excitingggggg. hopefully it’s good i’ve never written pegging before teehee
pairing: clark kent x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT (pegging duh)
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Your gaze met his. “Okay, baby. Back or tummy?”
Clark looked back at you with wide eyes, chest already heaving. He swallowed, glancing down as you stepped into your harness, adjusting it.
“Uh… uh-m… b-back. Back, I think. Wanna look at you,” he murmured, two fingers splitting himself open.
You smiled. “Good. Pretty baby, you’re so sweet like this.”
He flushed, looking away as he pumped into his hole, his other hand wrapped around his cock. It drooled all over his tummy, and you were anxious to see it get even drippier. You stroked the dildo strapped to your hips, just to watch him shudder in anticipation
“You’re pretty,” he retorted, his back arching. “Gosh, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm…” he nodded, adding a third finger to prep himself for you. “Y-yes. You’ll sit on my face after you make me finish? Let me make you happy?”
“Yeah, baby. Of course.”
He moaned softly, visibly excited. You walked closer, climbing onto the bed. You grabbed the lube, squirting some in your hand and smearing it on your cock. You stroked it slow to cover the rubber in it, eyes locked on Clark’s slick fingers slipping in and out of himself. Absolutely desperate and writhing, waiting for his gorgeous girl to fill his ass.
“Okay. Move.”
He gulped, pulling his fingers out. He used his wet hand to stroke his leaky cock, the dry one gripping your breast as you took your position. You teased his tight hole with the tip of your strap, then slowly pressed in.
“O-oh, yes. There, right there,” he whined, eyes hooded as he looked up at you.
“That’s my sweet boy. You take it so well every time,” you cooed back.
You pushed in further, slow shallow thrusts to let him acclimate to the feeling of being so full. He whimpered, voice a kind of high pitched he’d never admit to.
“I’ll take it, I’ll be good for you.” He gasped, clenching around your toy, stroking himself faster. “I’ll be good.”
“You are good, baby.”
His body jerked, his cock leaking all over his hand. Your thrusts quickened, fucking him the way you knew he liked. He moaned, whining out your name as you hit that sweet spot in him over and over again. You smiled, your hands gripping his thighs, spreading him open further.
“Gosh. Go-uhh. Please. Please, I’m so close,” he mumbled, speech slurred and needy. He took a harsher grip on your tit, kneading it under his palm.
“So easy for me.”
“Yes. Yes, only for you. All for you.”
You kept a steady pace, watching his face contort in pleasure. His balls drew up, his hand took a still, firm grip on his cock. Only a few more thrusts before he was cumming hard. He exploded on himself, covering his stomach and chest in milky white. He writhed and whimpered, the feeling of his tight hole filled by you entirely overwhelming.
He only stilled once he forced you to stop fucking him, both of his hands gripping onto your waist. You smiled, obliging him. He winced when you pulled out, his body limp.
“You’re so hot all full and whiny,” you whisper, a smile on your face as you lean to kiss him.
“M’not whiny. Just… just love you. Love when you do that.” He kissed you back, then started trying to maneuver you up, intent on fulfilling his promise of making you fall apart just as hard. “Now come here. Wanna taste my angel girl. Thank you for being so good to me.”
normally not my vibes but ya know what? i’ve been caught at a moment of weakness (horny)
warnings: smut obvs, breeding kink is coming to say hello also pregnancy kink? i dunno, clark just loves that he got his girl pregnant
send me a request here! | drabble masterlist here!
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“That’s my girl,” Clark whispered, his lips brushing your ear.
You held onto his forearm where it wrapped around you. You had been trying to take a nap with your lovely husband after he’d come back from some battle downtown, just wanting to feel close to him. Evidently, he wanted to be even closer.
Snuggling turned into spooning, which turned into some dry humping, which turned into him pushing into you from behind, your leg draped over his thigh.
He held you protectively, hand resting on the slowly forming bump of your belly.
“So pretty for me,” he breathed, kissing your neck. “My girl, rounding out for me. My baby…”
You let out a soft, shaky breath, gripping the pillow where your cheek was pressed.
“Clarkie, m’close.”
“I know, honey. I know. So needy when you’re pregnant, huh? I oughta put a baby in you more often.” He smiled against your skin, his pace picking up. “Y’look so pretty like this.”
You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt your climax fast approaching. You reached behind you, hand tangling in his dark hair. He slid his hand that rested on your tummy down, circling his fingers to get you closer to that edge. It wasn’t long before you were finishing, his name a needy cry on your lips as you squeezed him.
He groaned, panting against your skin. “Oh… sh-mm. I’m… I’m gonna…”
You nodded quickly, and he fell off that edge himself only a second later. He plunged into you as deep as he could go, filling you up with everything he had until it was leaking out and dripping over your leg. He breathed deep, taking a moment to gather himself.
“Gosh, I love not having to worry about protection.”
You laughed, then winced slightly as he pulled out. “Not like we’re concerned about a pregnancy scare, I guess.”
“And you feel even better like this. Every little contraction and pulse and… mm…” he groaned, kissing your lips once. “I get to feel everything. Also, you’re a very gorgeous pregnant lady. Love seeing you get all plump with my baby.”
“You’re a kinky fucker, aren’t you?.”
He chuckled, dimples poking into his cheeks. “Maybe. For you.”
“Uh huh,” you mumble, raising a brow at him playfully. “I’m kinda craving an egg roll.”
He grinned again, immediately getting up to find some clothes.
i wanna ride clarks face teehee, i'm sure he'd be happy enough to oblige
pairing: clark kent x f!reader
words: 862
content: face-sitting! reader is kinda shy abt it at first
note: hope u enjoy! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
“Please?” Clark’s eyes don’t leave your own as he says it. They reflect in the low lamplight of the bedroom. You look away. It’s hard to think when he looks at you like that. “I understand if–”
You shake your head, wanting him to stop his thought so you can think. Your body feels warm and underneath his gaze, you could nearly melt. “It’s just–” Your fingers wrap up in the blanket beneath you. Nothing but your panties separate you from the softness of it under your touch. Your nervousness is not new with Clark. It just hasn’t sprouted up in awhile. You weren’t exactly shy or inexperienced. But Clark had a way of making you feel nervous. Well, maybe giddy was the right word. It was something about the broad expanse of him when he was underneath you or on top of you. The flex of his muscles, the smoothness of his skin, the smile he wore, the eye contact. It was the way he was attentive. How almost everything was about your pleasure. Because that’s exactly what got him off.
“I’ve never–” You stumble over your words, thighs rubbing together. Despite your apprehensiveness, you can’t ignore the way your panties sit uncomfortably against you. Clark’s eyes glance at the action. The tips of his ears go red from the sound of it, the slickness of it. “I’ve never, you know, sat on…” You clear your throat, a near whisper. “Sat on someone’s face.”
“Well, I’ve never had anyone do it to me, either.” He offers, trying to ease your anxiety. His hands sit on either side of your thighs.
You roll your eyes, fingers finding his hand to trace shapes over. “It’s not exactly the same thing, is it?” You tease.
He stumbles over his words, “Well, no, but,”
You laugh, leaning forward to press a quick kiss against the side of his mouth. “I’m just teasing you.” You swallow. Brave enough to meet his gaze again. “Okay.”
“Okay?” The grin overtakes his face again.
You can’t even remember why you were so nervous as soon as your thighs are on either side of Clark’s face. He wastes no time burying his face between your thighs. He had always loved going down on you, but this was an entirely different experience for him. The feeling of your body weight pressing down onto him. He supported your bottom half with his arms as his mouth nearly covered the entire length of your pussy, tongue teasing and licking down your slit. Your head lulled back at the feelings. “Clark, Clark, I–.”
“It’s okay, sweet girl. Just let go.” You were thankful for his strength. There was no way you could hold your body up with the feelings he was bringing forth, but it seems the more you let go, the more he does too. More of your body weight sinks down onto him making him grunt and moan against you like a man starved. His hands sit on the outside of your thighs, but have a mind of their own as they grip the fat of your thighs, your ass, your boobs. At the same time, his tongue dipping in and out of your wetness, nose nudging against your clit. “Come on, honey.” Your entire body is warm from his actions and hearing him speak against your pussy only turns you on more. “Grind against my mouth.” His hands match his words as fingers squeeze the flesh, helping you move your hips gently against his face as his tongue flicks against your clit. “So wet, sweetheart.” He praises, hands still moving your body as you fall apart on top of him. Fingers tangle in his dark hair, loving the way he looks completely wrecked beneath you. “Tastes so good, baby. So sweet. So pretty.” Even with his mouth full of pussy, he can’t help but compliment you. He knows what it does to you.
Sitting on Clark’s face has its advantages, you find. You can get the exact pressure and pace that you need to come undone. The nervousness has melted away into pure need as you work yourself against his mouth. “Oh gosh.” Clark doesn’t stop his minisrrations. He keeps the same speed, tongue working against you with ease. “I’m gonna come, Clark.”
Clark does find it even more difficult to have you this way. He can’t exactly ease the tension in his cock like he usually does when he’s eating you out. Typically, he’s grinding against the bed, but this time, the only thing that he has to take his mind away from it is to keep eating you out, tasting your sweetness. He swears he hears a gush when you come. He doesn’t stop even when you’re crying out from how sensitive you are, pussy hovering above his face now. His face chases you, pressing a kiss against your clit before you’re falling back against the bed with a breath. Every time you come, you go to hide your face, but Clark is quicker this time, body enveloping you as kisses press against your face.
“That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Clark says it in an arrogant manner that has you slapping his arm.
i need to write more smut… also, I’m writing a part 2 of anything if anyone cares
Clark Kent who will only fuck you face up, because he can’t stand missing the way your eyes roll back just before your orgasm, because he can’t not kiss you rough, teeth and tongues clashing, a mix of saliva and your own slick from ‘getting you ready’.
Sometimes you’re on top, tits bouncing in his face, just asking to be touched and kissed and covered in his cum. He loves watching you ride him, he loves grabbing your hips, helping you along when you get tired, rutting up into you when you get close. He especially loves watching you desperately chase your orgasm, back arched, head thrown all the way back, mouth agape, releasing desperate, borderline pornographic moans.
He’ll only fuck you from behind when he’s mad. Against the kitchen counter after a bad day, against the window, still in his superman suit after a rough night, or spread open on all fours on the edge of the bed after you’ve spent the whole day teasing him, wearing that delicious blouse that cups your tits just right, grinding on him in the break room just to leave him rock hard, swinging your hips as you walk away, and whispering how much you need him all day.
I feel like we don’t talk enough about David’s thighs but anywho!
Just thinking about riding his thick thick thigh, preferably with the suit still on. Just imagine the thick material catching against your clit, his thigh clenching rock hard as you get closer and closer to your orgasm.
He’s either sat on the edge of the bad and you’re straddling his thigh, or you’re held up against the wall with his leg in between yours. Either way you’re grazing his cock with your leg and it’s making him go insane with need.
He made a promise not to help you along so he’s just sat there, jaw clenched, eyes screwed shut, fist scrunched up against his forehead, just begging to fuck you deep.
The idea of being used by Clark Kent… he’s so apologetic as he uses you, babbling “sorry” and “he wasn’t raised like this” between hard thrusts. He’d throw you around. First he’s fucking you on the wall, lifting and dropping you because he can. Then maybe he has you bent over the kitchen counter and he keeps yanking you back onto him. Then on the bed he has you on the meanest mating press of all time, and your knees are at your ears and the sheets are soaked and your vision is whiting out but he won’t stop. He’s on the edge of too rough, and you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
Which sounds crazy considering you’re dating Clark Kent. But you rationalize it like so; Clark Kent and Superman are the same body, but different people. Different personalities. And both make your clit throb. Clark Kent is sweet and kind in a fumbling way. All droopy eyes and shyness and soft tones, pulling his shoulders so he takes up less room. He’s more comfortable in Smallville. Superman is kind and caring in a… different way. His shoulders go back. Eyes switch from kicked puppy to strong and silent. His jaw is tense, smiles become smirks. His voice grows louder, deeper.
