𝐛𝐨𝐨!

𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮? 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 requests open 🪽⬇️

[ghostlychel69]

| welcome to my blog!

| introduction + links:

I'm 9teen, black , a scorpio and a total fanatic of all things because I can't be normal about anything. I use she/her pronouns and want this place to be a safe space for all pretty geeks and freaks alike. 🪽

currently hyper-fixating on: Clark Kent

| masterlist! | requests! 💌 | blog rules!

divider by @/canibalis

[weezerblue]

TELL ME IF IM COOKING WAIT

the kent farm being full of hybrids, specifically a little lamb girl who's impossible to keep away from clark.

like,,, she's just constantly crawling in his general vicinity even tho martha keeps gently dragging her away + she always finds a way to escape her pen and make her way over to wherever clark's at,,, and clark doesn't rlly know what to do with her so he just lets her be, making her get even MORE attached and like... u see where i'm going with this ?

[innorality]

« c’mon, baby, bite on it.. » clark panted, his hips working on autopilot as they slammed into you repeatedly, while he presented his forearm to you, waiting for you to plant your cute little fangs in his skin of steel. he had in a full nelson, but let go of one of your limp legs. « c’mon, don’t needa think about it, just do what am sayin’, yeah? oh, yeah, good girl… good effin’ girl, that’s right- ah-! »

clark has always had a habit of talking you through things, be it doing the dishes, cooking, or sex. but you wonder what in earth came through him tonight because, fuck, was he talkative.

« g-gonna… hm, gonna fuck those useless braincells outta ya, yeah? been- ngh– been stressing out way too much about all that- that useless stuff, my love… » and he slammed up again, heavy balls tightening up with every twitch of your delicious pussy, all warm and gooey and sweet and he could practically taste your juices being squeezed out of your hole by his thick cock claiming its spot inside.

your fangs dig deeper into his skin, as if attempting to draw blood, but the kryptonian simply moans—whines in your ear, as if you could bite down harder, hurt him further. with you, pleasure blended with pain, and whatever you could do to him would feel too fucking good.

« lemme fill you– p-please… lemme fill that cute tummy up.. yeah? you want that? want it all inside? oh, yeah, my sweet honey… yeah, i know you want it. » the arm holding your leg up goes higher, bending your body into impossible flexibility. he cooed praises in your ear, whispers of sweet nothings to distract you from the bundle of pleasure focused on your core—in vain.

he saw that was in vain when a stream of cut squirted out of your pussy, soaking the mattress, and your walls smashed around his twitching cock, which did not take long to follow. « fffuhh- ngh– gah! y-yeah! baby, that’s it- hmm, yesss… s-such a p-perfect girl taking it aaall— ahh- fuck! fuck, it feels so good! m’cumming again! m’cumming! gonna make you a mommy- ah, m’cumming, mommy! »

and then he came again, more this time, filling you to what felt like the brim with his seed.

what did come through him?

[cherrysweets-world]

18+, minors dni, masterlist

possessive!Clark who can’t stop stealing your panties

When you first start dating Clark, all you see is the perfect gentleman who holds open doors, pulls out your chairs and doesn’t kiss you until the third date.

And then, one day, you’re standing in an elevator together, idly chatting. You almost don’t notice the way his hand tightens on your waist, drawing you closer when another man enters and gives you a friendly smile. What you do notice, though, is the way the stranger’s face blanches and he quickly turns to avoid looking at you.

If it wasn’t for the mirrors, you wouldn’t have seen the near-snarl on Clark’s face, eyes all narrowed and honed in on the man as though he had made a pass at you. Your jaw dropped at the sheer difference in character.

Clark catches your eye in the mirror and the expression drops, melting into the soft, sweet man you recognise.

After that, you begin to notice just how possessive Clark is over you. It’s almost shameful how much it turns you on and you practically melt into the ground the first time Clark catches your scent, tilts his head down at you and blinks at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen before half-dragging you back to his apartment.

Even when you’re alone together, he pastes himself to you as though he expects someone to try to take you away.

He eats you out like a man starved, content to roll his hips into your lower legs as he licks you to orgasm. He doesn’t stop until you’re well on your way to a second, only pausing when you begin to beg and tug at his dark curls.

He swipes a finger through your centre, sticks it into his mouth and sucks.

“I want to roll in your scent,” he admits, taking in another heady breath. “I can’t get enough.”

He always cleans you up with your own panties and you just assume he drops them in the washing basket after.

And then you notice the lace peeking out of his work bag and you nearly faint dead away.

He sheepishly admits that he’s been taking your panties to work, slipping them in his pocket and rubbing his fingers across the fabric whenever he feels like it. When you demand them back he hands them over, but every time you have sex a new pair goes missing.

You tease him, questioning his gentleman status. He grumbles something half-hearted before sinking to his knees and hoisting you onto the counter, determined to get another pair of panties to replace the ones you took.

just a little idea I had

[k1tk4ttt]

"not all men" you're right, clark kent would never do this

[ghostlychel69]

imagine: the concept of having kryptonite nail polish that turns clark with insane hyperspermia and a breeding kink into a whimpering subby mess, leading to a huge load being dumped into your overstretched cunt because it's too much and he gets off on it??? he's so noisy too ughh

pairing: f!reader x corenswet!clark kent

cw/genres:breeding kink, hyperspermia, sub!clark, misuse of kryptonite

wc: 720

a/n: cute little shitpost i wrote in the early morning on Christmas Day, anyways im back whores happy holidays xoxo

many people were aware of Superman. a superpowered extraterrestrial with virtually world-ending capabilities who only harnessed his powers for the benefit of humanity. the iconic navy and burgundy colours were practically inescapable in everyday society.

but what people weren't aware of was the fact that the dominating warrior of earth known as superman was all but a persona.

you knew this to be very true due to the sight before you.

clark kent, the man behind the hero Superman, perched on top of your figure as pink splotches dusted his tear-streaked cheeks. fat unshed tears clumped his long lashes together as he whimpered and whined, continuing to rut into your tight, sopping pussy.

"pleasee" clark hiccuped as his hips continued to drill into you.

"please what clarkie?" you teased, a small smirk ghosting your lips, causing him to whine.

"please," he whispered as his hips faltered his bruising pace slightly ", touch me"

you gazed into his azure orbs for a fleeting second, taking in his dishevelled exterior, revelling in the power you had to make the man of steel be at your mercy.

he looked adorable.

giving in, you strategically dragged your freshly specially manicured nails down clark's broad back. microdoses of kryptonite dusting sparkling under the dim lighting.

the effects were immediate as clark reacted not a second later.

"FUH- GOLLY", clark yelped as he rammed his pelvis into yours, jolting you up the bed as he shoved the entitety of his length into you, eliciting a loud moan from you as your pussy stretched open in a weak attempt to adjust to the size.

you subconsciously dug your nails into his skin, causing clark to let out a pained whine as he adjusted your position on your shared bed, pulling you down and folding you into a mating press. sinking himself all the more deeper into your warm cunt.

"sorry- s-so sorry— need to-" clark blabbered as he thrusted into you, spongy mushroom tip assaulting your cervix, causing you to squeal as his eyes rolled back.

"my pussy- mine. all mine," clark blabbered as he moulded your bodies impossibly closer. to be in maximum proximity, he'd fuse with you if he could honestly.

"fuck yes clark take it, s'all yours, baby," you goaded as you felt him pull out so only his tip remained inside you before harshly thrusting back in with a loud groan. your eyes rolled to the back of your head due to the delicious stretch.

you absolutely adored how vocal clark got during sex, but you knew he could be louder for you.

you dug your nails as hard as you physically could into clark's back as a feeble attempt to draw blood.

"give me your cum baby", you whined, "pump it deep inside my cunt."

clark paused all his ministrations before letting out a small whimper, which was automatically followed by a loud groan and a cry as he processed exactly what you said, his face screwing in pleasure. he loved how vulgar you were during sex, even if he'd never openly admit it.

his large hands encircled your hips as he dragged you down the bed, colossal thighs smushed against your own as a hand ascended to circle your neck.

"hnngh take it– fucking t-take this cock", clark stammered as he began teetering dangerously close to the edge. the coil in his stomach being pulled taut.

"g-gonna cum in you", clark whined as his thrusts began to lose coordination due to the way your walls fluttered around his ultrasensitive tip. your eyes began to cross at the way his big breeder balls continued to slap against your taint and lower pussy repeatedly causing you to fantasise about him releasing all that built-up fluid in you.

"YESS FUCK CLARK", you yelled as you felt the intensity of his orgasm hit you right on as an obscene amount of cum flooded your pussy, causing you to cry out as it triggered you to squirt all over clark's cock.

soon after clark had emptied his balls within you, he collapsed on top of you, letting out a quiet whimper and a shudder as you both lay in utter bliss.

"so…" clark began awkwardly, "these nails, huh?"

it was safe to say you were never getting ordinary acrylics done again.

[zipzapfrogboy]

Feeling evil lately

I need to rewatch Superman

[smallvillesweetie]

NSFW - clark kent • afab reader - other than that unspecific reader

now there aren’t enough people divulging into how alien clark is and i need to change that…

adult content littered into these thoughts this is also afab! reader but other than that unspecific

okay (another) disclaimer

clark is a subhuman, kryptonians are descended from humans, but if i remember correctly it was very common to genetically engineer your children on krypton so technically kryptonians are just a more developed human species - however clark or shall we say kal el was carried to term organically but that doesn’t hinder his alien anatomy

some of these thoughts are pulled directly from canon but most of them are being pulled from my very horny brain :)

firstly it is canon that clark’s glasses are hypno-glasses and that ‘he had crafted the lens of his glasses using Kryptonian plexiglass from the rocket that brought him to Earth’ which is why they are so thick - i think that they would look like more like bottle glasses than anything

it is widely accepted that clark and superman would have a uncanny valley feel about them - i mean he is an alien so if you were gonna get that feeling off of anyone it would be from the friendly extraterrestrial hero

but not only would you get a vibe i think once you were quite close with clark and the glasses that prohibited you from really SEEING anything…off…about him i think that there would be a few things that you would begin to notice like how clark’s eyes may dilate more than a normal humans would when he would look at you or talk about his interests, often looking almost completely black, like a wet seal or a puppy :( or that they would flicker almost like nystagmus, but voluntarily - constantly looking… watching… analysing, taking in every. single. detail… i can imagine the eye contact during sex would be the most captivating thing ever, forehead to forehead just completely lost in his beautiful eyes

i also think that clark would have a greater lung capacity so he wouldn’t need to breathe as much as he gets most of his energy from the sun so i think he would be a very intense kissing partner, sometimes even stealing your breath from you leaving you heaving (god if u were asthmatic you would need to have your inhaler CLOSE BY)

i think clark would do it completely unconsciously and would feel bad about it, i can see him just getting soooo lost in your kisses and the way you taste :( hes just a big alien boy doing his best

there is a plus to him having such a great lung capacity and that is that he would be a pussy eating machine - his lung capacity paired with his super stamina means that he could eat you for hours completely uninterrupted… the overstimulation would be so delicious

speaking of being delicious i think that clark would have the most beautiful cock, like ever just point blank

i can see both arguments to if clark is uncut or not, on one hand clark is kryptonian and they were fond of genetic editing so maybe they got rid of foreskin completely lmao for ‘hygienic’ reasons but on the other hand maybe they just didn’t care i’m undecided but i do know that when clark came to earth if he came uncut there was nothing that was gonna circumcise him

i think i am an uncut clark truther, i am also really into the idea of pincers on his cock (which is technically canon - i know some of you freaks have seen the comic clip going around twitter and here ;) i love the idea of like ridges or bumps on his cock too solely for pleasure - we know that kryptonians didn’t have children naturally so perhaps sex was just a solely pleasurable act

i also love the idea of clark having hyperspermia (nerd speak for bucket loads of cum coming from his balls) i won’t try and put a canonical spin on this one people this is purely a self service because i am a cum freak i think it is the hottest thing…those creampies would go crazy…

this post was wayyyy longer than expected if anyone wants me to expand on any of these thoughts i will find the power to do so

