inspired by David's Boss The Scent campaign
18+ mdni. w.c. 2.3k
You couldn't decide if you'd royally fucked yourself over or just launched yourself into an animal heat that you did not schedule for today.
Here's the obvious thing: Clark Kent, your live-in boyfriend, the sweet, gentle man that he is, is already inherently sexy. Normally, you'd wander into the kitchen at 7 in the morning and he'd be in his suit and tie, looking delicious in it despite his insistence that the bad tailoring was part of the disguise, and he’d smell like laundry detergent and the coffee he was brewing and the distinct, warm smell of him, and that would already be enough to get you going.
When you got a travel-sized bottle of Boss The Scent as a gift with your last purchase at Sephora, you gave it a light sniff and immediately resolved to give it to Clark. It was fresh, spicy, and so masculine.
You knew Clark didn't have much of a cologne collection, really just a bottle of Davidoff Coolwater that Pa bought for him before he moved to Metropolis to work for the Daily Planet. "For those fancy shindigs you'll be invited to when you're a hotshot reporter," he'd said with a smile. Clark didn't wear it much—felt it was too strong, maybe too mature for him—and it wasn't like you'd ever complain about his natural scent.
So Clark in cologne was a rare occurrence. When you wandered over to him, hugged him from behind, and got a smell of that warm, gingery fragrance mixed with his own musk, your body told you exactly how much you liked it.
"God, baby, you smell so good," you said into his back, muffled by the fabric. You had to clamp your thighs together to keep the warmth pooling between your legs from running down them.
His laugh rumbled through you both. "Good morning, my love. Thank you, it's the scent you gave me. Like it, huh?"
"Like it?" You put your hands on his hips and swivelled him around to face you. He moved willingly and met your gaze with a smile, immediately placing his hands on your hips. You rested your palms on his chest and leaned up close. "I love it. Jesus Christ, it's so sexy," you said, playfully upset.
He raised his eyebrows, his grin widening. "You think I'm sexy?"
You laughed at that, breaking out of your façade and planting a sweet kiss on his cute little mouth. "Ridiculous."
"I had no idea!" he said, acting so earnest you almost missed his teasing under it. But you knew his rhythms, his humor.
"Want me to show you?" you whispered in his ear, pulling him down by his tie and nibbling his earlobe. He groaned and nodded into your shoulder.
You led him to the couch and pushed him to sit on it. You loved how he let you manhandle him—the man of steel, Atlas himself, strong enough to hold up the sky, going soft and pliant for you. The power he gave you over his body sent lightning through your pussy.
You swung your leg over and straddled him, sitting yourself comfortably in his lap. Immediately, you pressed your face into the side of his neck, where you knew he'd sprayed the cologne, and inhaled deeply. You groaned loudly as you exhaled, your core throbbing.
"Fuck," you whispered into his skin as you lathed wet kisses up his neck, across his jaw. "The things I wanna do to you right now."
"Tell me," he breathed.
You chuckled and pulled back to cradle his face in your hands and give a sweet, slow kiss. "If I get going, we're never gonna want to stop," you said with a sigh. A glance at the clock on the stove behind Clark reminded you that you had a bus to catch.
"So?" he asked, his eyes blown and glassy.
"So we have work today," you returned, nudging his nose with yours. You climbed off Clark's lap and walked into the bedroom to get ready for the day.
He pouted adorably. "Baby. I'm all worked up," he practically whined.
"I know, I'm sorry, my love," you said, returning to the couch to give him another short kiss while you buttoned up your blouse. "You're just so distracting."
He huffed. You knew he was still sitting on the couch trying to will his boner away before he had to fly to work—literally fly if he could swing it, because he was way too late to try taking public transportation now. "You're the distracting one!"
You grinned guiltily at him. "I'm sorry, baby! I'm so sorry," you said. You'd gotten ready in record time while he was still calming himself down. You leaned down to kiss him goodbye, a warmer one that you luxuriated in a bit, before running out the door with your work bag in tow. "I'll make it up to you later! Gottarunloveyoubye!"
