“can you see everything clearly, or should i have satoru fix himself?” there’s a ghost of a smile on geto’s lips as he sits on the edge of your shared bed, amethyst eyes glinting beneath the warm lamplight.
“yeah,” exhaling you shift on the leather chair positioned towards the bed “i—i can see.” you murmur softly, gaze flickering over your boyfriends bare shoulder to the man behind him.
gojo’s quiet, just like he was told to be. blue eyes shifting back and forth between his best friend and you, waiting. you’d find his lack of talking amusing any other day but not now. not when he’s naked on your bed and waiting so patiently for some sort of direction.
you’re trying your absolute best not to stare at him, to be as respectful as humanly possible although it’s harder than you would have thought. gojo was nothing short of ethereal, ten’s across the board and his cock wasn’t spared of that glory. from the accidental glance you had gotten the image seared itself into your mind like a brand.
he was thick with a slight upward curve from the base, the tip a rosy shade of pink that matched the plushness of his lips perfectly. neatly trimmed tufts of white hair framing the base and a faint vein running up the length of him.
a soft clearing of someones throat breaks you from your thoughts, thighs squishing together subtly to ease the faint ache as you meet geto’s gaze once more.
“you ready baby? or do you need a second to compose yourself?” the amused tone that swallows geto’s words makes you flush even deeper and you want to say something to defend yourself but instead you settle on a nod.
“i’m ready.” you mumble and that’s all he needs to hear before he’s moving onto the bed. your eyes following his form as he settles right beside gojo, broad shoulders knocking softly into the latters as he gets comfortable.
“alright,” geto offers you a reassuring look “go ahead sweetheart. we’re all yours. right, satoru?”
the nod from the white haired man comes almost immediately “yeah.”
rubbing your lips together you straighten your back before speaking again.
“t-touch yourself..please.” a small wince passes your face at how awkwardly choked up you sound. the embarrassment only growing when your boyfriend grins lopsidedly and stretches an arm behind his head.
“who?” suguru muses, his voice honeyed and low. bastard.
swallowing your eyes meet darkened blues, “satoru.” you answer.
there’s a small second of silence, a gentle flexing of fingers against the sheets before the man’s hand moves. slender fingers trailing down his abdomen, over the small trail of hair beneath his belly button until they wrap loosely around his cock.
“like this?” gojo breathes, rough and low. his thumb rubbing slow circles around the tip of his cock, teasing the slit and smearing precum around lazily.
you give a small nod before speaking again “can you..squeeze it?”
no words but his fingers tighten around the tip, pearls of precum coming to head before sliding down and smearing against his skin. it’s undeniably hot watching him touch himself—even more since he’s listening to you. suguru watching gojo’s hand with what could only be described as interest, his own fingers tapping lightly against the bed.
“you can touch yourself too sugu.” you utter softly before gently biting your lip, your eyes flitting his crotch. his cock was straining against the fabric of his boxers in a way you knew was definitely nowhere near comfortable.
“thank you, baby.” suguru flashes you a smile before easing his boxers down enough and kicking them off. a low groan of relief rumbling from his chest as his hand grips the middle of his cock. he’s more firm with himself than gojo was, more in control of the situation despite the fact you were bossing them around.
“is this good enough for you?” suguru questions between heavy breaths, moving his leg over his friend’s knee to give you a good view as he jerks his cock.
you brows furrow, core clenching tighter “can i ask for anything?” the question alone amuses your boyfriend but he nods, glancing at his friend briefly.
“sure, baby, ask away.” the ebony haired man murmurs encouragingly, hand not slowing around his cock.
“i want to watch you both to touch each other.” you utter quietly, tongue gently wetting the seam of your lips. it wasn’t a hard thought to conjure. whether the greediness in your mind or cunt conjured it you knew that’s what you wanted to see.
“okay,” your boyfriend nods before a soft click of tongue follows “but you gotta even the grounds for us baby.”
his words spark confusion, your brows furrowing slightly and it only makes the man chuckle softly at your cuteness.
“satoru has kindly agreed to this and y’know i have no problem trying things out for you. but do you think it’s fair we’re completely naked, at your mercy and you’re still clothed? cause i don’t think it’s fair at all, do you satoru?” geto’s lips curve at the corners and he glances at his friend with faux curiosity.
“no, it’s definitely not.” gojo drawls out, heavy gaze sweeping over your form slowly and you’d like to think you imagined his cock twitch at the mere thought of you being naked. (you didn’t)
you squirm, think for a moment and then speak up “okay.”
a glimmer of satisfaction sparkles in suguru’s eyes, pearly whites sinking into his bottom lip as you shyly begin to peel your pajamas off. both men watch intensely as you carefully toss piece by piece off until your bare ‘cept for the fluffy green socks to keep your feet warm.
your nipples harden even more under their heavy gazes, the aching between your legs only growing as you sit back down on the chair with as much nonchalance as you can muster.
“alright,” nudging the mans thigh geto shifts onto his knees on the bed “on your back.”
biting your inner cheek you watch as gojo rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath but obliges anyway. his legs spread, giving suguru enough space between them.
pushing gojo’s legs open a little more so you could get the best view possible suguru wasted no time wrapping his large hand around both of their cocks, something akin of a whine leaving the white haired man beneath him.
“loosen up.” gojo hisses, squinting up at the man who only grins wider. the rough pad of his thumb circling firmly over the leaky tip of gojo’s cock “relax satoru.”
“..” gritting his teeth gojo swallows down his response, glancing at you with a lifted a brow. he had thought suguru was bluffing when he said you had a thing for him, and you’d probably be down for something akin to a threesome. yet here you were, squirming on a chair—the wet glint of your cunt unmistakable. he wondered if you tasted as good as he figured you did, curious to know all the little sounds you made when you felt good.
did you cry? were you the type to beg for more even when it barely fit? god, were you a squirter?
“don’t be a pervert.” geto muses, warm breath tickling the tip of gojo’s red ears.
tearing his gaze away from you gojo scoffs, “shut up.”
shrugging geto tightens his grip, hips rocking slowly.
“have you both done this before?” you can’t help the question from leaving your mouth. it wasn’t an accusation, more so curiosity. the way geto is handling gojo seems as though it’s familiar—it’s like how he touches you. like he knows you inside and out.
“once or twice.” gojo is the one who answers, his voice all sorts of uneven.
“a few times.” geto corrects and you smile a little in amusement.
“i see.” you murmur, gaze flitting to their cocks. suguru was still moving at a slow, drawn out pace but you could see the way gojo was slightly bucking into his hand like he was holding himself back.
“y/n, c’mere.” suguru croons, withdrawing his hand much to gojo’s displeasure.
your eyes move from their cocks to your boyfriends face who only offers a smile and a small head jerk in their direction. swallowing you slide off the chair, padding close to the bed until you can smell gojo’s heady cologne and the fresh scent of suguru’s shampoo like a waft.
“why don’t you sit on his face.” sliding the ponytail off his wrist suguru ties his hair back, amethyst eyes trained on your face.
“on..his face?” you glance at gojo who shrugs and props his arms behind his head.
“mhm. only if you want. i can’t guarantee he’d eat you out as good as i—" a sharp jab to his ribs makes suguru laugh although the man under him doesn’t share the same humor.
but they wait, letting you stew in the question without pressure.
“is that..okay with you toru?” you ask and the way you say his name is so syrupy and sweet gojo wants to scream, cock weeping.
gathering himself the man nods “yeah, that’s fine with me. just don’t get surprised when you don’t miss sugu between your legs when i’m done with you.”
probs gonna delete later—just wanted to show i’m alive lol. in all seriousness tho i’m gonna try and get active again:D!! i just wasn’t feeling my writing blah. also— my first jjk bit and it’s a drabble lmao.
as always, please feel free to request. i’m hoping that requests can help me out my writing rut even more and get juices flowing.
“can you see everything clearly, or should i have satoru fix himself?” there’s a ghost of a smile on geto’s lips as he sits on the edge of your shared bed, amethyst eyes glinting beneath the warm lamplight.
