cockwarming wally west while you are playing video games. ˚.✦
"Help me with this decision, Walls, c'mon." You say, moving just slightly to make him lift his head from your shoulder.
"Ah?" He murmurs with the little voice he has left.
You been sitting on his cock for over twenty minutes now. You were just making out, peeling clothes and all when he made a comment that pissed you off, so this is his well-deserved punishment! Also, you've been all week waiting for the new episodes of Dispatch to drop and you needed to play them. This was the perfect moment for it.
"Do I keep Sonar or Coupé?" you tell him again, pausing the game so the time to make the decision doesn't run out.
He blinks, face flushed and desperate. "Who are those people? Baby, please, just—"
"Nope," You flick at his forehead. "'M not moving, Wally."
"Babyyyyy." He dives back in your neck, you are swallowing too good. He can feel your walls fluttering every once in a while and you are so fucking warm, it almost like he can feel his cock melting inside of you.
He also doesn't understand how you aren't dying too. From the outside, you seem totally fine, focused on your game like your boyfriend's cock isn't almost kissing your cervix.
You hum thoughtfully, thumb hovering over the controller as you stare at the character select screen. The soft music of the game fills the room, completely at odds with the way Wally is trembling underneath you with his hands gripping your hips like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded.
“Sonar’s got better mobility,” you muse out loud, deliberately shifting your weight just enough to sink down another fraction of an inch. The movement drags a strangled whine from his throat, his cock twitching hard inside you. “But Coupé’s ultimates hit like a truck. Decisions, decisions…”
Wally's fingers dig in harder, hips jerking up involuntarily before he catches himself and forces them back down.
“Baby—fuck—please,” he rasps, voice absolutely wrecked. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so fucking sorry for whatever dumb shit I said earlier, just move. Please move. I’ll do anything.”
You tilt your head, pretending to consider it, then unpause the game and pick Sonar anyway. “Nah. I think I’ll stick with her. She’s cuter.”
He lets out the most pathetic, broken sound you’ve ever heard from him and drops his forehead back against your shoulder. His whole body is wound tight, thighs shaking under yours, cock throbbing so hard you can feel every desperate pulse.
“Twenty-three minutes,” he mumbles miserably into your skin, like he’s been counting every second. “You’ve been sitting on me for twenty-three minutes and I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”
You smirk, rolling your hips in a slow circle before going perfectly still again. The way he gasps and bucks up into you is delicious.
“Language, Walls,” you tease lightly, eyes still on the screen as you start the next mission. “And you’re not gonna die. You’re just gonna sit there and be good for me while I finish this episode. Then maybe I’ll let you come. Maybe.”
He whimpers and you feel his cock jump again at the promise. His arms wrap fully around your waist now, holding you close like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.
“Please,” he begs again, softer this time, lips brushing your collarbone. “I’ll be so good. I’ll be perfect. Just—fuck—just a little. Anything. I need you to move, baby, I’m begging you.”
You let him stew in silence for another full minute, listening to his ragged breathing and the way he’s trying so hard not to thrust up into you. Then, finally, you pause the game again and set the controller aside.
You turn your head just enough to catch his eye, reaching back to thread your fingers through his damp hair.
“Tell me again what you said earlier,” you murmur, voice low and sweet. “The thing that got you into this mess.”
He groans, but there’s no fight left in it, just surrender.
“I said…” His face burns hotter. “I said I could last longer than you if we ever did edging stuff. That you’d crack first.”
“Mhm.” You clench deliberately around him, slow and tight, and he chokes on a cry. “And how’s that going for you, baby?”
“Not—shit—not great,” he admits in a rush, hips stuttering. “You win. You always win. Please, I’m sorry, I take it back, just please fuck me.”
You smile, slow and triumphant, and finally lift yourself up just to sink back down in one smooth, deliberate motion.
The noise he makes is pure relief and devastation all at once.
“Good boy,” you whisper, starting a slow, torturous rhythm that’s still nowhere near what he’s begging for. “Now let’s see how long you can last when I actually start moving.”
cock warming but they press a vibrator to your clit, making you cum over and over and over again until they end up cumming from the sensation of your muscles pulsing and spasming around them alone.
becoming jason’s roommate ends with you being wayyyy more than just roommates.
# headcanons.ᐟ⸝⸝ fwb roommate!jason todd ⸝⸝ smutty ⸝⸝ oral ⸝⸝ p in v ⸝⸝ nsfw mdni ⸝⸝
fwb roommate!jason todd who’s never really looked twice at you when you first moved in due to trouble with your rent. he’s red hood—always out there doing god knows what, coming home late, too buried in his own shit to notice the roommate who pays rent on time and keeps the fridge stocked.
fwb roommate!jason todd who comes home one night bleeding from a nasty gash across his ribs, helmet off, leather jacket somewhat torn, insisting he’s fine even as he leaves bloody footprints on the same floor you just cleaned. you force him onto the couch anyway, hands shaking as you press gauze to his side, and for the first time he’s wondering if you were always this pretty.
fwb roommate!jason todd who bites his cheek and tells you not to fuss, because getting you involved in his shit is the last thing he wants. but you don’t listen. you clean him up and his eyes linger on the way you bite your lip when you’re focused, your fingers gentle over old scars and fresh bruises.
fwb roommate!jason todd who starts leaving you portions of whatever he cooks at 3am after patrol—chili, pasta, breakfast for dinner, he always gets creative as cooking is pretty much a downtime for him—with sticky notes in his messy handwriting that say “eat, don’t wait up.” he tells himself it’s just practical, but he catches himself looking for the leftovers the next day to see if you’d actually eaten them.
fwb roommate!jason todd who steals your knitted blankets because they smell like you and the fabric is soft against his skin. he walks around shirtless with the blanket hanging over his shoulders, the waistband of his sweats hanging low enough to show the deep v of his hips and the heavy outline of his thick cock when he stretches, pretending he doesn’t notice the way your eyes linger. he does. he definitely notices.
fwb roommate!jason todd who teaches you self-defense in the living room after you ask for his help one night, his hands firm on your waist, his body pressed close everytime he corrects your stance. there’s tension and it’s visibly building until suddenly you end up pinned on your back over the arm of the couch, his hips pressing in between your legs, both of you breathing hard for reasons that have quite literally nothing to do with training.
fwb roommate!jason todd who finally breaks after a brutal patrol a few nights later. the built-up tension comes to a boiling point when he backs you against the kitchen counter still half in his gear, kissing you like he’s starving. like he’s wanted this since that night you took care of him. he lifts you onto the counter, pulls your shorts down, strokes himself, and pushes into you with a deep, desperate groan, giving you a moment to adjust before thrusting harder. “fuck—been thinking about this for weeks,” he growls against your neck, fucking you with raw need until your legs shake, until you’re moaning into his neck, and until his cum is dripping down your thighs when he finally pulls out.
fwb roommate!jason todd who pretends it didn’t happen the next morning but makes your coffee exactly how you like it and avoids eye contact until you grab his chin and kiss him. that’s when the dam breaks for a second time—he bends you over the counter again, this time slow and deep. “so fucking good for me, princess. take every inch like you were made for it.” his cock grinds against your g-spot while he whispers filthy praise.
fwb roommate!jason todd who turns into the most annoying, possessive roommate/friend with benefits after that. he gets territorial when your dates text you, waiting on the couch for you to get home and he wastes no time the second you walk in. he yanks your dress up, sinks you down on his cock right there, and makes you ride him until you’re crying his name and apologizing for even looking at anyone else, filling you up until his cum leaks out of you as he holds you close and praises you afterward.
fwb roommate!jason todd who wakes you up on lazy mornings with his head between your legs, tongue buried in your pussy, sucking your clit and fingering you open until you’re grinding against his face and cumming hard on his mouth. then he slides into you while you’re still fluttering, fucking you slow and lazy, hips rolling deep while he murmurs how perfect you feel wrapped around him, warm and wet and … his.
fwb roommate!jason todd who eats you out until you’re a trembling, blissed-out mess and then slips out of bed to make you breakfast in bed—bringing coffee exactly how you like it along with pancakes or eggs and toast on a tray, wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants and a rare, soft smirk as he watches you eat. pleased that he can take care of you like this even if there’s no label on it.
fwb roommate!jason todd who still crashes on the couch some nights because the quiet in his room gets too loud and his nightmares creep in, but now you crawl in with him without an invite, curled against his chest as his big hand strokes your back until he falls asleep. without you ever asking, he started to secretly restocks your drawer with period stuff, lotion, lube, and the toys he’s bought for you, never mentioning it, because taking care of you has become his favorite part of coming home.
fwb roommate!jason todd who reads his smutty romance novels on the couch and leaves them open to the dirtiest pages with notes like “we’re trying this tonight” scribbled in the margins. he tries his best not to distract you when he sees you working even though it’s all he wants to do, then rewards you later for finishing everything by pinning you to the bed and fucking you until the only thing you can utter is his name.
fwb roommate!jason todd who still insists he’s fine when he comes home injured, but now he lets you patch him up on the couch without as much complaint as before. after he pulls you down beside him, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck while his fingers work patterns on your arms or your back.
fwb roommate!jason todd who starts leaving little notes around the apartment that aren’t just about food anymore—“lock the window after I leave,” “you looked pretty today,” “don’t wait up, but I’ll be back”—because he’s shit at saying how he feels or how he cares out loud but needs you to know you’re on his mind even when he’s out.
fwb roommate!jason todd who catches himself smiling like an idiot when he hears your laugh from the other room or smells you on his pillows, realizing this apartment stopped feeling like a temporary hideout and started feeling like home the moment you forced your way into his walls. honestly, he’s scared of it—of how much he needs you safe and happy—but he’s even more scared of losing it.
fwb roommate!jason todd who, late one night after patching him up again, holds you tighter than usual on the bed and admits that you’re the only person who makes the pit in his chest feel quieter, the only one who sees the man under the hood and doesn’t flinch in fear of getting hurt. he doesn’t say “I love you” yet, but he doesn’t really need to since the way he kisses your forehead and falls asleep almost immediately with his face buried in your neck says it for him.
fwb roommate!jason todd who knows he’s a mess but keeps choosing to come home to you anyway, because somewhere between the patching him up, the sex, the shared coffee mugs, the late-night talks, and the way you take every part of him—this gruff, broken vigilante realized the best thing in his shitty fucked up life was the roommate he never meant to fall so damn hard for.
Giving sheltered farmboy!Clark his first pussy portal would make him nearly faint.
He’d nearly dropped it when you gave it to him for your one year anniversary, shocked you’d just hand it over dinner like it was a card instead of… well… that. Clark wouldn’t get the appeal. The entirety of you was much better than just your pussy. Clark liked seeing your face twisted in pleasure, watching your breasts bounce with each thrust. But one day, when you’ve gone home to family across the country for the week, he break. He couldn’t get enough time off work to go with, so he mopes around the bullpen and pouts into your pillow at night. By the fourth night he’s desperate. Clark roots through your nightstand for the little disc. It’s smooth plastic, with a twist off lid too similar to a pill bottle’s. You even had it customized with the exact blue of his Superman suit.
Clark guiltily opens the top. He half expects and hopes there’ll be nothing inside; you have to wear the panties to activate it. You probably wouldn’t risk it around your family. But instead of a blank nothingness, your pussy is inside. It’s just as he remembers, all plump folds and your pretty skin and clit. He can even smell you. Clark feels dizzy at how quickly his blood rushes down.
“Gosh…” Clark whispers. He rubs a hand down his face. He shouldn’t. This is the epitome of objectifying women, his woman, his pretty girl. He couldn’t. Clark was a gentleman. He had to respect you.
But, you’d gifted this to him. You wanted him to fuck you, to use you. You were even wearing the panties. In fact, if he didn’t use it, you’d be sad and unsatisfied. With a little groan, Clark brings it up to his mouth.