[ghostlychel69]

imagine: clark becomes so obsessed with your tits he secretly drugs you so you start producing milk.

pairing: gn!reader x obsessed!david corenswet clark kent

cw/genres: gender neutral reader that has breasts they just do okay shut your pie hole, nipple play, nipple sucking, lactation kink, obsessive Clark Kent, drugging, gn!reader, premature ejactulation, clark kent x gn!reader, no use of y/n

wc: 990

a/n: hi guys i tried to make this as like genderly ambiguous as possible sorry i probs flopped lmao also this was suppose to be part of my kinktober series but ive decided i wont be participating because cba and if i wanna write horny shit about Clark Kent why should i be subjected to a month? i'll still use my kinktober prompts for imagines i have planned but it won't be daily uploads within october more likely just frequent hehe anyway hope you guys enjoy if you want feel free to send prompts/requests and as always, likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 (p!link at end)

clark was obsessed with your tits, diligently so. this infatuation had developed into a type of clinginess that you had never seen within him before, and you honestly couldn't even pinpoint when it started.

the two of you could be seated in the living room, and clark would slowly and subtly position his body closer to you so that he could discreetly sneak an arm around you.

and if he'd pull you onto his lap, you would just assume he wanted closer proximity towards you. until this notion would be disregarded the second you felt his familiar large hands sneak underneath your shirt so he could fondle your breasts.

"seriously, clark?"

"pleasee just let me, baby? just this once?" clark would whine, claiming that fondling your tits relieved his stress, but you knew the truth, he was simply just a pervert.

this was further solidified in the way he would push you into the supply closet mid-workday just to descend to his knees whilst he pushed your figure against the closet wall, large hands already unbuttoning your shirt.

"clark, what's with you?" you seethed, "we're on the clock," you emphasised in a hushed, embarrassed tone.

"just a little stressed, please, baby. can i have this, just this once?" he guilted you with the same lie he'd use every time, 'just this once', hands already itching to pull down your bra. reluctantly, you nodded your head and immediately felt the way his hot mouth latched onto your erect nipple.

you cradled his head as he suctioned as if secretly wishing you would produce milk. the way he'd suck your nipple into his mouth whilst twisting your other neglected one taut had you reaching a hand into his curly mane of hair as you threw your head back in ecstasy, tugging on the curled strands.

that was just one instant where clark had overstepped boundaries when it came to your tits.

but now, in this moment of time, the boundary was damn near non-existent.

clark had become enthralled with the idea of you being able to produce milk from your tits; the thought alone had him salivating.

in his research to make this a reality, he had come across a certain drug that would stimulate milk production.

this caused a pool of heat to creep across his lower abdomen. clark knew that you would protest this though, but he had urges and desires, and you didn't really have to know, did you?

he used this same logic to convince himself as he poured you a cup of coffee, slipping the drug in.

this regimen persisted for about a week or so, offering you drugged caffeinated beverages in the early hours of the morning when you needed them most until one fateful day, it occurred: you began to lactate.

you had complained to clark about how heavy and full your breasts had been feeling the entire week, whining about how the sensation of your now oversensitive nipples rubbing against your shirt was now extremely prominent.

clark acted oblivious, convincing you it was probably due to a shift in hormones or something. but when you had crawled into bed, needy for clark, practically whining once you lifted your shirt, begging him to suck on your sensitive nipples as you pawed at your full chest, he basically jumped at the opportunity.

his lips wrapped around your puffy nipple, sighing in bliss as he palmed the other.

this action had you reeling forward as you pushed his face deeper into your chest; the sensation of his mouth on you felt like nothing you had ever experienced previously, signified by your loud pornographic moans.

but when you felt a gush of liquid spill from your chest, you froze as clark pulled away from the nipple he was sucking, palm leaving your chest too as he looked down at the white liquid that now framed his palm.

"wait, clark—"

he swallowed the liquid that collected in his mouth.

the look in his eye could only be described as feral as he shoved his face into your nipple, eagerly sucking out as much of the sweet milk as he possibly could.

his head bobbed in back-and-forth motions as he harshly sucked on your nipple in search of more fluid.

"clarkk, j—just like thatt," you whined as you felt a gush of slick leave your nether regions.

the stimulation to your chest had you teetering on the edge of orgasm.

he reluctantly pulled away from your nipple, stretching the bud as much as he possibly could before releasing with a 'pop' before continuing his assault onto your other nipple, pushing his face into your chest to suck in more milk.

your hand cradled his head as you pulled on his curly strands, reeling at the pleasure he was supplying you.

at one particularly harsh suck, you felt the way your thighs spasmed as you came untouched, your body twitching against the mattress as clark continued to milk you the rest of the night.

—

when clark began bringing his own special kind of 'organic' milk to the office to add to his morning coffee, you flushed at the way his unrelenting stare would reach you across the bullpen, sipping on his creamy coffee that would often leave traces of its presence on his upper lip that he'd lick away with a flick of his tongue, eyes still trained on you.

this would make you shiver as clark ushered you into the same dingy supply closet when he yearned for the liquid, straight from the source.

in the coming months, clark became obsessed with milking you, finding any excuse to do so, his favourite being that he was parched and your milk would provide the most amount of minerals and vitamins to sustain his large Kryptonian body.

you knew this was complete and utter bullshit, but you still let him suckle on your chest as he fell asleep, indulging in his newfound obsession.

a/n: yes i will write a pt2 where the reverse situation occurs for clark i'm not a monster #guyswithtitsneedlovetoo also here’s a random p!link i think suits the vibe lol clark would be more rough imo according to the imagine tho (european n uk babes like me use proton vpn and switch to usa to access nsfw twt xox)

divider by @/cafekitsune

[hotchhner]

wake up. superman to your right. ultraman to your left. they bring you breakfast in bed. they get fussy over who gets your attention. you can’t chose cause they’re both beautiful. they’re okay with it. CHALLENGERS.

[ghostlychel69]

diva recognises diva!!!

[ghostlychel69]

daddy's home.

summary: clark discovers he has a raging daddy kink.

pairing: dom!daddy!corenswet!clark kent x sub!f!reader 18+

cw/genres: smut, daddy kink, ddlgesque dynamics??, needy clark kent, use of 'good girl', breeding kink, praise kink, fauxcest, intense nipple play, use of 'dad/daddy', cumming premature, raw sex (wrap b4 u tap) | wc: 1.8k

a/n: likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. enjoy!<3

Clark Kent was undergoing some serious turmoil. for the past week or so he had been completely blindsided by a certain name you had referred to him during sex.

this had consumed him so much so that folks at the Daily Planet were beginning to pick up on his strange ministrations due to his unusually reserved behaviour and him seemingly being on autopilot, just cruising by until it was time to clock out.

this was due to the fact he had a singular moment replaying in his head on a continuous loop.

your nails dug into clark's bare back as a thin sheen of sweat enveloped both of your bodies. you felt his stupidly large cock pound into your slick cunt. he was deep, impossibly so. the way his bulbous tip kissed your cervix had you reaching new highs of pleasure that were previously unbeknownst to you.

you were babbling. your speech slurred as your half-lidded, glazed-over eyes rolled to the back of your head. the image had clark groaning as he continued his stupefying pace.

and then he heard it.

in the midst of your incoherent mewling, his super hearing picked up on the faintest of mutterings.

"d—daadd p-pleasee—" you slurred as you dug the heel of your foot into his muscular lower back, forcing him so deep you could make out the imprint of him in your guts if you were to glance down.

your eyes immediately shot open after you heard clark choke on his own spit, his pace faltering.

the look of dread on your face was a clear indication that you had just processed what you had said.

"fuck, i didn't mean to— god, this is fucking embarrassing. i-i'm so sorry. i just—"

you felt a wave of hot fluid being pumped into your pussy as he painted the crevice of your cunt's walls in white.

he let out a slightly strangled, embarrassed groan as his hips stuttered.

"did you just ... cum prematurely?"

he really hoped that you'd forget about this ordeal if he fucked you silly a couple more times before passing out, and that would be the end of it.

but of course, it wasn't.

clark had discovered something about himself that night.

he knew that referring to your significant other as 'daddy' was quite common, though slightly taboo due to its implications; he understood why people did it. but something about the way you mewled the word 'dad' so lewdly. how you forced yourself to look up at him due to the way his frame towered over your smaller one, the look of desperation and pleasure as tears clouded your vision.

it didn't help that clark had a pre-established overprotective and slightly possessive nature about him when it came to you. he wanted to be that strong male figure in your life, especially with the knowledge of your emotionally absent father. he was well versed in the psychology of it all, in the way it was typically a sign of psychological regression in a bid to make an individual feel a sense of protection and security.

he felt his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he bit it softly. he was currently situated in the living room on the couch with you by his side as your attention was on your favourite childhood cartoon series.

clark was continuously glancing at the screen and you as your body that was curled into his side vibrated with laughter at the corniest of jokes.

there was something so intimate about the way you allowed yourself to immerse yourself in the series; despite it very clearly being a childhood cartoon, you defended the series with your life. but clark liked the way you felt comfortable enough to be unabashedly yourself with him, even going as far as to have laughing fits whenever the characters on screen had some dumb witty banter that he didn't understand amongst themselves.

he felt a strong urge to protect you from everything. shielding you away from the world to keep you all for himself.

"y/n?"

"hmm?" you hummed absentmindedly, eyes still glued to the screen.

"c'mere a sec," clark beckoned as he lightly tapped his lap, legs spreading to accommodate you.

and without missing a beat, you crawled into his lap; strong arms encircled your waist as your back was pulled flush to clark's chest.

contrary to popular belief, you were the submissive one in your relationship. outsiders were quick to assume that you wore the pants in the relationship due to the dynamic between you two, even going as far as to call you mean as you constantly toyed with the gentle giant, but in reality, clark's awkwardness and your outgoing personality didn't quite represent your sex life at all; if anything, it was more of a 70/30 split, where clark was a dominant service top a majority of the time but was submissive whenever you felt like topping.

clark was pulled from his thoughts as he felt the thin fabric you called shorts do nothing as your ass cheeks unintentionally began to sandwich his half-hard cock.

clark pulled you impossibly closer to him as he leaned down, breath fanning the shell of your ear; he wanted to test the waters for a change.

