your tears starting to fall as you whine in protest, your hips moving back for more friction. He chuckles darkly and turns you towards him.
“You are so desperate for me that you are coming on my fingers alone,” he muses. “Come on, ride me. Earn your pleasure,” he commands, and his fingers are back inside you.
You stop counting the seconds you are in this position. Nothing matters anymore, only the sweet relief that only he can bring you. You move faster, taking no break. You ride him up and down until you come hard on his fingers.
He licks them, tasting them “Have you been drinking pineapple juice?” he asks, amused, before commanding, “Taste yourself.”
Your mouth opens and takes his fingers, you’re juices taste sweeter than before, and you moan and nod.
“Huh, you really did? You really are that desperate.” He states and watches you clean his fingers until there is nothing to clean.
It was so dirty- humiliating, but you love it.
Clark puts his dick near your opening and pushes the tip in; he knows it would annoy you.
“Isn’t it funny how every time we talk about Superman and how much you hate him we end up having sex?” He growls and pushes deeper. “Are you truly this cock hungry that you can’t imagine why?”
You moan, closing your eyes not to look at the view in front of you. Clark is a dangerous sin. “I don’t know,” you whine desperately, whorishly, and arch your back to the window to feel him deeper inside of you. “I really don’t know.”
“You do know. You have known and you hate it. It’s okay, though,” he counters smugly and pushes in deeper.
Deeper, and deeper until his cock almost touches your womb. You couldn’t think about anything else but Clark. Your mind goes blank as he rams into you with no mercy.
“Say it?” he demands while you pant. “Tell me the truth. Do you still hate him? Or have you connected the dots finally?”
“Fuck no. I still hate him,” you scream when your orgasm runs through your body.
His hand moves to your throat and squeezes before leaning his head on your neck.
“You love him. You want him so bad, but you can’t because you want him. You crave him,” his whispers and fucks you through your orgasm harder than he ever did.
You shake your head quickly, but wish that Superman continues to fuck you in any of your other holes.
He chuckles darkly, “I am Superman…I am fucking superman”.
Author note: sorry for the delay! and thanks for the 100 followers!!!
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