A thousand miles away, you’re out shopping at your hometown mall. You’d needed time alone from your family, and had to buy more panties. For once you’d forgotten to pack more panties and now you were wearing the pussy portal panties while you scurried around.
Suddenly, you felt a soft wetness. You have to stifle back a moan as it licks, from your now-twitching hole up to your sensitive clit.
“He’s using it-“ You think dazedly, stumbling to the nearest bathroom. Clark loses his shyness, quickly increasing his speed and firmness. His tongue swirls around your iclit just enough to make your legs weak. You make it inside just in time, just as Clark’s tongue pushes your folds apart and slips inside your hole.
You have to bite your hand as Clark’s tongue assaults your unsuspecting pussy. He’s too good, wet tongue fucking you open and lips smacking against your folds. A cross-continental kiss that has you leaning against the wall. You can even feel his nose nudging close to your clit, and his fingers slipping in. Your orgasm crests, and you sob into your hand at the force of it, at how dirty it feels to come inside a mall bathroom a thousand miles away.
Clark withdraws, and you think he’s done. But just as soon as you shakily stand, you feel him probe it gently with the blunt tip of his cock. A gasp rips from your throat as Clark pushes in. Your hole tighten, but Clark gently rubs at your clit. Slick dribbles out, just enough to guide his entry.
As Clark bottoms out, you twitch, falling on top of the toilet seat. He’s squirting precum, nudging your cervix with each twitch. Then Clark begins to thrust, hard and firm. A strangled moan escapes your throat before you can catch it. Four days without him, without sex, had made you tighten up. He felt even bigger and wider, the satisfying burn clouding your vision. Each thrust rubs perfectly against your walls, his thumb pressing onto your clit in perfect circles. You can feel every vein. It’s almost too much. The idea of Clark using you like a fucktoy, chasing his own pleasure… your cunt slicks up even more, squirting little bits of slick.
Your hand drifts down to your lower stomach, feeling the small curve of his cock through your belly. He was right there, yet you couldn’t hear him. You had to focus on just his cock, slamming into you again and again. Your walls flutter desperately as your orgasm comes rushing over you, gripping him tightly. You can almost hear Clark’s whimper as he comes. His cock jumps once more, and suddenly you’re flooded with his hot cum, each pulse sending more and more. The pressure, the twitching, everything has your sense going haywire.
He stays inside, letting himself grow soft. Your hands fumble for your phone.
“Hi baby.” Clark pants into his phone, the portal pussy still snug around him.
“I’m at the mall, you caveman.” You mumble tiredly.
Clark yanks himself out. “Oh god-“
“Stay on the line. I gotta clean myself up and get home, and then we can keep going.”
Sheltered farmboy Clark hates doggy with a passion. He thinks it’s degrading to women, and he hates it because he can’t see your pretty face. He wants to see your hazy eyes after a good fuck, wants to kiss you when he cums.
But you beg and plead and even cry. He trusted you for everything else, why not this?! You even give him the silent treatment for exactly 18 minutes. That’s enough to break him.
So Clark bends you over on your bed, apologizing profusely. His mama would smack him over the head for treating his girl like this. But he can’t deny how good you look, ass perked up in the air. You wiggle impatiently too.
Clark can see everything as he nudges your lips apart with the tip, how it glistens with each pass. He can watch as he slowly presses in, your puffy pussy struggling to take every thick inch. Your cute hole back there winks back at him too.
Clark settles his hands on your waist, slowly pushing into you. You gasp at the feeling; he’s so thick and long, and this position has him in your lungs. But when you nod weakly and tell him to move, all that blurs along with your vision.
It’s perfect, the angle hitting the right spots just enough to have you keening. You push back against his every thrust, your pussy soaking everything. There’s soft little plaps as his balls smack against your clit, and each one has your breath catching. Clark shifts his angle, just to get a better seat on his knees.
“Right there!” You cry out in a strangled whimper. You can feel his tip pressing on a new spot, right against the back. You go boneless and collapse face first. “There, Clarkie!”
Your desperate whimper has Clark whimpering too,. You can feel his hands tight on your waist, bringing you back. Clark’s staring at that little frothy ring around the base of his cock, and something snaps. He goes harder, knocking each whimper out of you with a groan of his own. Clark’s hand drifts to your clit, rubbing soft circles and sending you flying into your orgasm. Usually this is when Clark would stop .
But Clark’s too entranced with how your pussy nearly refuses to let go as he pulls back. He’ll even brush a thumb over your spread folds, and come at the sight of your pussy fluttering.
Later, when you’re spent with his seed dripping outof you, Clark will fuss over you. He’ll apologize for going too hard and too long.
“Next time, pull my hair,” You mumble .
Clark turns bright red at that, and protests amidst gasps and sputters. But the twitch of his cock against his thigh means you’ll get your way once again.
toy flesh [explicit 18+] — [part 2] follow up to part 1 which is linked in my masterlist. this is lots of cute fluff, next part will get down to more filth. there are tons of nasty opportunities
. . .
She also thinks it somehow has to be a one off thing. A pricey, fancy one off toy that fakes a few cumshots after the first time she cleans and rides it, flooding this pool inside of her and all over her bedsheets. But there it goes again, and again, and again.
Topping her third round off by falling backwards near the headboard, new toy gripped tight into her palm while she slides it in and out to still feel full but finally give her hips a break. It was worth every penny, as ridiculous as the amount really was for a hole in the wall sex toy shop. A lot of the others looked sparkly and lengthy and quite pretty, but something about the girth and the hefty weight of the last (or the only?) one in stock on the shelf made her rush to grab it before anyone else could have.
After paying the man at the counter she keeps scoping out her surroundings for any prying eyes as she’s trying to sneak her giant new purchase, stuffing the box into her purse as best she can. It would be dishonest to say she didn’t rush to rip it out of the plastic, feel out the raw feel of the skin, the veins, the fat. It felt real. Unlike any other rubber playthings she’s bought in the past, this one was almost responsive to her touch somehow. Did it require batteries to act like that? To pulse when it feels her grip, or leak when she teased herself on the tip?
It would jump every time she spat on the head and rubbed the base up and down in a firm grip. Pre cumming right at the tip when she did her favorite forms of foreplay and fooled around with it like she’s playing pretend. It throbbed, it wiggled around, and most of all it fucking came. Like a man.
In warm, sudden bursts, she felt it oozing out while she was just getting started. As heaven sent as it felt in the moment, afterwards it made her furrow her brows and grab the toy again and even look down at her own pussy to ensure she wasn’t feeling things that weren’t really there. But lo and behold, it dripped down her inner thighs, slathering her blanket and oozing right out of the tip of the dildo.
It felt like magic. Like her new rubber cock was attached to a real living person — a needy, sensitive, girthy person hung like a horse that didn’t take a lot of teasing or effort to draw so much arousal out of. But the idea was silly, so much more nonsensical than the fact that it was probably nothing more than just an impressively built and nevertheless expensive toy with some kind of hidden wiring and technology that was capable of pulling off acting like a real living cock. Right?
She doesn’t bother questioning it after five or six rounds in one night over the Saturday of her last jobless weekend before the start of her new position the following Monday. It had done wonders for the stress in her body, the tense and worried state it was nearly permanently in. She’d gotten better at taking it all up to the hilt, stuffing it inside up to her stomach after taking an edible and throwing on whatever TV show could make decent background noise. She grins with her heavy lidded eyes falling closed while another load pumps inside her. The second one of the hour to be exact. That addicting feeling of her toy cock gradually just losing it, losing all control like her pussy did things that triggered this quick, heavy release.
She’ll hang around her home in nothing but her underwear and her robe, eating cookie dough ice cream straight out of the carton, higher than a dopey teenager stuck in her own element. It doesn’t take long for her to take her favorite toy and rut her clit against it until it got warm like some kind of horny genie lamp. And then like clockwork it fills up for her again like it’s getting hard, twitchy, and ready all just for her pleasure. In the very back of her head she thinks this thing is so real it could have the off chance of somehow getting her pregnant since the cum had the consistency and the warmth of a real breathing person.
When Monday inevitably arrives, she gives up making sure every single hair stays in place and just parts it all to one side, buttoning up her favorite coat as armor against the unpredictable weather. As she strolled along the streets to her new work building, petting the dogs passing by on their owners’ leashes and twirling the cord of her headphones, she imagines what kind of office would hire someone like her. Blunt, casual, some neurological differences that make it difficult to focus if the topic didn’t interest her. Virtually no prior experience in the field she’s been hired in. It didn’t feel real getting the call back to learn she’d been selected, but who the hell was she to call them stupid for picking her of all the candidates?
The hustle and bustle was apparent as soon as she entered the building, asking around with wide eyes where her section was, what floor was she supposed to go to. Everyone looked busy but remained patient and kind, directing her to her floor, telling her to find a tall, shaggy haired man by the name of Clark.
It wasn’t hard to seek him out of everybody else, large frame still evident even with his hunched over posture, diligently typing away on his computer. When he looks up she was struck to find that he was almost dangerously beautiful. Handsome, pretty, dorky, everything that had always baited her into making terrible decisions. Just by talking to him she could tell he had anxiety, stiff movements and facial expressions that had her wondering if he was nervous from the pressure of being in charge of a new hire, or if he was more specifically nervous about being around her in particular.
Clark is attentive and sweet, helpful and patient with her learning new things, getting used to the environment and what was to be the new routine. Picking up the mail, distributing the mail, transferring phone calls, helping Lois with office duties and finding supplies with low stock to re-order. Certain areas felt overwhelming but overall the job itself seemed mundane. The only thing sticking out to her was Clark and his antsy eyes and big arms, anxious ticks and shy smiles. How he bent over backwards to help her with just about every question thrown his way or another way, making himself of use to her in any way she may have needed.
On her smoke break she feels the rain start to pour within seconds of going outside, and although she’s walked through rain and shine plenty it was still a bit of a test to see how far Clark would actually go if she’d asked to take her home. And he was so eager, so easy. If she got to know him well enough and if they became comfortable enough, she could give him the nickname of being her own mister Yes Man. Yeah, of course I’ll take care of that for you. Yes, you don’t have to worry about that, I’ve got it. Yup, no worries. Yeah, I’ll get this going for you. He was so full of yes’s she almost wonders what the limit may be.
Throughout the day he reciprocates just about every glance, every minor, innocent brushing of arms and fingers and touches on each other’s shoulders, upper back, arms. He hands her a pen and she grazes his fingers entirely on purpose and doesn’t hide dragging the moment out. The more she does the more flustered he’s become.
When Jimmy meets her and shakes her hand, he pulls her aside to whisper in her ear that Clark is very, very single and she laughs so hard she snorts. And when Clark comes back from his lunch break wearing different trousers than he was before he left, she doesn’t attempt any subtlety at eyeing his new pants up and down and shrugging with a little knowing nod at what might’ve made him have to change. Clark makes up some half baked lie about spilling hot sauce on his other pair, and she nods enough to try convincing him she believes it.
After her training is done and the paperwork is filed and the day is finally, finally over she gets a nod from Clark across the room, tilting his head in the direction of the elevators with briefcase in hand. He nudged his glasses further up his face and sniffled, waving bye to staff and pressing the button to head down, holding the door open with an extended arm.
“Thanks so much again by the way,” she graciously squeezed the thick muscle of his upper arm as the elevator doors close. Clark’s turned bashfully red almost immediately, chin down at the ground pretending to look at his shoes.
“It’s nothing. I really wouldn’t want you um, getting all soaked out in the rain, that wouldn’t be right. I’m glad you felt safe enough to ask me.”
“Of course I did. You’ve been nothing but a big sweetheart. Seriously, if anyone’s intimidated by the height they could have one conversation with you and it’ll change their mind,” she laughs, meeting his wide eyes framed by his thick glasses. The elevators ding to alert they’ve arrived to their destined floor, Clark taking a second too long to process before shoving his arm back out to stop the doors from closing in on them again. His version of a curse word slips under his breath while he nearly drops his briefcase, clearly still tripping and stumbling his way out to the parking garage.