“yeah,” exhaling you shift on the leather chair positioned towards the bed “i—i can see.” you murmur softly, gaze flickering over your boyfriends bare shoulder to the man behind him.
gojo’s quiet, just like he was told to be. blue eyes shifting back and forth between his best friend and you, waiting. you’d find his lack of talking amusing any other day but not now. not when he’s naked on your bed and waiting so patiently for some sort of direction.
you’re trying your absolute best not to stare at him, to be as respectful as humanly possible although it’s harder than you would have thought. gojo was nothing short of ethereal, ten’s across the board and his cock wasn’t spared of that glory. from the accidental glance you had gotten the image seared itself into your mind like a brand.
he was thick with a slight upward curve from the base, the tip a rosy shade of pink that matched the plushness of his lips perfectly. neatly trimmed tufts of white hair framing the base and a faint vein running up the length of him.
a soft clearing of someones throat breaks you from your thoughts, thighs squishing together subtly to ease the faint ache as you meet geto’s gaze once more.
“you ready baby? or do you need a second to compose yourself?” the amused tone that swallows geto’s words makes you flush even deeper and you want to say something to defend yourself but instead you settle on a nod.
“i’m ready.” you mumble and that’s all he needs to hear before he’s moving onto the bed. your eyes following his form as he settles right beside gojo, broad shoulders knocking softly into the latters as he gets comfortable.
“alright,” geto offers you a reassuring look “go ahead sweetheart. we’re all yours. right, satoru?”
the nod from the white haired man comes almost immediately “yeah.”
rubbing your lips together you straighten your back before speaking again.
“t-touch yourself..please.” a small wince passes your face at how awkwardly choked up you sound. the embarrassment only growing when your boyfriend grins lopsidedly and stretches an arm behind his head.
“who?” suguru muses, his voice honeyed and low. bastard.
swallowing your eyes meet darkened blues, “satoru.” you answer.
there’s a small second of silence, a gentle flexing of fingers against the sheets before the man’s hand moves. slender fingers trailing down his abdomen, over the small trail of hair beneath his belly button until they wrap loosely around his cock.
“like this?” gojo breathes, rough and low. his thumb rubbing slow circles around the tip of his cock, teasing the slit and smearing precum around lazily.
you give a small nod before speaking again “can you..squeeze it?”
no words but his fingers tighten around the tip, pearls of precum coming to head before sliding down and smearing against his skin. it’s undeniably hot watching him touch himself—even more since he’s listening to you. suguru watching gojo’s hand with what could only be described as interest, his own fingers tapping lightly against the bed.
“you can touch yourself too sugu.” you utter softly before gently biting your lip, your eyes flitting his crotch. his cock was straining against the fabric of his boxers in a way you knew was definitely nowhere near comfortable.
“thank you, baby.” suguru flashes you a smile before easing his boxers down enough and kicking them off. a low groan of relief rumbling from his chest as his hand grips the middle of his cock. he’s more firm with himself than gojo was, more in control of the situation despite the fact you were bossing them around.
“is this good enough for you?” suguru questions between heavy breaths, moving his leg over his friend’s knee to give you a good view as he jerks his cock.
you brows furrow, core clenching tighter “can i ask for anything?” the question alone amuses your boyfriend but he nods, glancing at his friend briefly.
“sure baby, ask away.” the ebony haired man murmurs encouragingly, hand not slowing around his cock.
“i want to watch you both to touch each other.” you utter quietly, tongue gently wetting the seam of your lips. it wasn’t a hard thought to conjure. whether the greediness in your mind or cunt conjured it you knew that’s what you wanted to see.
“okay,” your boyfriend nods before a soft click of tongue follows “but you gotta even the grounds for us baby.”
his words spark confusion, your brows furrowing slightly and it only makes the man chuckle softly at your cuteness.
“satoru has kindly agreed to this and y’know i have no problem trying things out for you. but do you think it’s fair we’re completely naked, at your mercy and you’re still clothed? cause i don’t think it’s fair at all, do you satoru?” geto’s lips curve at the corners and he glances at his friend with faux curiosity.
“no, it’s definitely not.” gojo drawls out, heavy gaze sweeping over your form slowly and you’d like to think you imagined his cock twitch at the mere thought of you being naked. (you didn’t)
you squirm, think for a moment and then speak up “okay.”
a glimmer of satisfaction sparkles in suguru’s eyes, pearly whites sinking into his bottom lip as you shyly begin to peel your pajamas off. both men watch intensely as you carefully toss piece by piece off until your bare ‘cept for the fluffy green socks to keep your feet warm.
your nipples harden even more under their heavy gazes, the aching between your legs only growing as you sit back down on the chair with as much nonchalance as you can muster.
“alright,” nudging the mans thigh geto shifts onto his knees on the bed “on your back.”
biting your inner cheek you watch as gojo rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath but obliges anyway. his legs spread, giving suguru enough space between them.
pushing gojo’s legs open a little more so you could get the best view possible suguru wasted no time wrapping his large hand around both of their cocks, something akin of a whine leaving the white haired man beneath him.
“loosen up.” gojo hisses, squinting up at the man who only grins wider. the rough pad of his thumb circling firmly over the leaky tip of gojo’s cock “relax satoru.”
“..” gritting his teeth gojo swallows down his response, glancing at you with a lifted a brow. he had thought suguru was bluffing when he said you had a thing for him, and you’d probably be down for something akin to a threesome. yet here you were, squirming on a chair—the wet glint of your cunt unmistakable. he wondered if you tasted as good as he figured you did, curious to know all the little sounds you made when you felt good.
did you cry? were you the type to beg for more even when it barely fit? god, were you a squirter?
“don’t be a pervert.” geto muses, warm breath tickling the tip of the mans red ear.
tearing his gaze away from you gojo scoffs, “shut up.”
shrugging geto tightens his grip, hips rocking slowly.
“have you both done this before?” you can’t help the question from leaving your mouth. it wasn’t an accusation, more so curiosity. the way geto is handling gojo seems as though it’s familiar—it’s like how he touches you. like he knows you inside and out.
“once or twice.” gojo is the one who answers, his voice all sorts of uneven.
“a few times.” geto corrects and you smile a little in amusement.
“i see.” you murmur, gaze flitting to their cocks. suguru was still moving at a slow, drawn out pace but you could see the way gojo was slightly bucking into his hand like he was holding himself back.
“y/n, c’mere.” suguru croons, withdrawing his hand much to gojo’s displeasure.
your eyes move from their cocks to your boyfriends face who only offers a smile and a small head jerk in their direction. swallowing you slide off the chair, padding close to the bed until you can smell gojo’s heady cologne and the fresh scent of suguru’s shampoo like a waft.
“why don’t you sit on his face.” sliding the ponytail off his wrist suguru ties his hair back, amethyst eyes trained on your face.
“on..his face?” you glance at gojo who shrugs and props his arms behind his head.
“mhm. only if you want. i can’t guarantee he’d eat you out as good as i—" a sharp jab to his ribs makes suguru laugh although the man under him doesn’t share the same humor.
but they wait, letting you stew in the question without pressure.
“is that..okay with you toru?” you ask and the way you say his name is so syrupy and sweet gojo wants to scream, cock weeping.
gathering himself the man nods “yeah, that’s fine with me. just don’t get surprised when you don’t miss sugu between your legs when i’m done with you.”
probs gonna delete later—just wanted to show i’m alive lol. in all seriousness tho i’m gonna try and get active again:D!! i just wasn’t feeling my writing blah. also— my first jjk bit and it’s a drabble lmao.
as always, please feel free to request. i’m hoping that requests can help me out my writing rut even more and get juices flowing.
heeeey! What would after care look like with Peter???
⌞ aftercare with peter ⌝
⋮ mdni.!
aftercare with peter is slow. nothing but words of praise and gentle encouragement murmur leaving him as you both come down from your highs. the second you’re calm he’s slowly untangling himself from you, giving you a tender kiss on the forehead and uttering a soft “i’ll be right back”.
he’s out of the room for less than a minute before he comes back with a cold bottle of water in hand, handing it to you with a tiny hum.