Clark is very good at separating work and personal life. He never takes out his frustration from a lost battle onto you. He’ll share emotions but from a distant observation. He won’t even touch you that hard. Which really sucks since you want Superman to fuck you into the mattress.
As you brood over this issue, you pass a street cart. It’s one of those carts with cheap merch, meant to draw in tourists. No self-respecting Metropolitan would stop at one unless something was dire. But this particular cart had some merch that lit an evil fire in your eyes. So you purchase it and speed home. After washing and drying your purchase, you get into it.
“Alright, ok…” You lay across the couch and pick up some book, just in time for Clark to walk in.
Your boyfriend freezes. “Darling, what are you wearing?”
You look down. “Clothes?”
“These aren’t your normal lounge clothes, hun. You wear sweatpants and ratty Tshirts, not… that.”
“Do you not like it?” The crop top barely covered the fat of your tits, and the thigh highs cut just enough into your thighs to show off their plump smoothness. You knew Clark loved leaving a hickey right where the thigh highs cut off. The matching panties were a sheer mesh, some frilly lace on the waistband too. But the kicker was that the set was Superman blue, with the red lace and logo emblazoned across your chest finishing off the racy merch. “I got a set from a street vendor. Support small businesses and all.”
“So you… bought… lingerie?” Clark chokes out. He wanders closer as if he’s hypnotized. “You look… golly darling…”
But right before he gets to you, you plant your foot on his sternum. “Sorry, this set is for Superman, see?” You cup your breasts and press them together, shifting the logo. Clark follows the movement needily. “I don’t see Superman here.”
“But I am Superman!” Clark whines. He doesn’t move. “Baby please! I can see her, she wants me!”
You shake your head. “Nope. Sorry. Tonight I’m Superman’s.”
“I dunno how I feel about my girlfriend wanting Superman and not Clark Kent…” Clark grumbles, walking to the bedroom with a dejected look. He closes the door to the bedroom.
A minute passes. Then five. Suddenly your smirk fades a bit. Maybe you went too far and made him upset. As soon as seven minutes hit, you get up to apologize to your boyfriend with sweet words and some head. But there’s a knock at your balcony door.
“Hello, ma’am. I heard some strange noises, came by to check it out.” Superman is floating right outside, cape and all.
The giddy squeal that left you had Clark trying to suppress a smile. Instead, he schooled it into a serious frown. “May I come in? Investigate the place, make sure it's safe for you?”
“Yes sir!” You squeak happily, pushing open the door. Superman lands.
“You expecting anyone?” He says, voice deep in that tone that has you wetting the mesh gusset. You shake your head.
“No… live alone.” You murmur shyly. “Sorry for the getup… wasn’t expecting company.”
Superman slowly paces around the apartment, his eyes often falling to your body with a lustful look. His gaze traces how your chest heaves with excited pants, how each step has your thighs rubbing together with lust. But he still stays in character, peering into cabinets and even the laundry room. “It’s alright ma’am… didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Maybe the noise came from the bedroom?” You suggest. You lead him there, swaying your hips. Clark suppresses a groan and follows.
He prowls the bedroom, looking at the armoire and closet. You lay across the bed in what looks like a suitably seductive pose, but you know your excited grin isn’t that seductive.
“So… you’re a big fan?” Superman asks, nodding to your getup. His hands clench momentarily.
“Yes, I am. Really, thank you for all you’ve done, and checking up on me too.” You purr softly.
Clark swallows again, jaw working. “It’s nothing I need thanks for, ma’am. Just want to make sure a civilian is safe. Which it appears it is here.” He pauses at the end of the bed, eyes focused on yours.
You crawl slowly towards him. “You’re so kind, not even needing thanks… but still, you’d appreciate it right? Everyone deserves to feel appreciated, especially you.” You kneel in front of Superman, slowly tracing your hands up his torso. “Maybe… I could show you my thanks?”
SUperman’s breath hitches as you gently push the suit bottoms down, just enough to free his cock. You’ve seen in hundreds of times already, but each time you’re still taken aback at just how heavy and thick he was. His cock was flushed an angry red at the tip, precum spurting out in pearly ropes. The veins throbbed against the palm of your hand.
“You’re so big…” You breathe, but your nose scrunches just a tad. Too pornstar-y. And Clark’s little soft grin at you says he agrees. “C’mere-”
He doesn’t have to be told twice, rushing to kiss you. Superman presses you into the mattress as your lips move together, his tongue exploring your mouth while he paws at your body. His hands grasp your tits, squeezing and flicking your nipples until you arch into him. One hand snakes down to your panties, and with no force at all rips the gusset of your panties open. You let out a whimper. Clark had never done anything but undress you like the finest porcelain, and here he was tearing your clothes apart.
“Such a dedicated fan I have.” Superman growls. He kneels on the bed and yanks your legs up and draped over his thighs. One calloused finger dips into your cunt, strings of arousal coming away with it. “All this for me, ma’am?”
“Uh-huh…” You mumble, pussy clenching around his finger. He slides one more inside, crooking them both and grinding the tips against your spongy walls. In time with his fingers thrusting in and out, his other hand flicks at your rapidly hardening nipples. “F-fuc- m’gonna-“
He withdraws his fingers.
“I- Clark!”
Superman just gives you a firm smirk. “This is for me, isn’t it? Thanking the hero of Metropolis?”
He flips you over onto your stomach, groaning at the sight. Your slick drips down your thighs, leaving spots of wetness on the socks. The shirt’s all mussed too, tits spilling out. “What a pretty girl…”
Superman slowly presses the blunt head against your pussy, pushing in. The girth has you twitching and moaning, filling up every crevice and nudging against your soft walls. His chest presses against your back. “Go-golly….” He thrusts forward, seating himself fully. Usually Clark gives you time to adjust, some soft kisses and reassurances.
Superman does none of that, immediately pulling back. Your pussy clings to his length. “Don’t worry girl. M’gonna fill you up.” He growls, and thrusts back in harshly. Superman sets a hard and fast pace, pelvis smacking against your ass. There’s no time to breathe, little wails of pleasure knocked out of you. Your hands scramble for purchase on your sheets. Each movement smushes a pretty kiss against your cervix.
“Fuck- fuck! Cl-Clar!” You babble helplessly. Suddenly, Superman does something Clark’s never done before. His free hand grabs for a fistful of hair and yanks you up. “Agh!”
“Who’s Clark, hm? That’s not me. Who- gosh- who am I? C’mon, darling.” Superman pants into your ear, nipping the earlobe. He releases your hair only to smack one of your tear-streaked cheeks lightly. The motion has your cunt clenching around his cock. “Oho, pretty girl likes being treated like a whore? C’mon then. Say my name.”
“Su-superman, m’gonna- please- m’gonna!” You sob helplessly, limp in his arms. His thrusts somehow get harsher. He’s practically slamming into your poor pussy, free hand tracing circles on your clit.
Your orgasm slams into you, body thrashing in his arms. But all Superman does is hold you tight on his length, grinding up into your g-spot as your cunt chokes his cock.
Barely giving you time to breathe, he lays you onto the bed, face and hips pressed into the sheets. “Gonna collect my thanks now, gosh- your pussy’s so perfect.” Superman moans as he begins to thrust once again. The new position as you screaming into the mattress. Clark had never done pronebone before with you, too worried his cock would be too big in this position. But that concern’s far from his mind.
His hips slam against your ass again and again as he chases his orgasm. He’s almost too big, but the pleasure is mindmelting. Your mouth hangs open, drool spotting the duvet.
“My- perfect- girl, love you so much- gosh- m’gonna cum, oh- golly!” Superman shouts as his hips stutter. His cock twitches and spurts out ropes of hot cum into your folds. Each spurt has you twitching.
As Clark comes down from his high, he blinks away that lust-filled haze. “Oh… oh no…. Darling! I’m so sorry I got carried away! Are you ok?! Do I need to take you to the hospital!?”
You lift your face from the duvet just enough so he can see the utterly cockdrunk smile on your face. “Best… purchase… ever…”
You’d come home from Pilates one morning. Your friend had begged you to come with her, even promised to go out for brunch afterwards. So here you were, exhausted and sore and sweaty, dragging into your shared apartment with Clark. He'd stayed home that Saturday. It was a rare day off from the Daily Planet and Superman.
"Clark I'm home!" Sneakers went into the shoe rack. Dirty towel and grippy socks were tossed into the wash. "Gosh, baby, I need to work out more. Pilates kicked my ass!"
Clark had emerged from the bedroom, ready to playfully scold you for cursing, but he stopped. Now he never cursed his Kryptonian abilities; it was a gift and responsibility he gladly bore. He even enjoyed them. But right now, Clark wished he was just a normal human. Because the picture in front of him.... maybe it was good he was Kryptonian, because the speed that his cock got hard at would've made him faint.
You smelt amazing. Your natural musk had been amplified from the Pilates session. Sweat had dried down on your skin, but your face positively glowed, all too similar to how you looked after being freshly fucked. And you were wearing one of your cute matching sets, a blue sports bra and shorts with red trim. He could even faintly see the outline of your nipples, a bit hard from the cold outside. Clark could even see the barest hint of your pussy.
"Clark... Clark!"
Clark startled. "Yes darling?"
"Did you hear anything I just said?"
"...Yes..."
You raise an eyebrow, hands propped on your hips. Now he was staring at your hips and how they were perfect handles for his hands while he thrust upwards into you, keeping you right where-
"Okay, you aren't listening, I'm just going to shower." But Clark's hands wrap around your waist and tug you back into him. "Clark!-"
Clark doesn't explain, just shoves his nose into the crook of your neck and breathes deeply. Smelling your musk straight from the source had his tip dripping into his shorts. "Don't shower, you smell so good..."
"I smell gross, Clark." You try to squirm out of his grasp, but all that does is make his arms tighten around you. He noses along your pulse, and his tongue even traces up. "Ew, Clark!"
"M'sorry baby, I can't help it... you just smell so good..." Clark mutters a bit dazedly. His hips unconsciously rut forward into the curve of your ass, bulge prominent. "Lemme make you feel good, darling? Please?"
What could you do but say yes?
Clark herds you to the couch, barely letting his face out from your neck, nipping and kissing and sniffing. But his hands are sure as they push off your shorts and pull off your sports bra, gently freeing your hair too. His gaze trails down your naked body.
“So beautiful…” Clark mumbles happily, laying you down onto the couch. He kneels down between your legs and sniffs your cunt. Your little squeak of disbelief has his eyes sparkling.
“You’re positively feral, Kent.” Your breathless scold does nothing to deter him. Clark dives in, tongue flattening against your wetness and dragging up. His groan vibrates against your clit.
Clark had always been enthusiastic about eating you out. Loved it. Did it for the love of the game of eating, he wasn’t afraid of getting dirty. But today, Clark was salivating at the intense muskiness of your pussy, the smell overwhelming his brain leaving nothing but the desire to get more. His tongue spears you open again and again, nose rubbing against your clit. Messy open mouth kisses, licks through your puffy folds; marking his claim. “Sho good…” He moans.
“Don’t- ah- don’t talk with your mouth full!” You quip, hands grasping his curls. Clark’s little rough chuckle has your toes curling. “Oooh fuck baby!”
Clark doesn’t reply. He’s too busy licking up your slit, suckling your clit softly at each pass. His tongue begins to fuck you open, long enough to press against the gooey front wall of your pussy. He even nibbles at your clit, just soft enough to have you twitching.
“Cla-Clark- fuck- wait- I’m gonna!” Your orgasm slams into you, clenching around his tongue. His groan has your vision sparking, lapping up the waves of arousal dribbling out. He doesn’t stop, not like he does normally to give you a moment. Clark’s tongue just keeps going, fucking your fluttering cunt through your orgasm. His fingers even slip inside. His eyes are glazed over and half lidded.
Your second orgasm arrives, almost painfully from how quick he brought you to completion. All the squirms and begs for a breather go unanswered.