“Well I guess so. I’m not that tall. Maybe a little over average, but— I hope I’m not intimidating. Um, here, let’s go this way,” Clark awkwardly trails off, pointing to his little beat up blue vehicle parked way over in the corner. When he points it out she wonders how he even fits himself in there.
“Uh, usually I prop the drivers seat back for my legs. A little crammed but I’ve had her since I started driving. My Pa gifted me this, and she’s still been up and running good after all these years so I don’t really see a need for finding anything else.”
She nods her head and smiles, impressed. He doesn’t let her hand go even near the handle, ripping it open and holding it while she slides in and sets her bag down on the floor near her feet. “Wow. You know, that shows a ton of loyalty to keep one of these for years like you have. I like that.”
He sheepishly nods his head with curls moving on his forehead before gently closing the door and jogging over to the other side.
She takes in her surroundings, observing the little details. His hanging dog charm around the rearview mirror. Taking in all the neatness, the warm vanilla scented air fresheners. How the seat is propped back as far as it could possibly go to accommodate for his height. She notes how he kept himself a spare pair of glasses in one of the cupholders, another style than the ones he wore to the office. When he turns the car on, music began to boom through the speakers, jolting him with a twitch as he rushed to turn the volume all the way down, laughing through a string of apologies. She only giggles harder, clearly less upset than he was, more amused if anything.
Each mundane little thing about Clark piled more on to this growing irresistible urge to just make the plunge already, to crawl in his lap, to kiss him so hard his glasses get crooked and eventually fall right off his face. It became more tempting with each passing glance from the side, every accidental brush of her thigh with his hand while he shifted gears, a murmured apology with those signature pink cheeks. He always looked so embarrassed, and it somehow always served to really turn her on.
“Uh, so I’ll turn here right?”
“Yeah. Yeah just, just turn then you’ll go straight for a while. I’ll let you know when we’re approaching.”
Clark follows directions, going about five miles below the speed limit as he keeps his eyes on each house passing by, curiously wondering which one could be her home. Was it the well groomed, modern style with a picket fence, or an old school, overgrown lawn with an artsy mailbox?
He slows down more as the end of the street was coming, pulling off to the side as she pointed out her home. Clark forgets to hide how eager he is to scope it out, the little pink painted one story home with healthy plants branching out from their pots on the porch, the lady bug mat, the absence of any cars parked out front. Figures she must only get around anywhere on foot.
Rain still patters on the windshield as his windshield wipers barely keep up in time from the heavy drops, and puddles outside forming in the potholes of the road. Her plants looked to be the only happy ones to have some rain to quench them.
“This is me right here,” she reluctantly says, a sigh leaving her throat while she peers back over to the man in the driver’s seat. “I had fun, says a lot for a first day at a new job. Those are always pretty stressful but you’re such a great teacher that I know I’ll be in good hands,” she says, rubbing the lipgloss leftover on her lips together while eyeing him up and down, back and forth between his pretty face and his robust chest.
“I… I’m not that good, you just made it easy,” he disputes. “You asked all the right questions, you’re smart. I know you’ll get the hang of it real soon—“
“—You know, when I met Jimmy today he told me you were single,” she interjects before her mind could steer her away from the risky decision. “So was he… was he joking or was he—“
Clark groans loud, making a fist and then nearly slamming his forehead into it to hide his face, mortified that Jimmy set him up like this. To have this awkward interaction with his now co-worker.
“Gosh…. of course he did… that’s— no. I’m sorry he was acting inappropriate—“
“No as in you’re not single.”
Clark pulls his head back up, blinks, utterly confused.
“No, no I’m—“
“No as in yes?”
“N-No, no as in he’s right. I… I am, it’s just I didn’t want him disclosing stuff like that that to you, that information. Like as if you’d even care if a co-worker is single or not is ridiculous. If he makes you uncomfortable again I can talk to him, it doesn’t have to be a whole HR thing but if you want it to be I can absolutely help…”
She chews her bottom lip to prevent another shit eating grin from spreading onto her cheeks, placing a deliberate hand back on his upper arm to nab his attention, soothe any of his sudden woes.
“Listen, stop. Listen to me Clark. I was asking to clarify it with you because I was hoping that he was right,” she admits, a soft laugh not far behind the end of her small confession, trailing off with a rub of his shoulder, making him hold his breath and keen from the contact.
“You um. So you aren’t freaked out, you aren’t uncomfortable in any way? I just can’t imagine what it’s like, being a… a woman. A beautiful woman you know, like you, in a new workplace and having men be obnoxious on top of that—“
Clark stutters and takes a breather, shutting his car off and tilting his head up so his neck is exposed, blankly looking up at the ceiling.
“Clark.”
“Yeah?”
He doesn’t look back down or turn his head, Adam’s apple of his throat bobbing as he swallows more nerves down.
“I’m not uncomfortable. Not freaked out. And if you want me to just get my stuff and go, not mention any of this tomorrow, then I could,” she starts. Clark takes a deep breath in like he wants to interrupt, but she holds a finger up and he obeys, shutting his mouth closed. “Or,” she began. “I could kiss you for being so sweet, and we can act normal tomorrow, but you can give me another ride home if you aren’t busy again. And we can see where this goes.”
The drop of his jaw was nearly out of a cartoon, heartbeat throbbing so fast it might as well be audible in the quiet of the small space of his car. He can’t take his eyes off her, blinking ever so slightly when his eyes start to dry up. It looked like he wanted to pinch himself just to make sure everything was real.
“I… I really like the second option more. A lot.” he finally mutters. Licks his lips while staring down at hers like he had countless times today, this time with layers of restraint stripped away.
“I like the second option more too,” she chuckles at his dumbstruck face, soothing a palm over his thigh and rubbing his flexed muscles through his trousers. “I also noticed you changed your pants after lunch.”
Clark swallows while her face comes closer, nearly nose to nose, sharing and exchanging breath.
“Uh, yeah, yeah I….”
“That story about spilling some hot sauce was bullshit, right?”
Clark nods without a second thought, confirming everything she already knew.
“Did you have a little too much fun? Make too much a mess, had to end up changing before you got back to the office?”
“Yeah, yeah I did,” he bows his head down a bit, licking his lips again. Still close enough to smell her perfume, to stare at the glittery shine of her lipgloss, begging to know what it tastes like.
“I thought so.”
Clark doesn’t get another moment to think or conjure up a response before she’s leaning in and he’s dreamily shutting his eyes, humming into her mouth while she tilts her head to the side. Her nails splay out across his neck while he whimpers in her mouth, trying to keep up and savor the exquisite taste of her while he can. With plenty of hesitation trying to hold him back, he goes for it anyway and takes his own palm to the middle of her back, hugging her close to him while they kept making out like it wasn’t any different than coming home after years of being away.
“You’re really pretty, makes it really hard,” he pants. Pulls away but not too far, lips still brushing hers as he speaks.
She laughs right at him, tucking a curl behind his ear and adjusting his glasses so they’re straight again on his face. “Apt word choice there.”
“No! No I mean, that’s not what I meant….”
“As much as embarrassment looks cute on you, you don’t have to be,” she assures with another giddy laugh, kissing his cheek and leaving a subtle glossy mark on the skin. Then aims for each corner of his lips only to be pulled back in by him to get the heated momentum back up and running.
“You’re unbelievable,” he breathes. “I want to just… I wanna keep going forever.”
Shit, is he talking too much too soon?
“I mean you don’t have to, really, you can head home whenever you like… I only meant I like this a lot.”
She doesn’t let his overthinking become worse, just grabbing him by the collar and kissing him again. Adding tongue swirls into the mix.
“You taste like your Spearmint gum,” she observes. “Really nice.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Clark nods, his meek persona still in full swing even after having her tongue in his mouth. “You’d tell me if my breath was bad, right?”
“Of course I would.”
The pair still kept exploring each other’s kissing techniques, her hands stroking his arms and his chest while Clark’s stayed on the middle of her back in easy circles. It could’ve been ten, fifteen, even twenty minutes passing by while the rain hardly lightens up from pouring out from the gray clouds scattered in the sky. Clark offers to walk her up to the door so she could get home safe and dry, and she couldn’t pass up the offer, even if he kept reassuring her he didn’t mean to allude to any funny business. He takes off his own jacket to hover it over her head as they make the short trip, insisting he does it as to not get her hair wet.
“I like your plants, your place is cute. I can pick you up and take you home tomorrow if you’re up for that.”
She grins and gets up on her tippy toes to kiss him once again, an innocent little smooch he graciously accepts and reciprocates.
“And how about the day after that, and then the day after that, and the next week after that…”
Clark laughs at her and puts his jacket he’d been using to shield her from getting doused by the rain, squeezing her hip with another smile and going back in for yet another because it was too good to pass up.
“Absolutely. Rain or shine, I’ve got you.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bright and early. Do you have my number? Wait, hold on,” she unzips her purse and shuffles through it before finding her keys, unlocking the door and barging inside. Clark remains respectfully at the doormat, not willing to push any boundary this early, besides a car makeout here and there. He watches her in blissful astonishment as she scribbles on a piece of paper, folds it up then marches back to put it in his front pocket herself.
“For emergencies. And you know, anything else.”
Anything, she says. Anything else. “Right. Yeah. I’ll text you.”
“Please do. And text me when you’re home safe!”
“I will,” he chuckles, leaning his head back down to steal another goodbye kiss before he walks back to his car with a pep in his step that he hasn’t had in a long, long time.
“Bye!”
She waves from her porch before he chastises her to get back to her house so she doesn’t stay in the rain, but she just sticks her tongue out at him then goes back anyway.
It all felt intoxicating. He wondered if he could even drive in such a distracted, head in the clouds state like this.
His gut fluttered with butterflies and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, back on autopilot as he starts up the car, blasts the volume back up and turns back to the main road. It felt overwhelmingly unreal that he can still taste her lip gloss and how much it’s rubbed off on him. How he can still feel the ghost of her hands touching and caressing parts of him that haven’t been touched and felt like that. He has stars floating above his head like he’d been knocked the fuck out, unconscious.
Just as he’s venturing back to the street towards his place, his dick starts to feel wet against his left thigh. Still trapped by his boxers and his trousers, that same familiar sensation creeping back up on him before he could press the gas after a red light turns green. He clenches his jaw and tries to stay concentrated with tight hands on the wheel. Gasping when his dick starts tingling as he’s teased and rutted on by that same mysterious force, gliding him in between their lips, teasing their opening with his tip.
Clark barely makes it home and sticks his face in the steering wheel, licking his lips, breathing with his mouth stuck open. He feels when it goes inside, how the thrusts are long and filling and slow at first, excruciatingly wonderful as it’s taking him in down to his balls. Drenching him down with wet arousal on every pull out. His full body shivers again, butts his head against the wheel five times before accidentally bumping the horn.
Mortified with horror, he ducks his head down as much as he could and peaked around to catch only a few witnesses of his neighbors taking out their trash bins out on the curb. He awkwardly waves and subtly grabs onto his bulge through his trousers, dampness seeping through the fabric. With a braced huff, he counts to ten to enjoy the warm embrace before he’s exiting his vehicle, slamming the door and not bothering to fix his floppy hair before snatching his briefcase from the backseat, covering his crotch from the world and jogging to his door, soft rain still falling from above.
When he makes it inside he throws his belongings to the ground, rushes his clothes off akin to how he did on his lunch break earlier. As naked as he was born with those glasses still on, he lies back on the couch and clenches his jaw, absently thrusting up into the unknown heat. Feels the heat react with more tight clenches, taking his breath away. He closes his eyes and hugs a pillow to his abdomen while he pictures his new co-worker on top of him again, bouncing just like this wet heat on top of him right now. Wants her lipgloss to stick to his skin, wants to be engulfed in her hair, her perfume, her smile. Her laugh when she’s making fun of him.