“drink.” his tone is firm but still kind and you drink the water with no problem, feeling a little better after. once he’s figured you’ve have more than enough time to relax he’ll suggest running a bath. something you don’t really turn down cause a nice warm bath sounds absolutely amazing, so you nod your head and watch him leave again to start you one.
you don’t have to say another word because when he returns he’s scooping you up wordlessly and carrying you to the bathroom, kissing your temple as you reach the bathroom.
“here,” placing you down on the fluffy blue-green rug peter smiles “pee first—don’t need a uti or something.”
you can’t help but snort yet you listen anyway.
“okay, look away first.” your words receive a small eye roll but he obliges without a complaint. his bare back facing you, creamy skin littered in scratches that you’d feel bad about later. (he always said he liked them though.)
the second you finish and wash your hands he’s turning around, watching you closely as you move to climb into the tub. it’s a oval shaped tub that barely fits you—let alone you and peter but you can’t exactly stop the man when he’s already sliding in behind you. pulling your body against his and holding you close, the fit not as uncomfortable as it could be.
“you need a bigger tub.” his words are muffled against your neck, lips meshing against the damp flesh slowly.
“buy me one then.”
a soft chuckle leaves him before he squeezes you lightly “one day.”
the bath itself is drawn out—both of you simply basking in each others presence until you’re fingers wrinkle. standing with reluctance to take a quick shower and actually bathe cause you weren’t certain you could handle sitting around for much longer before you couldn’t feel your ass.
“put this one on.” peter doesn’t say anything more. just gently pushes the oversized hockey tee into your arms once you’ve gotten a fresh pair of panties on. it’s his favorite tee so when you ask why he only shrugs, tugging a pair of boxers on.
“it’s more comfortable than that thing you’re trying to put on.” that “thing” being a old hand me down hoodie that was more than comfortable but you slip it over your head anyway. it practically devours your form and peter has to stop himself from physically cooing at how damn cute you look, instead forcing himself to focus on changing the bedsheets and pillows. and before you know it there’s a pile of bedding on your floor that he swears he’ll pick up and wash tomorrow (he wont) and a clean, partly made bed waiting for you to get in.
he also took the liberty of making sure your phone was plugged in, he knew the first thing you’d do when you woke up would be to check it and he even set your allergy meds on the bedside table.
“c’mon.”
there’s barely an inch of space the second you get in the bed, peter already grabbing at you and pulling you into his arms before you can even attempt to get comfortable in your own spot.
“you comfy..?”
your face is mashed into his chest, leg tossed over his hip and not a single inch of breathing room between you. certainly comfortable.
“ahuh..”
peter hums “good. me too.”
you’d laugh if you could—but you didn’t think you could with the lack of space so instead you give a light huff.
silence settles quickly. just your soft breathing and the light whir of the ac unit filling the space. it’s good. peters fingers scratching lightly over your scalp, lulling you to sleep gradually as the minutes past. you’d probably repay him in the morning with breakfast— maybe even attempt an authentic bacon, egg and cheese (maybe).
but for now you wanted to sleep.
⟢ i don’t like this too much but my brain is so fried rn from my college work im sorry ugh
clark has no problems taking care of his stressed wife.
⋮mdni, oral (fem rec.), p in v, kissing, creampie(?) clark is soft and sweet, yap sesh tbh, not much plot if any
☆ 4.49k wc , not proofread cus im lazy (sorry)
there’s a grimace that passes your face when your daughter up’s the octave of her singing along to mrs. rachel, a dull throbbing in your temple that seemed to be one of the few constants in your life.
“baby—inside voice please.” cracking your eyes open you give the girl a gentle smile despite the way you feel, watching her nod a tiny bit before continuing to sing (just a little quieter) and although it doesn’t solve the ache completely it’s still something.
it’s not until she hears a familiar door slam followed by keys jingling does she quiet down, quick to scramble to her feet and shoot out the living room like a little bullet in a purple tutu.
“daddy!”
you can’t even muster the energy to stop her, watching with a little bit of amusement as she disappears through the doorway. returning a few seconds later in your husband’s arms with a big grin on her chubby face as she plays with his glasses.
“were you good for mama?” clarks question is answered in a quick second, your daughter nodding energetically.
“ahuh. we watched tv all day!” you watch as she places clarks glasses on her face, wiggling her brows up and down “and mommy made me pancakes this morning for breakfast!”
gasping dramatically clark places the tiny toddler on her feet, right beside the rug covered in toys “mommy didn’t make me pancakes for breakfast.” tugging his tie some to loosen it clark feigns a pout, sending you a cheeky little wink which you can only roll your eyes at.
“that’s cause..you’re too big.” patting her daddys knee the girl sighed heavily, like she was actually stressed for him “mommy makes pancakes for little kids like me. not big ones like you. maybe you can eat..” trailing off as she tries to think the girl breaks out into giggles “pip’s food!”
“you think daddy should eat cat food? you crazy, silly?” tousling her curls clark snorts, a tad offended she would toss him to the dogs—or rather the cats like that.
shrugging the toddler glances around the living room “where is pip?”
“maybe you should go find him,” smiling a little clark straightens his back “ask him if daddy can have some of his food since i’m too big for pancakes.”
nodding quickly your child wastes no time skipping off to look for the cat, leaving you and clark alone in the living room. it’s nice for a moment—until that heavy throbbing returns.
noticing the slight strained look on your face clark tilts his head, walking over to you and squatting between your legs “you alright sweetheart?”
not wanting him to worry you force a nod, lips curling in what could only be described as a painful smile “yeah, just a headache.”
“and i’m batman.” he quips, gently brushing a hand over your cheek “why don’t you lay down for a bit? get some rest.”
“i’m fine. you just got off work—”
“go.” there’s a familiar firmness to his tone that makes you grunt. it’s that serious voice he uses on bad guys or your daughter on the slim occasion she needed a bit of behavioral correction.
“fine.” you’re reluctant but you know better than to argue. clark had a tendency of getting his way.
your husband hides his triumphant grin quickly, helping you to your feet like a gentleman. his hands naturally rubbing over the curve of your ass once you’re up. the simple touch enough to make your breath falter and your thighs press together subconsciously.
it was embarrassing how quick you could feel yourself growing hot from the inside just from an innocent rub but it wasn’t completely your fault.
sex wasn’t exactly common these days as it had been before you both became parents. it felt more so like a special occasion—something you two could have at just the right time although you hadn’t gotten much of anything in the last few months. clark was being swallowed in work and not to mention the whole ‘i’m superman and i save the world’ thing.
and when you both thought that maybe, just maybe you could at least squeeze in a quickie or anything something rains on the parade. your daughter couldn’t sleep because she heard a noise and swore something was trying to eat her toes.
clark’s working late and by time he gets in you’re passed out on the couch or worst of all—you’re just too tired. mentally and physically drained despite how badly you want him so you rain check and hope you’d get the opportunity another day. spoiler alert you don’t.
life was constantly cock blocking you like some sick joke. dangling the mere idea of being folded in half by your husband right in your face only to snatch it out of reach.
pushing the sudden overwhelming amount of horniness you felt submerged in you clear your throat, gaze fixating back on clark who seems none the wiser to your internal turmoil “wake me if anything happens.?”
the man gives a nod (mostly to ease your worries), followed by a gentle squeeze to your ass in response before nudging you toward the doorway, giving you no choice but to relent and retire to your bedroom in hopes of getting some rest.
you can only wish for some peace of mind as you trudge up the stairs. you didn’t want to wake up disappointed again.
you don’t stir until you feel the bed dip and clarks firm body molds itself behind you like a missing piece. there’s the faint smell of aftershave and his favorite shower gel that invades your senses when he leans in to place a light kiss against your shoulder. it’s enough to make your soul relax, it’s so him. so very home.
“made dinner,” his voice is low, partly blending with the soft whirr of the ceiling fan, “can warm it up for you f’your hungry.”
clark waits a few seconds for a response, one of his hands wandering beneath of oversized shirt you were physically attached to.
“i know you’re awake.” he muses, nosing at the curve of your neck “could hear your heart beat a little faster when i laid down.” he adds, warm hand rubbing slowly over your tummy.
right, superman.
“i’m not real hungry.” that was true. you were hardly ever really these days.