“You can give me one more, right baby?” Clark pants, shoving his shorts down. “Please? Please, baby? You’re just so sexy…”
His cock bobs up and down, smears of pre-cum dripping from the purple tip. Despite your body screaming for mercy, your cunt pulses. “Yeah…”
Clark doesn’t say anything, just lunging forward into a kiss that’s sweeter than expected. “Love you so much, my perfect darling, best thing in the world-“
His head slides in easily, slick and spit helping him in. Clark only gives you a moment to adjust before his hips begin to roll, smooth and steady. Your lips part in a moan, letting his tongue slip in. The feeling of him fucking you into the couch, the taste of your pussy on his tongue, it’s heady.
His cock is heavy in you, each thrust knocking perfectly against that soft spot that you could never reach. Each throbbing vein pulsed against your plush walls. Clark’s hands paw at your breasts, your hips, thighs, anywhere.
“Love you, gonna love you forever, thank you thank you thank you-“ Clark babbles against your lips, pausing right as he thrusts in and grinding against that gooey spot. His pelvis grinds against your clit too. The combination of that perfect fullness, the grinding, that’s what sends you flying into your final orgasm. Your legs lock up around his waist as you scream.
Clark’s helpless, your pussy forcing his orgasm out. Long ropes of cum pulse out of his tip, filling you up. You can feel each twitch, each spurt.
After a few moments, Clark comes out of his stupor. “I love you, baby.”
You kiss his cheek. “Love you too.”
He carries you to the bathroom to clean you up finally, your face buried in his neck. A nap was sorely needed.
“Wait, my gym clothes, I gotta put them in the laundry.” You go to grab them, but Clark shakes his head. His ears go red.
“Don’t… I have a Justice League mission soon and uhm… I’m gonna be gone a few days. I wanna… bring them. Y’know.”
“Clark Jonathan Kent!”
But when he heads out on that mission? That little blue set’s tucked in his duffle bag, and his smile is blinding.
Could I please request OF Clark and the way he likes to play with himself? 
explicit 18+ naughty camboy clark is a dear friend to me
OF clark is a fucking tease. a cocky, smiley, horny little tease that flexes his biceps extra hard for the camera, likes doing push ups naked, and more often than not just tortures himself for all of his viewers too.
he’ll edge himself for days, weeks, up to a whole month to really get a good flood of cum and make sure he films it all the way through at the best up close angles. he slaps his heavy cock against the granite of the table and ends up leaking everywhere making a sticky disgusting mess. when he jerks off he’ll first put up a huge water bottle next to his dick just to give his subscribers the same size references he always loves to give. he’ll wear sweatpants low on his hips without any underwear so his bush hangs out, wiggling his hips ever so slightly until his dick is just dangling out and he shrugs to pretend it’s an accident before smiling and stroking his cock slow and tight.
he owns toys too. loves to fuck all of his toys. buys a vibrator to pulse on the head of his dick to make him cry and cum prematurely, buys a fleshlight to roleplay giving head and fingering it until he eases his cock in as if she’s a real girl that needs to get used to his size first. he’s the type to whimper and his fans absolutely love it, only times he gets more rough in his delivery of his dirty talk being whenever he’d edged for too long and drove himself mad from just how heavy his balls get when he doesn’t release. clark humps his pillow too and isn’t afraid to look pathetic. he’ll take tips from women that want him to moan out their name and he gladly will make himself sound as slutty and filthy and depraved as he possibly can so he knows he’s earned his tip. made all these women cum with his voice, his body, his bravado.
taught himself how to cum untouched and basically on command, dripping think and stringy globs of precum right near the lens of the camera so that the view is impeccable. he’ll take requests, ones like cumming untouched in his boxers, cumming on a viewer’s photo. he’ll cum all over his fleshlights for free (the kind of fleshlights that have tits, a belly, an ass and a pussy all in one) and whines. tells his viewers that’s how he could leave them. covered in all his cum and so fucked out that they’re gaping.
clark loves all the horny women that follow him, watch him, touch themselves to him. he’s addicted to the high he rides to make all these individuals get off to some eye candy and he’s never been embarrassed
What about horse cock Clark who fucks reader so hard she nearly passes out and it makes him all whimpery and whiny but he’s kinda proud of it
clark’s in deep. deep. his balls are touching her lips, he feels how deep her walls really go and if he flipped her over he’d probably see the fat lump of his cock bulging out of her stomach.
“there you go baby, you’ve got all of it in now. I know it’s a lot, I know.”
she’s screaming into her pillow to muffle the noise, her pussy gripping him in a slippery warm hug while he smoothes his dick all the way out, runs the tip back to her clit, then slides it all the way back in. she loves how many places he can caress, can hit all her grooves and fill her up so much that when she clenches she can feel how connected they are to the brim.
“knew you could do it. s’this feel good? you like all this dick inside you or do you want a smaller one?”
she squeals into her pillow and shakes her head adamantly, clenching down to non verbally emphasize to him what her answer to that stupid question was. he challenges her again, shoving it all the way in so deep that she leaks some fluid on him on the pull out, fresh cream gracing his dick making him grin and push himself back in, closing his eyes with his mouth open.
“huh? I didn’t get an answer baby, you like feeling full of dick this big or do you wanna go back to your ex’s small one?”
“no! no, no clark, just yours. I only need yours.”
“atta girl,” he chuckles, resuming his pace when he got the answer that he wanted. it took only a few more minutes of him gliding himself in balls deep and watching her wither and cry until he’s turning into a whiny mess himself.
“oh god, oh god baby that’s so good, your pussy was made for this dick,” he whimpers. has to hold out and harshly grip the base of his dick on one pull out so that he doesn’t bust prematurely. she grinds back against him and doesn’t seem to give a shit that he was trying to hold himself back with his hand, pushing her ass forwards so that she could swallow up more of his cock.
“baby I’m gonna cum if you keep going like that,” clark warns with a shaky breath, losing his composure when she still points her ass up and clenches.
“I need it. fuck me harder. I need you to ruin me.”
clark hums through another whimper and gathers himself. wipes some sweat lingering off his forehead and then grabs her hips to hold her in place.
“yeah? you want it hard and fast?”
“fucking yes—“
clark doesn’t even let her finish her thought before he’s slamming in and already making her gasp. he yanks himself out and then quickly slams himself back in, repeatedly angling himself in ways that hit up against all of her favorite spots. a bigger mess starts to gather on his dick, and both of them have turned into a crying, whining mess, matching each other’s moans while he moves with so much ferocity and momentum that the bed creaks and pushes up against the wall.
he can feel it when she cums, twice in quick succession, falling apart on his dick while she screams into her pillow and lazily grinds back. clark isn’t far behind, not at all. a few vicious pumps later and he’s spurting everything he’s held inside, cum dribbling between her pussy lips and already starting to fall out while he whines and tries to catch up with her. she doesn’t move after that. doesn’t speak. her head is still shoved in the pillow, deep breaths that at least tell him she’s still alive, and he taps her shoulder, shakes her gently to check in and see if she’s really okay.
“baby, baby is everything okay? was it too hard? I should’ve gone slower. gosh….”
his eyebrows pinch in when his mind floods with worry, turning her over to find that he just fucked her right to sleep.
when she hums lazily, more than half asleep, letting him know she’s okay without even lifting her eyes, she quickly drifts back to her wonderland and her breathing deepens once again. clark laughs while he gets up to fetch her a towel for the mess still spilling down her legs, wipes her clean with a warm rag. he leans in and kisses her forehead before pulling her in his arms, smug as he realizes he just fucked her so good that she didn’t wait even a beat until she was passing out. it pulls a smirk on his face as he rubs her shoulder, observes her as she sleeps. she didn’t get up for over an hour, only briefly to chug some of the water he left on her side table before passing out yet again. clark sees how relaxed, how loose and drowsy and still more worry-free than she’s ever been after taking his dick all the way to her stomach. it puts pride in his heart to know how he’s capable of giving it to her so good she loses consciousness
. . .
I love this and also also consider…… clark fucking her so hard and so deep she gets a nosebleed
everyone thinking clark and his girlfriend are the most vanilla, sweet, innocent couple because of how they act around each other and present as a team — never cursing or fighting, never drinking or getting belligerent, never lying or betraying anybody including and especially to each other. they were the golden couple. they only amp up that image to everybody even more when clark buys them promise rings. everyone thinks it’s sweet, cute as a button how virginal they both are and are waiting for marriage. they’ve only ever seen him give her a kiss on her cheek or her forehead, rub her arm, hug her in a warm embrace and whisper their adorable inside jokes.
but in the private space of their bedroom, they’ve done just about everything but.
even before clark got them the rings.
every night, he whimpers her name and ‘please’ on repeat right in her neck, wearing nothing but his glasses. grinding his cock up and down the front slit of her pretty, glistening pussy like he’s a horny little bunny that couldn’t ever be sated.
“it doesn’t count, right? if I don’t put it in, mmmmuhhh— oh, god — if I don’t put it in then we’re still virgins,” he pants. still humping her up and down, their parts rutting up against one another as they both implode from the friction. she grinds her clit back, bumping it up against his head and all his throbbing veins, and nods her head up and down, agreeing.
“of course baby, just keep going, we can cum like this as much as we want. it won’t count.”
“oh, oh my, yes, yes please! I have to keep going. I’m about to cum. it’s gonna get all over your pretty little pussy.”
he learns all his dirty talk from the dirty movies they’ve watched too. apart from his instincts and his imagination, and of course all his grunts and movements were purely primal.
“it looks so big when you press it up against me. I don’t know how it’s gonna fit when we get married,” she gasps, watching him rut like a dog and how it goes past her belly button. it’s sloppy, slippery, jutting around from all the blood that’s filled up. his sac is even heavy against her too. the way it bounces against her hole, gives her another part of him to clench onto too.
“shhh, we’ll make it fit. I won’t let it hurt you. we’ll be nice and wet together, just like this, then it’ll just… it’ll just slide right in,” he gulps. losing any other words that are left to say the more he thinks about it. “we’ll feel so good. and you’re gonna be my wife.”
“keep — keep going baby, don’t stop now,” she pleads. clark nods immediately, kissing on her neck while he humps her even faster. the slick is audible, gushing in between them as they whimper and slide.
“they think I don’t even touch you,” clark hums a laugh, slobbering on her throat through a wet, lazy kiss. “mmm. they think I haven’t even seen you naked. they don’t know I can still make this pussy feel good without even putting it in.”
she sprawls out her legs even wider, mouth open as she has her toes further up in the air, letting him take over their gyrating completely as they both leak all over each other.
“let’s cum together, honey. let me make you feel good. let go for me, cum on me. I wanna make this pussy feel nice and happy.”
clark ruts harder, faster. kisses her chin and swallows up his favorite noises that leave her mouth when they both feel the electric dip in their bellies. both of them clench, clark’s tip stills and presses up right against her clit while he lets out his long, gushing first spurt. she cums just as he’s creaming all over her clit, making a mess of her mound and even up to her stomach. they both roar and hum and whine as they rub out their highs, the splatter of all the evidence of their innocent fun coated all over her as they catch up to their wild heartbeats.
he kisses her and hums all his praises right into her mouth, some of it even nonsense as he slaps his filthy, heavy wet tip back on the lips of her pussy and the hood of her clit.
“you um, felt good? jeez, it’s so wet….”
clark is in awe at her shiny center, enthralled while he plays with the mess a little more. he gets shy and ducks his head back with a laugh and says he’s sorry if she’s too overstimulated. she laughs right back at him and shook her head, wrapping one leg around his hips to trap him back in.
“you can keep playing. it’s all yours.”
“it’s ours. our mess… and gosh is it pretty,” he breathes, rolling his head and tapping the sopping wet folds. “prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I can’t wait to be your wife.”
“well I can’t wait to be your husband,” clark retorts, pointedly looking at her and leaning in to give her a warm, selfish kiss.