Without any warning but the pit in his stomach squeezing and dropping, he cums like a fountain and it ripples out of him so fast it punches him into a straighter posture, all the sudden sitting up. He sees his own cum lathering his dick and his pubes, and he can distinguish the very moment she’s cumming not long later too.
After Clark lays there and chugs an old but full glass of water lying on his coffee table, he caught up to his breath as he tries to get himself together to draft up a text when he finds the energy to get up and pull that crumbled piece of paper out of his pant pocket.
With multiple tired, anxious tries of attempting to find some neutral ground between sounding caring and interested versus sounding desperate or obsessive, he takes a deep breath and presses send before he could talk his mind out of it.
Hey this is Clark. I made it back home safe awhile ago and forgot to let you know. Just wanna say I had fun and I’ll pick you up around 8:30 if that’s cool. Good night :)
Clark thinks of throwing his phone across the room to ignore the insecurities bubbling out of him. What else should I say. Was what I said too much. Will she even want to kiss me again? She said she’d tell me if my breath tasted bad. What if tomorrow things are different—
A text tone buzzed his couch cushion, phone screen lighting up. Surprised but delighted, he rips it back up off the couch and shoves it in his face to read carefully.
I probably had even more fun than you. Glad you’re home safe and I’ll see you tomorrow :) 8:30 sounds perfect Mr. Yes Man. I’ll be waiting out front for you, get good rest! goodnight!
Gobsmacked, he’s left re-reading the same words over and over and over until his eyes grew heavy and he knew time for bed was gonna have to be a little early tonight. He brushes his teeth, wishing he could keep the remnants of her lips on his mouth but knows he just has to wait until tomorrow for more kisses. With a hiss he scrubs his dick of the sloppy mess left thick and slathered on his entire lower half with a warm washcloth.
While he’s in bed he idly wonders what her nights looked like. If she spends them alone like Clark does. If she was more outgoing than him, had people over, went out more. If her life had more color on the pages than his. Dirtier thoughts naturally start to seep in after that, threatening to really take over the narrative he’s built in his mind. Does she touch herself nearly as much as he does? Can she cum multiple times if she’s coaxed? Does she take more charge or does she want him to take over? Or maybe she wanted both. He could do both.
Endless wonders still can’t help flooding his thoughts, so much so that they infiltrate his dream as he slowly drifts off to sleep. Dreaming of her on top of him, of playing with his tie before yanking on it to pull him around as she pleased. She got down further and nuzzled her cheek against his bulge through his office pants and took him out to lick it down like a lollipop was between his legs, even squeezing on him so good it hurt a little bit.
The dream ended with her on top and riding him, backwards cowgirl style, tight hold of his tie still in her fist. When he’s pulled out of his dream and awoken it’s around two in the morning, and somehow his dick had gotten just as wet and used in the night again, this time while he wasn’t even conscious. Clark thought he’d aged out of having any more dirty, raw, cum-in-his-pants type of wet dreams like these. He guessed that now after the day that he had and the girl that he met that everything was about to turn upside down.
. . .
thank you thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged and liked my first part im so happy you guys are enjoying its so fun reading everyone’s reactions :) i like the alternating POVs too for this between her + him
****(only able to fit 50 tags per post, I’ll make another one linked to this post so I can tag the rest!)
(partial) tag list: @7angel7spit7 @imsonotweird @fuhinn77-blog @sunflowers-and-rainy-days @astraea-and-her-novels @brains-2-beauty @theplaid-wearingmoose @navybluelover @kirbyisking99 @ifyouseethisnoyoudont22 @idontexistrightnow @caffeineaddicty @tinythebunni @contaminatedcupcake @klarkcentral @tragicgirl23 @carlandoxlestappen @thecheeseman27 @darker0moon221b @bad-wolf1991 @just-aliyah @iceyyycapsicle @rrosesandtears *rest of tag list will be in separate post linked to this one cause of the tag limit!
toy flesh [explicit 18+] — [part 1] Clark randomly feels someone sitting on his dick even when he’s alone in his room. pretty much. part one for that magic toy prelude in my masterlist
. . .
Clark thinks it has to be a one off thing. Has to be. A wet dream too close to reality that somehow got his dick a little too wet. A hallucination manifested in some relaxing body tremors that felt so good it ultimately had him cumming everywhere in his pants, untouched, with the book he was nose-deep in forgotten while he lied down and stared at the wall in wide eyed, wide-mouthed shock. What just happened? How did that just happen?
He holds out hope that maybe he’ll get to touch himself and get rid of this pent up energy, get it flushed out of his system, not feel the same unexplained touch of someone else’s body—someone else’s flesh directly on top of him. While he goes about his daily routine before work he doesn’t ever stop looking down at his dick like he’s checking in on it. See if it falls off or grows a bigger brain of its own. Pulls his waistband out to take a confused peak while he’s scrubbing his teeth, foam running down the corner of his mouth. Watches his dick swing around and reluctantly roll upward and harden again from the memory even as he’s ironing the fine lines in his button down shirt.
It felt juvenile. It felt ridiculous.
What grown man couldn’t keep it down and stay soft for a dull eight hour work day?
He has to fondle himself to the memory again before he leaves, cum uncontrollably splashing just about everywhere even though he prepares himself with a tissue right at the tip. The shirt he spent nearly fifteen minutes ironing had to get thrown in the wash and replaced with something wrinkly and unkempt, but at least it was free of cum stains.
Clark sighs as the elevator door opens up to his office floor, trudging over to his desk and setting his briefcase down. Skips right over to their break room’s coffee maker to brew up a sugary full cup for the day ahead of him. Jimmy gave him a greeting with a rougher pat on the shoulder, jolting Clark in a reactionary shiver when he thinks back to being touched in bed by no one or something while he was withering all alone in his room.
He pushes his glasses up his scrunched up nose, letting out an almost disgruntled sounding hey.
Jimmy squints at him, noticing the offbeat attitude of his close friend and coworker. “You good, man? Sleep alright last night or did somebody take a hot piss in your Froot Loops?”
“Slept… slept fine, it’s just I’m kinda going through stuff right now. I don’t know.”
Clark swallows and stirs his steaming cup after dropping another sugar cube in. Jimmy pats his shoulder once again, trying to get Clark to meet his eyes with a tilt of his head.
“You know… maybe it’s about time.”
“What?”
“You know, dude, maybe it’s that time. Time for you to get yourself laid. I think it could help flush out some of these nerves in your system. You seem so tense. I know a few girls that would hop on that train, if you know what I mean.”
Clark turns beat red rather quickly, taking a long sip to gather his thoughts and come up with a response.
“Yeah you couldn’t have been any more direct actually. I… listen I understand, but it’s not that. Trust me, I’m getting… more than you think. I guess. Cause something like, something happened last night, I don’t even know how to explain it. And I liked….. it. It’s just really weird so maybe now’s not the time to discuss—“
Jimmy laughs a long, boyish giggle and slaps one of Clark’s broad shoulders, pulling Clark further aside into the corner with a look around for any coworkers meandering.
“Dude, I knew it. You found yourself a lady. You’ve been getting some and you haven’t been telling me. That’s really lame of you man, I thought our friendship had no barriers—“
“I haven’t met a— look, okay, it was weird, and I mean really really weird. I don’t know if you’ll understand it or if it’ll just sound crazy.”
“Whatever crazy thing you’re about to say, I’ve probably done crazier,” Jimmy assures with a knowing nod paired with a grin. “Trust me.”
“Uh, okay….” Clark clears his throat and lowers his voice, leaning down to Jimmy’s ear level. “Have—have you ever like, came untouched before? Felt someone…. down there…. even though no one else was in the room?”
Clark stares at Jimmy now, loosening the tie around his collar like he’s already broke out in another sweat just thinking about it. Wondering if it might happen again. If he has some odd guardian angel that likes to fuck him and look after him all at the same time.
“You mean you finished, no hands, completely dry? You’re living the dream. Should be more grateful. Why do you look so terrified right now.”
Clark closes his eyes and pinches his brows in a long sigh before nodding to Jimmy to follow him to the bathrooms after setting his coffee on his desk. With uneasy paranoia he peers down to check for any feet on the floor in the stalls before he continues.
“I… I don’t think you get it. It felt like someone literally rode me, like, put me inside them and came on my dick and everything. I wasn’t doing anything! Wasn’t even hard before it started happening, I was just reading. I don’t know how else to explain this or make it any clearer to you!”
Jimmy looks astounded after every word, awestruck with an open mouth. Even flashes of envy pass through his eyes while he chuckles and shakes his head. Typical Clark and his way of complicating things. Overthinking what truly sounded like a gift. “Sounds like a you’re being haunted by a friendly ghost that just wants to hop on that thing, dude. So what did it really feel like? And can I get one too?”
Clark closes his eyes and his mind goes back to last night. In the comfort of his soft sheets, legs sprawling out and taking over the entirety of his bed. How right when the plot of his novel started taking off he felt almost a tickle. A wiggle of what felt like a smooth, slithery tongue. It was unrecognizable when it started, like maybe he had an itch down there to scratch, or maybe some blood began randomly flowing down south.
When it became unmistakeable, too soft and wet to deny what was happening to him, he slammed his book shut with the bookmark in place and spread his legs wider, feeling the sweat breaking out. Feels his dick happily jump right into the warm invisible hole teasing his tip. He felt the hole clench down and struggle to take him all, slowly inching up and down like a bunny on top of what it could take. He clenched a fist at his side and held his dick up with a thumb, raising his hips gently into the heavenly heat. How the pace it had going stuttered when he did, probably in shock that he had more of himself to give.
Clark remembers crying with pleasure, pre cum getting drained out of him so effortlessly, so smoothly. Drool picks up on his tongue while he’s nearly going cross eyed, the pussy on top of him bouncing harder, bouncing faster—
“It feels— it feels unbelievable. I mean it was incredible,” Clark answers Jimmy’s question that had awkwardly hung in the air. “Haven’t felt anything like it before. Something might be seriously wrong with me.”
Jimmy raises a brow. “Watching too much porn? Just take a break. Meet a girl.”
Clark’s full body shivers, goosebumps now swarming up his arms and the back of his neck, making all the hairs there start to stand up. He feels an eager hand all the sudden grab onto his bare cock and slick their palm down, cold and wet like the hand had a puddle of lube to gloss him down.
If it hasn’t visibly shown up as a wet spot on his groin through his trousers yet, by the feeling of it it’ll start showing a dark spot soon. If he didn’t take his dick out it would surely start a puddle that would only dry as a fresh stain.
Clark takes a deep, shaky breath, turning over to grab onto the tile of the wall, resting his forehead against it and gripping like he’s engulfed in pain. Like his surroundings started spinning all around him.
“Woah, Clark. Dude. Take it easy. What’s happening?”
Jimmy gets closer to check on his friend but Clark can’t take it, shooing him off with a hurried no, it’s fine—just get out of here. I need a second. thanks!
“You sure you’ll be able to hold up the rest of today? You have enough leave. I’m sure Lois would understand—”
“Just, just…. I need to take a— I’ll take a ten, okay,” he whimpers, clutching onto the humiliating bulge growing so fast he already was showing a hefty print. “Maybe a fifteen. I can’t—I don’t know.” The hand stopped slicking up and down his cock and he feels it tease him by rubbing his length up and down a pearly wet slit, not yet having him enter.
He shoos Jimmy away and hurries to a stall, slamming it shut and locking it with his back to the door while his dick bobs around for more of her attention. Tingles sprout in his belly while his whole body starts to tense.
“Uh, okay,” Jimmy mutters. “Well I’ll leave you to it I guess? Here for you buddy. Don’t piss off your ghost girlfriend. Maybe next time she won’t fuck you as good if you do,” he laughs.