“you sure? i even made those disgusting turkey meatballs you like.” he murmurs, a light attempt to draw you in. ever the mother hen.
“positive.”
that makes clark frown, the super gentle as he turns you to face him.
“what’s going on in that pretty head sweetheart?”
scrunching your nose you avert your eyes briefly before forcing yourself to find his gaze. it was hard to open up sometimes. not because of him—never because of him.
but you had never had it easy when it came to expressing yourself. you were a suck it up and deal with it silently type of person and despite that changing for the better when you met clark sometimes you could still feel that familiar emotional constipation.
“i’m just—i feel like it’s difficult to have even the smallest breather these days. and don’t get me wrong i love being a mother but i just..miss having time to myself sometimes—time with you.”
there’s a small furrow in between the mans brows as he digests in your words. he could see you were exhausted—had for a while and he tried his absolute best to ease that ache as much as he could. but that alone was difficult.
not because he was clark kent, journalist at the daily planet. but because he was superman—the man of steel. even if by some god given miracle he came home early as clark, there was no promise that the life of superman wouldn’t come knocking to fill the void. it was a life he had signed up for. you had signed up for. but it sure as hell didn’t make him feel any less guilty.
“i’m sorry.” first is his apology, genuine and so apologetic.
“don’t be.” there’s a small headshake from you, your eyes meeting his “it’s normal.”
“pft,” clark can’t help but scoff dryly “it’s not. not here. we’re a unit sweetheart. i’m supposed to be able to help ease your problems when i can.”
your lips purse and you exhale “there’s something else.”
you don’t have the courage to hold his gaze anymore so instead, you focus on the sliver of silver chain that peeks beneath his shirt, fingers picking at the blankets.
“i—i’m pent up.” you force the words out before you can chicken out, breath bated.
“sexually?” there’s the slightest curve to the corners of his mouth and you know it’s too late to back out.
“ahuh.” your noncommittal response makes him chuckle slightly, the serious atmosphere subsiding just a little.
“you been keeping that a secret?” he asks, his tone warm and faintly teasing.
“hardly. i’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“maybe.” he hums “s’not difficult to smell when you’re excited sweetheart. even if i try not to..” clark trails off, adjusting a little on the mattress. it wasn’t like he purposely tried to be weird or pervy. but he also couldn’t just turn off his senses.
“that’s embarrassing.” you grumble, a small shiver dancing up your spine when he leans closer—nose bumping yours. he’s so goddamn pretty—and so yours. the reminder enough to flare that warmth between your legs once more.
“maybe for you,” clark murmurs softly, thumb rubbing your bottom lip lightly—just barely dipping past the parted flesh “i like knowing how much you want me. m’just a bit disappointed i can’t do better at giving you what you need these days.”
there’s a few ticks of silence, everything that had been said settling slowly between you both.
“let me take care of you tonight.” it’s not a demand or even a request but rather a tender plea. the man knows it won’t fix everything sure. there’s still things you both need to sit down and discuss to help better balance your life and relationship—but that was a later thing. right now he just wanted to tend to you like a good husband should.
and you crumble right there. you wanted that—needed that.
“please,” your fingers curl around the cotton of his shirt and it’s all the confirmation he needs—a familiar glimmer of desire sparking in his blues. the man shifts forward, warm hand settling on the curve of your hip, helping ease you onto your back.
“spread your legs baby.” it’s a low ask, clarks tone rough around the edges like he’s holding himself back and knowing him he probably is. it didn’t normally take a lot for you to get him going—he blamed it on how soft he was for you. the way he loved you fueling his raw hunger.
you give a nod, spreading your legs wide enough for clark to settle between. he’s heavy and hot—nothing but muscle above you but his touch is gentle as he slides his hands beneath your shirt, skirting across your hot skin slowly. the way your breathing deepens as they stop right beneath the curve of your breasts sending a rush of heat to his groin.
“prettiest thing i’ve ever seen,” his voice is a slight whisper as he eases your shirt off, big hands immediately grabbing at the soft mounds.
“clark..” his name falls out your mouth in a breathy whimper, soft body arching into his as he pinches one of the pert buds lightly—mouth meeting the curve of your jaw.
he’s gentle with his touches, teasing even. calloused fingers skirting over your skin.
“missed having you like this.” the super confesses, kissing his way down the column of your throat and between the valley of your breasts.
“you smell so good,” his tongue gently traces a path across your skin until he’s taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the pebbled bud before switching to the other. a faint smile curving across his lips when your fingers curl into his hair, pushing more of your soft chest into his mouth.
“mm..” sliding a hand between your legs clark gently rubs over the crotch of your shorts as he continues lavishing your breasts in attention until he finally breaks away. you’re panting, the heat between your legs unmistakable—panties damp and sticky.
“still with me?” clark places a fleeting kiss to your sternum before working his way lower. your heart practically beating in your pussy the closer he gets to where you’re truly aching.
“yeah.”
the man slows his movements, offering you a tender smile before continuing, fingers hooking beneath the waist of your shorts “lift.”
pulling the fabric of your shorts and your panties down in one smooth go clark can’t help but lift a brow when you close your legs.
“what’s a matter baby?” rather than forcing your legs open his hands find your calves, rubbing in a comforting manner.
“i—" glancing at the ceiling you clear your throat “m’not..upkept down there.” you mumble quietly, skin flushing with even more heat beneath his stare.
“y/n,” his brows furrow in confusion before he scoffs “baby, you think i care? i just want to eat my wife’s pussy—i could care less about some damn hair.” the notion that you thought something as natural as hair would make him not want you hurt his feelings a little.
“i just don’t want you to feel like you have to go down on me when i’m like this.” you utter, gasping when he pinches your calf.
“i want to sweetheart. i would love to. but only if you’re comfortable with that.”
biting your lip lightly you hold his gaze for a few seconds before slowly parting your legs again, the cool air hitting your warm cunt and shooting a tremble through you.
“thank you.” clark can’t help but press a kiss to your knee before settling back between your legs. the scent of your arousal is enough to make his mouth practically water, pupils dilating as he gently parts your folds with two fingers. god, you were absolutely perfect.
the man holds your gaze as he leans in to finally taste, tongue pressing flat against your flesh. there’s a raw sound that leaves him, eyes closing as he begins to lap lazily at your cunt like it’s all he’s ever really wanted.
“..” rutting his hips subtly against the mattress clarks big arms slide beneath your thighs and wrap around them both—pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth.
you’re breathless, head tipped back against the pillows with your bottom lip caught between your teeth because the last thing you need is your daughter waking. his mouth works diligently, jaw flexing with each lap—each dip into your cunt. his saliva mixes with your arousal, leaking down your slit and into a small puddle on the mattress.
“can’t believe i let myself go so long without eating this pussy.” clark mumbled against your flesh, shaking his head slightly “almost forgot how good it was.” he adds reverently—tongue slowly circling your swollen clit. you gasp, body jerking in slight surprise.
“smallville.”
clark only chuckles against your slick flesh, dipping a thick finger into your cunt as he continues to stimulate your achy swollen clit with his tongue. your walls cling to the digit greedily, hips rocking for more.
“another?” it’s like he can read your mind and you waste no time answering.
“yes, please.” your voice is feathery, a soft furrow making a home between your brows as he slowly pulls his finger from your cunt, rubbing your pussy in a side sweeping motion before easing two fingers into your warmth. the pressure is enough to have a mewling, body going still for a moment as his fingers get knuckle deep.
your walls throb steadily—trying to get used to the intrusion and you can’t stop yourself from reaching down, fingers finding his soft curls—not tugging but simply resting on his head. like it was the best way to anchor your buzzing mind.
“you can pull f’you need.” he rasps lowly. and it makes you smile shakily for a split moment although it melts when he begins to move his hand.
“you’re so tight..been neglecting my baby bad hm..” he’s talking to himself, gaze trained on your pussy as he works you open and it’s absolutely filthy. mouth shiny with your juices—pupils blown so wide his baby blues appear black in the dim moolight that shines through the thin curtains of your bedroom. not to mention the way his hips move against the bed subtly—seeking some pressure to alleviate his aching cock.