“can’t wait to feel you inside me. all the way,” she whispers. holds onto his face.
“I’ll make you feel so good. I already can’t keep my hands off you.”
“and they’ll never know.”
“nope,” clark grins.
eventually, shortly after clark proposed they graduated to ‘just the tip’ making both of them cum after only a few shallow pumps of clark tearing her open with just his crowned head. and he grazes her g-spot with the most perfect angle to drive them both crazy. but in public, with their matching shiny engagement rings gracing their fingers, they still are perceived as modest as can be.
roommate best friend Clark who reader convinced to suck on her pussy when he’s home sick as she’s his new mommy . Best friend Clark who wants to have his face pressed on her pussy when he sleeps. Best friend Clark who has to suck on her pussy to fall asleep and feel safe . Best friend Clark who has to at least suck in it for a good hour in the morning to even think straight.
warning(s): explicit 18+ mommy kink, panic attacks, clark has separation anxiety and finds relief between his mommy’s legs
clark rubs his arm as he anxiously paces back and forth in the night, careful to try and keep his impending panic attack quiet as to not wake his roommate who was only a few feet and a thin wall away. a noisy owl had sat in the tree just outside his bedroom window, echoing a call over and over and not adding anything positive to his vulnerable headspace. not to mention the frequent nightmares lately have frightened him right out of bed, trying his best to somehow calm himself down with an ice pack to his forehead and a few desperate gulps of tap water from the sink in their kitchen.
he feels lonely at times like this, homesick for the farm he was raised in, for his parents that had always checked in on his night terrors like these with soothing back rubs and a warm glass of milk for all his ails. now he’s states away from them with stacks of bills and responsibilities, and being away from his safe, trusted loved ones and only main support system has been the biggest mental battle he’s ever fought.
with a plain frown, he scratches his back before throwing his blanket over his body and tip toeing downstairs, hoping some fresh air might do something for his nervous system. every step is carefully placed as to not creek the floor, every move so methodically planned. he hugs himself as he grabs the carton from the fridge and fills a glass up with milk and microwaves it until it’s warm. careful not to let the alarming beep go off before he hugs it to his chest and takes a thick sip as he slowly slides the back door open and steps out.
the air is crisp, with a subtle wind blowing and shaking some of the leaves off the trees in the distance. clark makes a point to keep the main light turned off as to not be noticed and takes thoughtful sips of his milk, looking up at the stars. it could’ve been ten, twenty minutes for all he knew that he’d stayed like that outside. trying to get ahold of his racing thoughts and anxieties manifesting from his fear of being so far away from home. his ma and pa still call to check in on him every now and then and check in to see if his nightmares are still as bad as they were when he was a child. clark is always assuring them that he’s doing just fine even if he’s lying through his teeth. they care enough to notice the dip in his voice while he lies, but they don’t prod any further if he wasn’t opening the door to talking himself through it. they figure he has new friends of his own in his life that he can confide in.
a helpless tear rolls down from his left eye before he can stop it, an unexpected sob rushing from his throat after he finishes his glass of milk and sets it down on the side table. in a quick, anxious attempt to conceal the noise of his sobs he covers his mouth and shields his face with the blanket, knowing that the tears were still coming and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop them. all’s he could do was let them out and hope for the best that he isn’t making noise, that this is just going to be one bad night and that tomorrow night will be better.
his eyes are red and exhausted from his hands angrily scrubbing over them. since he’s in the dark he thinks he’s in the clear.
when he thinks the worst wave of it is over, he tries to swallow the lump in his throat and gets up to head back to the kitchen for another glass of milk, and gets stopped in his tracks from the kitchen light turning on.
like a vampire in the sun, he flinches and covers his face, head going down in shame while he sniffles and tries acting like he wasn’t just crying his heart out like a pathetic loner on the back porch. his roommate, squinting with her own glass of milk in hand, scratches her bird’s nest of bed head and lazily smiles at clark.
“oh. hey! I didn’t know you were out there. I was about to lock you out,” she says casually, yawning and sipping her glass before she notices the great lengths he’s going to avoid her gaze. “woah. are you—hey, are you okay?”
all clark can muster is a piss poor excuse for a blatant lie of “yeah.” his voice even cracks too, adding a cherry on top of a very pathetic cake.
she doesn’t blink or even think for a second before she’s rushing over. the sweetheart that she is. her warm hands felt like a hot stove up against his cool cheeks, pushing her thumbs up his chin so his face can’t hide from her anymore, and she sees it. she sees it all. the tear stained cheeks, the red, puffy eyes, the snot probably still stuck in his nose.
“I’m fine—“ he tries to squeal, the sniffling not helping his case. she looks at him with deep, sincere concern in her eyes, doesn’t speak for a long moment before bringing him in a long, warm bear hug. and clark’s water works begin all over again. sobs wreck his throat, tears gush out to his cheeks and down his jaw, tickling him. he says he’s sorry, says he doesn’t know why he’s acting like this, says he didn’t mean to wake her up and that he’ll make it up to her if he did.
“clark, don’t apologize. don’t apologize.”
she brushes the back of his hair and rubs along his back over his blanket still shielding him. clark says sorry again anyway, desperate to assure her that nothing is wrong, nothing happened, he just ‘gets like this sometimes.’
“I know we don’t talk a lot about things beyond the surface level bullshit, but you’re seriously breaking my heart right now. you can absolutely talk to me, get off whatever is heavy on your mind,” she murmurs. rocks him back and forth in her arms while he towers over her with his stature.
he chuckles through a sob at that, ducking into her shoulder and lets himself get rocked like a baby. can’t help himself but to relish in the warm, inviting embrace, nuzzling himself into her like she’s his lifeline.
“I uh, I just get… I get real homesick. and lonely. I miss my parents, it’s been h—hard to adjust being away from them, they’re all I had for so long,” clark musters to speak, voice quivering through more than half of his words. she offers him her glass of milk with a raised brow, to which he smiles and graciously takes the glass, hesitating at first but ultimately giving in and taking a sip. it did wonders for his throat, thickly swallowing and carefully going in for another before he sets it down on the counter and sheepishly goes back in for another hug, bending his neck down to shove his face back in her shoulder. of course she smells so comforting, and it was addicting already to sniff her hair that was graced with the fresh scent of that shampoo that sat in their shower. it really soothed him to be held, to be held by her, specifically — his beautiful, patient, kind and understanding roommate of three months that hasn’t made a single complaint about living with him, and on paper really hasn’t given clark a single reason to not feel like he could open himself up to her like this. he supposed his nerves always got in the way.
“what do you miss about home the most?”
clark pulls back and looks at her, turning red when she wipes a stray tear away and holds onto his face. “I um, I miss… I miss getting physical touch, physical touch like this,” he admits. “I miss my ma’s homemade bread. I miss both my parents helping me with—with my nightmares,” he swallows, averting his eyes to the floor with a bite of his lower lip. “they’d stay up with me, warm me up some milk, tell me that I’m not alone. I can’t… I just can’t seem to get any sleep when I’m alone,” he breathes out.
she nods her head slowly in understanding. gets up on her tippy toes to give his cheek a kiss, and clark reels from the contact, clenching his jaw and rapidly blinking his eyes while he wonders if what just happened really just happened.
“let’s get you some more warm milk, then I’m taking you up to my room. sound good?”
. . .
clark cluelessly follows her back upstairs to her bedroom, awkwardly stepping as he’s led by her hand in his. she took it to heart when he said he missed physical affection, and her hands have stayed on him since.
her room has always looked cooler than clark’s. posters decked out on the walls, bohemian plants strung out and framing along her window. she has a diffuser that makes the room smell soft and almost tropical. used bras and panties strung along her full hamper, and the sight makes him try to stifle a smile, rubbing his lips together.
“come here,” she guides. laying on one side of her bed, leaving plenty of room for him to get in right beside her. she expectedly holds her hand out for him, watching intently as he carefully sets his full glass of milk down and shuffles into the empty side of the bed, unsure of where his long limbs should really go.
“you can spread out you know. don’t have to stay crumbled up in a ball all night.”
it could have come out snarky, sarcastic, witty — but it comes out sincere instead, like she didn’t want to just watch him remain so uncomfortable.
with a thoughtful sigh, he gives in and spreads his legs out, grazing hers in the process and holds onto his blanket with his other hand that wasn’t grasped in hers. of course it dawned on him how intimate this really was, how she saw him cry and her first actions were to hold him, talk to him, give him more milk. it strangely makes his lower belly start to tingle almost with what felt like butterflies while he works himself up about how maternal his roommate really was towards him. the rocking back and forth in their hug, the gentle reassurance, the open ears that didn’t judge him for a split second.
it fills him with another burst of emotion, enough to make him get on his knees and start to cry again.
he turns towards her, finding she was already looking at him, wondering what the hell he was probably thinking so loud about.
“thank you,” he licks his lips. “thank you for doing this. for being kind to me. I don’t really cry in front of people except my family. I don’t mean to dump all of my problems on you.”
she shakes her head and scoots closer, slowly reaching an arm over his chest, testing to see if it’s boundary crossing or if it comforts him. clark scoots further into her, rushing to answer the quiet question: how close can they really get?
“you’re not dumping anything if I wanna hear it,” she replies. “hate to see a face this pretty cry like that.”
clark’s lip wiggles as if on queue, still chuckling through another little sob wrecking through him while he scrambles to wipe an incoming tear.
“no, no baby, let it out. don’t hold any of it in anymore.”
and with that, clark lets the floodgates open.
he cries again, less soft and quiet as his meltdown outside. this one is thundering, takes over his whole being while his head closes in on her touch while she shushes him and hugs him to her, kissing his wet cheeks while he lets everything else he’s held in come to the forefront.
she hands him a tissue after a minute, letting him blow his nose and drain his mucus, balling up the tissue into his fist to not dirty her side table with any of his germs even if they were bunched up in a napkin.
“does that feel a little better? drink your milk, baby. don’t forget about it.”
he nods and stutters to grab the glass and chug, finishing most of it in one foul swoop before wiping the corners of his lips for stray drips.
she gently fusses with his hair, brushing it in different directions so he never misses out on any physical contact. her leg even crosses over his lap, cooing in his ear that he’s never gonna be alone, not ever again.
clark curls in on her, looking smaller than he ever has even with his frame and build. he lets out hurried little boyish uh-huh’s when she repeats to him over and over, you are safe. and you are not alone.
when he’s floating in a post-cry haze, eyes so swollen he feels like he could’ve gotten punched, a name falls from his lips without his upstairs brain’s full knowledge like it was instinctual.
“mommy…”
the pets never stop. not a single inch of her body reacts, no limb even moving to push him off of her bed. if anything she gets even closer, if that was even possible.
while he nuzzles his nose into her neck, she caresses his back and hums. not giving any indication that he’s said anything out of line.
so he surrenders and says it yet again.
“mommy, mommy I need you so much,” clark whimpers. tries to hold in more of the seemingly endless supply of pathetic tears he’s held back and bottled up for far too long, all his jumbled emotions coming in a whirlwind at the first feeling of someone touching him, someone seeing him and his pain and not running away or letting him go to bed scared and alone.
“you’ve got me. I know. and you’ve got me,” she affirms. kisses the top of his head, never stopping the circles on his back. “you’ve got mommy.”
clark’s tone is hopeful when he looks up at her face to read her as best he can in the dim light, leaning in to her as she cups his cheek.
“I… I do?”
“of course you do. mommy’s right here.”