“Shut. The door. And shut. Up!” Clark howls, fumbling with his zipper and rushing to roll some toilet paper up into a ball for his tip when he’s hanging out of his boxers. He distantly hears his friend mumble a jeez, so touchy. sorry and the door creaks open and falls closed. With privacy at last, Clark is able to heave and thrust his hips gently into the beautiful, tight wet heat, little abstract murmurs and whimpers leaving his throat while his dick gets wetter, and wetter, and wetter.
“Don’t—Don’t, don’t want you to stop,” he quietly begs. Veins popping on his temple from all the straining his body is doing. “But I… I have to get back to work.”
Whatever is wrapped around his cock doesn’t pay his words any mind, sinking down all the way to his balls and creaming on his base the more they start their rough bouncing. Like they’re angry, like they’re taking everything out on his cock. Clark wished he knew what he did wrong, or maybe what he did right to deserve this kind of treatment from someone he couldn’t even see.
“I’m not gonna last, I’m not, it feels so good…. feels too good…. I can’t handle this again, not right now,” he breathes. Sees his tip bead more floods of pre cum and slip down the base of his cock, getting his balls messy with slick. The sound is obscene, with every up and down motion everything can be heard. How wet the pussy around him really is. How his cock stuffs it all the way through. If somebody came in right now, they would think he’s having real sex with a real body in this stall right now. When in all honestly, Clark doesn’t know what he’s having.
“Oh my gosh, gosh you’re more wet this time, you’re getting it so wet…. You’re gonna get me in trouble, wait…. please.”
The pussy on top of his dick starts to quiver, tremble and squeeze him down harder than before. Like it’s finally found release after a record of an eight minute round of going nuts on him like he’s nothing but a toy built strictly for their use.
Some cum that isn’t even his starts dribbling down on him, and that’s when the floodgates start to open. Clark can’t hold it anymore, and he doesn’t know how bad it’s gonna be trying to both cover his load and then clean it all up.
He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut once again, knuckles turning white while he holds on for dear life and busts another long, drawn out nut into whatever this thing is that’s tortured him yet again. He spits out rope after rope of cum in the waiting piece of balled up paper and tries to catch it all there but a few stray drips do manage to burst out too fast for him to act. He sprays a part of the wall and whines a little no, please, please no, you made me cum too hard again, I need to get back to work.
The come down is always humbling. Seeing exactly how foolish he was acting as the sweat under his arms and on his face visibly stains his clothes and his skin. He managed to wipe off his messy cum lines off the wall and stuffs another rolled up ball of toilet paper down his boxers to soak up whatever else is leftover in his pants.
When he feels ready enough he’s still catching his breath and trying to get his blushing face under control as he heads over to the sink to splash some water on his face. Presses on the soap dispenser over and over again until more than a mountain of soap is bubbling in his palm, lathering his sticky, filthy hands.
Clark fights everything inside him to try and act natural when he heads back to his desk. Ruffles his hair more than necessary, tightens his tie, rolls up his sleeves.
The cup of coffee he’d made had lost most of its heat but Clark was so preoccupied in his head he doesn’t notice, still gulping some down and logging back into his computer to answer more messages and emails that were left for him. His eyes zone in on an email he’d been CC’d in from Jimmy and Lois about an upcoming new hire’s start date for their vacant Office Assistant position.
The email read that Clark would be assigned as the one primarily training her since he’d started out in her exact title position a year ago. Clark adds a thumbs up to the email and closes out of it to start on another assignment, thinking in the very back of his head that if his dick can’t control himself while he’s training said new hire next week he’d be blowing his brains out, not out of his cock next time.
Jimmy side eyes him from across the room, mouthing a you good? much to Clark’s bashful shake of his head, assuring him with a roll of his eyes and a tired response of yeah, I’m fine. shut up.
Lois comes out of the blue up behind him and drops a fat stack of paperwork on Clark’s desk with a tight smile.
“New hire coming in next week. You got my email right?”
Clark nods and leans back in his chair, casual as he can muster.
“She’ll have to mostly rely on you for help and onboarding, since me and Jimmy have too much going on. Travel, deadlines, some new leads finally getting back to us for interviews. So you’ll take her under your wing for us, yeah?”
“Of course. It’s not uh, it won’t be a problem,” he answers under his breath, taking another sorry sip of his lukewarm coffee. He hopes the thing in his pants won’t be a problem.
“You sure? Jimmy said you didn’t look well. You can’t call out and leave her all alone here on her first few days, it’s gonna be overwhelming in the start—“
“Jimmy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m fine. It’ll get taken care of,” he promised.
“Alright, then don’t get her sick, got it?”
Clark wants to slap Jimmy for even bringing up his frazzled state to anybody in the office, mortified over what had taken place barely ten minutes ago, and how unpredictable his dick was gonna act for a while. Or forever. Who even knows at this point.
“My germs are all mine,” he swears, hands defensively up in the air. “Count on it.”
Lois gives him another one of her hard stares that basically told him she’d make him eat his words if he dared showing up to the office coughing, sneezing, puking. Clark was only worried about leaving his desk for twenty minutes at a time to get his dick rode by the same tempting mystical source he had yet to fully identify, let alone begin to understand.
It never left his brain even while he worked, back of his pen stuck in his mouth to chew on while he wrote up more emails and forwarded ones from their general inbox. Hours had gone by until he had about forty five more minutes left until he could be freed and finally head home, and Clark really thought he was in the clear of having another accident during work hours.
That was up until the fucking tease went at it again. The warm, sopping wet tightness wraps around his tip and slips him in, no mercy given. His dick springs back to life effortlessly, and Clark wants to cry.
He holds his head by covering his face with both hands, scooting his swivel chair forward so his crotch was safely hidden underneath. He drools an ungodly amount at the tip, feeling how eager this round was for her, how quickly she ruts against him and has him crying softly into the sleeve of his shirt.
Clark’s mewling and groaning is muffled into his arm, too helpless to hold in any of his noise when they move in sways up and down, switching off between going deep and going shallow with their pushes. Clark is beat red all over again, giving up after several minutes of unabashed torture and shielding his wet crotch with his briefcase pressed up against him, running off back to the toilets this time to sit down and breathe while undeniably enjoying everything being done to him. Fuck the last thirty minutes of his shift. Fuck the emails and the phone calls and the scans and the letters.
Clark shuts his eyes and actually smiles for a change as he eggs on whatever higher power bouncing on top of him to keep going. Nods his head and can’t help his soft murmurings of please, yeah, yeah keep doing that, you do it so good.
It might be his new imaginary best friend, or it might be his first sign to go to a mental hospital. Whatever it was, since it’s made Clark cum this hard, he guessed it couldn’t have mattered too much if it always made him feel this good.
. . .
The weekend was spent the same way. Getting his dick milked while he lied back and screeched every time she squeezed on him some way, somehow. He doesn’t answer anyone that texts him for plans, doesn’t do the dishes or take care of his laundry like how he’d hoped. No. He whines and stutters and cries, barely able to get in the shower without his dick getting trampled on.
It’s not a long shot to think he could be developing something. A mental illness. A haunted curse that plagues him with orgasms at all times of the night and the day. He’s one more round away from calling somebody to perform an exorcism or splash holy water on him to escape this succubus that had to be laughing in his face at how easy he is to rile up.
When Monday comes around again Clark doesn’t want to take any chances traumatizing the new hire with all the blotches of cum stains littering his pants. With a scoff and a sigh he steps each leg into a second pair of boxers to make slightly more effort into covering up. Even packs a backup pair in case both pairs he’s currently wearing are soiled by the end of the day.
After a hectic first hour of scanning and distributing the stack of morning mail from the bin, he slips a stick of gum on his tongue and gnaws on the flavor with his mouth open when an unfamiliar silhouette teeters closer towards the edge of his desk from the entrance.
Clark doesn’t get to looking up until she’s clearing her throat, playing with a strand of her hair with a smile aimed at the ground.
“Hi, sorry if I’m interrupting your work. I’m actually starting today,” she explains, eyeing him up from head to toe. Clark rips his head up at the voice and clears his throat, sitting up straighter and pulls a polite hand out.
“Oh! Oh, yeah that’s right. You’re our new hire. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Clark.”
She takes his hand with a laugh. Clark wished he understood what was funny. He joins in on it anyway, anxiously chuckling while he doesn’t stop shaking her hand in his. Realizing it had been well over ten seconds of her soft palm held up in his own long, gigantic fingers, he slips his hand off of hers, lingering in the awkward air of the moment.
She nods and scans her gaze around, peaking at the state of Clark’s desk. The endless string of sticky notes, the protein shakes, the tie he’d already taken off his neck. “So am I in the right place, or—“
“Yup. Yeah, yeah you found where you should be. I’ve been tasked to uh, help you fill all this out. After that we can get you started on some basics,” he breathes out, pointing to the stack resting on the side of his desk, sticky note on top with her name on it. Clark finds himself trying a little desperately to keep himself more cool, more composed. She’s the kind of pretty that made him nervous, suddenly aware of his undone appearance, of every awkward move he makes. He stops chewing his gum with as much rigor, clenches his jaw and scratches the back of his neck.
“I started out in the position you’re in, it’s real easy to move up,” he mentions, gathering up the paperwork and attempting to straighten it out before a quarter of the pages fall from his grasp in a pile. Beat red, Clark doesn’t do anything but stare at the ground and sigh before sheepishly joining in on her laughs.
“You’re pretty organized, aren’t you?” she chuckles, bending over to pick up the few documents that landed on the floor. Clark’s jaw even drops when he catches the smallest glimpse of her hot pink colored thong poking up above from her dress pants.
“Yeah. Yeah I really am, you know. Organization is key,” he nods, tight lipped smile still on his face. He takes the pages she hands him over, watching her subtly arch her head to smell something in the air. Fuck. What the fuck? Did he even put on any cologne this morning after draining his dick for the hundredth time?
Before he could shoot himself in the head with more irrational insecurities his mind makes up she soothed his very visible worry with another laugh and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Is it me? Do I reek like sweat or something—?”
“No, no. You don’t smell bad, you’re fine. I was just trying to figure out if you were chewing Spearmint or not,” she assures. “I like it. Promise. You do not reek of anything,” she snorted through another laugh. Clark beams, looking around everywhere but her face. Afraid his face could give his every fleeting thought away.
Thank god. “Uh, oh yeah. Yeah it’s Spearmint. You want a piece? I have a new pack,” he offers. To his surprise, she snatches up a piece out of his hand hardly before he gets to offer it to her. Blinks dumbly while she opens it up and tears the piece in half, stuffing one in her mouth and giving the other half back to him.
“Uh—“
She smiles at him, chewing the gum out of one side of her cheek. “I have this oral thing. A fixation I guess. Chewing or having something in my mouth really helps me.”
The thing about Clark is, he has manners. Has restraint. Thought he was a good boy that didn’t go on and chase any tail that came into his orbit. Especially not a new pretty co-worker. He doesn’t want to think about putting different parts of himself inside her mouth just to calm her down. Or the color of her thong. Or that wicked smile and addicting perfume to match. Something tries to draw him in closer, reason with his conscience like she’s teasing little signals, it’s not like you’re her boss or anything. if you flirt back no one would know a thing.
Clark stops his zoning out and nods his head to agree. “I get it. Having stuff in my… in my mouth cools me off too. Like—like stress.”
“You shouldn’t worry yourself that much. Seems like you’re wound up pretty tight.”
He feels like there’s this window into his thoughts standing clear as day right above his head, broadcasting every fleeting thought or mood. When he tries to look at her, stare at her back the same way she stares at him, he just wanted to run away before his own dick caught up with him.