“probably need three to fit my cock hm..just to be safe..” the super kisses your hipbone before moving up your body, fingers steadily pumping into your core. clarks senses felt like they were in overdrive—and maybe they were. he could smell you, feel you—and taste you on his tongue. every thought crossing his mind you.
his lips meet yours in a messy kiss, pussy soaked tongue slipping into your mouth—letting you taste your own cunt.
“nn..” your fingers curl around his nape, holding him closer as you kiss him back with similar intensity. the space between you both is electric—goosebumps on your body.
breaking away with a gasp you pant, breath mingling with his “clark..”
“i know baby,” clark nods, half lidded gaze glued to your face as he spreads his fingers in a scissoring motion. juices leaking down his hand like a broken fountain “gonna give you a third..open you good for my cock.” he mumbles, letting his lips brush yours in an almost kiss although he doesn’t close the distance fully.
“i can take it.” you utter. you’re too wound up, too impatient to wait for a third finger and even more prepping.
“y/n—” there’s a flicker of worry that mixes with the desire in his eyes. he wasn’t exactly small and he hadn’t fucked you in a long while. the idea of rushing the prep and hurting you weighing in the logical part of his brain.
“please.”
cursing under his breath clark shifts “if it hurt’s i’m prepping you right or we’re not continuing. understand?”
“yeah—”
“do you understand?” clark repeats seriously, fingers slowing.
your skin tingles “yes i understand.” you murmur softly.
the man stares at you for a few beats before pulling his fingers from your cunt, reaching behind his back with one hand to remove his shirt. you can’t tear your eyes away, watching his abdomen ripple with the movement.
he’s so big. nothing but pure muscle wrapped in the sweet box of your lover.
“hm?” the journalist lifts a thick brow, fingers moving to untie the drawstring of his shorts.
“nothing..you’re just really sexy.” you reply quietly.
“coming from you.” your husband eases the fabric of his shorts down his thick thighs, kicking them off uncaringly.
biting at your inner cheek your eyes flit downward—taking in the prominent bulge of his cock against the cotton that is his boxers, damp spot blacking the grey fabric. your lips part and you shift to a slightly upright position “can i.?”
blinking clark glances down at his clothed cock, thumb hooked beneath the wasteband of his underwear.
“not tonight,” the super gives you a little smile, pressing a quick kiss to your lips “told you i was taking care of you tonight.”
his answer makes you a smidge disappointed but you nod either way, settling back against the pillows “tomorrow then maybe.?”
clark laughs slightly, working his boxers down and off “yeah baby, maybe tommorow.”
“..” tonguing at your cheek you squeak when he pulls you closer by your thighs, cock just barely brushing your flesh.
“remember what i said yeah,” one of his hands keeping a light hold onto your thigh, the other gripping the base of his cock “if it hurts we stop.”
“i know.” you’re breathing deepening once more when you feel him slowly rub the thick head between your folds before he slaps it against your clit just to watch you jerk.
“mm.” the confirmation is enough for him and he wastes no time easing the tip in, eyes trained on your face—watching every expression you make like a hawk.
“okay so far.?”
“mhm..”
nodding clark kisses your forehead once before pushing forward, hand still around the base as he feeds your cunt his cock at a drawn out pace. the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
“you gotta relax baby..you’re squeezing me too tight. gonna push me right back out.” clark mumbles, jaw tightening a bit. the sensation of your warm cunny wrapped around him like a fucking vice was making it harder for him to think straight, the urge to bury himself inside you in one go strong but he holds back.
“sorry.” you breathe and clark can feel your walls ease up not a moment later. allowing the rest of him to gradually slip inside until he’s at the hilt, your breathing shallow. it’s almost overwhelming being stuffed so full, your cunt lavishing the cock it had been neglected of with greedy squeezing.
“s’okay.” the man grits out quietly—fingers curling into the pillows beside your head while his forehead rests against your shoulder.
“can i..?” he exhales shakily, warm breath skittering across your skin.
“mhm..”
mouthing at your shoulder the man rocks his hips slowly, ears tuned into the way you gasp—nails scraping across his bare skin. you’re dizzy, skin flushed and glistening with a thin layer of sweat and goodness does clark think you’re gorgeous. his pretty, perfect wife.
“clark..cl—” the super rubs a hand up your thigh, holding it up some to slide deeper—snuffing your words to whimpers and moans as he fucks into you. you’re embarrassingly close already, the weight of being sexually neglected catching up quicker than you could imagine.
“squeezing me so good.” clark hums, squeezing your flesh lightly—hips snapping forward at a steady pace. each drag of his cock deep in your gummy walls mind numbing, the chain around his neck swaying with each push. heavy balls slap against your slicked flesh each time he bottoms out.
“..” whimpering when he suddenly lets his cock slip out completely you’re foggy gaze flits to meet his, unsure of what he’s up to.
“wanna change positions.” there’s a soft kiss placed to your lips as an apology before he’s moving to lay on his back instead—grabbing your arm gently to bring you closer. you follow his guidance, straddling his hips with a shaky sigh.
“don’t pout,” the man muses gently, gripping the base of his cock lightly—just enough to rub slowly along your slit before easing it right back inside. sucking some air between his teeth clark slowly ruts into you, hands grabbing at your hips to help sink you down onto him.
your bodies move in tandem, skin rubbing skin. it’s a blissful connection. one that had been more than needed.
“i love you.” you pant softly, gummy walls quivering around his cock. you’re so close, so high.
“and i you.” his arms wrap around your midsection, pulling you closer as his thrusts grow a little less held together and more frantic.
“i love you so much.” his voice is raw with emotion. he had nothing but pure love for you.
dipping your head you catch his mouth, kissing him like you need it—that string fraying until it snaps.
“mmph,” clark swallows your cry, grabbing at your flesh as you come undone. the pleasure your release brings clings over your body like pure static.
breaking the kiss to let you breathe clark continues to steadily fuck you through your orgasm until the waves subside, his face buried into your neck. he’s at the brink, balls drawn up tight.
“can i cum inside?” he asks, husky and low.
“y-yeah, you can cum inside.” you nod, clinging tight to him. the words heaven sent, his hips rolling in a sloppy rhythm.
“you’re perfection..” lips meet your jaw, eyes closing as he teeters on the edge of relief. a ragged groan falling from his lips as he hits his peak—jerky movements as he cums, filling your cunt to the brim with his load.
you both bask in silence, bodies pressed tightly together until clark reluctantly begins to pull away.
“where are you going.?” your brows furrow as he lays you down gently, wincing as his cock slips from your cunt.
“bathroom.”
relaxing a little you nod, gaze following as he gets off the bed and heads to the bathroom. clark returns a few minutes later, scooping you up wordlessly—carrying you to the bathroom. the shower already going—hot and ready for you to melt beneath.
“pee first, then we’ll shower.” clark places you to your feet, keeping a hand on your lower back until he’s certain you can stand. there’s a small laugh that leaves you. if there was something he took seriously it was proper aftercare.
the shared shower takes some time. your husband very intent on making sure every inch of your body was clean (and giving you a second orgasm while he’s at it) until you’re practically squeaky.
the rest of it a blur until you’re piled beneath the new, thick comforter. exhaustion settling in your bones as you lay curled against his chest with his fingers massaging your scalp absentmindedly.
“getting sleepy?”
your eyes flutter and you can’t help but laugh a little “mhm..that obvious?”
“a little.” clark utters lightly, nails scraping over your scalp. his presence is soothing and his touch isn’t doing much but lulling you closer to sleep.
“thank you.” you hum.
“for what sweetheart?”
“taking care of me tonight. helping ease my mind.” you mumble, clarks fingers pausing.
“you don’t need to thank me.” he wasn’t some fling or a quick fuck. he was your husband—taking care of you was the most minimal thing he could do.
“not for tonight or any other night. i’d do it again and again without needing a single thing in return . it makes me feel good when you feel good and—” clarks words come to a slight halt, a chuckle of disbelief leaving him. you were out like a light.
“goodnight.” the super presses a light kiss to your head before adjusting his head on the pillows— his own exhaustion swallowing him gradually.