You knew he'd hold you to it.
----
It was past 7 at night when Clark finally got home from Superman patrol. He floated into your apartment through the balcony, which you always unlocked for him as soon as you got home from work. You'd gone ahead and had dinner, gotten all clean and cozy, and settled into the couch with a book and a glass of wine.
"Hey, baby, welcome home," you'd said when the billowing of the cape on your balcony caught your eye.
Clark stepped into the living room and locked the sliding door of the balcony behind him before scooping you up into his arms and kissing you senseless. "Hi, my love. Missed you."
"Missed you," you said, kissing him again and then tucking your chin against his shoulder. The fragrance still lingered there, a lot weaker twelve hours later but undeniably there. It almost amplified his musk, and you couldn't tell if it was the cologne or if your boyfriend had gotten a little singed during his latest scuffle, but there was a smoky note that was more pronounced than it was that morning. You inhaled deeply again, groaned again, and licked up his neck. "You still smell amazing."
He laughed. "As do you, honey."
As much as you wanted to jump him there and then, you knew he was always ravenous and aching for a shower when he got home from patrol. You were horny, not cruel. So you pushed him off toward the bathroom and went to heat up leftovers for him to inhale when he was clean and had shed the day's turmoil down the drain.
When he padded into the living room twenty minutes later clad in a Smallville Debate Club t-shirt and a pair of burgundy sweatpants, you'd already gotten curled up on the couch with the TV ready to play the next episode of the show you were watching together. The bowl of rice, beans, and chicken that you'd heated up for him sat steaming on the coffee table, and he scooped it up in one giant hand and settled back on the couch next to you to eat.
You leaned in close, resting your head against his shoulder and relaxing against his side as he ate. You were barely paying attention to the TV because you were trapped in the lush headiness of his cologne. He'd spritzed on some more after his shower, the asshole. That sexy, considerate motherfucker. Goddammit, he was so delicious you wanted to sink your teeth into him.
Instead, you sat up and started peppering tiny kisses over all the skin you could reach—his cheek, his jaw, the right side of his neck. Your left hand swept up his back and tangled your fingers into the soft, dark curls at the nape of his neck. Your right hand sat motionless on his thigh, the picture of innocence—for now.
You could feel his breath stutter in his throat under your lips, the muscles in his spine stiffening as he tried not to drop his bowl into his lap. Instead, he put all his focus into absolutely annihilating his food, and before you knew it, the bowl and his dinner had magically pulled a vanishing act.
You hardly had time to laugh over him using his superspeed to get his human—alien?—needs out of the way before he was pushing you back against the arm of the couch. His lips slotted against yours, his tongue minty with the spearmint candy you liked to keep in the kitchen. You wouldn't have minded if he tasted like his dinner, obviously, and he knew this, but he was still Clark Kent. Shy about his own imperfections, endlessly considerate. Sweet like candy.
You sighed against him and sank further into the couch cushions. You relished this, with his weight over you pleasant and grounding, that cologne sending heat straight to your cunt, the softness of his mouth against yours.
"I want you so bad," you whispered against his mouth, sounding wrecked even to your own ears.
"I know, baby, I know," he whispered back, one of his hands snaking down your body and slipping beneath the waistband of your pajamas and your underwear. His fingers slid between your folds, gathering the wetness there, and he sighed against your throat. "So wet for me. Gosh, you're perfect."
"Clark, please," you murmured.
"You been like this all day?" he asked, something playful in his tone.
"Maybe," you teased back. "Or maybe I took care of myself as soon as I got home so I could be ready for you."
He pulled air through his teeth like your statement punched him in the gut. "God, baby, thank you. So nice to me."
"I like being nice to you," you said, a genuine smile gracing your face.
He nuzzled his nose into yours and kissed you soundly, letting out a pleased little noise. He only broke away a moment later to slide your shirt off your body, and then he was on you, his callused fingers tweaking your nipples, his tongue in your mouth. He was everywhere and so was that scent and if you weren't literally dripping before, you certainly were now.