. . .
this had become a nightly ritual.
a strict, no nonsense break of their curated routine. if clark had a troublesome day and marched up to his room after work, she let him sit it out alone for no more than twenty minutes before she was knocking on his door, crawling on his lap, asking him to let it all out for mommy once again.
if clark had a good day, he would tell her about it too. how he didn’t get any bad feedback by his supervisor on his report, how he got to pet one of the stray cats in their neighborhood that were notorious for running away at the sight of any people.
she praised him when he needed it, smothered him when he needed it. held him too of course whenever he looked hungry for her affection.
she mothered him in a way that made him feel a way he truly hadn’t felt before, and that alone brought up another string of anxieties. about not being enough, about being too much. too needy. too much of a little boy. too much of a momma’s boy.
there were even times she’d have to ring it out of him, what he was feeling. she could read every facial expression that passed over his face like the back of her hand. and it was always taken in a stride. she tells him he’s silly for overthinking like that, but that it’s okay to tell her these things, and that he shouldn’t let thoughts like those start to even fester. because she’s all in.
after one particularly treacherous nightmare he wakes up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily and trying to self soothe with his blanket. in a fit of frustration he kicks off the comforter and of course, in turn, wakes her right up.
“baby boy,” she reaches up for him. knows what’s wrong from the second he stares up at the ceiling, stubborn with a frown stuck on his face. “is it too hot for you?”
clark breathes in deep, fights the thoughts in his head that tell him he’s a freak for needing so much love and so much attention, and leans in to kiss her right on the lips, whimpering in her mouth when she automatically reciprocates.
“mommy,” he smacks his lips against hers, smelling the natural scent coming off of her from her neck. “mommy please. please.”
“tell mommy what you need.”
“I need your kisses,” clark full on whines. doesn’t hold anything back, doesn’t minimize his needs. gives it to her straight. she’s never punished him for telling his truth before, and she wouldn’t start now.
“I wanna touch you, mommy,” he swallows. “can I please…”
his hand shakily trails down her side, feeling goosebumps make way on her skin. it makes him lick and bite his lips, leaning in for another warm, needy kiss that threatens to grow even deeper while he preciously tries to glide his tongue in her mouth and lick along hers.
“you can touch mommy. I know what you need.”
clark’s cock shamefully fills and rolls up against his belly at her words, aching for some stimulation as he trails more kisses from her face, to her jaw, to her neck. hands exploring lower than anywhere his hands have ever explored before. they drift down to her hip, to her waistband, to her stomach and breasts.
“take care of me so good, mommy, always…. I just wanna be a good boy to you. wanna be a good boy for you,” he hums. she beams from his complete one-eighty change in disposition, from his sulking, shivering ball of anxiety into this flourishing, outspoken, touchy boy that knows to voice what he needs.
“can I… I wanna—“
his words are cut off by an unabashed groan when her hand grabs his and stuffs it down her panties, letting his fingers feel the pearly skin of her naked pussy, no layers in between.
“momma you’re so soft,” he whispers. doesn’t let himself tighten his hand over her mound too hard, gently pressing his palm in and applying a slow, easy pressure. his fingers have already started to get a little wet, and that did things to him that he won’t ever be moving on from. “pussy’s so warm. feels so perfect, mommy.”
she grinds into his touch subtly, hips raising up in heated figure eights while he kisses her and swallows up the moans she lets out too, mirroring his to a T.
“I need it. I need to.”
she doesn’t fight or protest anything as he ducks his head and crawled down the bed until his face was right between her open legs.
“take off mommy’s panties. go on, don’t have to be my shy boy. indulge yourself, baby.”
clark nods his head again, eager to follow orders when he pulls them down in a swift motion, dropping them to the floor off the edge of the bed. nothing could stop him from going in, from taking that last final step. he hums like he’s just found the most decadent meal to eat as he stuffs his face into her pussy, wiggling his tongue over her clit, gliding the flat of it down her lips and her hole. it weeps and clenches down and makes squelchy noises the more he sucks, and it’s so juicy and ripe that clark can feel his own dick pulsing even if he’s still completely untouched.
he moans and keeps scarfing down, sheepish voice muffled, only the words please and mommy able to be deciphered.
that tongue proves itself to become a dangerous addiction while she humps against his face, grinding her clit up to his nose while he fucks his tongue up to breach her g-spot and thrust it in and out like his face only existed at her leisure. it was rejuvenating, it was astonishing, how close to another human being he’s felt since he first cried in her arms and showed her sides of himself he never wanted to claim as his own. he hopes his tongue can do the talking, can tell her how much he appreciates her and hopes to give her as much as he takes.
she curses and slams her hips upwards when he curls his tongue so right, nudging her clit with the bridge of his nose with the right pressure and humming in a way that felt divine. clark continues his feast and stares up at her to watch her fall apart, to watch her feel good. her mouth is wide open and her eyes squeeze shut while her pussy walls quiver and gush against his mouth. it felt heavenly, like a religious experience to feel her cumming against his mouth. to get to suckle on her clit and watch his mommy lose it.
when he licks her clean she laughs and pulls his face away, too overstimulated to allow him to keep going. as he gives in despite wanting to stay right where he was, he switches gears to her inner thighs and lays the wettest kisses all over her, cum still smeared all over his lips and chin.
“you taste so good mommy. you fed me so well,” he mutters, licking her spend off his face with his outstretched tongue, leaning in to her hold on his pink cheeks.
“you all full? don’t wanna leave my baby boy hungry,” she whispers. plays with his hair again, one of his favorite forms of her attention and affection.
he closes his eyes and hums, says he’s all full now and ready to go back to sleep. doesn’t care that he ends up faceplanting right between her thighs, cheek laying directly on her naked pussy as he snoozed away with no night terrors getting in the way of his peaceful rest.
she was the antidote. to all his homesick worries, to all of his outside failures and personal interior failures, she was always there to put a lid on all of his troubles again whenever the lid flies off.
the habit became a habit because the high never seemed to wear off, soothing himself by getting his head between her thighs and kissing her pussy or licking her pussy until he was slowly falling asleep. he’s been out like a light with his airways nearly blocked by her crotch, nearly dead to the world in a deep sleep that he couldn’t ever have on his own.
the nightmares eased down the more he gave in to his desires, humping her leg and shamelessly screaming mommy when he cums. eating her out for a good hour at the very least every night so he feels high and buzzed off of pleasing her. taking care of her. thanking her.
“mommy, mommy you’re the best. you’re so beautiful. m’so lucky I have you.”
“I’m so lucky to have you, baby boy. and if you ever need to eat before bed, just eat. you need to be fed.”
so clark eats. he eats to think straight before work, he eats for a good several hours in bed after dark to feel the rush of her cum sticking to his lips. he lives to come home and make his mommy feel good, to make himself feel good. even eats to make himself feel safe again.
she never downplays the affect it has on him, the way it’s comforted him like never before. she knows it’s more than just a bedtime treat for him.
a couple nights in a row he even has her sit down on his face and ride, gladly licking up everything that drips out of her and having her cum against his nose at least three times before they both pass out, her legs still trapped over his face with her head shoved in the pillow.
after several months of their ritual he officially moves into her bedroom, hardly ever going into his old one unless he went for a new change of clothes, still preferring to go straight back to their shared room to change.
once in a while in public he’s let it quietly slip, his little voice uttering a helpless mommy if he’s on the verge of a panic attack. she of course identifies when he needs her touch more than ever to ground him back to reality and step out of the anxieties that plagued his head. and sometimes, only sometimes does he end up dragging her to the nearest family restroom and make his mommy take off her panties so he can soothe himself with his mouth back on her clit to suck.
little sequel here + part three
. . .
I got so carried away with him being sad and homesick and how lonely poor baby would feel, and how he needs a mom-like figure to worship and get love and attention from.
anyways let me know how this was I love a sub mommy kink clark so much and he has angst inside him I know it
Summary : Clark comes home from the daily planet starving. But not for food.
CONTENTS - Oral (f receiving) , Clark is a munch , swearing , foggy glasses , hair pulling , playful biting ; kitchen counter. Dining table. Pussy talker 🫵; use of freeze breath. Whining. Smug Clark , squirting , slight masterbation, cum in pants
Word count 1.5k
SEXUAL CONTENT BELOW THE CUT
MDNI. (18+)
☆👓 ☆💋 ☆👓 ☆👓 ☆💋 ☆👓 ☆👓 ☆💋 ☆👓 ☆
Clark got back from a long stressful day at the Daily Planet. A long. Long day. Thinking all about you, how he left you that morning for work and you were wearing his shirt and a pretty little thong. He spent all day trying to focus on his work. Like he should. But how could he when you were at home.
As soon as he got through the door you were in the kitchen making a drink, Wasting no time whatsoever he walks over and you feel two arms wrap around your waist pulling you even closer to his chest and he dives kisses on your neck inhaling your scent. A soft giggle leaves your lips and you tilt your head back to kiss him, he returns the kiss deeply turning you around to face him and lifting you off the ground slightly.
He set you down gently looking at you like you hung the moon and has a boyish grin on his face and you just beam at him taking a sip of your icy drink and offer it to him, he smiles taking a sip and passes it back. "How was your day baby... get any good stories?" You asked gently always eager to hear his work stories.
"It was good , though I think I need to have another interview with superman, How was your day honey?" he puts quotes around the word superman using his fingers and you roll your eyes at him at the irony and sip your drink again before speaking up again.
"I'm sure he'll find time for you, my day was good thanks Clark..just.. rotted .. watched tv.. the usual for a day off" He leaned over and kissed your forehead still with a glint of something else in his eyes.
"Did my girl eat today?" He brushes a hand through your hair almost cooing at you gently.
"I did baby.. got something small before ... have you eaten?" You return the question knowing exactly how much he dove into his work and forgot to eat. He nods softly grinning even more "I had something small too. But I'm starving baby.. worked up an awful appetite."
Your face fell instantly. You loved taking care of your man and he was starving??? That just wasn't okay. Not happening. "Oh! Clark I'll make you something up baby , what do you feel like?" You frowned darting to the fridge and he let out a deep chuckle at how sweet you were sometimes.
"Come here sweetheart." His voice was a deep tone that immediately caused a heat between your legs. Who would refuse that. You walked over and he leaned down slightly cupping your face and kissing you deeply. Almost starved. It took your breath away as his tongue slides into your mouth dancing with your own. The taste of coffee and something minty lingered on his tongue.
He pulls away voice smug and proud "wanna eat you up baby... s'that okay?" The answer got stuck in your throat within seconds. He tilts his head sweetly almost taunting you.
"Superman got your tongue baby?" He chuckled again.
"Yes baby.. s'more than okay!" The second the words leave your mouth he's already scooping you up and placing you on the counter and taking your soaked thong off placing it in his pocket , lifting his shirt you were wearing and looking at your dripping wet folds with a proud grin. He coos tauntingly and drags his index finger up your folds coaxing his fingers and giving them a quick lick to try you.
"Awe she's soaked f'me baby.. all ready.. ..." He kneels down ever so slightly to be level with your pussy.
"Oh I missed you sweet little thing" He coos playfully at your pussy biting your thigh before looking up at you "and you honey!" He dips his head between your legs making you gasp softly as he laps at your wet folds kissing your clit. His glasses getting nudged in thr process , But my god he didn't even care. He started lapping like a starved man and humming against your pussy and throwing your legs over his shoulder, his hands gripping onto your thighs hard Enough to bruise.
He was achingly hard. He loved your pussy. Could live between your thighs for days. “She tastes so good baby" He whimpered against your clit sucking more and lapping his tongue rapidly. He brings two fingers towards your sopping wet hole and pushes them in gently making you yank at his hair and he looks up, glasses crooked and fogged up , you could feel him smile against your pussy as he fucks his fingers into you rapidly working in tandem with his tongue flicking at your clit. And he was getting harder. You were getting closer whimpering rutting against his mouth knocking your drink over from before. The cold icy liquid hitting you makes you gasp and arch your back more pushing him deeper into your pussy.
"Oh fuck!" You squeal water splashing everywhere and he pulls off tutting making you whine from the loss of contact and how close you were.
"you're makin such a mess baby... don't worry I'll take care of it." He scoops you up so your legs wrap around his waist definitely getting your juices soaked on his shirt and kisses you deeply , you can taste yourself on his tongue and feel how hard he is. His glasses beyond crooked and he quickly fixed them.
He lays you down on the dining table and you shriek at him. "Clark! We fucking eat on this table." You scold him and once again he leans down with a proud boyish unbothered grin. He needed you more.