"you're such a good girl for me, sweetheart."

your spine went rigid as you let out a muted sound due to your voice hitching in your throat.

your breath stuttered. surely you misheard?

"my good girl," clark reaffirmed with a shallow roll of his hips into your heat.

your hand shot down in a feeble attempt to grab hold of his strong thigh; you whimpered as your head hung as embarrassment overtook you due to the way arousal spread throughout your lower region in a humiliatingly short amount of time.

"c-clark, what are you—"

"just let daddy take care of you, hm?" he hummed as his large hands snuck underneath your shirt, groping your tits in his hands. his fingers came up to twist and pull at your hardening nipples as you groaned.

clark repositioned you on the couch so that he straddled your figure that lay beneath him. his hands roamed your body as your top was pulled upwards, bunching at your collar so his mouth could descend onto your exposed nipple as he harshly sucked the bud into his hot mouth, causing you to mewl.

the way clark always paid special attention to your oversensitive nipples had you throwing your head back as an unbusy hand was placed onto your neglected tit as he began to tug and twist at that nipple too.

he pushed his face further into your flesh as his mouth suctioned hard before pulling his head back, lips still latched onto your nipple, allowing for a loud moan to reverberate throughout your being before letting go with a soft 'pop'.

his hands slid down to your hips and clamped down in a damn near bruising grip as he rutted his hard cock into you.

"clarkk, what's got you s-so worked up?" you breathed out airily.

"gosh, I need you, baby. ever since you called me 'Dad', I haven't been myself; I've been in a daze. can only think about protecting you, keeping you safe, having you by my side, all mine, my sweet girl." clark rambled as he pushed his face into the crook of your neck.

"would you let me?" clark muttered so quietly you almost didn't pick it up.

"let you ... wha—?"

"take care of you, handle all responsibilities and be there to assist and guide you, kind of like, like a dad," clark huffed meekly.

"s—sure ... okay," you agreed softly as you felt clark pull you in closer by the nape of your neck.

"my little angel," he breathed against your lips before pulling you into a heated kiss, hips refusing to seize the grinding motion that he insisted on conducting.

"shit, so sorry, princess. I—I can't; I need t'feel you." clark stammered before you could process that he had removed both of your bottoms and was currently positioning his flushed tip at your impossibly wet hole.

with a single motion, he sank to the hilt with a strangled moan.

"fuuuck, you're so deep, daddy," you whined as you felt clark lift a leg up to perch on his shoulder so he could reach impossibly deeper. his pace escalated to a mind-numbing speed at the term.

"that's right, baby, you feel me, don't you?" he stated as his tip continuously kissed your cervix "riiight, here." he emphasised with a large hand that pressed down on the very prominent bulge that his cock indented across your lower abdomen.

your walls clamp down around his length at the action as you squeal in pleasure.

"my little girl takes me soo well, doesn't she?"

you were sure you were losing your mind. his punishing pace wasn't letting up, and the way he addressed you in a way that could almost be labelled as patronising if it wasn't for the mere fact that this was Clark Kent made you feel as though you were falling apart much earlier than you usually do.

"j—jeez, i caan't," you stammered.

"what's that? of course you can, baby; you're taking me right now. such a good girl."

the words of affirmation had your pussy clenching down on top of clark hard on whilst you could only moan louder.

"gosh, n-not gonna last if you clamp down on me like that," clark whimpered as his hips stuttered, but he quickly angled them so that they were assaulting that spongy spot deep within your walls that had your toes curling and eyes crossing.

"daaad, right there I'm g-gonna—" you tried warning clark but he only spurred you on by using his x-ray vision to locate the spot and press down on it externally using the palm of his hand.

this action caused you to squirt out a geyser of slick, drenching his cock in the process.

clarks thrusts began to lose their rhythm soon after the action.

"h-hold still, baby, gonna knock this pussy up. s-stop squirming," clark whined as he pinned your overstimulated figure down using only one hand before you felt him flood your insides with an impossible amount of cum with a feral groan.

he collapsed on top of you soon after, his large body sandwiching you into the plush couch whilst his balls were still pressed flush into your hole as he refused to pull out.

his hand ascended as he stroked the top of your head, alternating with patting too.

"such a good girl f'me," he mumbled tiredly.

"i promise i'll take care of everything from now on, okay?"

the statement confused you slightly, as you had always thought that clark already took care of so much in your relationship, but you nodded your head regardless, sighing in content.

clark planned to spoil his sweet girl absolutely rotten.

divider by @/cafekitsune

a/n: i might make a pt2 explaining their new found dynamic and different ways clark takes care of y/n e.g. dressing her up, feeding her, taking responsibility and stuff etc but idk oops

[barnesdreamcatcher]

Ok, so I read your fic where Clark helped a drunk reader get off and he was all sweet and helpful...

Could you do a red!Kryptonite Clark with drunk!reader? Like, she goes out, gets drunk, and superman saves her? But superman just got done with an attack that leaves him under the effects of red kryptonite?

I love your works so much!

You belong to me

clark kent x f!reader

cw: brief nausea in the beginning, red kryptonite!clark, smut (mdni, 18+), dubcon/noncon (heavy intoxication), unprotected p in v, creampie, overstimulation, breeding kink, dacryphilia

wc: 2k

a/n: thank you so much for your request!!! i hope you don’t mind that i took some liberties by changing it to an established relationship instead I wasn’t quite sure what to label this, but I’m gonna say it: this is not consensual sex

now playing: House of Balloons / Glass Table Girls – The Weeknd

The world tilted a little when you stepped out of the bar, light turning into fuzzy spots. You had definitely seen the bottom of the glass a little too often tonight.

With shaky fingers you dialed Clark’s number – once, twice, three times. Every single time you were sent to voicemail, the sweet voice of your boyfriend informing you that he was currently not available but would call you back. 

If your head was a little clearer, you would have made sure to check the news for any recent attacks on Metropolis but your jaw throbbed and you already felt the saliva collecting on your tongue, a fair warning sign that it would be best for you to be in the vicinity of a bathroom right now. No clear thought made it through your synapses tonight. The cobblestone was cold but dry, so you sat down, watching the cars pass by in a blur and rested your forehead on your crossed arms. The nausea thankfully died down a little but you kept your head buried to make sure it stayed that way.

Clark had reminded you countless times to stay vigilant, especially alone and drunk at night, but the alcohol currently buzzing through your system seemingly replaced every single brain cell of yours with cotton. Which is why you missed the text from your boyfriend.

‘Go to Lois. Lock doors. Not myself right now.’

Instead, you spent the next fifteen minutes fighting off any remaining dizziness before you finally decided to call an Uber.  You didn’t get very far with that as a dark shadow suddenly loomed over you. With glassy eyes, you peered up and relief flooded your veins when you saw Clark landing just a few feet away from you. 

Your brain didn’t immediately catch up to his state; sweat slicked his face, running down his temples and drenching his hair line. A faint red hue tinted his skin, like crimson light was traveling through his body.  All you saw in that moment was your boyfriend finally picking you up. You didn’t pay any mind to how he had known where you were.

“Claaaark,” you greeted him giddily, jumping up from the pavement and stumbling towards him. The second his hands landed on your upper arms to steady you, you felt the heat radiating from his skin. “You’re hot,” you chuckled drunkenly, leaning into his embrace.

He didn’t reply, just tightened his grip around you and breathed in deeply.

“Missed you,” you mumbled into his chest and only once you tried to fist a little bit of the material covering him, you realized what he was wearing.

“Baby, careful!” you called out (very much not discreetly), “You’re still wearing your suit.”

Clark pushed you away a little to face you and you stared up at him. His eyes were glassy, his chest expanding rapidly like he was struggling to catch his breath.

“Couldn’t change,” he panted, “Had to see you. I can’t stop- I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, baby.”

His hands wandered across your back to cup your ass, squeezing almost painfully. A high-pitched, startled yelp escaped your throat. 

He usually wasn’t much of a PDA fan save for a few gentle kisses or a warm palm on the small of your back. 

“We gotta get you away or everyone will see,” you slurred when you recovered from his unexpected gesture. His fingers still dug into the flesh of your backside when he nodded dizzyingly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “We should get outta here.”

Suddenly, the world shifted. You shrieked in horror when you realized that your feet weren’t touching the ground anymore and cold air whipped your face.  Clark’s warm body was pressed against you as he flew through the night sky of Metropolis, keeping you in place with his strong arms. The flight was less than a minute but with your uneasy stomach, it might as well have been an hour. 

You closed your eyes, a few tears escaping because of the strong wind up there, and you buried your face in his chest.

Only once the floor under you became solid again did you dare to peer up at him through heavy lashes. You were at Clark’s apartment, the familiar smell and sights enveloping you like a blanket of comfort. 

“Clark!” you squeaked accusingly, “You should’ve warned me!”

“’m sorry, baby, but I couldn’t wait,” he murmured, picking you up again. His hands went back to your ass, slipping underneath the material of your dress.  “I need you so bad,” he confessed, an appetite you had never seen before reflecting in his eyes. Clark gently pushed you down onto the couch, feverishly mouthing at your neck. At the same time, his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and slid them off in one go.

A mix of fatigue, drunkenness and arousal made it hard to think, along with his digits slowly tracing the skin where your pelvis and leg met. “Lemme take this off, yeah?” he muttered while already stripping off your dress. Without it, you were left completely bare, sunken in the cushions of couch.

His breathing grew more ragged as Clark took you in and when you glanced up at him, you thought you were hallucinating for a few moments. The veins across his arms and up his neck were bulging, a faint red tinted energy rippling through his body.

“Clark?” you questioned cautiously, crossing your arms in front of your chest to cover yourself, “What’s going on with you?”

He met your eyes, his own wild and hungry.  “Nothing,” he replied breathlessly, “I’ve never felt better. But I want you so much, honey. Don’t hide away from me.”

He reached out and pried your arms away, then attacked your sternum with hot, wet kisses. His tongue slipped out, dragging up between the valley of your breasts before his mouth enclosed one of your nipples. Pure pleasure made your brain go fuzzy enough that you forgot about the strange things happening to Clark for a few seconds. A sharp tug of his teeth around your pebbled nub made you gasp out, the pain slowly easing when he went back to sucking.

“Clark,” you whispered, “Are- oh-,” you didn’t get very far with your question as he pressed his crotch against your core. 

“Feel what you do to me, baby?” he asked, grinding into you, “I need to – fuck – I need you. Now.”

Your eyes almost fell out of your head as the curse left his mouth. He never cussed.  But you were too drunk to arrive at any conclusion about his behavior and even if you had wanted to, getting him to stop would have been impossible right then. You knew that the second his elbows came to rest at either side of your head, his body pressing yours down while he rutted against you. 