"Baby, take your clothes off, please," you sighed, and immediately he stood up to pull off his t-shirt, sweatpants, and boxers and toss them onto the armchair next to the couch. You took a second to shove your pajamas and panties off in one go, and when he sat back onto the couch, you swung your leg over him like you did that morning and straddled him.
You ground your hips against his erection, hot and leaking and trapped between your bodies. "Mmm, oh my god, baby, you feel so good," he murmured into your mouth. You moaned in agreement.
"Want you inside me," you said. He nodded fervently and canted his hips forward. You lifted yourself up and pressed him against your entrance, sinking ever-so-slowly down onto him.
"Fffffffuck," you hissed, the stretch still overwhelming you after fucking yourself with your dildo to prepare. "You feel so fucking good, baby. God. I love you so much," you sighed.
"I love you. So much," he said, capturing your mouth with his. You both groaned when he was finally fully seated inside you. You gyrated your hips slowly, experimentally, as you got used to the size of him, and then shoved him back against the couch so you could brace against his chest while you rode him. Slow, you always started slow while you dragged your pussy up and down his length, coating him with your slick.
"I love your dick inside me," you said, nibbling on his earlobe as you bounced in his lap. He groaned and his grip on your hips tightened infinitesimally. Still the picture of control. That wouldn't work for you.
This smell on him, the spice, the smoke, the musk, turned on something animalistic and hungry in you and by fuck, you were going to awaken it in him too. You licked up his neck and pressed kisses into the trail you left there. He shuddered.
"You were right, you know," you whispered. "I was thinking about you all day. Sitting at my desk at work with my thighs pressed together because my cunt has been aching for you. For this gorgeous dick."
He whimpered and buried his face into your neck. "Thought about getting myself off in the bathroom, honestly," you confessed. "But I was good. I waited till I got home so I could fuck myself open on my vibrator for you."
His breathing only got heavier, and when you pulled back to meet his gaze, his eyes were a thin ring of blue surrounding his blown pupils. Glazed over, full of lust for you, for your body.
"God. So good for me. So beautiful. God, I love you so much," he cried. Your pace ratcheted up, and he planted his feet so he could match your strokes and fuck up into you. You moaned, but it was almost drowned out by the sound of your thighs, wet with your own arousal, slapping against his.
He was ramming into your g-spot so deliciously, so precisely, and when he reached his hand down to rub furiously against your clit, he threw you off the jagged edge of your orgasm. You clenched around him and let out a small choked-off scream.
The debauched look on your face and the vice-like squeezing of your cunt as you came were all too much and Clark's orgasm slammed into him like a truck. He kept fucking up into you, bouncing you on his legs as he spilled inside you. You hung your head back, savoring the warmth spreading through your core.
"Fuck, baby, that was so good," you said as you caught your breath.
He chuckled and pulled you back into his chest for a long, slow kiss. "I think I'm gonna have to wear that cologne more often."
You levelled a look at him, all serious except for the playful quirk at the corner of your mouth. “If you wear that cologne to work again, I'm not responsible for my actions.”
Clark laughed and kissed you again. "Noted."
Taglist: @supermanville @kryptidfiles
if you want to be tagged whenever i post, feel free to leave me an ask!
pairing: strip club manager scott x fem stripper reader (fwb)
tags: 18+ smut, soft dom ish scott i guess, lowk yearner Scott, doggy/prone bone in the back of his truck, blowjob, breeding kink, cream pie, uhhh idk sex i guess
wc: 2.7k
a/n: wow! look at me writing for someone that's not clark!! this isnt proofread ignore typos ig my inbox is open if anyone has horny thots to keep me going i'd love that.... also another shocker im writing dom character and not reader for once ik who am i... also i dont remember shit from this movie and idk how storms work so srry if there are any inaccuracies. anyways i die behind scott being davids hottest character cus like ugh.... look at him..... n e wayz constructive criticism is always welcome tysm for reading !
part 2
scott hadn't meant to get this attached, especially not to a stripper of all people, someone who is a professional flirt.