“daddy?” a soft knock before the door cracks open and your daughter peeks in “i can’t sleep—i heard a goblin under my bed.”
clarks lips quirk, heavy lidded gaze flitting to the small girl.
“c’mon,” he extends his arm out “don’t wake mommy.”
the girl is quick to climb into the bed, settling beside him—opposite of you and snuggling into his side. he didn’t know how he got so lucky but he sure as hell would never take this for granted. even if it meant fewer hours of sleep before work and nightly monster checks. this was the life he was destined for.
as clark kent and superman.
౨ৎ been working on this for a billion years and i still hate it (feel like my pacing was soo bad but im a yapper mkay) but fuck it we ball. this is like the longest thing i’ve writing since 2024 lolz (i used to know ball i swear) also lets count how many times i used (,) and (-) lmao
may delete it later bc im a harsh critic on myself ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼
also so random but i saw a jason x bruce ship drawing on twt and i think i threw up in my mouth. why? ૮ʿˎಠﾛಠˏʾა
synopsis: you could assume simply by observation that your boyfriend clark kent was big down there— and yet in your faultless underestimation, you physically cannot take him
warnings: smut ahead (they do the deed) - size kink for sure.. sweet!clark is the definition of “big d stand for big demeanour” iykyk. also take a shot every time it says big help
a/n: here u go! I KNOW THEY WANT DAMIAN BUT BLAME DAVID CORNSWET I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT CLARK KENT
you knew clark kent was big.
it showed— with the way his dress shirt buttons were always at their last whim, threatening to pop at every little movement; with his shoe and coat size (you had playfully tried on his blazer once— it could’ve doubled as a dress); with the way he towered over you when he’d bend down to hear you; with the way you’d sink into his broad chest and disappear behind his arms when he’d hug you (if you got crushed by his enormous biceps you’d pass out happy); with the way his palm was twice the size of yours, and how his hands would engulf your face when he’d cradle it to kiss you— not because you were ‘petite’ or ‘tiny’, but because he was simply huge.
of course, standing at a great height of 6’4 and weighing 240 pounds (that’s over a HUNDRED KILOGRAMS just by the way), clark’s size was guaranteed. justifiable. obviously made sense.
it was hard to bar the thoughts that often followed that train of thought. lying on top of him on the bed of your apartment with his large palm over your stomach, covering almost the entirety of its surface, and the other at your plush thigh— it was hard not to think about other parts of his body. hard not to think about the faint underline of something long and large in between his legs, sometimes guilty for poking against your butt during cuddle sessions.
it was hard not to feel the size of it. and every time the very thought made your throat dry. made you clench around air.
sometimes you’d wonder (like a freak, but you can’t be blamed, just look at your man) about how it would feel to take him: when you’d reach that eventual stage of your relationship, if it would even fit. would it be possible? you had had exes— you were sure none of them were even half clark’s size.
but you revelled in the thought. the thought of having your sweet, farm-boy, gentle giant of a boyfriend force himself into you, stretching you out so bad you wouldn’t remember anything but his name. it’s a little disrespectful to feminism, the things you’d let this man do to you— simply because you know he’d be the biggest gentleman doing them.
but those were all fantasies. clark kent can’t be that big— right?
and so after a long day of work two months into your relationship with clark, the two of you return to your apartment, both exhausted and truthfully needing to blow off some steam. you’re the first to initiate wandering into new territory, leading clark into your bedroom with hands all over his neck and shoulders, puny against their broadness.
on the contrary, his hands are large yet gentle, framing out your entire waist and back with one swipe along your body. he holds you like you’re priceless, effortlessly lifting you onto the bed. you grab his wrist, dragging it down, and so he— getting the message— meticulously moves his fingers to unbutton your pants, mouth still attached to yours, mindlessly making out.
he carefully pushes down your pants with one hand, trying to start slow and cautious, but you impatiently reach down yourself to kick off your underwear. clark lets out a velvety groan against your ear, peppering kisses down your neck, palm hovering over your mound and then in between your legs. you shamelessly part your legs for your boyfriend whose smile you feel against your burning skin.
“enthusiastic?” he whispers, voice deep and mushy against your ear, and you melt. you nod unabashedly, turning your head to chase his face to kiss his pretty dimple. he buries his face in your neck, smile widening.
clark is diligent as his thick fingers slide up and down your soaking slit. he’s tentative at first, hyper-vigilant on your reactions to make sure he’s doing a good job. you whimper, closing your legs around his hand. he presses a kiss to your jaw as his fingers rub circles on your puffy clit, sliding down. “tell me if anything doesn’t feel right,” he whispers, caring as always.
a long, hefty finger tenderly sinks into your cunt. your lips part to release a shaky whine, pulling him close, quivering as you breathe. clark nuzzles his nose against your jaw. “you sound so gosh darn beautiful.”
one finger quickly turns into two, crude sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your sopping hole polluting your room. and then there were three, your slot clamping in protest, curses clark would never approve of if not in this circumstance flying out from in between your lips.
“i know,” he whispers, unintentionally slightly patronising, but his intention is to be kind. his other hand is holding your thighs apart, thumb caressing the fluffy skin on the inside. “i’m sorry. you’ll need this,” his voice is apologetic and soft.
need this?
in your daze, you don’t process his words at all. instead, you’re a begging mess. “clark, i need you,” you breathe out, gasping in pleasure when his fingers curl deep inside you, hitting just right. “please—”
clark kisses your mouth shut. he continues to pump his chunky digits in and out of your clenching hole for a few moments until you’re fully leaking onto the sheets and pathetically stretched— only then does he pull away as his other hand moves to his pants.
you make the grave mistake of not looking, too busy savouring the way clark’s fingers feel plunging inside you, rocking your hips against his hand as he’s preparing you, remaining blissfully unaware.
only when clark tugs down his pants and boxers in one go and aligns his leaking tip with you do you realise what ‘you’ll need this’ meant. that his fingers weren’t teasing. they were doing you a service.
a gasp rips through your throat. you full on choke when you feel how thick he is against your entrance. you fumble to grip the sheets, using them as anchors to slightly elevate yourself to look down at him.
your jaw drops. your eyes are wide in a mix of alarm and a strange sense of arousal, moving up to the face of a guilty clark.
“clark,” your voice cracks with how dry it’s become, eyes locked on his impossibly girthy, fat, large dick. you shake your head slightly, voice comedically breathless and meek. “clark that’s not going to fit.”
clark’s cheeks heat up. “you took three fingers,” he whispers weakly to comfort you, fingers still gently stimulating your clit by toying with it. his lips are pursed defeatedly, unsure of how to go about this, dimples sinking into his cheeks with embarrassment.
you’re still bewildered. you hesitantly lay back down, contemplating the pros to cons ratio of your hunk of a boyfriend. you hook your arms around his neck: possessive, nervous, and immensely turned on.
clark reaches up with his other hand, cradling your cheek. “i’ll be gentle,” he leans down, pressing a kiss to your ear. “promise,” his voice is a reassuring whisper. of course you trust him, but he’s just so—
when he pushes in just a bit, your mouth drops in a sharp gasp, eyelashes fluttering as your eyes roll back into your head, closing.
“clark—” you can barely breathe let alone hold it together, arms tightening around his neck, keeping him close for support at the big stretch.
“clark, i can’t—” you whine, wheezing for air, your body suddenly too hot, chest too tight, cunt way too strained around the bare tip of clark’s length. it’s just past the leaky red head, and you can feel every damn vein on his length with how thin you’ve been stretched out.
guilt floods your boyfriend’s chest, his eyebrows creasing, bottom lip jutting out in a frown. he pulls out enough so only his red mushroom tip is buried at your opening, which is still torture for your poor hole.
“sweetheart,” he breathes, hand on your cheek, tapping his index finger twice against your burning skin to bring you back from your dazed state.
you blink, eyes barely opening as you meet clark’s. you clench around his tip, cunt paradoxically desperate to be filled. “too big,” you whine.
your complaint isn’t flattery or dirty talk— it’s genuine. clark’s downright unreal, pornographic combination of width and length seems physically impossible to take.
clark instantly feels worse.
his hand moves down, gently prying your legs apart at a comfortable angle to caress your inner thigh.