Clark scratches his chin and sheepishly nods with his head down, agreeing with a gentle mumble, yeah you know, just normal stuff, kinda on edge. Not like he randomly cums in his pants or anything. He quickly finds a way to change subjects by directing his focus back to the work left in front of them and guides her to sit over at her new desk to fill out some new hire paperwork. She taps him on the shoulder and grins when she says his name to ask him questions. He dutifully answers everything he can, emails some higher ups to get her logins to some of their systems and trains her how they go through their mail and answer consumer’s inquiries over the phone.
She takes just about everything in a stride. Overwhelmed of course by certain things that have nuances and will take more time getting used to. Clark introduces her to more staff, waves to Lois, makes the new hire her own cup of coffee after showing her their break room. Jimmy tries to raise a brow, even wiggles both of them up and down at him from behind her back, but it only makes Clark kick him in the shin and gruffly threaten him under his breath as he’s passing by while she wasn’t looking.
Clark sends her off to her first break, telling her to meet him back at her desk for more training later. Watches absentmindedly as she picks up her purse, snatched up a lighter from one of the pockets and stuck a cigarette behind her ear, waving goodbye and strolling out to the elevator doors. Before the elevator doors close he could see her take the stick from her ear and put it between her lips, probably a habit she’s picked up from that oral thing, Clark figured. He wants to stop himself from picking apart her business but he’s too intrigued to stop, still lost in thought at his desk while he takes a break of his own.
After spitting his piece of gum out he chugs a few thick swigs of his protein shake, spaced out in blank thought. A corner of his mouth smiles when he feels the other half of that stick of gum she’d torn off and given back. His dick twitches but ultimately stayed soft, undetected in his pants. He’d shamefully started wondering how the hell his dick was so well behaved, so normal today of all days. Not that it was a bad thing. He just found it curious. Why was this the first time in days his dick wasn’t getting swallowed, rode, or came on by whatever invisible force that clearly had been having its fun tormenting him? And will it ever come back to fuck him again?
Once Jimmy finds Clark alone at his desk wiping fingerprints off his glasses, he swats his shoulder and bashed one of his knees to his swivel chair, causing him to start spinning.
“What the hey, dude—don’t—“
“This could be your shot. All’s I’m sayin,” he shrugs. Sees Clark stop his chair and shove his friend forward, only enough power to knock him off his feet a little bit. “Hey, hey! That’s all I’m saying, I said!” he laughs and defensively puts both his palms up to shield himself from any more of Clark’s wrath.
“You can’t say that stuff. Don’t. She’s new, okay! And… and she needs my help learning everything around here. She doesn’t need some big oaf getting in her business, abusing power, or being… being weird towards her,” he concludes.
“Hey, opportunities sometimes fall right out of the sky. This one just fell right into your lap. And you’re not a fat oaf dude. Pfft, you actually think being her co-worker is gonna affect anything?”
“Uh, yes it does in fact. It will literally affect everything. You think it’d be appropriate for me to treat her like that?”
Jimmy shrugs again, ruffles Clark’s curls and says he should think about reconsidering some of his rules and start breaking them in order to finally get something he wants.
When she’s back from her break her hair is damp, fresh perfume sprayed on her coat to get rid of some of the stench from her cigarette. She looks refreshed, albeit a little more flustered than she was before she left. Her boots squeak slightly on the floor from stepping out on the wet ground outside. He thinks about complimenting her boots, her coat, her hair, thinks about complimenting her everything. But his words fall short after his voice cracks from the very simple greeting of hey, welcome back.
“Hey, can I ask you for a favor after work? It’s totally fine if you say no or if you can’t. You don’t have to give me any reasons,” she assures.
Already eager to know what she’s going to be asking of him, his ears perk and his posture straightens up as he scoots his chair over to her desk.
“Yeah of course. What’s up?”
“It started raining pretty hard and the forecast says it won’t stop until tomorrow morning. I actually walked here to work, and if it’s not any trouble, would you be able to give me a lift back home?”
Clark swallows an upcoming lump in his throat, feeling his palms start to get clammy. The mere thought of the proximity was enticing. Having her next to him, in his car. Her trust in him helping her with something as intimate as having her get back home safely. He tries to answer casually, like he’s a nonchalant guy — as if the offer wasn’t any big deal, wasn’t making his heart start to beat a little faster.
What comes out though is a horribly rushed, clumsy, stuttered —
“Ohyeahofcourse, you don’t even have to worry about it!”
Jimmy’s teasing still echoes through the hallway of his brain. About opportunities. About how sometimes they seem to fall right out of the sky. How this one has fallen right into his lap.
“Thanks so much Clark, I appreciate it. You’ve been the sweetest guy. I’m really lucky to have you here to teach me everything,” she praised. Turning his cheeks pink in all of two seconds with a flat palm on his broad shoulder, squeezing gently and holding the warmest smile.
“We’re lucky to have you. You’ve been— you’ve been great,” he gulps, trying to bring the focus back to her. “We don’t have too much more to fill out, but um, I don’t wanna overwhelm you with any more new things today. Let’s wrap up this paperwork then we’ll hopefully get you on those phones to practice the last hour.”
“Great! I’m almost finished with those. And for the record I do promise where I live isn’t far, I don’t wanna be too much an inconvenience,” she laughs. Clark shook his head again, ready to protest the very idea that she was asking too much. In truth, she was so stupid pretty that if she asks him to say his ABC’s backwards he’d still give it his best shot. She almost cuts off his attempt to deny it, straightening up some of the last pages left to read over and sign.
“You are not any inconvenience. If you are, then please keep inconveniencing me,” he says, flashing a toothy smile at her. He prays to himself that it comes out right, and to his delight, she grins back, adorable face expressing back to him, well, then don’t mind if I do. “with anything you need, I’ll be here.”
Is he being too much?
“Thanks, Clark. I owe you.”
Oh? What should you owe me?
He shakes off any perverted thoughts and spares a glance at his watch.
“Are you hungry? It could be lunch time. Up to you. We don’t clock in and out, we just have timesheets, so breaks are pretty flexible.”
“Yeah, I could eat.”
Clark’s head screams well there’s a full meal right in front of you.
“Great.”
. . .
He sees her head off to the break room and start chatting with Lois, smiling at her welcoming disposition while she checks in on how her training is going. Clark knows he has the option to stay, to ogle while he ate at his desk, but he feels like he has too much steam to blow off before handling the rest of the day. With a long final exhale, he adjusts his glasses and snatched up his keys to head back home for his lunch hour.
Once he’s back at his apartment he immediately sheds his god awful shoes and his suffocating button down before he’s lying flat on his back in bed, staring up at the wall. Trying to manifest that magical touch and beckon it to come back. Beg for it even. Wonders to himself if there’s some hidden way he hasn’t figured out yet to trigger it, or if it’ll always remain spontaneous.
Clenching his jaw he angrily starts groping his crotch, trying to feel himself out. He opens one eye to peer down at his dick and see if he just thought about it hard enough he’ll bring it back to life, feel that beautiful all consuming weight drip on top of him again.
“C’mon. C’mon, please… You… you’ve fucked me every day and I took it all last night, now I want it, I need it. Right here, please?”
Clark strokes his cock while it sways back and forth against his belly, mind already feeding into an idiotic fantasy of his new hire bending over, showing him her pretty colored thong. Maybe she’d pull her panties up higher so they’re peaking out further above her waistline, or maybe she’d pull them over to the side….
He raises his hips off the bed to thrust into his fist at the thought, pants still strung down barely past his groin. Figures if he shows back up to work the rest of the day in different pants, it’s his business and his business only, and so be it.
“Oh god it was so good last time, wish you could touch me like that again…”
He knows it’s pathetic. Everything he’s doing, everything he’s saying. While he grips the tip and twists particularly tight, he shamefully whimpers out his new hire’s name while his dick starts to drip into pubes. Messy, sticky, but gosh he needed this. Clark deeply misses the warmth on top of him, the hot teasing, the bouncing, and the thrill of not knowing what will happen next—
“Oh my god….”
. . .
part two
posting this cuz I’m so done looking at it already dear jesuslawd. if I should keep going somehow let me know I love coworkerXcoworker getting down and nasty. I like the idea of clark not knowing what’s going on and getting slobbered on by his work crush. fully no clue when/if the next part comes out oh my lawd. thanks soooo so much for all the love on the first little prelude:( im so obsessed with every reblog+comment
explicit 18+ ……. so oh my god imagine there was some magic* doll type dildo that you bought at a random hole in the wall toy shop, label on the packaging claiming it was the most realistic one made to date and the price tag definitely reflected it. you liked the girth, the curve, the entire shape of it so much that the dent in your bank account didn’t seem to matter when you rushed to grab it off the shelf since it looked to be the only one in stock.
the magic* part of it being where everytime you suck it and ride it, clark (and only clark specifically, from miles and miles away) could feel everything you’re doing to it and doesn’t even know what’s happening. doesn’t understand why his dick starts feeling so fucking good out of the blue. first time it happens it’s a mundane Sunday night, the same night you went to the toy shop and bought it. he’s lying on his back in bed reading when he feels a velvety magic invisible tongue-like pull begin slurping on his dick. licking up his balls, gulping him down like every inch was breakfast. and it made him pause, put a bookmark on the page he left on, stare down at his dick still sitting snug in his boxers and getting wetter by the minute.
he holds his breath and pinches his brows when all the sudden the tightest, wettest hole just seemed to start fucking itself silly on his cock like it was the most primal urge that needed to get sated, and only he could provide the fill. he doesn’t know what’s happening, doesn’t know how he can possibly be feeling these things as if someone really was on top of him fucking the shit out of his dick. he gasps when his dick twitches and bobs around like it’s having the most fulfilling fuck of its life, nearly knocking clark the fuck out when he slams his head back barely landing on his pillow and clenching his fists on the bedsheet.
the invisible pussy on top of him just bounces away, switching up angles that seemed to nudge her in her favorite places, angling the dildo so his curve grazes up against her tender spots. his yells echo in his empty bedroom as he cums so hard and so prematurely it began gushing out of him, and while you’re riding away on the dildo that unbeknownst to you was somehow physically tied and connected to clark’s real dick, you start to feel the warm splashes of cum roping out and you look down, out of breath from the most satisfying workout you’ve been able to have in awhile, seeing how it starts dripping out of you. and then you end up wondering if the package of the sex toy you bought even disclosed if it came with fake cum inside……
part one + part two
. . .
could potentially write up a whole freak fic of this if I have the inspo and the time lmfao I have so muchhh I wanna write this filth came to me in a psychic daydream ……. Magic dildo yum
ಇ . . . superboy-prime yaps while fucking you silly !
"no, oh my god, babe," he chuckles, hot mouth kissing the column of your neck so sweetly, letting his mumbled info-dump seep into your skin. "see, togruta and twi'lek appendages have completely different functions—"
you moan, soft and unsteady and all too susceptible to the way his cock sits so snugly in you. he rocks into your heat, seemingly unaffected by the way you gasp and flutter when he brushes the spot that makes your head spin and your pussy squelch like one of the eldritch monsters he loves.
and he just keeps talking.
he presses his flushed cheek to yours. sinks the thick fingers of his left hand into the plush of your thigh, plays with your slick, throbbing clit with his right thumb. casually lets a smirk play on his stupid, cute mouth—you can feel the impression of his dimple—as his voice dips into gravel against the shell of your ear:
"twi'lek lekku are prehensile and have some limbic cortex function, so physiological expression of emotion and language—"
sharp need coils tighter in your belly, making you whimper into the warmth of his neck. "mm, c—"
"shh, i know, baby," clark rasps, letting the hand on your thigh travel up and press firmly below your navel. you feel all of him, every ridge and vein, slipping out a pitched sound caught between a choked groan and a squeal.
he continues, though this time thrusting a little more urgently, thank god. "and togruta lekku are connected to their montrals, which—fuck, you just got so tight—ah, are used for echo-locative purposes because their species is carnivorous..."
"'m gonna cum, clark," you pant, eyes squeezing shut as the pads of your fingers press against his scarred, sculpted chest desperately. he hums, nosing your cheek and flicking your swollen bundle of nerves like a joystick.