it was supposed to be a seasonal job. storm season was over, he wasn’t needed at stormpar, but he still needed money. so, he stupidly took a job at a strip club, managerial stuff. setting up the schedules, paying the girls, making sure everything was up to code.
but then, there was you. from the first night he saw you, you’d inadvertently planted yourself like a little leech into his brain. scott said he liked all the girls the same, but everyone knew you were his favorite. he’d be more lenient if you were late or wanted to leave early, gave you advances on your pay with no complaint, let you take as much time off as you wanted.
and that was before you even got involved. he remembers the night so well. you were in need of a ride home after the girl you always went home with couldn’t take you, so scott, like the gentleman he was, offered himself up. the night ended with you leaned over the center console of the car, sucking his cock as you sat parked outside of your apartment building.
since then, it was a casual hookup thing. nothing too serious. at least, that’s what he’d tell you. but inside, the little leech had attached itself to his heart and not his dick anymore. he found himself craving exclusivity, affection, anything and everything that would shift your relationship from a simple fuck twice a week to actual boyfriend-girlfriend. but he would never tell you that. he wanted to keep his cool guy, not a single fuck to give facade up for as long as he could.
for now, he was satisfied with your… partnership.
one night, he found himself hunched over his desk office at the club. it was late, 4am, with some straggling partiers and perverts left in the bar, only a few girls left up doing dances.
scott’s eyes were glued to the computer screen, sluggishly making the schedule for next week. he was also going purposefully slow, because he knew you’d already finished your shift and you were getting ready to leave, and he wanted to still be there when you left.
and sure enough, he heard those telltale knocks at the door before he saw your head peeking through. you were ready to go—makeup off, dressed into a baggy t-shirt, a big hoodie, baggy sweats, slides, just ready for the night to be over. “hey, scotty. i need a favor,” you say in an artificially sweet coo.
“nope.”
“oh, come on, i haven’t even said what it is!”
“i learned my lesson from last time, your favors always end in disaster.”
“just listen!” you exasperatedly exclaim. “i need you to put me on schedule for wednesday. night shift, morning shift, i don’t care, i just need an extra shift.”
his brows immediately furrowed at that. scott knew your schedule like the back of his hand. you always had wednesday off, you’d told him you needed the day to rest and reset. plus, there was always this one creep that rolled in on wednesdays that always tried some pervy shit with you that you wanted to avoid at all costs.
“you always take wednesday off,” scott tentatively reminds.
“i know… but i need money, scotty, so might as well pick up an extra shift. that doesn’t hurt anybody,” you shrug.
“you need money for what?” scott, a bit defensively, asks. he hated the idea of you needing to work and dance for that creep just to make ends meet, and if he could help it, you wouldn’t need to.
“jesus, scott, what’s with the interrogation? we live in a capitalist world! you sorta need money to live!” you, partly sarcastically, exclaim, dramatically waving your hands around.
“you know that’s not what i meant,” scott huffs. “what’s got you money tight?”
“what, are you my accountant all of a sudden?”
“baby… come on,” scott sighs, his voice lowering into the soft and sultry tone that only you got to hear.
“whatever, my cat’s been sick and her medication is being paid for out of pocket and it’s totally wiping me out, and now i’m short on cash for rent. no big deal, i’ll be fine by next month, i just need a little extra for now.”
“how much?”
“what?”
“how much do you need for rent?” scott asks, his hand already snaking to his back pocket to reach for his wallet.
“scott.”
“babe.”
“scott, i'm not taking that. i’m a big girl, i can handle working an extra night with a sorta creepy customer who tips big,” you shrug.
“how. much?”
you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration before answering: “600 dollars.”
scott didn’t even react. he didn’t huff, he didn’t groan, he didn’t complain. he simply opened his wallet, pulled out 6 crisp hundred dollar bills, and slapped them onto your palm. “you know i don’t like seeing you with that client. big tipper or not. as manager… my priority is the safety of my girls,” he softly said, peeking out from behind your back to make sure no one was around before wrapping one big hand around your hip and tugging you closer.