He quickly shed his clothes, revealing his flushed, leaking cock, twitching with excitement and need.  “Need to be in you, my sweet girl,” he rumbled against the shell of your ear before kissing a trail of sloppy kisses down the column of your throat. You swallowed hard as he smeared his tip through your folds to collect your slick. Usually he would spend a good amount of time preparing you, molding you to his shape in order not to hurt you but right now, you could practically feel the urgency with which he spread you buzzing off of him. 

“Lemme in, hmm?” he drawled and pushed inside, groaning as your velvety walls enveloped him. The stretch stole your breath, your nails digging into his shoulders while you tried to relax your muscles around him. 

“Clark, slow down, please,” you whined as he immediately started rutting into you, the back of your head colliding with the plush of the couch. He moaned loudly and you weren’t sure if he had even heard your plea.  His length disappeared into your heat mercilessly, his spongy head hitting one specific gummy spot in you again and again. The fullness, the mix of pleasure and pain, it all had your eyes rolling back and hands stumbling for purchase as he fucked you so deep you feared for the sofa’s integrity. 

“Clark!” you yelped again, “Please, just- slow down.”

“I can’t, baby,” he garbled out in response, his hips snapping against yours, “You feel so good, so warm and wet and tight – I can’t stop. Just take it, please, you – ugh – you always take it so well. My good girl.”

You were almost sure he was in your guts, making you whimper with every roll of his pelvis. Drops of spit landed on your face when his lips parted, breath expelled in desperate pants.  “Oh f-fuck, baby,” he groaned, “Always make me feel so good.”

The praise mixed with his roughness had your tummy fluttering and when he circled two fingers across your clit, your back arched towards him, allowing him to slip even deeper. A cry of blinding hot pleasure spilled from your lips while tears pricked in the corners of your eyes when his tip hit your cervix.

“Yes – shit – oh god, sweetheart,” Clark blabbered while he grabbed your waist, his fingers pressing deep enough to surely leave a set of prints behind. He manhandled you over his cock, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing through the room. 

Heat built in your lower belly, slowly creeping through the rest of your body as your orgasm approached. He felt your walls fluttering around him, sucking him in further into your wetness. 

“You gonna cum f’me, hm?” he mumbled and sucked on the skin along your collarbone, “Be a good girl and cum.”

Your whole body tightened as you clenched around his cock when the knot at your center finally unraveled and your juices sprayed. The release pushed the oxygen out of your lungs, a breathless, pitiful sound escaping your throat when you came. 

He never eased his rhythm, just continued to thrust into you while the tears that had built on your waterline spilled over your cheeks.

“Too much,” you managed to gasp but it went unheard. Instead, he kept pounding into you and your clit burned with every drag of his fingers.  “Clark, I can’t-,” you begged but he just shook his head. 

“No, you can,” he insisted, applying even more pressure, “Need to feel you milk me. Gonna put my babies in you, how ‘bout that?”

The pure agony from his constant stimulation made it impossible to answer, his digits continuing to rub you raw even as you twitched away. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he went on, “Being all round and swollen. And I’m the one who’ll make sure of that.” A particularly harsh roll of his hips punctuated that sentence, triggering your second orgasm in less than a minute.  It hurt so good, dark spots crept along your vision as you clamped down on his cock. 

“Oh- ugh!” Clark buried himself to the hilt, his tip violently hitting your cervix and then you felt the rush of liquid heat painting your insides an iridescent white.  He twitched and spasmed inside of you, a seemingly never-ending supply of cum filling you up until it leaked out of your cunt before he even pulled out. 

When he finally stopped cumming, he withdrew with a hiss. The sudden emptiness made you shiver, adrenaline dropping and your body immediately began to register the soreness he had left behind in you. 

You whimpered weakly when he suddenly plunged two of his fingers into your wet heat, stuffing you again. In an attempt to escape the overstimulation, you flinched away but he held you in place.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, concentration knitting his brows together, “Need to make sure that it sticks.” He licked his lips and glanced down at you. “Better yet, let’s go again. You’re not leavin’ here until you’re carrying my child.”

❤︎ just a quick reminder that the best way to support authors on here is to comment and reblog ❤︎ ☆ find my masterlist here ☆

[ghostlychel69]

[remotewatch]

all the Clark x reader dubcon or noncon I can find has him as the aggressor… what is this cavernous gap in the market…

the ideas practically write themselves but unfortunately they do not do so literally

[ghostlychel69]

at your mercy.

summary: aggressively babytrapping poor subby clark kent who just whines and takes it like a good boy wc: 1.2k

pairing: david corenswet!clark kent x f!reader

cw/genres: perv dom!reader x sub!clark, reader is a meanie, reader obsessed with kryptonian biology, dacraphilliya, sounding, cock ring, delayed orgasms, overstimualtion, dubcon, forced breeding, marathon sex

a/n: pray for me xoxo likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

you and clark had started dating a couple of months ago, and as your relationship developed, so did his unrelenting admiration for you, which, naturally, over time, led to the two of you having sexual relations with one another.

now, you had discovered Clark Kent's identity as Superman a couple of weeks prior, and since then clark, had noticed a dramatic shift in your behaviour.

you had become much more curious and invested in the Kryptonian aspect of him, which clark didn't mind at all and even tried his best to indulge and quench your curiosity to the best of his ability.

but somewhere along the line, something that initially started off as innocent as you asking him about the multitude of abilities that he harboured took an unfamiliar twist once you two had become sexually active.

clark had tried to find justification for this shift in behaviour, chalking it up to the fact that you had mentioned once in passing how you had unrestricted internet access from a young age and how that had definitely had an effect on your growth and development, but the truth of the matter was in plain sight.

you were a pervert.

in hindsight, this revelation should've boded well with clark considering the fact that his Kryptonian biology played a large role in his increased sexual libido as well as enhanced stamina, allowing him to last for hours at a time, not even displaying a hint of fatigue.

this had previously been an issue in past relationships for clark as his partners found his infinite libido and stamina to be somewhat gruelling, as they would be sexually satisfied much earlier in the session than clark, much to his dismay.

this would often lead to him being sexually unsatisfied, so he would resort to either masturbation or a cold shower to try to quench the remainder of his thirst.

but ever since you had found out about his alien origin as well as how the awkward 6'4" nerd could bestow upon you the most mind-numbing, earth-shattering sex of your life, he hadn't known a day of rest since.

this was evident in the way you had forced what had to have been the 8th orgasm out of the whining male that night.

well, what should have been.

the fact that he had a cock ring wrapped around the base of his dick delaying his orgasms had the man falling apart at the seams mentally and physically.

"fuuuuck, puh—please. c—can't, nggh," clark stammered, drool escaping his swollen lips. you looked up at him through your lashes as your thighs straddled the expanse of his lower region.

"hm? what was that?" you taunted, a condescending glint in your eye as you inched the metal rod further into his urethra, an innocent look on your face as a barrage of tears cascaded down his flushed face, eyebrows pinched in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

he hated the way how you maintained that innocent facade, the same one you had when you greeted his friends and co-workers as they remained blissfully unaware of your perverse ministrations behind closed doors.

the only distinguishable differing detail being the dark glint in your eye.

"m-mercyy,." he slurred, trying his very hardest to maintain a look of conviction on his face so you knew he was serious, but it was overshadowed by the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy.

"you want me to take it out, clarkie?"

that nickname...he knew you only called him that when taunting him.

he should've known better.

he nodded instantly, damp curls jerking at the intensity of the action.

a smirk graced your face as you retracted the metal rod in a single motion, which had clark's entire body jerk forward following the movement. violent waves of twitching rocked his whole body as he teetered on the edge of orgasm but was inevitably denied due to the cock ring that still encircled his stupidly big cock.

he began to let out a cry but was cut off with a choke and a gasp as you positioned your cunt on top of his angry red cock, sinking down with a low gasp almost instantly as you swallowed down inch after consecutive inch.

"g—gosh," he groaned as his eyes crossed. but once you had taken him to the hilt, you stopped all movement.

"y/nnn?" clark whined as a pout bestowed his fucked-out features.

his words hung in the air as you reached down, unclasping the ring, causing a loud moan to wreck through clark as the relief from being released from the contraption washed over him.

but he was cut off once more as you began to fuck yourself on his cock.

the unrelenting pace that you had set up, combined with the way your tight walls gripped his length, suctioning him even further into your slick heat, had him mewling as he blinked away the tears that spilt from his eyes.

"shiiiit, s—low downn," clark choked as you thrust yourself up and down his cock.

you forced his upper half to sit up, his back flush against the bed frame as you encircled your arms around his shoulders, causing your chests to compress against one another, nipples hardening as they rubbed against each other.

you leaned your head down as you whispered into the shell of his ear.

"you're gonna breed this pussy till I've milked you dry," you emphasised with a squeeze of your walls.

clark's eyes shot open in an instant as he slightly jerked forward, physically taken aback by your lewd choice of words.

"gonna have your Kryptonian babies, clarkie" you moaned.

clark knew you had become intrigued with the notion that he wasn't human, but not to this extent. he also knew that he loved you dearly but was unsure about the prospect of having children at this moment in time, especially since you two had only been dating for some months.

it was safe to say, clark was currently terrified.

"y—you don't mean that," clark uttered, voice slightly increasing in octave as he hitched.

you moaned shamelessly as you continued shoving inches of him further into yourself as you used him, milking him for all that he was worth whilst maintaining eye contact, the glint in your eye unwavering.

clark's hands desperately clambered to your hips in a futile attempt to at least slow you down, but your hands only followed his, sitting atop his own to further secure his grip as you threw your head back.

"y-y/n, y-you're being meann," clark cried as he felt his orgasm approach at an unforeseeable pace.

"am i? am i being mean, clark?"

the unreadable expression on your face paired with your unrelenting hips evoked a delicious feeling of fear and ecstasy from clark as his eyes rolled to the back of his head as his entire body began to twitch, ropes and ropes of cum shooting from his overstimulated cock as he pumped his seed into your womb, cockhead flush to your cervix.

the sensation lasted for a full minute as violent jerks and jitters wrecked clark's body, causing him to blurt incoherent cries and pleas as he stammered fucked-out 'thank you's and 'love you's.

once the vibrations had ceased, he was left limp in the bed, lust-clouded eyes gazing up at you before growing heavy from exhaustion.

but within his hazy mind, he noticed how the incessant rocking of your hips had started back up again once more.

"that all you got, clarkie?" you taunted.

shit.

a/n: this is like 99% self indulgent oops, anyway mostly smut bc i need some practice yikes

divider by @/cafekitsune

[angelickks]

INSIDE, TELL ME, IS IT INSIDE?

eighteen plus, minors do not interact!!

summ. you can't get enough of your kryptonian boyfriend's cum

pairing corenswet!superman x gf!reader

angel's notes based on this ask! i loooooved this (gif not mine)

SWEET. UNDENIABLY GENEROUS. AND JUST SO GOSH DARN PERFECT

All words Clark has used to describe you—and it wasn’t even the half of it.