"That's exactly what I'm doing baby.. I'm eating." He slams his mouth back between your thighs with more hunger than before and you shriek yanking on his hair throwing your legs around him to get him closer and he whimpers against your pussy. his air getting cut off slightly. But this is exactly what he wanted. His dick throbbing painfully already forming a dark wet patch in his pants.
For a moment he reaches his hand down to palm himself through his pants only groaning more as he laps up your juices and curlinghis tongue in and out of your hole making you whimper and thrash. You were a fucking mess. Dripping all over his face. He jerks himself off harder tugging on your clit slightly. He groans so hard and you squirm, he rapidly holds your legs down more not stopping for a moment to breathe.
"Can I try something for her baby? Think she'd like it" he coos waiting for your reply. You nod close to tears and suddenly you feel a sharp cooling sensation on your clit as he uses his freeze breath gently. You shriek louder thrashing and he reaches a hand up pushing your stomach down so you can't move.
He returns his fingers to your sopping hole and fucks you rapidly with them stretching your gummy walls out and letting you soak him and clamp around him even more still using the freeze breath and switching between that and his tongue, "HOLY FUCK CLARK" You belt out sobbing yanking on his hair even harder. He groans and whimpers against you as he completely comes undone in his pants.
The coil grew tighter and you can feel it in the pit of your stomach almost making you light headed.
"Clark! Wait ! No.. I'm gonna - " Before you can even finish you feel a gushing sensation as you squirt harshly onto his face , some of it splattering onto his glasses and all over the dining table and his pants had a massive wet patch from his own orgasm. He laps it all up. "She did so good baby.. you're so good for me"
You gasp breathing heavily and he lifts his head. His glasses fogged up and covered in your juices. He chuckles taking off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt before helping you sit up and kissing you softly wiping your tears away shushing you gently , the other hand at the back of your head.
"Fixed your appetite?" You ask sweetly and he chuckles nodding "best meal ever ,still could eat though, unfortunately eating you out isn't a balanced diet." He guides you to the bedroom and you both get changed, him in plaid pants and a white shirt and you his shirt and cozy shorts.
When you get back to the kitchen he grabs paper towels and cleaning up the kitchen counter and then the dining table. Throwing it away before turning to you.
"You feel like takeout? Everyone loves eating out" He grins smugly and you roll your eyes at him and smile.
"Takeout sounds good baby"
"Atta girl honey.. I'll pay for it" he leans over and kisses you deeply and lovingly. "Least I could do" He coos stroking your hair gently and then leaning down to rub your back as he always did.
☆👓 ☆💋 ☆👓 ☆👓 ☆💋 ☆👓 ☆👓 ☆💋 ☆👓 ☆
HII BEAUTIFUL SOULS.
How is everyone????
Thank you for reading this (if you made it this far!)
Thank you for the support as always :)) drop a follow (please have age in bio)
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I am literally on my way to go write the Scott one LMAO
Summary : As sweet as you are ! You just can’t help your obsession with his biceps!
Contents : swearing ,P IN V UNPROTECTED,breath control , talking you through it , softish dom Clark , headlock , overstimulation, edging! Established relationship!! Drooling.
1.5k words
SEXUAL CONTENT BELOW THE CUT
MDNI !!
Clark's biceps were no joke thanks to his kryptonian genes. Big. Always bulging out of his shirt begging to get out. And considering you were such a sweetheart in his eyes. He had no idea why you were so obsessed with them. Always squeezing them. Or when he'd be at work and get a "bicep pic pls I miss you!" Text from you. Whatever his baby wanted.
But he would never judge you , you liked what you liked. And you love him. He loves you. He absolutely doesn't mind when you wrap a ribbon around them. Bite them. Hug them in your sleep. They could crush you if he wasn't careful.
One day you had asked him to put you in a headlock during sex. You had never seen a man say no so fast before. And he saw the disappointment in your face and was fast to reassure you.
"Baby I just don't wanna hurt you" He had cooed.
But you were persistent. Begging him. Reassuring him.
Then he started to think about it a little. Then a lot.
So he came home and saw you in the kitchen and immediately walks over wrapping his arms around you , clamping your arms in a bone crushing hug and a huge wet smooch on your cheek.
"Hey honey! God you smell amazing!" He coos in your ear making you giggle gently and tilt your head back to peck his lips placing your hands over his arms.
He sways you side to side peppering more kisses on your neck making you gasp slightly.
"So I've been thinking baby..." He starts humming softly still pressing kisses and you raise an eyebrow at him. "Okay Kent what are you up to?" You giggle and feel him pull his bicep up to your neck lightly tugging into a gentle headlock. Your heart thudded instantly.
"A little birdie told me she wants to try somethin new, is that right little birdie hmm?" He mumbles in your ear making a warmth grow between your legs. You nod frantically and he turns you around gently.
"Okay.. honey please if we're gonna do this .. you have got to tap me if I'm hurtin you .. okay?" He brushes some hair behind your ear.
"I promise you Clark!" The grin on your face was unmistakable.
He leans down and kisses you deeply, pouring all of his love and desperation into it. The scent of his cologne mixed with coffee and ink lingered.
His tongue glides gently against yours groaning slightly as he pushes you against the counter. You can feel the tent in his pants brushing against your leg.
He pulls away tilting your head up even more. "Go wait on the bed baby... on all fours f'me! I'll be there in a minute!" He coos watching you walk away. He actually has to take a moment to lean against the counter to compose himself before going to the bedroom.
And there you were on all fours. Naked and soaking wet already waiting patiently for him. The sight caused a groan to slip from his lips and you look over your shoulder watching him strip off until he's naked , his muscles bulging , his dick twitching and veins throbbing. The tip a swollen red and he approaches you slowly climbing behind you.
"Does my girl need prepping or are you too desperate for that too huh?" He coos dragging his tip along your soaking wet folds making you shriek heart racing , the ache between your legs starting to hurt.
"No no!! Please Clark" you begged him and watched his eyes darken and a sweet grin on his face. He wastes no time guiding his entire thick length inside your tight wet walls. Spreading your ass cheeks to push himself as deep as possible. A loud groan slipping from his lips and a whimper from you feeling yourself all stretched out.
"Jeez baby.. been waiting for me all day haven't you huh? " He coos pulling all the way out and burying himself to the hilt making you shriek.
"Oh she's perfect baby!" He grins slowly fucking his hips into you and your eyes roll back feeling him deep in your guts.
He leans over you being careful not to crush you with his body weight wrapping his bicep around your neck. Not tugging yet.
"Take a deep breath for me baby?" He coos and you take a deep breath filling your air with lungs before he tugs his bicep tightly putting you in a headlock restricting your air slightly making you gasp.
"Atta girl." He kisses your cheek rutting his hips deeper in you making you weakly squeal. The lack of air making you dizzy and clamp around him. But you were exactly where you wanted to be.
"Gosh baby.. she's squeezin me so tight.. didn't think you'd like it this much!" His thrusts grow deep as he presses kisses to your cheek and you whine. You felt yourself slipping away and getting close. And all of a sudden he loosens his bicep from around your neck and pulls out.
You gasped for air whining and he makes a tutting noise. "Not so soon baby! I wanna have fun with this!" He presses another kiss to your cheek tugging your head back to peck your lips.
"Another deep breath in for me sweet baby?" You nod taking a deep breath and it's ripped from you as he slams back inside you making you shriek.
"Shh sorry sorry.. i gotchu baby" He coos pulling you back into a headlock cutting off your air again.
"You're doing so good.. squeezing me so tight.. you're soakin me honey" He groans in your ear squeezing around your neck even tighter. You were going dizzy. The combination of his dick rutting deeply between your dripping wet hole and not being able to breathe oh you were so close to passing out.
You didn't even notice how close you were.
Again he loosens his arm and pulls out again leaving you empty and even needier than before. He has the biggest grin on his face. Tip leaking violently.
"Still wanna keep going baby?" He rubs your back letting you catch your breath. You nod and he shakes his head.
"No sweetie cmon... gotta use that big brain for me.. use your voice" He hums sweetly and you can still hear your heart racing and feel your pussy aching.
"Please don't stop Clark" You begged and he grins pushing his dick back inside your aching pussy. The sensation making you cry out and shiver. This time he slings his bicep around your neck pulling you up against his chest so you're riding his dick. He immediately tightened his bicep around your neck completely cutting the air off making your eyes roll back. He puts his other arm around your waist using it as leverage to pull you up and down onto his dick. This made your eyes water tears rolling.
"You're so beautiful baby cmon you can take it. You can breathe soon you're almost there I got you" He coos slamming harder up into you and drool was practically leaking from your mouth and onto his bicep. A groan and chuckle slips from him.
"Poor fucking baby drooling .. feels that good huh? His free hand around your waist reaches up to grasp at your breasts like it was the best thing he's ever done.
A weak squeaky whine leaves your throat and you were getting dangerously close. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach, your sight getting blurry and head feeling light. He trails his hand down to rub at your clit in quick circles.
Your walls tightening dangerously around his dick , the feeling of him twitching sends you over the edge almost blacking out completely. You can just about feel him splutter his cum inside you. Making you all swollen with his warm load. His bicep loosen from your neck immediately pulling out and bringing you into his arms pressing kisses all over your head.
"Take deep breaths baby.. that's it .. shhh come back to me. I'm sorry if I hurt you... you did so good" He cradled you. Not even caring that both of your cum was dripping all over the bed.
When you finally relaxed and look up at him his eyes twinkle.
"There is is! Hi beautiful.. you did so good okay?" He coos kissing all over your face and grabbing something to clean you up with being extra careful with how sensitive you are.
"I know baby.. I know.. so sorry" He's grabbing some baggy clothes to pull on you.
When he's done you crawl to lay on his chest and he smiles rubbing your back.
"You know.. I really love your biceps?" You yawn burying your head in his chest.
"Baby.. after what you just did. I think I know , sometimes I think you love my biceps more than me!" He fake pouts brushing your hair with his hand and you playfully tease him with a nod making him gasp.
"Okay no more biceps for you" but you knew he was joking. Because that man would do anything for you. And to you.
HELLO AGAIN! Thank you as always for reading I appreciate it so much!!!
warnings: established relationship, kissing (frequent), physical affection, light banter, not proofread!!
wc: 1.8k
The porch swing creaks softly beneath the two of you, the evening settling over the Kent farm in shades of gold and lavender. Crickets have started their chorus, and somewhere out in the pasture, the cows are making lazy noises as they settle in for the night.
Clark sits beside you with his sleeves rolled to his forearms, a glass of lemonade forgotten on the railing.
"You know," you murmur, nudging his knee with yours, "your mom definitely noticed you staring at me through dinner."
A faint pink warms his cheeks.
"I wasn't staring."
You raise an eyebrow.
"I was..." He smiles sheepishly. "Looking."
"There's a difference?"
"Golly, I hope so."
Before you can tease him again, he leans over and presses the gentlest kiss to your lips.
He pulls back barely an inch.
"...Hi."
You laugh. "Hi."
Then he kisses you again.
When he finally lets you breathe, you're smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
"Clark."
"Hm?"
"You just kissed me."
"I know."
"So why'd you do it again?"
He considers the question with complete sincerity.
"...I wanted to."
You burst into laughter, hiding your face against his shoulder.
"You're cute."
"I've been told."
He says it so earnestly that it only makes you laugh harder.
His arm slips around your waist, pulling you comfortably against him. The smell of fresh hay, clean laundry, and sunshine clings to his flannel.
You could stay here forever.
The breeze stirs your hair across your face.
Without thinking, Clark brushes the strands behind your ear.
His fingertips linger.
His expression softens into something unbearably fond.
"There it is again," you whisper.
"What?"
"That look."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're about to kiss me."
"...Maybe."
"You just did." A soft whisper.
"I remember."
"So don't."
"I'll try."
He lasts all of four seconds.
His forehead bumps yours first, almost as if he's negotiating with himself.