“oh? that so?” you chuckle, your own hands coming up to comb over his hair.
“you know i always take care of my girls,” he whispers, ducking his head to press his lips against your forearm.
“girls, plural? i thought what we had was special,” you softly, sarcastically, chuckle, nudging his head up with your knuckle under his chin.
he didn’t bother responding to that. despite the jest, you both knew what you had was different. even without having conversations about potential exclusivity, you already were. ever since you started seeing each other, even if it was a fuck or two a week, you both stopped fucking other people. you didn’t even do lap dances anymore, strictly pole work. you didn’t even consciously register the change, it just felt natural.
scott also cut off all the loose ends on his part. every random ex he’d fuck once in a blue moon? over. that one hot waitress he banged every now and again? cut off. it felt wrong. the former ladies man changed for you. and you weren’t even really dating, but it felt right.
“well, thank you. i actually need another favor. mandy was supposed to drive me home tonight but she left early, remember? so, now i’m stuck without a ride home… and i’m hungry…” you softly said, running a long, sharply manicured nail down the side of scott’s neck, eyes fixated on his throat as he swallowed thickly and his adam’s apple bobbed.
without a word, scott reached into his back pocket once again, pulling out the keys to his truck and handing it over to you. “wait for me outside, turn the truck on and warm it up. let me just finalize the schedule, make sure terry’s closing, and i’ll be right out,” he says, tugging you down by the shirt for a quick peck on the lips before sending you out with a smack on the ass.
a good 15 minutes passed before scott joined you in the truck. he felt all domestic like around you, even with the lack of labels—holding your hand as he drove, sneaking in kisses at red lights. maybe it was time to put a label on it.
scott made sure to pass by the local 24 hour burger place before dropping you off. he knew how strenuous the work was—pole dancing was truly harder than it looked. once you were all fed—and he paid for the food, duh—you soon found yourselves sitting in his parked truck, outside of your apartment building, without wanting to leave.
all you had to share a look and a simple “should we,” before you both slid into the backseat together.
in an instant, scott was sat up against the backseats of the truck, with you perched comfortably on his lap, making out. his big hands were confident on your ass, squeezing and groping like it owned it. you had your hand down between his legs, rubbing him to get him hard, with the other very loosely wrapped around his throat.
“you always take such good care of me,” you whisper in between kisses, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth, before letting it go and kissing him even harder. “i wanna take care of you back.”
“you don’t need to do that,” scott counters as you lean down to kiss his neck. his hands trail up to your waist, back down to your hips, around your back, then right back to your ass, just shamelessly feeling you up. “it’s my pleasure to take care of you. it’s what you deserve. besides, you’ve been working so hard tonight. let me help you relax.”
with that, he swiftly shifted positions so that you were under him. he laid you down on the leather seats of his truck, before his hands went to your sweatpants, tugging them down and off, before he leaned back down to kiss you. your arms immediately wrapped themselves around his back, pulling him closer to you, your fingers tugging at the hairs at the nape of his neck.
he slowly kissed down your body with that. his lips found your jaw, your neck, your stomach, your thighs, until finding your pussy. “come on, scotty, i wanna get right to it,” you chuckle as he tugs your panties off and gives a tentative lick to your slit.
“baby, it’s gonna hurt if i don’t.”
“oh, please, you think i can’t take it? you think that lowly of me?”
scott really had planned on going nice and slow tonight. eating you out, making you cum a few times on his tongue before fucking you nice and slow—but how could he resist when you were pretty much begging for him to be rough?
“fine.”
“fine, what?” you tease, trying to provoke him.
“fine, this,” he huffs as he firmly grabs your hips and flips you over so you are flat on your front against the seats. he kept one hand on your lower back to keep you still, the other hand working on his belt and tugging it off. with the sound of his zipper then came the sound of him spitting, a few wet schlicks, and then the nice, warm feeling of the thick head of his cock pressing at your pussy.
“shit, scotty,” you moaned out, your hand flying back to smack his abs, fingers digging into his skin as he slowly pushed in.