Every praise he gave you carried the weight of truth, the warmth of a man who meant every syllable with his whole heart. He admired everything: the way your drive never faltered when you set your sights on something, the quiet determination stitched into the way you carried yourself, the softness you never once confused for weakness.

And Lord, had Ma and Pa Kent heard it all. They’d endured every ramble of his, the kind that started with your smile and ended with a dreamy sigh; they’d caught every dazed grin when he let your name slip into a story that didn’t need it. Lovesick, head to toe—that was Clark when it came to you, and he never bothered to hide it.

Small polaroids of the two of you are pinned to his bulletin board right beside his “to-do” lists—reminders of what really matters tucked in with the mundane. A framed photo sits proudly on his desk from his last birthday, the one where you and Ma Kent are laughing as you smear a streak of homemade buttercream across his cheek, his grin wide enough to split the frame as his eyes shine while they’re on you. And then there are the notes—those little scraps of your handwriting you sneak into his bag with lunch—collected and tucked neatly into a pocket of his agenda, kept as carefully as if they were treasures.

His sweet girl.

Clark wasn’t the only one to see it—everyone in your shared circle adored you. You soaked up affection without even trying, always so warm, so endlessly loved. And he agreed, you deserved every bit of it. If anything, watching people dote on you only made him prouder to be the one you went home with, the one you called yours.

But what no one else knew—what no one could even begin to imagine—was how his sweet, darling girl has the insatiable need to bounce on his stupidly big cock until your thighs shook and your pussy was pumped impossibly full with his cum.

How your sweetness turned shameless the second the bedroom door shut behind you—how you’d sink down onto him with greedy little whimpers, taking every inch of him even when your walls clenched around him like you couldn’t possibly stretch any further.

You’d ride him raw, nails scratching down his chest, spit dripping from your swollen lips as you moaned for more, for deeper. You’d grind down until his cock pressed hard against your cervix, until you were sobbing from the fullness, and still it wasn’t enough. Not until he was spilling into you—thick, hot, endless—until you felt his cum gush out around him and make a creamy ring around the base of his length, practically dripping down your thighs, soaking the sheets beneath you.

You wouldn't give up until you were completely burnt out and even then, Clark learned that you practically drooled when he pumped it right back in with short little thrusts as your eyes lulled shut.

And the filthiest part? You never let him pull out. Not once. Even when you were too sensitive to move, trembling and whimpering, you’d whine into his ear—“mmf inside, Clark…d-don’t pull out”—and he’d stay buried, cock twitching, giving you every last drop.

Because for all your sweetness, all your perfection, what really soothed you—what really calmed that greedy, aching need inside you—was knowing you had every ounce of his cum right where you wanted it.

Because how could he deny you? His sweet girl, the one he adored beyond reason, begging for more of him like he was the only thing in the world that could soothe you. He’d hold you close, his big hands steadying your shivering body as he stayed buried inside, cock twitching with every aftershock of your pussy clenching around him. He’d murmur soft praises against your hair—“s'perfect, honey, you take me so good, I’ll give you everything, I swear it.”

What no one else saw—what no one else deserved to see—was the way you looked wrapped around him, flushed and dewy-eyed with tears streaking down your cheeks, lips parted, a mess of sweetness and sin tangled together. The way your greedy little pleas weren’t selfish at all to him, but a gift, because it meant he could give you more. More of his touch, more of his strength, more of himself.

He’d kiss your damp cheeks when you cried from the fullness, whispering “shh, I’ve got you… it’s alright, sweetheart, I’ll take care of it,” And then he’d cum again, as if his body were answering your need for him directly, flooding you until you went lax in his arms. He loved how your hands would fist in his hair or cling to his chest.

Then there were the moments when you left him completely undone—when Superman himself was the one trembling under you. His face flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy from the way you used him without mercy, working every last inch of his cock like it was yours to take and take again.

He’d lie back against the pillows, chest rising fast, hands clamped hard around your hips as if that was the only thing keeping him grounded. Sometimes he’d try to slow you, pushing down, a helpless groan breaking out when your needy little whines got louder, when your pussy clenched around him so tight he thought he might lose his mind. Other times, instinct won out and those big hands dug into the fat of your ass, guiding you down harder, rougher, until the wet smack of your bodies echoed through the room.

And he’d watch you through it all—your hair sticking to your damp cheeks, your lips swollen from biting back moans, the sweet curve of your body taking him like it was made for nothing else. Every bounce, every roll of your hips left him scrambling between restraint and surrender, his voice cracking as he begged you for more even while he swore he had nothing left to give.

But you always proved him wrong.

Because no matter how many times he spilled inside you, no matter how spent he thought he was, the sight of you writhing on top of him—his sweet girl turned ravenous—dragged him right back to the edge, over and over, until Clark Kent, the strongest man alive, was nothing but a gasping, fucked-out mess under your control.

There was no argument that Clark Kent—the world’s strongest man—was helpless and completely at your mercy when it came to you.

And he gave you everything. Every drop. Every ounce. Every part of himself, over and over, because nothing in this world—or any other—could make him feel prouder, or more wanted, than being the only man who could touch you like this.

[danitcx]

hi beautiful!!! i'm having sooooo many thoughts about reader and clark who get to the point in their relationship that they're ready to have sex, but reader tells him (or warns him shyly?) to not take it personally if she doesn't finish because she gets really overwhelmed and can't. And clark takes this as a challenge to learn how to make her comfortable enough to finish with him and enjoy it!!

I just knoooowww that he'd be the one to succeed and give girly the experience she deserves 👅

Numbers Can Wait +18

Clark Kent x female reader

WC: 6,300 words approx.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, established relationship, oral sex, penetration, multiple orgasms, soft aftercare, mentions of stress/anxiety

════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ════

You had been living for weeks between stress and exhaustion. From one place to another, with papers in your hand and numbers in your head, you barely had a moment to breathe. Your office job, which at first you thought would be manageable, had turned into a mountain of statistics, reports, and accounts that kept growing, especially now that the end of the year was approaching. You felt trapped in a whirlwind of tasks that never ended.

If you were honest with yourself, the only truly good thing that had come out of that gray, folder-filled place was meeting Clark Kent. He worked in the building next door and, by chance, lived in the building next to yours. The curious thing was that he was the one who noticed the coincidence first.

It all started one afternoon, when you both took the same train and got off at the same station. For a few minutes you thought he was following you, and the discomfort made you walk faster. He felt the same way about you. Until he laughed a little, introduced himself with his kind tone and that shy smile that would later become impossible for you to forget. Since then, coincidences became routine: waiting for you after work to walk together, sharing stories on the way home, asking how your day had been.

One day he invited you out. Another, he listened to you complain about work while trying to make you laugh. And later, when enough time had passed, the first kiss happened only because you dared to give it. Clark was too gentlemanly to rush. He had the patience to wait until you were ready, until he was sure you wanted it as much as he did. That made you laugh inside… but it also made you love him more. You were learning to truly love him.

After several months of dating, he convinced you to have dinner at his apartment. For some reason, you sensed what could happen that night; you had both talked about it before, and it was clear you were ready to take a more intimate step. Even so, your mind kept wandering, thinking only about that, about what it would mean.

You arrived with your bag full of papers sticking out in disarray, your coat folded over your arm, and a bottle of champagne in your other hand. Clark opened the door almost the same instant you raised your hand to knock. He looked nervous, as if he had also felt your presence nearby before you arrived.

“Something told me you were close,” he murmured with an embarrassed tone, reaching out to help you with the bottle.

You smiled when you saw him. “I’m sorry, I know I said I’d be here at nine and I arrived thirty minutes late,” you confessed as you walked in.

The warmth of his apartment wrapped around you immediately, so different from the cold of the street. It was warmly lit, with soft lamps and everything perfectly tidy. There was a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen, with a touch of spices that instantly opened your appetite.

“God, Clark… your apartment is better organized than mine,” you said, laughing a little embarrassed as you left your coat on the hanger.

He smiled, adjusting his glasses with that gesture you already knew so well. “Let’s just say I tried to put in some effort… I wanted you to feel comfortable.”

Clark had been to your apartment many times. He always saw piles of math books open, sheets filled with numbers and graphs scattered across the table, as if the place were an extension of your office. But that night was different. When he opened the door and saw you, he was left speechless.

Your hair was loose, falling in waves over your shoulders. You wore a simple but elegant black dress, with dark stockings and heels that highlighted your legs. Clark wasn’t a daring man, much less vulgar, but he couldn’t help his heart racing when he saw you like that. Normally you wore pants, because you had told him many times that you hated your legs. And he, with his patience, always insisted they were beautiful. Maybe that’s why you decided to surprise him that night.

“I figured you wouldn’t be on time when you told me you had a meeting,” he commented calmly, closing the door and following you with his gaze, as if every step you took fascinated him.

“Yes… James and Andrés are complete idiots. Spreadsheets and more spreadsheets, one after another,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you walked toward the living room. Then you looked at him, with a flicker of doubt. “Everything okay?”

Clark blushed and looked down for a moment, as if his glasses weren’t enough to hide the sincerity in his eyes. “You look… very pretty,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual.

You smiled, a little nervous, but grateful for the tenderness of his words. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He approached, still with a shy air, as if even after months together he was still seeking your permission. “May I?” he asked softly, leaning toward you.

You nodded. Clark leaned down and kissed you slowly, his lips warm and patient. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer carefully, as if he were afraid of hurting you. You rested your hands on his white shirt, feeling the heat of his body under the fabric. You knew that dinner was just an excuse; you both wanted the same thing, but the stress still weighed on you.

You pulled back with a gasp, cheeks red, looking at him embarrassed. “I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed with all the work… and with this.” You swallowed hard, searching for words. “I don’t feel pressured, I want to do it, really… but if I don’t… if I don’t finish, I don’t want you to feel bad.”

Clark frowned, confused. “You think… I won’t be able to get you there?”

You shook your head immediately, trying to reassure him. “It’s not you, really. It’s just that… I’m very stressed, and sometimes I get blocked. I don’t want you to get discouraged, I’m going to enjoy it anyway, but it might be much harder for me or I might not even get there.”

He looked at you in silence for a second, then raised a hand to gently caress your cheek. “Then we’ll try,” he said with that calmness of his that always managed to relax you. A small smile appeared on his lips. “Did I tell you I have a lot of stamina? I’m not going to give up easily. I just want you to enjoy it, in your way, in your time.”

Your lips curved into a smile, and your heart felt lighter. Any other man would have gotten upset, but not Clark.

Clark pulled his lips away from yours and took a deep breath, as if trying to regain control. His blue eyes looked at you with a sparkle he couldn’t hide.

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage,” he said quietly, his forehead almost touching yours.

You smiled softly, brushing your fingers over his shirt. “I know, Clark. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that you’d never be that. But…” you lifted your gaze and looked at him directly, noticing the way he looked at you, that restrained desire he tried to hide out of respect for you. Your heart skipped a beat. “Dinner can wait. I don’t want you to wait, because I can see it in your eyes.”