"okay, okay, 'm sorry," is the hushed, completely unapologetic reply. clark's cock lets the filthy, wet sound of him plunging in and out of your cunt speak for his mouth, which is sucking a new hickey into your shoulder.
still, you can tell that he wants to talk—the tense line in his broad, muscular shoulders says so.
"that's it, that's it, c'mon sweetheart, give it to me..."
you cum on his cock with a choked cry, senses dimming as your system sharpens on the overwhelming pleasure spilling from your core, the rhythmic clench of your walls around him.
"shit, shit," he whimpers, syllables spilling out of his mouth as he starts to rut into you with renewed vigor, chasing his own orgasm and pushing you deeper into his batman-patterned sheets. "okay, lemme explain reverse cursed technique before i bust."
Clark who learns how to dirty talk from reading readers smut books she leaves around the house 🫣
caught red-handed.
i need him so fucking bad. clark x fem!reader. 18+. word count: approx 1.3k. asks are open.
you had completely forgotten that you left your book laying face-down on your living room sofa before heading out to buy groceries. yknow that one book? the one that explored the wild colours and romance of sweet sex, or the hunger and heat that followed certain chapters. what you hadn’t expected was to find your dearest clark completely engrossed in the erotic novel- well specifically chapter 14.
clark was sitting on the edge of the couch with his elbows leaned towards on his knees, oblivious to your entrance. his glasses were pushed up to the bridge of his perfect nose, his brows furrowed in deep concentration, the type he used when writing headlines and articles. he held the paperback of the book gently, not even creasing a single page despite his godly strength.
you set the grocery bags down onto the marble counter, putting some of its content away before quickly heading to the living room, smiling smugly at the way his breathe hitched when he read over the page. “page 82 is a masterpiece right clark?” you said gently, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.
clark gasped, like a kid who’d been caught sneaking in the cookie jar, his head snapped up to meet your eyes so fast you’re surprised it hadn’t given him whiplash. in a frantic clumsy panic that was so adorably him, he scrambled back towards the sofa cushions, instantly shoving the book face-down under the nearest pillow, as if trying to convince himself he hasn’t even touched it.
“i—“ clark started, his voice cracking on the syllable. a furious cute pink blush rushed from the collar of his shirt all the way to the tip of his ears. “hey! you’re..” he gulped softly, “you’re back early! i was just-..well i was just fluffing the pillows. and, yknow, it was there.”
“mhmmm”, you raised an amused brow, smirking whilst you step into his space, “and did fluffing the pillows require you to actually read it? you were so focused you didn’t even say hi when i came in! and that’s saying something mr.i-have-super-hearing”, you laugh warmly as you poke his cheek.
clark winced at the poke, his hand covering up his cheek in an embarrassed manner but it did absolutely nothing to his blush. he glanced to your eyes before sighing softly, his shoulders slumping in defeat, “okay..you caught me.” he mumbled, reaching up to take off his glasses and look at you with those honest wide blue eyes. his voice dropped that soft, low, quiet register he uses when it’s just the two of you, “it’s just…i accidentally read a sentence when i picked it up. a-and then i couldn’t stop. the vocabulary in there is…uhm, well it’s a lot different from standard sweet talk.”
he glanced down to his lap for a second as you plopped onto the couch next to him, laying your cheek on his bicep. he looked back to you, curious and shy, “is..is that really what you’re into?” your smirk only widened and you never once take your gaze off him, “yeah, i do, why? you taking notes smallville?”
and just like that, he was blushing even harder, you’d wondered if his face could get any more pink at this point. his fingers reached for your hand, intertwining his thick fingers with yours. a shy, tentative smile tugged at his lips, “well..maybe”, he confessed softly, his voice nervous but sincere, “if it makes you happy honey i’d like to try it, but i might need to practise a little first”, he added on sheepishly.
he wasn’t exaggerating about the practise. clark had slowly and quietly integrated your romance novels into his daily routine. over the last few weeks, he’d devour them when he found the chance, completely fascinated by the plots. you’d catch him leaning against the bathroom counter in the morning, one hand mindlessly brushing his teeth with the other held the book, his eyes glued to the pages. or he’d read them while casually flipping eggs on the stove, his superspeed being the only thing that kept them from burning whenever he got too distracted by a particularly intense chapter. he’d even gone as far to reading them on his lunch breaks at the daily planet, having a quick meal on the breezy rooftop and meticulously analysing how the fictional characters talked to each other, desperately trying to memorise their vocabulary so he could figure out how to use it on you.
even when things got intense, clark was still clark. he was never going to be the kind of guy that used harsh, degrading words or threw around vulgar insults, it just wasn’t in his dna. his parents raised him far too well for that. the guy cant even swear, he doesn’t even say ‘oh my god, instead he opts for ‘great scott!’. instead, his version of dirty talk was something entirely different, born out of that heavy, slow, kansas drawl that oozed with passion and possessiveness. he never needed to swear to make you knees weak or your thighs wet. he did it by being a little less polite, letting his voice drop an octave to that confident hero and groaning how much he loved every single inch of you in your ear.
nsfw below the cut.
the air in the room was thick. clark’s cock was thicker, filling up your insides all the way up to your cervix, you sat on his dick, breathing shakily as you try to focus your gaze on him, you could barely focus, it wasn’t your fault, he always made you feel so good. you place your shaky palms onto his hard plane of abs, using them as leverage to bounce up and down on him, “there you go- oh”, he moaned gently, “oh there you go sweetheart, that’s it, make me feel good baby, you’re so good at this aren’t you? my good girl, knows just how to make me feel so so goooood”, his head tilted back as he gripped your hips, fucking up back into you, pistoning his tip to your g-spot, your sweet moans snd twitching of your warm wet pussy gushed more gooey pre cum of him. lewdly lubing up your insides even further.
your tits bounced over him as you rode him. and god he loved them, he loves all of you but the sight of you when you ride him is just too much, no literally it was too much. he was about to blow his load any second, that sweet hot knot in his tummy close to snapping. he whimpered, pulling your hips down to stop you, huffing shakily, “ngh- o-oh g-gosh..stay right there- stay right there for me- ah, don’t move”, you whined trying to squirm your hips for some friction, reaching down your rub your clit, “clark! ungh- no! ugh cmon! i-i was close!”, you complain rightfully so. clark had wanted to give you everything you needed. to just fuck up into your tight cunt and not even care if he sprayed your insides with his sticky cum, he’d even overstimulate himself and keep bucking up till you orgasmed sweetly on him. but he couldn’t. because he was in charge remember? he wanted to talk to you just how you’d ask him to.
“i said stay right there”, he murmured, deeper and more commanding, forcing your hips still with a new profound grip, “you’re gonna listen to me and sit there till i let you move, mkay honey?”, you nodded but it seemed like thay wasn’t enough, he patted your thigh firmly, coaxing the words out of you, “nuhuh baby, that won’t do, gotta hear your say it, cmon sugar.”
finally when he’d let you move, confident he wouldn’t cum prematurely(happens alot more than he likes it admit), he still whines out lewd praises, rambling and lost in sweet pleasure, “oh! oh- so close darling, you’re close too aren’t you? yeahh my good girl-“, he emphasised, lifting your hips up to pound into you from beneath, positioning his feet flat on the bed to pull himself out halfway only to slam back in again. “ahh- my sweet girl, i’m gonna fill you up a-ah, gonna knock you- ngh- pump you full, you’d like that right? i know you would, your body speaks to me, sweet thing”
The movie hums on, unwatched, a blur of colour and laugh tracks you both ignore. You're curled into Jason's side on the couch, his arm draped around your shoulders, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your skin. His breathing is steady, his body almost unnervingly warm.
You shift, pressing yourself closer, your thigh sliding between his. He tenses for half a second, then tries to force himself to relax, but you feel the subtle hitch in his breath.
"Jay," you murmur. It comes out softer than you intended.
He swallows. "Yeah?"
You hum as you tilt your head and press your lips to the corner of his jaw, slow and deliberate. He shudders, his hand tightening on your shoulder, and when you pull back, his eyes are already darker—glossier, half-lidded with desperate want.
"You sure?" he asks, voice low. "We don't have to—"
You kiss him quiet.
His mouth parts against yours, a shaky exhale escaping him, and when your tongue meets his he groans like it hurts. Your nails scratch lightly against his pale skin, breath shuddering as he gives in, letting out a quiet whimper.
"Fuuck—my god—jesus, fuck—" He doesn't manage to get the next word out. His head tilts back as he keeps going, hips rolling in an uneven, desperate rhythm with the flushed tip of his cock twitching against the friction of cotton and denim. His skin is red hot and ever so slightly tear-stained, his eyes glossy and lost in the pleasure he's grinding out of this moment. He's so darling like this, letting out quiet, shaky whimpers with every grind.
"Sweetheart, wait—hold on— gonna—" Despite his words, he can't stop himself from continuing to rut his hips into yours. He keeps going, shuddering through his orgasm, his body tensing before slowly going slack under you. His pants grow damp with spurts of hot cum, coating the fabric with his release.
You stare at him, your own arousal still hot. "Did you just...?" you ask, and your voice sounds thick even to your own ears. He looks up at you, eyes fucked-out and lashes clumping together with tears.
He's panting softly, eyes glazed over as he answers, "I'm sorry, I—"
You cut him off with a soft kiss. "Don't be," you whisper, fighting the smirk threatening to form on your lips.
a/n: first time doing non-academic writing in months I lowk forgot how to do this
1k follower event || masterlist || based on this request
The emergency room of the Hall of Justice was quiet at 2:14am, the kind of hush that only happened on slow Monday nights.
You were finishing paperwork at your station when the doors slid open and in walked Wally West - speedster, hero, and apparently your most frequent patient.
He was limping dramatically, one hand pressed to his side, freckled face twisted in exaggerated pain. His red hair was messier than usual, and he was wearing civilian clothes instead of the Flash suit, which meant this wasn’t a real emergency.
You raised an eyebrow, already fighting a smile. “Mr. West. Back so soon?”
He hobbled over to the exam bed and sat down with a theatrical groan. “Doc, you gotta help me. I think I pulled something. Running too fast. Hero stuff. You know how it is.”
You grabbed your clipboard and stepped into the room, closing the curtain behind you. The only other nurses had long since learned to give you space when Wally showed up - he was a terrible liar, but a very charming one.
“Uh-huh,” you said, clicking your pen. “And which side is it this time? Left? Right? Or is it the mysterious ‘everywhere’ pain again?”
He grinned, sheepish. “Everywhere. Definitely everywhere. I might need a full exam.”
You tried to look stern, but your lips were twitching. “Wally, you’re not even subtle anymore.”
He leaned back on the bed, green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, doc. I’m a very injured man. I need your professional hands on me.”
You stepped between his knees, setting the clipboard down. “Professional hands, huh?”
“Very professional,” he said, voice dropping. “Maybe even… thorough.”
The air between you shifted, warm and charged. You’d been playing this game for weeks now — Wally showing up with increasingly ridiculous “injuries,” you pretending to believe him just long enough to patch him up and steal a few kisses in the exam room.
But tonight felt different. The hospital was dead quiet. No other patients. No nosy nurses. Just you, him, and the soft beep of monitors in the background.
You rested your hands on his thighs, leaning in close. “Tell me where it hurts, Mr. West.”
He swallowed, eyes darkening. “Everywhere. But mostly… here.” He took your hand and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. It was racing. “Feels like it’s gonna explode whenever I see you.”
You smiled, sliding your hand slowly down his torso. “That sounds serious. I should do a full check-up.”
Wally’s breath hitched as your fingers reached the hem of his shirt. You pushed it up, exposing his toned stomach, and pressed your palm flat against his skin. His muscles jumped under your touch.
“Pulse is elevated,” you murmured, pretending to be professional. “Breathing’s fast too. Any other symptoms?”