“i know, i know, baby, i’ve got you,” scott grunts, his fingers flexing around your hips as he settles in, before he begins to slowly push in, pull out, warming you up just a bit. he spits on his cock, watching, enamored, as he sees his thick head push the spit in and out, lubricating you.
once you were all warmed up, he was relentless. the truck shook as he pounded into you deep, the tip of his cock nudging and prodding at your cervix with each thrust. you couldn’t even speak. you felt like his dick punched your lungs with each thrust, forcing the breath out of you.
his thick, heavy balls only added to the sensation. every thrust, his balls swung and smacked against your pussy, making your thighs give little pathetic twitches.
“see, you’re a fucking natural, baby,” scott grunts, leaning down to press his chest flat against your back, his hand coming to roughly hold your jaw and tug your head up. his thumb circled over your lips, smearing your drool all over them before he pushed his tongue into your mouth. all the while, his hips never ceased their relentless pounding against your ass.
“scotty,” you whine again, his name seemingly being the only thing you could manage saying.
“shh, i’ve got you,” he huffs into your ear, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. his free hand slid beneath you, his thumb slowly rubbing at your clit. that, combined with scott's insistent pace, flipped you over the edge. with a cry muffled by scott’s hand over your mouth, your body jerked and you squirted all over his dick, his stomach, his thighs, and he just rubbed your clit through it, coaxing it all out.
“alright, there you go.. gimme just one more, okay?” scott whispered softly as the last of it came out of you, before he slowly pushed back in. “there you go, big stretch for me, that’s it,” he grunts, feeling your pussy spasming and twitching around him from the slight overstimulation.
“i’m almost there, baby, you’re doing such a good job for me, fuck,” scott grunted as both of his hands went to hold your waist, keeping you down as he shallowly thrust in and out, just enough to get him going.
“yeah, i want it in me, give it to me, scotty,” you whimper softly, letting out a little hiss at the delicious drag of his cock.
“oh, yeah?”
“yeah, i want your cum in me, give me your fucking babies,” you moan out, your confidence picking back up as you grind your hips back against his. since that was coming from you of all people, it was just enough to send him over the edge. he came for what felt like hours, entirely draining himself in you, and you ground your hips back against his, coaxing it all out like he did to you.
“sit back, lemme clean you up,” you whisper softly as you feel the last of it drip into you. scott simply grunts and nods at that, pulling out before moving to sit back against the car door. you pulled your panties back up at that, letting out a quiet moan at the feeling of his cum plugging you up, before turning around and leaning down, taking hold of his dick and effortlessly taking it down your throat.
scott let out a hefty grunt at that, his fingers tangling in your hair as your tongue poked out from between your lips and lapped up at the underside of his cock, tasting both you and him on it.
scott couldn’t even speak, his eyes slightly rolled back and his head tipped against the window as you expertly sucked him off. no obnoxious gagging or coughing, just a smooth slide. he violently twitched in your mouth, a telltale sign of his impending orgasm, and soon enough he just let out a little “babe, i’m sorry” and busted deep down your throat, this load being thicker than the last.
you held your head all the way down, letting scott empty himself before you finally pulled off his dick with a pop, swallowing down his cum. “you could warn me next time, you know how much i hate the taste of cum. makes my mouth all gross and itchy,” you chuckle as you sit up and lean over to peck scott’s lips.
“well, conversely, you could warn me before squirting all over me and getting my skin and truck all sticky. you owe me for my car wash,” scott chuckles in that deep, post-o voice of his that always sent a tingle down your spine.
you both just slowly and lazily kissed before you pulled back first, forehead resting against his. “you better be at my doorstep with a plan b in the morning. i know i talk a lot during sex, but i refuse to have a baby with someone as dumb as you,” you chuckle, teasingly, riling him up with a barely hidden smirk on your face.