Clark swallowed, and for a moment he stayed silent, as if wanting to give you one last chance to back out. “Are you sure?” he asked, and the seriousness in his voice almost made you doubt yourself.

You bit your lower lip, feeling a weight in your chest. Part of you felt guilty for everything you had carried from work, for not being completely relaxed, for fearing you wouldn’t meet his expectations. “Yes,” you answered with a sigh, holding his gaze. “I am. I’ll try not to think about my work tonight… I’ll try to give myself to you.”

Clark caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, as tender as always. His smile appeared slowly, calm, but his eyes held a fire that made you shiver.

What you didn’t know was that Clark had made a silent decision: he would do everything possible for you. He wouldn’t let your stress or insecurities steal the magic of that moment. He would make your body and your heart forget the weight of the office, the numbers, and the worries. He would make you come, even if you swore it was impossible.

He lowered his head, kissing you again, this time more firmly, as if he wanted to show you without words how much you meant to him. His hands circled your waist and lifted you slightly, pulling you closer to him. You felt your breathing quicken and your cheeks burn, but there was no room for doubt anymore.

Clark rested his forehead against yours and let his breathing mix with yours until both your pulses became even.

“If at any moment you want to stop, you tell me,” he whispered.

“I know,” you replied.

Clark looked at you once more before kissing you again, with growing intensity but without causing you pain. His hand circled your waist and guided you toward his bedroom. You were aware of every step, but you surrendered to the movement, to his enveloping presence, to his hand caressing your lower back. You tried not to think about the Excel sheets you had to deliver on Monday.

He stopped in front of a door, opened it, and led you in. Immediately, he pressed you against the cold wall of the room. You gasped the moment his lips left yours, but there wasn’t complete separation; his mouth immediately moved to your jaw, tracing a descending path with warm, wet kisses down your neck. You sighed, your hands tangling in his curls, clinging to him. His breathing was audible and close.

“Why don’t you tell me how your day went?” he asked, his voice a rough murmur against your skin.

You frowned, disturbed by the intrusion of reality. “I’m trying not to think about that, Clark.”

He laughed, a low vibration that tickled the spot where his mouth rested on your collarbone. “I know, sweetheart. Just do it. You’ll see.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, challenging.

“Well,” you gave in, and he immediately crouched down. His hands traced the shape of your legs through the fabric, a gesture that made you shiver. “Today… James and Andrés turned in some invoices that were… the same as last month’s,” you began to tell, watching how his warm, firm hands circled your ankles. With expert fingers, he unbuckled the straps of your heels.

“Yes,” he encouraged, focused on his task.

“The boss got mad at everyone,” you continued, feeling the cold floor under your bare feet, your height reduced. “But he told me I was responsible. I snapped at the team.”

“How mean,” Clark murmured, and his palms began a slow ascent along the back of your calves up to your thighs. A sigh escaped your lips. “What else?” he asked, completely devoted to his task.

“They all have to send me the invoices tomorrow or I’ll charge them a fine for each one that… Ah—” A short, sharp sound cut your sentence when Clark’s nose brushed your center through the stockings and panties, inhaling your scent.

“I’m listening, love. Don’t stop talking,” he said, his hot breath seeping through the layers of fabric.

You swallowed hard. “That… that they don’t send,” you whispered. You felt his fingers on the elastic of your stockings, sliding them down slowly. His hands ran along the skin of your bare thighs until he removed the stockings completely. You sighed in relief when he set them aside, now kneeling in front of you on the floor.

“And… I have to do the graphs of everything, of how the year went, and put together a folder with the invoices and… God—” Your explanation broke as you felt Clark’s flat, wet tongue lick you through the silk of your panties. The contact was so direct and electric that your legs contracted involuntarily just as he pressed a finger, also through the fabric, applying precise pressure.

“God? What does God have to do with your work, sweetheart?” he asked with deliberately obscene innocence.

You gasped as you felt his tongue again, now more insistent. Your hands clung to his curls, searching for an anchor.

“Do… I have to do… a presentation,” you managed to say, but the words came out rushed, broken by the tremors of your body.

Clark sucked your center through the fabric and slid two fingers in, this time slipping them under the elastic of your panties, opening you for him. His tongue then found your skin directly, penetrating and skillful. You rubbed against his face, driven by a primal impulse. Your free hand instinctively went up to your own breast, squeezing it, and you threw your head back until it lightly hit the wall.

“And will you be busy Monday?” he asked, his deep, vibrating voice against your center.

“Y-yes,” you answered, breathless. “Clark…” His name was a plea when you felt your pulse racing out of control. You gasped loudly when he suddenly pulled away, breaking the contact.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, tension and focus etched on your face. He, with determined movements, removed your panties and stood up. Your gaze shifted to his chest, completely bare; you hadn’t seen the exact moment when he had taken off his shirt. His pants were already on the floor, along with his underwear, which lay in a pile of torn fabric. His cock was exposed, erect, tense, and visibly ready to enter you.

He approached. You watched his gaze, dark and intense, filled with desire. Despite the darkness in his eyes, you still felt safe. He brushed your lips with his while his hands slid down the zipper of your dress, which was already wrinkled.

You felt the fabric slide and fall to the floor. You looked directly at him, but he only caressed your waist with his palms, gradually moving up to your breasts. You gasped in response, closing your eyes at his touch.

“I wanted to ask you out Monday,” he said softly, though his deep voice reverberated in the space between you. He placed his hands on your breasts, grabbing each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, applying precise pressure.

“I can’t,” you answered, almost breathless. He released your breasts and came even closer, until his cock brushed your center. “Just… Clark… fuck me,” you said, clinging tightly to his shoulders. He curved a smile, slightly tilting his mouth.

“But… you still seem stressed,” he declared, moving closer and deliberately rubbing his erect cock against your clit. You hesitated, but closed your eyes as you felt the friction. Though he was playing with you, he needed you too.

Clark took one of your legs and lifted it, making you lose your balance for an instant. But he held you firmly by the waist with his other arm. You clung to his shoulders, your back pressed against the wall, your body already covered in a fine layer of sweat. He lifted you slightly and slid into you slowly, with a deliberate and torturously pleasurable penetration. You moaned shamelessly, and he pressed against your chest, trembling slightly. He thrust into you with slow, deep movements; the sound of his hips colliding with your thighs repeated rhythmically. His face remained buried in the curve of your neck, his breathing ragged.

“Why can’t you on Monday?” Clark asked without stopping his thrusts, with a steady rhythm that made your breasts bounce with every movement.

“Because…” you moaned, tightening the inner muscles around his member. He let out a guttural moan. “I… they… the people at work hate me,” you managed to say, while digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. “They’ll know I’m dating… the famous D-Daily Planet reporter,” you added in a broken, barely audible voice.

“They’re very mean to my pretty girlfriend,” Clark said, lifting your leg even higher to thrust deeper into you.

“Y-yes,” you answered, your voice breaking from the jolts.

“Continue,” Clark said, not changing the rhythm, urging you to keep talking.

Now you understood you had been wrong when you told him not to worry. Clark had taken it seriously, and that night he gave himself completely to you. There was no rush, no nervousness, only the certainty that he wanted to show you how much he loved you and how much he had waited for this moment.

Your thoughts about work, numbers, and charts vanished as if they had never existed.

The sound of bodies was wet and constant. The room, once immaculate, was now a mess. The wall opposite the bed showed dark, blurry stains where your back had pressed against it, transfers of sweat repeated over and over. The bed, whose comforter had been neatly arranged and pillows symmetrically aligned, was now a chaos of twisted sheets, pulled from their corners and piled into a damp tangle.

Clark moved you with a determination that was terrifying and arousing in equal measure. Every thrust was a physical reminder of his strength, a strength you had underestimated. His hands, large and strong, gripped your hips, leaving bruises you would feel the next day, marking your skin. His breath, hot and uneven, hit the side of your neck, mixed with guttural and lewd sounds that came from his throat, sounds that aroused you in a way that embarrassed you.

You had lost count of the times. Four… maybe five. Your thighs and belly were shiny and sticky, stained with successive layers of his thick, white liquid that he insisted on spilling on you, filling you to the point of excess. The smell of sex and sweaty bodies was dense, heavy, filling every corner of the room.

And he demanded you to speak. His voice, hoarse and low, resonated in your ear between gasps.

“Tell me more, darling,” he ordered, and his thrusts became deeper, more insistent, punitive. “Talk to me.”

Your words were barely incoherent babbling, a broken thread of voice shattered by the jolts of his body against yours. Your weak, trembling hands clung to his torso, feeling the sweaty skin and the tense, hard muscles of his back and sides, trying to find an anchor point in the sensory storm.

“Charts…” you managed to spit out, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the pressure building again in your lower belly, an unstoppable spiral of pleasure. “Many…” you whispered, and the word was almost devoured by the sound of colliding bodies and panting breaths.

He slightly slowed his rhythm, leaning over you. His weight pushed you deeper into the mattress.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice a low vibration in your ear.

“Clark… no… I can’t,” you trembled, feeling the muscles inside you start to contract involuntarily, on the brink once again. “I can’t think…”

A brutal smile of satisfaction drew on his face. That was what he wanted to hear. That he had pushed you to your limit, erased every stressful thought.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, and his tone was deceptively gentle, contrasting with the way his hips began moving again, starting a new and brutal assault. “Just let me fill you one more time.”

You nodded, a small, weak movement of your head. You didn’t have the strength to refuse, nor the desire to do so. The promise of another climax, even though your body screamed it was too much, was irresistible.

You gasped sharply and brokenly as you felt him slide into you once more, filling every space, brushing against a spot that made you see white flashes behind your eyelids.

“Clark, God… I’m going to… I…” your voice broke, turning into a hoarse moan. Your vision blurred, losing all focus. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, the muscles of your thighs vibrating with an almost convulsive violence.

And there, for the sixth time in that endless night, orgasm hit you. It wasn’t a wave, it was a seismic shock that tore through you from the very center of your being. Clark felt it and thrust even deeper, maintaining the rhythm, prolonging the agony and ecstasy to a point that seemed unbearable. You opened your mouth in a silent scream, no air to form it, no mind to give it words. Only a violent tremor ran through you from head to toe, followed by a surge of heat that made you arch your back and almost cry, drowned by the raw, unfathomable purity of pleasure.

Clark collapsed on top of you then, with a guttural, deep growl that came from the depths of his chest. He held you tightly, keeping you pinned under him as his own climax ran through him, filling you once more with a hot stream that mixed with the previous ones.

You stayed like that, tangled, panting. The air conditioner hummed in the sudden stillness. You tried to catch your breath, each inhalation a conscious effort. He, satisfied and exhausted, began to place soft, lazy kisses on your shoulder, on your collarbone.

“Did I hurt you?” Clark whispered as his nose brushed softly against your cheek. His voice was full of care, as if he still feared he had gone too far.