Then his nose brushes yours.
Then—
Another kiss.
You sigh dramatically against his lips.
"Oh my—Clark"
"What?"
"You have a problem."
He smiles into the kiss before pulling back.
"I might."
"You've kissed me, like..."
Clark groans playfully. "I wasn't counting."
"I was."
"And?"
"...Six."
"Hm."
He steals another quick peck.
"Seven."
"You did that on purpose!" You lightly swat his chest.
He grins—the wide, boyish grin that makes him look years younger—and catches your hand before you can pull it away.
His thumb traces slow circles over your knuckles.
"I miss you," he says quietly.
You blink.
"I've been here since yesterday."
"I know."
"You've barely left my side."
"I know."
"So how can you miss me?"
His smile turns shy.
"I don't know."
The honesty of it squeezes at your heart.
"I just... every time I look at you..." He exhales through a small laugh. "I feel like kissing you."
"You have been kissing me. And apparently that's still not enough."
"It isn't."
There's no swagger in the confession.
You shake your head with an affectionate smile.
"You really are the sweetest man alive."
His ears turn pink again.
"You think so?"
"I know so."
This time, you're the one who closes the distance.
Your kiss is slow enough that the world seems to stop around you.
When it ends, Clark rests his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.
"I love weekends here," he murmurs.
"The farm?"
"The quiet."
He brushes another kiss against your temple.
"You."
Another at the corner of your mouth.
"The way nobody expects anything."
One on your cheek.
"The way you smile when my mom makes pie."
Aother.
"The way you fall asleep during movies."
Another.
"The way you steal my hoodies."
You laugh helplessly.
"I don't steal them."
"You permanently borrow them."
"I return them eventually."
"...Months later."
You shrug.
"They smell like you."
Clark's expression melts.
"...You can't say things like that."
"Why?"
His smile grows helpless.
"Because then I..."
"You what?"
"...Want to kiss you."
"You were already doing that."
"I know."
"And you're smiling like you're about to do it again."
"I am?"
You groan dramatically, though you're already smiling. "There is no hope for you."
"I don't think there is."
He cups your face with both hands, as though you're something impossibly precious.
"I've spent so much of my life trying to hold back," he says softly. "Trying to be careful. Trying not to... overwhelm people."
His thumbs brush your cheeks.
"But with you..."
You search his eyes.
"...I don't feel like I have to pretend I don't love you as much as I do."
Your chest aches in the best way.
"You don't have to."
"No?"
"No."
"So..."
He smiles, hopeful.
"I can kiss you again?"
You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"You absolutely can."
His answering grin is brighter than the porch light behind him.
"Good."
He kisses you once...
Then twice...
Then a third time because you keep laughing between them, and he quietly decides that's his favorite sound in the world.
You slip out of Clark's embrace, cheeks sore from smiling.
"You know what?" you announce.
"What?"
"You've exceeded your kiss quota."
Clark blinks.
"...I had a quota?"
"You do now."
"And what is it?"
"Zero."
His eyebrows lift in exaggerated surprise.
"...Zero?"
"That's right."
He stands from the porch swing, towering over you with a look of amused disbelief.
"I don't remember agreeing to these terms."
"You don't have to."
"I don't?"
"Nope."
You take one careful step backward.
He takes one forward.
"You look like you're planning something," he observes.
"So do you."
"I'm just standing here."
"Suspiciously."
A grin spreads across his face—the kind that always gives him away.
"So," you say slowly, "you're not going to try and kiss me?"
"I can behave."
"Mhm." Disbelief in your tone...
"I can."
"You've been saying that all evening."
"I mean it this time."
You narrow your eyes.
"...You're lying."
"I've never lied less in my life."
The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth tells you everything you need to know.
"Oh, absolutely not."
You whirl around and dart toward the farmhouse.
Behind you comes Clark's startled laugh.
"Hey!"
The screen door bangs cheerfully as you hurry inside.
"Martha!" you call with a laugh. "Your son is—"
"—being unfairly accused?" Clark finishes from somewhere behind you.
You glance over your shoulder just long enough to see him stepping through the doorway, trying—and failing—to look innocent.
Jonathan chuckles from the living room, newspaper folded in his lap.
"I don't know," he says. "Looks like she's got a head start."
"You hear that?" you tease, backing toward the hallway. "Your dad's on my side."
Clark shakes his head, smiling.
You point triumphantly at Clark.
"No kissing."
He sighs dramatically.
"I haven't kissed you in at least..." He checks an imaginary watch. "...Thirty seconds."
"Exactly."
"I've shown remarkable restraint."
"You've shown the opposite of restraint."
With a laugh, you turn and make a break for the hallway.
"Hey!"
Your footsteps echo across the hardwood floor as you race toward the staircase, laughter spilling out before you can stop it.
You make it exactly three steps up before strong arms wrap gently—but securely—around your waist.
A delighted squeak escapes you.
"Clark!"
"I caught you."
"I noticed!"
"You run slower than you think."
"I was being polite!"
"So was I."
Before you can protest again, the floor disappears beneath you.
With effortless ease, Clark lifts you up and settles you over his shoulder.
"Clark Kent!"
"I know."
"You cannot just—"
"I just did."
You dissolve into helpless laughter, lightly thumping the middle of his back with your fist.
"Put me down."
"Hm."
"Please, Clark." You laugh breathlessly.
"I know, baby, I know."
He starts up the stairs at an easy pace, one arm securely around the backs of your legs while the other steadies you.
"You don't play fair."
"Don't play with a super-human."
"I can't believe you're doing this."
"I can."
"You've become far too confident."
"I wonder whose fault that is."
"Definitely not mine."
"No?"
"No." You deny playfully. All while knowing the truth. Clark was right.
He reaches the top landing, still carrying you as though you weigh nothing at all.
"You know," you say, trying to sound stern despite laughing, "your parents are downstairs."
"I know."
"They can hear us."
"They're probably pretending they can't."
You hide your face against the back of his shoulder, groaning with embarrassed laughter.
"I'm never surviving this."
"I think you will."
He nudges open the bedroom door with his foot.
The familiar room is quiet, moonlight spilling through the windows onto the neatly made bed.
Only then does he carefully lower you back onto your feet.
His hands linger at your waist just long enough to make sure you're steady.
"There," he says, looking entirely pleased with himself.
"I escaped for almost..." You pretend to calculate. "...Twenty seconds."
"A personal best."
You poke him lightly in the chest.
"You carried me all the way up here just because I ran away."
"You ran away because you knew I'd follow."
"...Maybe."
His smile softens into something wonderfully fond.
"I like chasing you."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
"Why?"
"Because," he says, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "I know exactly what happens when I catch you."
"Oh?"
His forehead comes to rest against yours.
"I get to be close to you again."
The playful grin you were wearing fades into something softer.
"You really are hopeless."
"I've accepted that."
You loop your arms around his neck.
"I'm not complaining."
"I was hoping you weren't."
You smile up at him.
"So... does this mean the chase is over?"
Clark's eyes sparkle.
"For now."
He leans in and leaves one feather-light kiss on your forehead, another on the tip of your nose, and finally one on your lips—slow, sweet, and unhurried.
When he pulls back, you're both smiling.
"I guess," you murmur, "I can make an exception to the no-kissing rule."
Summary :: After your husband gets into yet another saloon brawl being overprotective of you, you’re determined to give him the silent treatment to teach him a lesson. But he knows exactly how his charm and protectiveness affect you.
Pairing :: Cowboy!clark x reader
Cw :: nsfw :: p w/ plot :: overprotective/possessive clark :: smut & aftercare :: make up sex :: mentions of a bar fight :: pet names (honeysuckle, baby, darlin) :: unprotected sex :: praise kink :: v light angst :: rough handling :: est. relationship :: wall/holding :: exhibitionism (barn setting) :: no beta we die like men.
1.5k wc :: [reupload] :: masterlist
“Y'know I can't help but be your bodyguard…” Clark’s voice is a low, honeyed drawl as he slips into the dimly lit barn, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind him. He’s got that lazy tilt to his cowboy hat, looking entirely too smug for someone who just spent the last hour picking a fight with half the town at the saloon just because a man looked your way. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you — knows that his protective streak drives you crazy, even when you’re trying your hardest to freeze him out.
You keep your back turned, stubbornly wiping down the leather of an old saddle like it’s the most important job in the world. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, completely betraying the cold front you’re trying to put up. “Ain’t even gonna look at me, darlin’?” you hear the slow, deliberate thud of his boots getting closer.
You keep your eyes glued to the leather, but you can feel the heat radiating off him. He steps right into your space, his large frame completely blocking out the rest of the barn until he’s looming directly over your shoulder. 'Don't give in' — you think to yourself, biting the inside of your cheek. If you let him off easy, he’ll never learn to keep his temper on a leash.
“I was just lookin’ out for my girl — my wife,” he murmurs, his hot breath fanning against the shell of your ear. When you still don’t answer, he lets out a soft, amused scoff. He reaches around you, his gentle hands dropping onto yours to gently take the leather rag from your grip. You send a sharp glare backward — a look that says ‘you’re in trouble.’
He just grins, a roguish, dimpled thing that makes your knees instantly feel like jelly. “Yeah, I know.”
Clark hooks his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up until you have no choice but to look into those striking eyes of his. Before you can pull away, his other hand settles heavy and possessive on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He cradles you close, his thumbs tracing slow circles into your skin through the fabric of your shirt, rocking you ever so slightly to the rhythm of his own heartbeat. “Somebody’s gotta protect you, baby. Even if someone's knuckles are a little bloody for it. You really mad at me for that, huh?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He leans down, his lips brushing softly along your jawline, tracing down to the sensitive dip of your neck. A shaky sigh slips past your lips, your hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt just to keep yourself upright.
“Show me how to make it up to you,” he whispers against your skin, his deep voice vibrating right through you. “You want me to beg, huh? Tell you I’m sorry, baby — get on my knees for you?” Clark slides his hands down, his palms skimming the curve of your hips, his touch growing heavier, more deliberate. His eyes are dark with a sudden, intense heat as he locks his gaze back onto yours.
He sinks lower, his hands sliding down the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly until you’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist. He backs you straight up against the sturdy wooden pillar of the barn, pressing his weight into you in a way that makes your thoughts completely scatter. The hard ridge of his length strains against his jeans, grinding slow and deliberate right between your thighs, right where you’re already aching and slick for him.
Clark buries his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of you like a dying man, his lips parting to press a warm, wet kiss right over your pulse point. His teeth graze the spot, just enough to pull a soft whimper from your throat. One big hand slips under your shirt, rough palm sliding up your bare skin until he’s cupping your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it tightens into a needy peak.
“Say it’s all fixed, honeysuckle,” he groans against your skin, rolling his hips forward in a filthy grind that has you clenching around nothing. “Tell me I’m doing a good job keeping you safe… say you’re mine.”
His fingers make quick work of your buttons, shoving your shirt open so he can drag his mouth lower. Hot, open-mouthed kisses trail down your chest until his lips close around your nipple, sucking hard while his tongue flicks in lazy strokes. You arch into him with a broken moan, fingers threading tight into his hair under that damn hat. “Clark…” his name comes out wrecked, half plea, half surrender.
He sets you down just long enough to yank your jeans open and shove them down your hips along with your panties, then he’s lifting you again, pinning you to the pillar with one strong arm while his free hand works his belt open. The thick head of his tip nudges against your slick folds, teasing, rubbing up and down until you’re trembling.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he breathes, voice rough as gravel. “Let me in.”
He pushes inside you in one slow, relentless thrust, stretching you open around him until he’s buried to the hilt. The burn is perfect, overwhelming. Clark groans deep in his chest, forehead pressed to yours, pupils dilated, hips rocking shallow and steady while you adjust to the full, heavy feel of him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasps, starting to move harder, deeper, each thrust driving you up against the rough wood. The wet sound of skin meeting skin fills the quiet barn, mixing with your gasps and his low, filthy praises. One hand grips your ass, holdng you open for him while the other braces against the pillar, muscles flexing with every powerful stroke.