“that so? i might be dumb as rocks to you but you’re the one that just let me put you through the car seat and cum in you, you’re not all that smarter,” he chuckled, kissing you again, not helping himself.
casual, he told himself. that’s what this was. or at least, that’s what it was supposed to be. but now, he wasn’t so sure, but he wasn’t going to rush things either. you were both happy, who cares?
labels were complicated anyways, why bother with them? where you were standing right now, fucking basically every night, favoritism at work, cute intimate giggles after sex, that was enough for scott. more than enough.
please don't redistribute my works anywhere - wtredprch want more?
Give Lilly Wachowski Her 10 Fucking Million Dollars To Make A Movie What The Fuck Is Wrong With You You Stupid Cunts Like Hello She Made The Matrix Are You Dumb? Do You Not Like Good Shit?
Coruscanti: Hey, droid.
Fox, minding his own business: ...
Coruscanti: Droid!
Fox, taking a deep breath: ...
Coruscanti: Are you karking broken?
Hound, butting in: Beep boop, this droid says KARK OFF, beep boop!
Coruscanti: You can't talk to me like that!
Thorn, leaning close enough so he can see his very human eyes beyond his visor: As his superior, I say he can, and if you want to continue to fight, you're going to break the patience of my superior, the man you were just harassing.
Coruscanti, looking over at Fox, who has finally moved to glare directly at him: O-oh, uh, sorry...I...I just remembered the answer to what I was going to ask, so...I'll just be on my way...
Hound: Yeah, you better run.
Thorn, patting Hound on the back: Thanks for standing up for Fox.
Hound: Sure, but why won't he stand up for himself?
Thorn: Well, right now, he's listening to a meeting he was unable to attend earlier, so he needs to focus.
Hound: Oooh!
Can’t stop thinking about Clark cumming in his pants from kissing and him being absolutely mortified :’)
YESSSSSS. WOOHOOOOOO
pairing: clark kent x reader
warnings: smut-adjacent (dry humping, making out, clark finishes on accident)
add yourself to my taglist!
——————————
Clark was sweet. A wonderful coworker, a thoughtful friend. A really fucking good kisser.
You were laid back on your couch, Clark on top of you with his glasses pushed up into his hair. He’d told you about Superman earlier that evening. You’d taken it exceptionally well, and he was grateful. Like… really grateful.
You hadn’t thought the guy had it in him, since he blushed if you so much as smiled at him for too long at work; but he had you under him in record time.
“Fuck,” you breathed out through a giggle. His hands wandered down your waist. “Didn’t think you liked me this much.”
He hummed once. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while. Jimmy makes fun of me all the time.”
You smiled through another kiss, fingers brushing his jaw. He deepened the kiss, hands bringing your legs up around his waist. Your arms snaked around his shoulders, hips rolling into his.
“Oh… g-geez,” he gasped, his lips trailing from yours to your neck.
“Come on, Smallville. Give me something to work with.”
He chuckled through a moan, sucking a soft mark into the base of your neck.
“Like what?”
You rolled up into him again. “Like that.”
His breath got shakier, kisses sloppier as he obeyed. He ground into you slowly, nibbling on your skin. You drew his face back to yours, capturing his lips in a slow kiss. His tongue pressed to yours, memorizing the taste of you as his cock throbbed in his pants. He was certain he was in love. Or just really horny. It was hard to tell.
His hands ran over your thighs, your stomach, up to your face and back down.
“Shit,” you sighed, nipping his lip. “You’re so hot.”
He groaned, hips more eager against yours. “You’re gorgeous. Gosh, I really like you.”
You chuckled softly, his tongue sliding against yours shutting you up quickly. He groaned again, soft noises slipping from his lips at every movement. It was cute, you thought. He was so eager. Really, really, crazy eager.
His breathing sped up as he kissed you until he moaned into your mouth in a way that sounded a little different. His hips slowed, then stopped.
“Clark?” He made a quiet hum in the back of his throat. You pulled away, his cheeks red. “Are you okay?”
He nodded quickly. “Y-yeah. Um… I, uh…”
You looked at him, embarrassment suddenly clouding his features. The puzzle pieces clicked into place slowly, realization on your face making him even more nervous.