You smiled, your cheeks still hot and your body tired, but relaxed in his arms.

“Remind me never to tell you I’m stressed again,” you murmured, your voice barely a thread of sound, hoarse and worn. The phrase was a surrender, an admission of glorious defeat. Clark smiled, a wide, carefree expression that lit up his face, and wrapped you in his arms.

He enclosed you completely, his broad, warm chest against your back, his strong arms creating a perfect barrier between you and the outside world. It was like being embraced by a living fortress.

“This time it was six,” he said, and his tone was one of satisfaction mixed with playful challenge. “Next time I’ll make it seven.” He spoke as if referring to a personal record, an athletic goal he was determined to surpass. A low, trembling laugh escaped your lips. Not only at his comment, but at the absurdity of the situation: lying exhausted and completely satisfied, discussing the number of orgasms as if they were marathons.

“Clark Kent setting goals?” you joked through laughter. “Only the important ones,” he answered seriously, though another smile soon slipped out.

He slowly sat up, still careful not to move you too much. “I’ll get the bath ready. I don’t want you staying this exhausted.” He leaned down, leaving a warm kiss on your forehead. “You can wear one of my shirts in the meantime. They’ll be huge on you, but… you look gorgeous in them.”

He moved away slowly and immediately reached for the white shirt he had worn that night. It still held the warmth of his body and his clean, familiar scent. He put it on you, covering you with the fabric that smelled intensely of him, of safety, of home. He caressed your hair before standing up and walking to the bathroom.

From the bathroom came the sound of running water filling the tub. Gentle steam began seeping through the slightly open door, promising warmth and comfort for your aching muscles. Your eyes, heavy with exhaustion but shining with deep emotion, followed him. You watched the broad back, the confident posture, the loving efficiency with which he moved to take care of you.

Clark returned after a few minutes.

“The bath is ready,” he announced serenely. “Afterwards I’ll make dinner… though I suppose that should’ve come first.”

He raised his eyebrows with a half-smile, and you laughed softly.

“Clark, after tonight… dinner can wait forever.”

He leaned down, kissing your forehead again, and stayed there for a few seconds, breathing in your scent, as if he needed to memorize every detail of you. When you looked up, his eyes were loaded with something deep, tender, impossible to mistake.

And there, you knew with absolute certainty. That’s right. You had found the one. Not only because of the incredibly gifted and energetic lover he was, but because of the man who, immediately afterwards, cared about your comfort, about making you dinner, and about ensuring you were warm. He was the perfect combination, the balance between meta-human power and the most human heart of all.

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This work is mine. Copying or translating this fic is strictly prohibited. Any issue must be notified directly to me. Thank you.

[ghostlychel69]

double trouble.

blurb: what do two clark kents lead to? challengers.

themes: clark kent x reader x ultraman, smut with plot, jealous clark kent, possessive clark kent, threesome, f!reader, double stuffing, breeding kink, rough sex, clingy clark kent, clingy ultraman wc: 4.1k

(takes place after the rift is torn through metroplois)

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy and as always, likes, reblogs and comments are always deeply appreciated!! <3

ever since the fall of the notorious Lex Luthor empire, Metropolis had been in constant motion as it was engrossed in work efforts. many communities had come together in an attempt to rebuild Metropolis. despite the melancholic nature of the tragedy at hand, many inhabitants maintained a positive outlook on the situation due to the involvement of Superman, as he not only aided in the restoration attempt but also saved the city from the brink of collapse.

you clutched onto your cup of coffee as you sighed to yourself, gazing down from your apartment complex to the bustling streets below. you were grateful for all your philanthropist of a boyfriend, Clark Kent, had done for the residents of Metropolis; despite their previous accusations that they had held towards him, he truly was a saint.

clutching your beverage, you allowed yourself to get situated onto the cosy couch within you and clark's shared apartment, aimlessly scrolling through the multitude of social media apps at your grasp as your favourite series filled the silence of the apartment as background noise.

you had gotten off work around an hour ago and were awaiting clark's arrival to see what you two would be having for dinner that night, but with the recent happenings within Metropolis, he had become a key asset, aiding in utilising his super strength to hasten the restoration of the city.

you scrolled past a couple of news pages' coverage on the arrest of the criminal Lex Luthor.

his company, LexCorp, had delved into a state of chaos without any guidance from their genius CEO, laying off thousands of workers and curating widespread instability from within; clark had told you all about it once.

you sighed at the thought of him as you reminded yourself he wouldn't be home till a while later.

which is why you felt a wave of confusion exude from you when you heard a loud knock at the front door.

you weren't expecting anyone. maybe a package of clark's? though he would have informed you prior to its arrival.

you sat up from the couch, standing to your feet as you sauntered to the front door, peering through the peephole, which only displayed the back of the stranger's form.

you still twisted the doorknob apprehensively, opening the door a couple of inches so you could peer out through the newly formed gap between the door and its frame.

the stranger, clad in what seemed to be a black suit similar to that of a hero, turned to face you, azure eyes making contact with your own.

"clark?" you blurted, a smile gracing your lips as you swung the door wider to let him in.

you weren't expecting him back so early?

as he entered, passing the threshold of the apartment door, he slowly trod his way through the apartment as if stepping too hard would result in him falling straight through the wooden floorboards. his eyes wandered the environment as if it were unfamiliar before he turned his body to face you, still perched beside the door examining him. you noted that he hadn't uttered a single word since he came in.

this puzzled you. even on his hardest days, clark would always offer you some form of greeting after a long day of hard work, whether that be a chaste kiss or a warm embrace as he mumbled a muted "missed you" into your hair.

you analysed his rigid body language as if he himself were confused as to what he was doing here.

his whole get-up was just...weird.

he wore a black suit, which, though similar to his iconic Superman suit, had a slight difference, as it now sported a large 'U' across his chest area instead of the familiar 'S' you had grown accustomed to. another weird quirk was the fact that his hair was much longer than when he had intially departed from your shared apartment with a kiss this morning.

"what's with the weird get-up?" you quizzed, confusion twisting your facial features.

"wei..rd?" he parroted back.

"what'd you do to your hair?" you interrogated as you approached him, a hand reaching out to graze the ends of the long strands.

this action caused his breath to hitch. his body slowly leaning into your touch, eyelids heavy as he blinked slowly.

"you know what? Just spare me the details; we can just talk later if you're not feeling up for it right now," you offered as your hand fell to your side. though this ordeal was weird, clark was notorious for coming back home in strange predicaments, especially after duelling with the likes of a magic user. you chuckled as you recalled the time he had come back with a pair of cat ears and a tail sprouting from his figure, and all he could do was whine about the situation until his body returned back to normal a week later; the media certainly had a field day with the multitude of content curated around Superman's new look.

his blue eyes stared at you unblinking, as he already began to reminisce about your touch. his thoughts were abruptly interrupted, though, as your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him in the direction of the bathroom.

"we're gonna take care of your hair first, 'kay?" you informed him matter-of-factly as you dragged his larger form into the bathroom, seating him atop the closed lid of the toilet.

"right…" you began as you started rummaging around the room with reckless abandon, gathering all the materials you could possibly need.

once you had scavenged them all and gracefully set them atop the bathroom counter, you gazed down at clark with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"you trust me, right?" you uttered, a pair of scissors in hand.

clark blinked up at you quizzically before you witnessed the shadow of a nod.

"good," you stated as you took a step closer toward him. 

his hands twitched by his side, seemingly confused about what to do before ascending and making a whisper of contact with your waist, gentle hands encircling your torso and pulling you in much closer so his face was level with the crook of your neck.

you noticed he was inhaling your scent, but you commented nothing on it, favouring focusing on his haircut.

after you ushered clark to take a shower, you began working on dinner.

as you brought the large pot in front of you to a simmer, you couldn't help but wonder why clark had knocked on your apartment door.

maybe he forgot his keys?

"gosh, he's way too forgetful for his age," you muttered to all but yourself as you heard the shower come to a halt. you turned off the stove and marvelled at the large pot for a second, noting how clark's alien appetite was almost insatiable, so he'd consume 3 helpings on an average day.

you began plating dinner as you heard keys jingle outside the apartment door. the sound caused a chill to run down your spine as you instantly perked up. you knew that only you and clark had shared keys to the complex, so who the hell could be at the door right now?

the door swung open, revealing a cheerful clark in his oversized blazer and white button-down shirt that he often wore to work.

"y/n, baby?" he called out as he kicked off his shoes, placing the various grocery bags he carried down at his feet.

he turned the corner to see you at the stove, clutching a spatula. all signs of stress that he displayed dissipated as he saw your figure, but he couldn't help but notice the way your face had been drained of all colour as you slowly inched away from his presence until your back hit the counter.

"hey there, you okay? you look like you've seen a ghost."

"who— what are you-"

"hon.." he began, "are you feeling alright?"

just then, whoever the hell you just invited into your apartment had stepped out of you and clark's shared room, clad in clark's tee and sweats.

both you and clark stared at the intruder, who stared back.

clark immediately attacked the man, the doppelgänger's back now flush against a wall as clark fisted the collar of their shirt.

"ultraman."

ultraman?

"shouldn't you be at LexCorp right now? why the hell are you in my home?"

the doppelgänger winced as he was further pushed into the drywall, causing it to crack under the pressure. his silence only further agitated clark.

"no one. left," he choked in an incoherent gurgle. but clark maintained the harsh grip he had on him, seemingly deeming him a threat despite his peaceful nature.

"clark, ease up a little," you chimed. "you're hurting him."

"y/n, I don't think you understand; this is the hammer of Boravia. Lex Luthor cloned him from a sample of my DNA so I could fight someone equally matched in power and abilities."

"but why are you using such force?"

"he could be a threat."

"but he's been nothing but peaceful since he arrived?" you reasoned with clark.

clark's resolve began to visibly waver as his chokehold loosened.

"he didn't…touch you or anything—"

"gosh, no clark. in fact, I thought he was you, so I gave him a haircut, thinking you fought a magic user again or something," you stated as your hand gently grasped clark's bicep, bringing his arm down to his side.

"well, okay then," clark mumbled, "what do you propose we do with him?"

"let him stay here for a bit, no?"

"here?" clark blurted out.

"a-are you sure? I don't know if it'll be a good idea."

"where else does he have to go?" you interjected.

clark sighed exasperated as his hands raked his hair. fingers gently tugging at the strands.

"fine. but only temporarily," clark mumbled.

"thanks for understanding, clarkie," you chimed, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "dinner's ready, so go get changed," you shooed him into the bedroom.

with clark gone, you were left with the clone. his eyes never left yours, as they were always on you.

you cleared out your throat as embarrassment slowly began to settle in your bones from his unwavering stare.

"let's get seated then, shall we?"

you never thought that the situation that you had thought of in an obscure daydream one too many times that you felt comfortable admitting out loud would ever actually come to fruition, but there you were, sat at your dining room table, one clark kent to your left, another to your right.

the silence was deafening as you all ate in silence. you poked at your dinner as you felt clark's clone's eyes on your figure as your clark bore his own at the stranger. the tension was suffocating. you opted to start a conversation before the two caused Metropolis to fall like the last time clark ended up fighting another kryptonian who happened to be the General Zod of the kryptonian army.

you cleared your throat.