“sorry,” he breathes, deep voice low and barely constrained, apologising as if it’s his fault. “i’m— i’m sorry. we don’t have to do this,” he exhales as if it hurts, about to pull himself out when you clutch his bicep, shaking your head rapidly, eyebrows crinkled.
“just— just need a minute.” your chest heaves up and down with every deep breath. gosh you really really want him, and need him, and you’re aching, but—
your back arches off the bed, sucking in a deep breath. you close your eyes, hands sticky with sweat, greedily tracing the muscles of his back.
“okay,” you heave out. “i’m ready.”
clark looks even remorseful, a faint crimson painting the tip of his ears. “angel, we don’t—”
your hand firmly clutches his bicep, nails digging into the hard muscle. “clark i want it,” you whisper instead, cutting him off. your hazy eyes open to look at his pretty baby blue ones, and they relax slightly at the sight of your desperate, wretched look. his hand moves up to caress your cheek, thumb rubbing up and down the soft skin— the moment is intimate.
“my sweet girl,” he muses. “i’d never let you get hurt,” he whispers, this time leaning down, pressing a peck to the edge of your mouth.
he slowly, painfully so, pushes more of his length inside. your breath hitches, and the initial stretch from the curve of his tip in comparison to the girth of his length is straight torture. you feel tension build up in your stomach, and you’re concerned you’ll cum just by his head. your lips fall open in a shaky moan.
clark supports his weight with one hand beside your head, nursing your face with kisses while his other hand moves down to angle his length carefully so he pushes in just right, driving another inch inside.
your head pushes back into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut. “fuck,” you curse, your grip on his arm bruising. “fuck clark, i need more—”
clark’s mouth finds yours, kiss sweet and delicate. “language,” he simpers against your lips, aware of how annoying that probably sounded. “i’ll give you what you need, angel. i always do.”
his voice is straight up sensual— deep, low, and articulate, butterflies erupting in your stomach.
you’re making a mess on the sheets already, the ring of your opening stretched around clark’s bulky dick. you can feel each vein when he pushes in halfway, your hole choking his length. he lets out a low grunt. “you feel so perfect,” he whispers.
you can’t take it anymore. “fuck it,” you cry out, arms back around clark’s neck, holding on tight for support. “i mean it, clark. just ruin me—”
who’s clark to deny you when you whine so sweetly?
you cry out in pleasure when clark drives the rest of his length inside you. he isn’t rough or quick, but does it in one smooth careful continuous movement. the feeling is brutally filling, a string of curses and moans leaving your pink lips. you feel numb inside, gummy walls taut against the veiny skin of his dick.
clark groans at the feeling, anchoring himself by placing a hand on your tummy. his eyes widen when he feels the outlined shape of him inside you, over your skin at your abdomen, and his cheeks flush.
“oh gosh,” his voice is breathless. “you were made for me, weren’t you? just perfect.”
you’re too fucked out to argue with that— though no human was made for a size as big as clark’s. it’s one of the rare things that are completely alien about him. good thing you’re great at adapting.
clark lets you adjust with his monster dick inside you, pushed till his neatly trimmed base, thighs against your pelvis. his shaft is curved just a little, fitting perfectly inside you, abusing all the right places. when you squirm and whine for him to stop being so slow and careful, he smiles instead, cheeks dimpling.
“so inconsiderate. what about me?” he whispers, leaning down. “i’m inside you for the first time too, and it feels heavenly.”
you could cum just by the vibrations clark’s hot, sweet, rough voice send through your bones.
with those heat inducing words clark pulls half of himself out, slowly thrusting back inside. his tip hits perfectly against you, and he almost goes feral when he hears the disgruntled moan you let out. chasing those sounds, he begins to form the perfect rhythm and pattern of thrusts, obscene sounds of skin slapping and pathetic whining filling your room. his super-strength is foul for the stamina it gives him, and how focused he is on pleasuring you, pushing inside just right, is enough to make you collapse.
as he speeds up and finds a good, consistent pace of plunges, clark’s gasps become more dark and intense, his shaft twitching and pulsing inside you. he has to grip your hip to ground himself, thick fingers digging into your skin, his exhales sharp at your ear. he’s fairly vocal, but it’s mostly grunts, gasps, groans, your name, mixed with the sweetest praises.
“mm—yes,” his mouth falls open to let out a low, guttural sound at your ear. “you’re taking me so perfectly,” his hips slam against yours. “flawless,” he kisses your cheek, lips parted as he breathes hot air directly against your skin. “gorgeous.”
by the end with the two of you nearing your releases, clark’s thrusts are harder and lazier, the bed creaking in protest and so are you, his thick head pressing repeatedly at the same perfect spot that makes your stomach tighten, bruising it, leaking all over your walls that helplessly clench around his length.
you cum first, because of course— clark’s stamina is inhuman. you tremble, one hand tight on clark’s forearms, nails scratching his skin, the other gripping the sheets so hard they almost rip— your orgasm tears through you, your pussy desperately, uncontrollably tightening so hard around clark’s length he mewls.
you’re dripping from the edges each time clark pulls out to thrust again, thick hot liquid leaking down your thighs. “just a little more,” clark begs, holding your limp body to comfort you. “just— just gonna finish,” he uses your fucked out hole until you clench just right at his tip, gasping as he spurts out right inside you, filling your gummy walls. he pulls out as he does so some filthy white liquid decorates your pink, puffy, tired hole and clit— clark stares for a good minute, mesmerised by how enticing you look, pulsing around nothing, all swollen.
clark needs a minute to regain his own self first, and he’s kissing you more because he needs it, your lips barely puckering in response, exhausted. you’re on the verge of passing out when clark makes himself decent, rushing to the bathroom and drawing you a warm bath. he helps wash and clean you, and you’re almost limp in his arms the entire time, his super strength coming in handy. he dresses you in one big t-shirt of his, laying you down on your bed.
he fixes himself up next before excitedly crawling into bed with you, immediately wrapping his arms around you.
he squeezes you like a kid with a teddy bear, pulling your back flush to his chest. “mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, kissing your cheek from behind with a large grin. “that was perfect. you’re perfect.”
you smile, just a bit, because good for fucking him. you’re warm and clean thanks to him (still aching and sore), but downright annoyed at how perfect your boyfriend is. you groan as you turn around to face him to taunt, but seeing clark’s bright smile, adorable dimples, and scrunched nose makes your heart race.
you want to kiss him, but you’re honestly too tired to even move that much. luckily clark gets the hint, or is desperate himself, moving down and pressing more than three sweet kisses to your lips in succession.
“thank you,” he breathes against your mouth mid-kisses, voice suddenly much quieter. more intimate. “you were so good for me,” he praises, arm rubbing up and down your back. “i really appreciated that. how well you took me.”
your cheeks heat up and you stare at your boyfriend in awe because there’s no way he’s real. there’s no way he’s thanking you when he’s the one who made you see stars living out your sick fantasy.
you bury your crimson face in his chest, grumbling. “god, you can’t be real.”
clark grins wider, hand coming up to gently pat the back of your head. you bask in his scent, cozy and content despite the burn in between your legs. there’s a price to pay for such extensive pleasure.
“i miscalculated bad though,” you mumble against his shirt. “you were way bigger than i thought. and i thought big.”
dick grayson who comes home with a pretty pink cast on his arm, lips curled into a distasteful sneer as he shuts the door with his foot. you can’t help but want to ask but you don’t get much time to because he’s already stomping upstairs to his room, the door rattling the whole house as he slams it.
dick grayson who doesn’t leave his room for two days straight yet you can’t help but hear him moving on and off, shutting things a little too loudly and stomping. you can’t help but pity him (especially after you managed to wring what happened out of wally).
dick grayson who reluctantly opens his door when you knock one night to offer him some of the pizza you ordered. he’s a disheveled mess, like he’d just rolled out of bed (he might’ve seeing as he was only in boxers).
“what?” dick isn’t exactly feeling all that nice. hadn’t been since bruce practically benched him like some little kid because of a little ass break, he’d been through worse and yet this is what it takes to put him out?
despite being a tad taken aback by his tone you clear your throat “i ordered pizza from johns—thought i’d see if you wanted some.”