He fucks you like he fights — intense, possessive, completely focused on claiming what’s his. Every roll of his hips drags against that sweet spot inside you until your thighs shake around his waist and your nails dig into his shoulders.
“That’s my girl,” he growls against your mouth, kissing you deep and messy. “Come on, lil' honeysuckle. Give it to me. Let me feel you fall apart.”
The pleasure coils tight and snaps hard. You cry out, clenching around him as the orgasm crashes through you, waves of heat flooding every nerve. Clark curses softly, thrusts turning erratic and desperate until he buries himself deep one last time, pulsing hot inside you as he comes with a low, broken groan of your name.
For a moment, the only sounds are your ragged breathing and the creak of the barn settling around you. Clark stays buried deep, holding you close, pressing soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder like he can’t bear to let you go just yet. And just like that, the anger is completely gone, leaving you entirely at his mercy.
“I got you, darlin’… I got you,” he breathes against your temple, his voice droppin into a low, gravelly hum as the adrenaline begins to fade from both of you. He slips out of you with a soft, wet sound that makes you shudder, but before your feet can even touch the cold dirt floor, he’s lifting you right back into his arms, keeping your thighs hooked around his waist.
He carries you over to the workbench in the back corner, setting you down gently on the edge where his old flannel shirt is draped. Your legs are still trembling, your breath hitching as the cool air hits your bare skin, but Clark is already moving. He grabs a clean cloth from the shelf, tipping the water canteen over it until it’s damp.
“Look at me, honeysuckle,” he murmurs, kneeling right down between your thighs. When you look down at him, his hat is pushed back, his eyes soft and completely devoid of the heat from earlier. He’s incredibly gentle as he uses the cloth to wipe away the slick mess between your legs, his calloused thumbs trailing over the inside of your thighs to soothe the ache. “Still mad at your husband? Huh? Tell me the truth.”
You shake your head, reaching down to trace the slight bruise forming over his knuckles from the saloon fight. A soft, breathless laugh escapes you. “You’re such an idiot, Clark.”
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he grins, leaning up to press a soft, lingering kiss right to the center of your chest, right over your heart. He helps you pull your panties and jeans back up, tugging your clothes into place with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. Once you’re put back together, he pulls you down off the bench and wraps his massive arms around you from behind, buried into the crook of your neck as you both just sway in the quiet barn. “Next time, I’ll try to be good. Promise. But ain’t nobody allowed to look at you like that. Not while I’m drawin’ breath.”
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Clark & you shack up in a rundown motel for a stakeout. Like the gentleman he is, he takes the floor to make sure you get a good night's rest. Unfortunately for both of you, the next-door neighbours had different plans.
𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆/𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘: Explicit/F!Reader
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: smut, pwp, explicit, voyeurism themes, comedy, banter, p-in-v, creampies, clark covers your mouth to shut you up, making out
𝐖/𝐂: 1.8k+
It went on for days.
Rythmic. Insistent thuds coming from the wall adjacent to the bed. Your eye mask sat half pushed up your eyes, as if waiting for a —
Thud!
Right on cue, the muffled moan seeps through the paper-thin walls. Your palms curl to a tight fist around the pillow covering your ears, far surpassing your very last straw.
"Clark."
His shoulders twitch, but he doesn't say anything. You jerk upright. Swinging your pillow toward his sleeping form on the carpeted floor, next to the bed.
"Clark!"
He stiffens like a board, bouncing up and blinking at you, all alert, his hair sleep-mussed. Glasses sat crooked on his nose, likely from putting them on in haste. Clark's gaze turns intense for a second, scanning the room for any immediate danger.
"W-huh?! What's wrong?" He manages, voice raspy with sleep. The thumping across the wall doesn't miss his ears. Clark frowns, looking toward it.
"Did you hear something? Is someone in…" He doesn't wait for you to finish, but the sleep-stricken bliss on his face dissipates to a scarlet hue, reddest at the tip of his ears. "…danger."
"Are you kidding? The only thing in danger is my ability to get a decent hour of sleep!" Your face slumps into your palms with a dramatic whine.
It was impossible to ignore it now that it'd been recognised. High-pitched squeals and thumps, paired with the sound of their headboard hitting against the drywall so hard you felt your own frame rattle.
"Unbelievable. Is the wall there as a suggestion?"
Clark can only stare at the flimsy drywall, taking a heavy gulp in an attempt not to just…look. "They're…passionate?" He points out, questioning, only to be met with a withered glare.
"No woman would ever make those noises for a man unless they're being paid to." You refute.
"I…see." Clark clears his throat, holding a loose finger up to point at the offending noise. "Do you think it's a…"
"Hooker? Yes. Great one by the sounds of it."
"Right. I didn't realise there was a baseline." His statement hangs in the air, heavy with his genuine and innocent observation.
"In what sense?" You pry, the noises from across turning far less interesting now.
"Uh. I don't know. The louder a lady is when…you know. The better the intercourse is?" Clark looks up to the ceiling thoughtfully. Shaking his needless curiosity away.
"You're thinking about something."
The broad-shouldered man jolts, turning to face you in the wake of your blunt statement. "I…I'm not sure what you mean."
"You've got that look on your face," you say simply. Then, playfully whip your sleep mask at him — it lands against his chest with a thud, a mocking noise as his heart rate picks up. "Spill."
"I — gee," Clark relents with a sigh, slowly standing up, albeit unsteadily, before plopping onto the bed next to you. The motion sends the mattress dipping low under his heavy weight, forcing you to slide closer to him.
"It's not so much a thought…but an observation."
When he turns to you, your gaze is already on him. All wide and curious. His head snaps away from your innocent stare, "when you and I…are intimate."
He continues after a beat, "you're sort of…loud," then, his hand comes up to loosely point to himself, "so... that means you feel good. With me."
The words land as a brief shock to you. Not at the implication, but that Clark had actually formed that specific thought just from an off-handed comment.
Your answer came in the form of a gentle swat to his hand, paired with a shy, honest look, "…don't do that. Makes you look dorky."
Clark's lips break out into an easy smile, his head bowed to chase your eyeline. "Aren't you going to ask me what I'm thinking about now?"
"Not interested." Your rejection comes swiftly, punctuated with a dramatic slump onto the comforter. Though the quirk at the corner of your lips gives your actual thoughts away.
"Oh, come on," Clark's voice drops to that familiar, negotiating lilt. The bed dips further, with his elbows secured over the pillow you hid your face in. His warmth behind you inched closer. "Ask me."
You look over your shoulder suspiciously, "hurry up before I change my mind."
His lips curl into a wide, dimpled smile.
.
.
.
'Let's see how honest you can be without making a single sound.'
It was a stupid, impulsive challenge thrown out there. One that was potentially dangerous to their cover. Possibly — no, completely unnecessary for two people who were only in a motel room to stake out an elusive contact.
The logic was hard to fight. It was a bet to be quiet. So the pact was formed in the wake of the soft rustle of sheets, the gentle hold of Clark's palm at the base of your lower back. You bit down on your lip hard at a tug that forced you flush against Clark's chest, with your thighs draped over his thicker ones. Instinctively, you arch into him.
His gaze tracked your movements, intently raking over your twitching thighs. Clark's head lowers, his lips searching for a spot — a spot he knew would incite a shiver from you. The kiss beneath your ears did just that, squirming helplessly to the mercy of his teasing touches.
A whimpered sound choked on the way out of your lips as his hands slid beneath the fabric of your bottoms, a whisper of the fibres gracing the heavy, hot air in the room. His warm, bigger palms still at the outside of your thighs, urging your hips upward.
"You're doing a really good job," he comments, reverence felt in the manner his nose still chased the curve of your jaw.
The springs of the motel bed squeaked at the shift, adding your sweats to the pile that was Clark's makeshift bed on the carpeted floors. He doesn't make it easy for you in the slightest. His mouth finds purchase on the column or your throat, and toward your pulse.
"Mm'tryin' to keep — ugh — quiet!" Your voice is barely above a rasp, trying to nudge his face away in a weak attempt, "don't…"
Your soft whine was the very first crack in your resolve, in your promise to keep quiet. It only seemed to spur Clark on even more, his mouth clumsily finding yours, catching the corner of your lips before they slot just right.
The quiet room filled itself with the urgent, wet smacks of your combined desperation, whimpers that spilt into each other's throats. Clark's free hand slid up your ribs, his thumbs skirting beneath the curve of your breasts. Deliberately, his thumbnail rake over where your nipples slowly hardened.
"Ah!"
The sound spills from your lips before you can stop it, and you turn to bury your face in the pillow. "Nnh. Not bein'…fair." You mutter, petulantly, with your face squirmed into softness.
He laughs suddenly, warm against your pulse.
"Who said anything about being fair?" Clark's nips at your earlobes, placing open-mouthed kisses unabashedly despite your squirming.
You writhe beneath him, frustrated. With a determined tug, you pull him down more. In a soft tone, barely there, you whisper his name into the shell of his ears. It'd run louder than any whine or moan you'd given in an ode to your pleasure.
The reaction was instantaneous. His rigid body, which was once intent on teasing grinds, melted into you. The hard lines of his erection stiffened in a demanding manner, urging you to spill all your little whimpers into his ears.
"Just…like that." He pleads, eyes fluttering shut when your tongue drags past the shell, probing into the soft curve.
"Clark…Clark. Clark."
Each whispered whine of his name threatened to unravel him entirely. Clark's deftly shucking his trousers off just enough to free his aching cock, resting the hefty weight of it on your bare cunt, soaking with arousal that he pulled from you painstakingly.
"You…You have to be actually quiet. Okay?"
You nod sharply, steadying your hold onto his biceps.
Clark's careful.
At first.
Easing his thick, hard cock into your eager walls was the easy part. Especially with how easily you opened up for him, sucking him in — begging for more.
But then he snaps his hips into you. His length disappears deep into your belly, making you feel so fucking full and overwhelmed at the same time that you squeal.
Clark's palm spans over the lower half of your mouth. Muffling the ends of your whine. "Oh, sweetheart —" he coos, his voice cracked in remorse. You blink up at him, hazily and uncoordinated, looking at him like he'd given you blue balls.
"You can't — …" Clark shakes his head slowly. His hold is unrelenting over your soft lips. "Breathe through your nose. Okay? Trust me."
Your stifled whimpers are efficiently muted by the warm press of his palm, subjecting you to the controlled thrust of his hips. Each one met with the creaky protests of the mattress. Clark's breath comes out gradually ragged against your neck, the sweat from his skin mingling with your own.
It seemed to be doing something to him on a chemical level. Feeling the warm vibration of your needy grunts into his nerve endings, paired with the rhythmic pulse of your cunt that was the only other indicator of how turned on you were.
Clark's eyes are scewed shut, as though every one of his senses were attuned to the noises. To the sounds of your arousal, to the ones of the sticky, hot connection below. Your cunt clenched around his length, harder with each stroke of his thick thip in your twitching walls.
His head pulls back in time to meet your fucked out gaze as he's met with the telltale signs of your oncoming release, "shit. I'm — please." He manages, pulling his palm away from your reddened lips, where a slight string of your drool clings to him.
He brings his dampened palm down to your clit, rubbing you in idle circles.
"Ngh! Clark!" You squeak, digging your nails into the taut muscles of his arms. That gave you the tip you needed before your body arches off the bed, into him, in a quivering intensity, coming hard around his cock.
Clark follows suit, his own body seizing, shuddering gutturally as he takes on the wave of pulses from your walls, filling your belly with his hot, potent cum.
You lift your head up, only barely, lips chasing the warmth of his pulse, blissed out in an undeniable wash of addicting pleasure that the man above you pulled from you successfully.
It's short-lived, though. Especially when an insistent, loud bang resounds from the walls above both of you.
Keep it the fuck down, you sick fucks!
🚬🦂supes’ cowgirl💙❤️ @glitterbonez351 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