"so i was thinking we should refer to you as kal-el" you turned to the clone whose eyes were already trained on you.

"what? b-but that's my name," clark sputtered in disbelief.

"yeah, but he technically is you—"

"a clone of me".

"still you"

"we don't even know if he actually speaks actual coherent English," clark stressed. you sighed exasperatedly. you turned your attention back towards the clone.

"can you say something?" you muttered sweetly, trying to coax an answer. clark subtly rolled his eyes at the warm tone you used as you addressed the clone, the same warm tone you only used towards him and him alone.

"some..thing?" he replied in a broken response.

"see." clark huffed, a hint of a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

"you take things quite literally, don't you? i meant something of – hm, I don't know…substance? like just a sentence or something?" you reiterated, paying no mind to clark's jealous tantrum.

"y/n.." the clone started, catching the attention of both you and clark.

"y/n is mine."

the sentence caused your breath to hitch at the unexpectedness of it whilst clark's eye twitched.

"what?" clark seethed as his fist clenched under the table.

"aha," you laughed dryly, trying to diffuse the situation. 

"okay, we've established the fact you can speak, hm? l-let's just call you kal, kay?" you professed as you quickly grabbed kal's hand and ushered him into the guest room, afraid that the red glint in clark's eyes might actually lead to kal being a pile of ash in the next couple of seconds.

the next couple of weeks were clark's own personal psychological version of hell. kal had obvious feelings towards you, which he believed to be due to the fact that they were both related, so of course they shared the same infatuation with you.

but as the weeks passed by and you and kal got closer, he began to get bolder, whether that manifested in him placing a possessive hand on your waist at all times or having you sit in his lap whilst he nuzzled his face into your neck. when clark saw this occur, he began to vibrate with anger, but given the obscurity of the situation, he didn't really know how to react, considering the fact that that was him, in a way.

but what really aggravated him was the fact that the clone bastard had the audacity to smirk at clark whilst you were oblivious, solidifying the fact that he knew what he was doing.

when clark confronted him, you came to his defence, stressing that he didn't know better and how his clingy behaviour was a result of the psychological and physical abuse that kal had endured at LuthorCorp.

this caused clark to storm off to bed early, with you quickly following suit.

"baby, don't be angry," you reasoned as you crawled under the bedcovers, assuming kal would find his way to his room.

"i'm not," clark sulked.

"you just spend so much time with him, and it doesn't help that he doesn't work either, so he has way more time with you than I ever do, and he clearly likes you, but I can't do anything because he's my clone, and i swear he's actively trying to antagonise me." clark rambled.

"are you jealous?"

"n-no," clark stuttered.

you made your way to clark's lap as you straddled him. 

"you're the only one i have eyes for, though. you're the one i'm in love with; you're the one i'm dating. did you forget?" you chimed as you caressed the side of his face with your hand, thumb gliding over his now red cheek as he flushed.

"r-right," clark mumbled as you leaned in, placing a passionate kiss on his lips.

you opted for snuggling into his chest as you situated yourself on top of him, causing clark to reposition the covers to accommodate for you.

he straightened himself out as you both were lulled to sleep in each other's arms.

but that wasn't the predicament clark found himself in the next morning as he woke up to an empty bed.

he was in the...guest room?

clark clambered out, sleep still clouding his vision as he made his way to your shared room. as he cracked open the door, he found kal on his side of the bed, spooning you, your sleeping figure flush to his chest.

the bastard had moved him into the guest room as he slept, opting for his position in your shared bed.

clark jumped on top of the bed as he lunged for the clone, wrapping his hands around his neck as he choked him.

"you've fucking done it now," clark seethed as kal choked out gurgled sounds.

the commotion stirred you awake as you turned over to face the two twins.

"CLARK!" you exclaimed as you tried pulling the man of steel off of his clone.

"PLEASE JUST STOP, BABE."

clark's grip slightly loosened at the word of endearment until he found the strength to pull himself completely off of kal.

"what the hell was that, clark?" you accused as you positioned yourself in front of kal, weary of his safety right now.

as clark racked his brain for an explanation, his gaze travelled behind you to the doppelgänger who wore the whisper of a smirk on his lips.

he planned this.

lex may have said that the clone was dumber than clark, but he called bullshit.

this guy knew exactly what he was doing.

"whatever," clark sighed, offering no explanation as he left your shared bedroom in favour of making breakfast for you and him alone, which you would definitely complain about, but clark would rather that clone bastard starve, even if it would only be for a couple of minutes.

the morning went by incredibly slowly, as clark actually had the day off for once, so he made sure his eyes didn't stray from kal's wandering ones for the entire morning.

at around noon you announced that you were going to get a couple of groceries and urged the boys to be on their best behaviour, glancing towards clark which made him exude a loud groan.

clark and kal remained on the couch where you left them as you left the apartment complex. there was a deafening silence and harsh tension between the two as they sat at opposite ends of the couch.

but this was broken by kal.

"just so you know, she's falling for me, and you're gonna be out of the picture pretty soon, so i'd advise you start getting ready to pack up your shit and dip," kal spoke in perfect English, gaze still glued to the TV screen in front of him.

clark gawked at the clone beside him, unsure if he should question him on how the fuck his English was perfect all of a sudden, smother him to death with the pillow next to him or just cry.

clark had never experienced such intense emotions of pure confusion, to the point it felt like agony, before.

as he pondered his next course of action, an idea came into his head.

he was gonna do what he knew kal couldn't do because you were dating clark.

he was going to have sex with you.

nightfall had descended upon Metropolis, and once clark had made sure that kal would be residing in his own room, he set his plan into motion.

you were lying in bed next to clark, back flushed with his chest, before you felt him slowly, subtly inching impossibly closer.

you felt his laboured breaths fanning out beside your ear until you felt his boner prod at you from below.

"baby.." clark drawled, a large hand ascending to encase your hip, thumb stroking back and forth, "i need you."

you felt him grind his erect length into your ass, causing your breath to hitch.

"will you let me touch you?" clark pleaded, his voice wavering and breaking slightly towards the end.

the recent stress caused clark's frustration to manifest into sexual frustration, and you were always so willing to be his outlet.

your body turned towards him as you nodded, his small ministrations already kindling a warmth within your lower abdomen.

"okay," you whispered.

clark wasted no time as he climbed on top of your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake ascending from your neck to your jaw. his mouth remained occupied as he began to suck harsh hickeys into your neck, causing you to whine as his hands busied themselves exploring your figure, landing on your soft tits. clark gave them a firm squeeze, causing you to gasp; he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth as you both began to sloppily make out.

you felt his eagerness as he ground his clothed erection into your clothed heat.

"fuuuck, clark, stop being a tease," you whined.

"i've got you, baby," clark sighed as he pulled off his sleep bottoms and boxers in one fell swoop, exposing his naked figure to you, as he chose to often sleep shirtless.

you let out a muted moan as you marvelled at his large cock, already feeling the stretch within you as your walls clenched around nothing.

you quickly shimmied out of your sleepwear, leaving your panties for clark to take off.

"look who's teasing now," he mused as his chest rumbled with a breathy laugh.

you saw something in your peripheral as clark pulled down your pants, marvelling at the slick that clung to the fabric.

he positioned his tip at your entrance before he pushed in, forcing you to take his thick length inside you, inch by inch.

"oh fuuuuck," clark whined. "s-so big," you sighed.

the figure in your periphery made their presence known as kal fully pushed open the slightly ajar door.

"HOLY SHIT, KAL?!" you squealed, attempting to hide your naked body behind clark's figure.

"what the hell do you want?" clark sighed in annoyance, lust clouding his resolve. 

"wanna...join."

"you must be out of your min—" clark started, but he felt the way your walls clenched down on his aching cock at the notion.

"damn it," he mumbled as he gazed into your lust-clouded eyes. with a small reluctant sigh, he signalled the clone over as he repositioned your body so you were now straddling him with your back towards kal.

"g-golly," he whimpered as the position caused you to sink down on his cock, making him reach impossibly deep within you, eliciting a moan from your lips.

kal approached the bed, discarding his clothing as he positioned himself behind you.

you turned to face kal whose vision was already on you, dark and filled with lust; you felt his tip prod at your already stretched entrance.

"w-wait, kal—" you began but were abruptly cut off as he pushed his length into your overstuffed hole, causing you all to simultaneously let out a groan.

"shiiit, y-you're not supposed to— clark's already—fuuuuck," you cried out as he inched himself inside regardless.

your moans bounced off the walls within the room as your eyes began to tear up.

"shhhh, s'ok baby, you can take it," clark reassured as kal shoved himself to the hilt, causing you to shriek.

your walls were stretched impossibly wide around the girth of their joint cocks, and the sensation had you digging your nails into clark's shoulders.

clark set a pace that caused both cocks to drag inside you at an intense speed. when clark thrust in, kal would pull out, tip catching at your hole, and vice versa.

"sooo tight—" kal whined as his head fell onto your shoulder, taking the opportunity to open his mouth and chomp down, leaving a bite mark there.

the two men began to overstimulate themselves as the friction of both their dicks against each other as well as the drag of your clampering walls caused the string in their stomachs to be pulled taut.

"i-i can't—nghhh," you hiccupped.

"take it, princess, gonna breed this pretty cunt," clark mumbled into the shell of your ear, his words further spurring you on as you threw your ass back onto kal, forcing them both deeper inside you.

"f-fucking milking us," kal whined as he felt your walls clamp down once more.

"gosh— g-gonna cum, baby," clark declared, as he thrust up into you at an impossible pace. the coil in both his and kal's stomachs being pulled impossibly taut and then snapping as you elicited a loud moan.

the sensation of your hole being flooded by a copious amount of hot cum had your walls spasming as you felt yourself cream on both the cocks that were stuffed inside you.

"ohhh fuuuuck," you squealed as you felt the last spurts of cum drench your walls in white.

kal collapsed on top of you, causing you to fall onto clark who let out a loud huff at the combined weight of the both of you.

"shit, was that real?" you questioned, dazed.

"mhmm," the men both simultaneously hummed.

kal withdrew his softening length, opting to rather flop beside clark whilst you clambered off clark with a grimace as you felt him slip out of you, situating yourself between the men.

you felt them both wrap their large arms around you as they snuggled up into both of your sides.

"mine," kal sighed.

"no, mine," clark argued.

"can't you guys just share?" you groaned and were greeted with silence, so you assumed that they'd listened and shut up.

"round two?" kal offered weakly.

"maybe we might get along after all," clark voiced as he already began positioning your body.

one kryptonian wrecking your body was already a train wreck, but now two?

you were in for the longest night of your life.

a/n: i just watched man of steel not that long ago and jeez henry did pretty good but ofc i still stand by the fact that david is a more canonic comicc accurate supes but boy did henry look good

divider by @/canibalias