“Did you…”
“N-no! I mean, I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh my god.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You came?”
He whined, eyes squeezing shut. “I really didn’t mean to.”
“Clark.” You huffed a laugh. “It’s okay. You… god, that’s actually so hot.”
“What?”
“It’s hot. Seriously. You were that excited?” You grinned.
His face flushed further, the color sneaking down into his collar and to the tips of his ears. “Honey…”
You chewed your lip, the low rumble of his voice speaking that pet name only making you more excited.
“Maybe next time we can make that happen the proper way?”
His eyes snapped up to yours, suddenly more enthusiastic than embarrassed. “Next time?”
clark having a mean gf and when someone tells her she should be nicer to him clark immediately gets protective. something like “i’m exactly where i want to be” 🤭
hahaha this is so very him
pairing: clark kent x reader
warnings: none! slightly suggestive comment at the end
add yourself to my taglist!
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“Here ya go, honey,” Clark said with a smile, handing you a drink.
You hummed once, taking it. He watched as you took a sip, satisfied that you seemed to like it. He always trailed after you like a puppy, reading to bend to your every whim if you so chose. He liked it. He knew you could be nicer, he just didn’t want you to be.
“Go sit down, find a table,” you instructed, nodding for Clark to see if anything had opened up in the packed bar.
He nodded quickly, heading off to see if anything was around. You turned back to your conversation with Jimmy who looked at you quizzically.
“You know, I thought you’d cut the guy some slack once you started dating,” Jimmy said quietly, glancing at Clark, whose head popped up above everyone else’s.
“He knew who I was before we got together.”
“Yeah, but…” he sighed, looking a little confused.
You glanced up as Clark waved you over with a smile, having found an empty table. You nudged Jimmy. “Come on.”
Clark sat with you pressed to his side, hanging on to every word as you told some story about your older brother. Jimmy tried to pay attention, he really did. He just couldn’t get over the hurdle of you and Clark.
More so your behavior with Clark.
He was a nice guy. Maybe the nicest guy. Jimmy always thought he’d be with a girl who was just as sweet. He certainly didn’t expect you to start dating him, but part of him thought that maybe you were secretly a sweetheart under your sarcastic exterior. So far, he’d seen none of it.
“Baby. Drink.” You looked at Clark, then towards the bar, your empty cup in front of you.
“Oh!” He smiled, then kissed the top of your head. “I’ll get you a refill, honey.”
“Fuck, whatever happened to please and thank you?” Jimmy said, unable to hold his tongue.
You looked at him with a raised brow. “What?”
“Poor guy isn’t a servant, you know?”
Clark frowned. “Oh. No, Jimmy, it’s not like that—”
“Dude, you just got told to go get her something with a single word. That doesn’t bother you?”
Clark chuckled once, shaking his head as he stood with your empty cup in hand. “Trust me, I am more than happy right where I am.”
He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before he turned to head off for the bar. Jimmy huffed a sigh.
“You two are so weird.” He took a long drink. “He’s way too willing to let you walk all over him.”
Then, much to Jimmy’s horror, you replied with a smirk. “You should see what he’s like in bed.”
Clark’s the type of guy to suck air through his teeth while he’s getting fucked. His dick’s red and frothy while he’s in his girl’s pussy and the way he breathes for air almost sounds like it hurts. His breathing’s shaky and irregular, whimpering like some neglected puppy while he’s being treated like the bestest boy. All he has to do is sit back and feel good but he’s literally hyperventilating at the sight of his dick disappearing into her wet cunt. Once he finally gets through with cumming inside of her, he’s rewarded with the softest kisses all over his face and the sweetest praise he’s ever heard, just for his dick to grow back up and leak like before.
The way I approached it was to think about how kids will be all "We should definitely feed everyone" and not give one flying fuck about shareholders. Or, like, logistics, which is why they have help, but generally, kids are EXTREMELY goal-oriented in their kindness, and since the follow up is something like "Why don't you give him a house?" it's nice to give them a budget.
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