He groaned softly. “Yeah. Can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t sleep. Keep showing up here like an idiot because I need to see you.”
You leaned down, brushing your lips against his collarbone. “Sounds like a chronic condition.”
“Terminal,” he agreed, voice rough. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “Only cure is you.”
You kissed him then — slow and deep, tasting the faint sweetness of the energy drink he’d probably chugged before coming here. Wally melted instantly, hands sliding under your scrub top to trace warm paths along your back. He was always so gentle with you, even when he was desperate.
You broke the kiss just enough to whisper against his lips, “Lie back, patient. Doctor’s orders.”
He obeyed immediately, eyes locked on yours as you climbed onto the exam bed, straddling his hips. The paper sheet crinkled under you. Wally’s hands settled on your thighs, thumbs stroking the fabric of your scrubs.
“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” he murmured, but he was grinning.
“You like trouble,” you replied, leaning down to kiss him again.
This time the kiss was hungrier. His hands roamed higher, slipping under your top to cup your breasts through your bra. You gasped into his mouth as he thumbed your nipples, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide how sensitive you were.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he whispered, sitting up slightly to pull your top off. He tossed it aside, then unclasped your bra with practiced ease. His mouth found your breast immediately, sucking gently, tongue swirling around the peak while his hand palmed the other.
You moaned softly, grinding down against the growing bulge in his jeans. Wally groaned, hips bucking up to meet you.
“Careful, doc,” he rasped. “You keep doing that and this exam’s gonna get very unprofessional.”
“Good,” you breathed, reaching down to palm him through his jeans. He was rock hard. “I think you patient needs urgent care.”
He laughed breathlessly, flipping you onto your back with careful speed. The paper sheet crinkled loudly as he settled between your thighs, kissing down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your scrubs.
“Can I?” he asked, eyes dark but still checking.
You nodded, lifting your hips. He peeled your scrubs and panties down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside. Then he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, spreading your thighs wider. He leaned in and licked a slow stripe up your center, groaning at the taste of you. “So wet already. All this for me?”
“Yes—” The word broke into a moan as he sucked gently on your clit, two fingers sliding inside you and curling just right. He worked you with devastating patience — long, slow licks mixed with quick flicks of his tongue, fingers thrusting steadily.
You gripped his hair, hips rocking against his face. “Wally— fuck— just like that—”
He hummed against you, the vibration making your thighs shake. “Taste so good, baby. Could stay down here all night.”
You came with a soft cry, back arching off the exam table. Wally worked you through it, gentling his tongue until you were trembling and oversensitive. Then he kissed his way back up your body, lips shiny, eyes glowing with satisfaction.
He rolled on a condom with quick hands, then settled between your thighs again. “Still okay?” he asked, nudging at your entrance.
You wrapped your legs around his waist. “More than okay. Need you inside me.”
Wally groaned and pressed in slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully seated. He stilled, forehead against yours, breathing ragged.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he whispered. “So warm. So tight. I love you. So much.”
Then he started moving — deep, steady thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot. One hand braced beside your head, the other stroked your side, your breast, your cheek, like he couldn’t stop touching you.
“Look at me,” he murmured. “Want to see you when you cum around me.”
You did, eyes locked on his as the pleasure built again. His pace stayed deep and rhythmic, grinding against you on every thrust, one hand slipping between you to circle your clit with gentle pressure.
You came with a moan of his name, walls clenching around him. Wally followed right after, burying himself deep with a low, broken groan, hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom.
He stayed inside you for a long moment, holding himself up so he didn’t crush you, pressing soft kisses to your face.
When he finally pulled out and disposed of the condom, he came right back, pulling you into his arms on the narrow exam bed. You curled against his chest, head over his heart, legs tangled with his.
“You okay?” he asked softly, stroking your back.
“Perfect,” you whispered, nuzzling closer. “That was… exactly what I needed.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and content. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done with you tonight.” His hand slid down to rest on your hip, thumb stroking lazy circles. “But first… rest. I’ve got you.”
You smiled, safe in his arms, the sterile exam room feeling strangely like home.
Wally West might be the fastest man alive.
But with you, he was perfectly happy to slow down.
-> fem! reader, unprotected sex + creampie, jealousy
One thing to know before dating Wally is that he’s possessive. You’re his, and only his, and he’ll make sure you know it.
He plays it off casually in front of friends but it’s not long before he’s dragging you away for a quickie, pulling down your pants or lifting up your skirt and fucking you against the wall.
“Fuck, baby,” he’ll groan in your ear, a finger rubbing your clit, “whose pussy is this?”
You fight through the shaking in your voice and the ache in your pussy to mumble out a pathetic, “yours, Wally.”
But the best part for Wally comes after that. It comes when he slams his hips flush against yours and buries his face in your neck, stuttering as he cums deep inside of you. He’ll hold you tight until he’s drained every last drop inside of you, biting at your neck.
He pulls out after, quickly tugging up your panties before any of his cum leaks out. You turn to face him, Wally pulling you in for a deep kiss.
“There,” he pats your pussy gently, a sheepish smile on his face. “All mine.”
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful week /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
WALLY WEST’s two fingers have been circling your poor swollen, abused clit at a low vibration for what feels like eternity. you don’t remember how many times you’ve came so far, just that your boyfriend seems to get off on seeing you writhe and squirm.
“aw baby, c’mon, just one more f’me, yeah?” he coos earnest and sweet. he’s drunk on the soft, lovely whimpers falling out of your lips.
he just loves making you feel good, can you blame him?
wally west who’d never used his superpowers in bed with anyone else.
it’s not that he hadn’t had sex before you, but it was the first time he was doing it with someone who knew about his secret identity, about his superspeed.
he’s working you up with his hand, fingers pressing on your clit when he goes “can i try something?” and once you show your agreement, he starts picking up the pace until he’s vibrating against you.
it takes you by surprise, even if he asked you first, the sensation like nothing you’ve felt before, similar to the feeling of using a vibrator, but with the added intimacy of having him doing it and the expertise in his movements, knowing exactly how to press against the little bundle of nerves to make you feel good.
it only lasts a few seconds when he suddenly stops, it’s enough to have you squirming under him and whining for more before he’s moving between your legs. he had fantasised about going down on you, but with his newly found skills it’s suddenly become a lot more exciting for both of you. he starts slow, kitten licks to your clit before he’s sealing his lips around it, rapidly sucking in and out, and the already mind numbing sensation only intensifies once his tongue starts vibrating against you.
he’s got you seeing stars and you already know that he’s forever ruined sex for you from eating you out alone because nothing could ever compare to this experience, and only wally west can give it to you.
he needs to have you coming at least once before getting to the real thing, and it’s not any better once he does. he’s fucking you out of your mind, you’re going crazy over the way his hips slap against yours, getting to a speed you’re sure no regular guy could reach once he starts getting desperate for more friction, and is his cock vibrating too?
he’s still not done once you’ve both come, he’ll go for several rounds, all thanks to the enhanced stamina his connection to the speedforce granted him. you’re on your sixth orgasm, begging him to at least let you rest for a few minutes, but his dick is still hard and he’s eager to keep going. you offer to suck him off, but he’s too set on making you feel good, getting off on your own pleasure and trying out his new abilities with you.
it was supposed to be a one time thing, but once you’re done you both know that you won’t experience something as good as what you did today again unless it’s with each other.
wally west being too shy to send you any pics when you first start dating, so instead he waits until it’s three in the morning—a reasonable time for you to be asleep already—so that he can forget about it until the next day, when you'd wake up with a "wish u were here :(" text and beautiful video of your boyfriend fisting himself to you and send your response afterwards.
he doesn't expect you to actually still be awake and for said response to arrive only two minutes after his video was sent, but the embarrassment doesn't last him too long, your positive feedback leaving him eager for more and his dick harder in his hand, even worse once the notification of a pic of your own arrives too.
with the knowledge that you're still awake and missing him just as much, both of you unable to sleep and now turned on by the conversation, he's immediately speeding off to your place, so that he can fuck to exhaustion and you can both tend to your needs, to finally find sleep in his warm embrace after those sleepless hours.
you’d been so careful—teeth sunk into your lip, thighs clamped tight around the low buzz of your vibrator, trying not to disturb the man snoring softly beside you. the tension had been coiling so perfectly, right on the edge, when the toy gave one pathetic sputter and died.
you’d forgotten to charge it. after all, wally had been taking great care of you lately, so you didn’t needed it.
you’d lain there for five frustrating minutes, aching and unfinished, pussy still throbbing. sleep was practically impossible in this state. eventually you rolled over, cheeks burning, and gently nudged wally’s shoulder.
“walls… babe,” you whispered, voice shaky. “wake up. please?”
he stirred instantly, green eyes blinking open, messy red hair sticking up everywhere. “hmm? you okay? rogue alert? kitchen on fire?” he slurred, already halfway sitting up.
you shook your head, mortified and still desperately needy. “no, nothing like that. my uh… my vibrator died… right when i was about to … y’know. i tried to just fall back asleep but i couldn’t. can you help? with your fingers? you can move them really fast and… it feels like vibration.”
wally’s sleepy confusion melted into a slow, wicked grin that lit up his whole face. “ohhh. so my girl was secretly getting herself off next to me and didn’t invite me to the party? rude.” he rolled onto his side, propping his head on one hand. “but fine. i’ll help. though i gotta say… choosing your toy over me? i’m a little offended.”
you let out a shy laugh, face heating even more. “i just felt bad… you were sleeping so peacefully.”
“peacefully? i can sleep later,” he scoffed playfully. in a blur he had you on your back, legs spread wide, his warm body settled between them. two of his fingers—already vibrating with precise super-speed—teased up your soaked folds, making you jolt. he knew how you liked it. “baby, you’re soaked,” he laughed softly. “poor thing. left you all edged and desperate. don’t worry, i’ve got you. and i’m about to show you how much better i am than that stupid toy.”
he pushed those two fingers gently inside you, curling them perfectly while the rapid vibration hummed deep against your walls. the sensation hit instantly. your back arched with a gasp that made the corner of his lips twitch in smirk.
“can your vibrator do this, huh?” wally teased, all playful and cocky as he pumped his fingers faster, the speed making them blur. “bet it can’t hit that spot quite like i can. or change tempo on the fly.” he demonstrated by shifting the vibration pattern—slow and deep, then suddenly rapid and relentless—while his thumb found your clit and started buzzing in tight circles. “yeah? feel that? tell me, babe, has that sad little toy ever made you shake like this?”
“n-no, walls…” you whimpered, hips twitching uncontrollably under his influence, one hand fisting the sheets and the other gripping his hair. wally leaned down, kissing your stomach and grinning against your skin. “that’s what i thought. inferior technology. my fingers are warmer, faster, and they come with commentary. can your toy do this?” he added a third finger, curling all three while ramping up the speed until the vibration felt almost punishing in the best way.
“wally—fuck—” you moaned, thighs clamping around his wrist.
“exactly,” he laughed, delighted. “say my name louder so that dead vibrator can hear how outclassed it is. i’m the upgraded model, baby. unlimited stamina, precision tuning, and i actually care if you cum your brains out.”
the combination of his speed, the perfect angle, and his teasing pushed you over the edge embarrassingly fast. the orgasm slammed into you hard—shaking, overwhelming, and far better than anything the toy could’ve delivered. you cried out, back bowing off the bed as your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers.
wally kept going just long enough to draw it out, then slowed to a gentle stop, easing his fingers free and licking them clean with a satisfied hum. “victory for team speedster,” he declared proudly, crawling up to wrap you in his arms. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, still grinning.
“better?” he asked, nuzzling your hair.
you could only nod weakly, boneless and glowing.
“anytime,” he murmured, voice warm and full of affection. “and i mean anytime. no more suffering in silence next to me. i’m faster than that dumb toy. and way more fun.”