“no, thanks though.”
nodding you turn on your heel, a bit embarrassed you even asked before his voice stops you.
“actually— would you mind doing something else for me?”
dick grayson who’s propped against the headboard of his large poster bed, muscled legs open just enough to fit you between them. there’s a slight heaviness to the air, electric blue eyes watching your every move. his cock is twitching against his stomach, waiting for you to touch it—to offer some relief.
dick grayson who can’t stop the slight whimper from his mouth when you finally do touch him, your hand hot around his achy cock. it felt so good already and you hadn’t even moved your hand, the tension and pent up frustration from not being to jack off properly (as embarrassing as that was) enough to drive him insane.
“fu—cking hell, nn that’s it.”
dick grayson who’s biting his lip so hard it breaks the skin when you find a good, steady pace, your face scrunched in concentration as watch the pearly beads of precum leak from the angry tip. the muscles in his thighs flex every time you squeeze, fingers barely wrapping around the thick base.
dick grayson who can’t stop himself from rocking his hips. he’s hesitant at first, slight jerky movements but soon enough it melts to a more precise rhythm and he’s fucking your fist like it’s his own personal toy.
“t-tighter..squeeze it tighter.”
dick grayson who spills in your hand with a shaky groan, eyes squeezed shut so tight he sees white.
dick grayson who can’t help but bat his lashes, suddenly out of the dumps about his broken arm now that he’s bonded with you. using any opportunity to sweetly ask for your assistance—all of which you give. can’t have the man dying from lack of dick attention right?
dick grayson who’s a bit disappointed to get his cast off but also a little optimistic. two hands meant he could repay you for all the help you gave him. something he was sure the both of you would enjoy.
⋮ mdni, mention of pussy eating, blowjob, fem reader.
☆ 806 wc.
clark kent had a staring issue. at least that’s what lois liked to call it anyway. the man, ever the polite one seemed to need eye contact. every time he stopped to talk to someone his eyes would meet theirs, holding their gaze until they had to look away.
it was a bit overwhelming sometimes. you could be talking about the most random thing—babbling off about your shitty day or some cute little dog you saw and his eyes are on your face. sometimes they’d flit to your lips, watching the way you mouthed certain words. just simply studying.
clark kent who can’t help but watch your face when he’s at home between your warm thighs. those bright blues eyes a few shades darker, pupils blown wide and his tongue lavishing your cunt with slow licks. he likes to watch the way you gasp out, how your eyes close and your teeth catch your lip. pretty features blissed out in a way that makes him need more.
clark kent who watches you fuck yourself on his cock when you’re impatient. you’d been so needy all damn day and he had just barely stepped through the door before you’re on him like a leech. he doesn’t complain, doesn’t put up a fuss—just shuts the door with his foot and sweeps you off your feet heading straight for the stairs. you’re both out of your clothes before you can blink and he’s maneuvering you right over his cock.
“go on baby,” his hands grab at your waist, givin them a light squeeze as his half lidded gaze meets yours “you needed this.”
clark kent who absolutely, positively cannot hold eye contact when you’re sucking his cock. he’s pink in the face, tongue pressed hard against his inner cheek to keep his moans down. the soft car flooring cushions your knees from your position between his legs, the small cramped space not offering much room.
“..s—slow down.” his words are shaky, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose when he tilts his head slightly to look at you although he’s quick to look away. he doesn’t think he can handle the sight of you—lips stretched around his cock. those pretty eyes glossed over with slight tears (you accidentally gagged yourself), lashes sticking together.
it was messy. the wet, slurp sounds you were making straight pornographic. the man would cum without a second thought. he knew he would.
“mm..,” swallowing around his cock and watching the way his adams apple bobs you pull off with a soft pop, saliva and sticky gloss connecting your swollen lips to his cock “you gotta look at me.”
your words are what clark would imagine is the closest thing to a sirens call. one step off the deep end if he so much as listened.
“can’t.” he grounds out softly, head meeting the seat. he’s panting, thighs tense with the effort of holding back.
“it’s eye contact. you like eye contact.” you murmur matter of factly, puffy lips running up the underside of his cock leaving soft kisses behind.
that makes the man huff out, slightly humorous—mostly pained. smartass.
“i’ll cum f’i do.” he responds. his eyes shut tightly still, jaw tensing and untensing every few seconds.
“just look at me baby” you repeat, all low and syrupy. and that’s all it takes, the term of endearment enough to have him opening his eyes. the second your gazes meet you smile some—taking his cock back into your mouth like nothing. a low hiss leaving him, your own gaze glued to his. ensuring he keeps it right where you want it, on you.
he can hardly hold himself together, a thick vein popping out in his neck as he tries to not shoot his load straight down your throat. but then you work yourself all the way down, nose meeting his pubes and you’re keeping eye contact like it’s the absolute last thing you’d do.
and he’s a goner. cumming right down your throat, milky seed leaking from the corners of your swollen lips when you do finally pull up to breathe.
“..” once he’s caught his breath the man can’t help but shake his head, warm hand cupping your jaw while his thumb wipes the cum from your mouth.
“don’t do that again.” he muses softly as he peers down at you. his gaze is warm despite the faint foggy look to them.
turning your head just enough to kiss his palm you hum with faux thoughtfulness “or?”
clark only offers you a small smile, thumb pressing your lips as he studies your face. he’d get you back later. maybe make you watch him fuck you’re pussy in that mirror you cheekily hung up over the bed once you two got home.
after all, clark kent loved to make eye contact. sometimes anyway.
۶ৎ listened to 1,2,3 by nct dream on repeat to write this (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)♡ i didn’t proofread cus its 5 am so if it’s got any issues..oops :D
jason who doesn’t mean to call you mommy while you’re fucking, his mind was just overwhelmed from his shitty day and your pussy was like heaven around his cock. warm, velvety walls sucking him right back in with each drag out of his hips.
the word squeezes it’s way from his mouth in shaky whine, his hips stuttering just a little when he realizes what he just said. he should be embarrassed—you should be embarrassed for him. but instead you nod your head, planting your hands on his chest and rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.
“so good for mommy jas.” you mumble so naturally. your soft voice making his brain blank and the next thing he knows he’s nutting harder than he has in his life.
jason who repeats the mistake again a few weeks later. he’s got your legs over his shoulders—knees pressed into your tummy while he steadily ruts into you. you’re beneath him, babbling and moaning each time he hits that gummy spot deep inside. the way your pussy soaks his cock has his mind fuzzy, jaw taut.
“fuck, mama…” gritting his teeth jason huffs shakily, his gaze drifting to where you’re both connecting.
shaking his head jason captures your lips in a messy kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth when you gasp “most perfect pussy..”
jason who let’s it slip a little more frequently. he can’t help it really. especially when you’re talking to him all saccharine, praising him while he fucks your tits. telling him how he’s your good boy and how he’s so cute when he’s fucking you.
“nn..c-can i cum yet? please..” never in his life had he thought he’d be tearing up from sheer frustration, abdomen tight as he tries his absolute hardest not to cum. not without permission anyway.
“please what?” your brow lifts in question, fingers tightening around the leaky head of his cock and forcing a rough catch of breath from him.
“please..mm.. mommy..” the beefy man is red in the face, lips parting in a shaky whimper when your thumb circles his weeping slit.
the corners of your lips rise a little and you hum “good boy—asking mommy so politely.” the praise has his hips jerking, head falling back against the pillow. he didn’t think he could last much longer before he spilled into your hand.
“god..i need to cum so bad. it hurts so bad mommy.” he’s babbling now—spills of incoherent words and you feel a little bad but also not so much. it’s hot seeing him so submissive—letting you take care of him and make him feel good like he does you.
“ask nicely baby.” your other hand wanders lower, nails scratching lightly against his swollen balls. a shudder traveling up his spine.
“m’please..please..let your good boy cum mommy..” it’s pathetic and he’d probably get hot under the collar if you teased him about when he didn’t feel like he could explode.
“yeah? you wanna cum in mommys hand?” twisting your wrist and increasing the speed you jack his cock off with you tilt you head.
his head tips immediately, a quick submissive nod “mhm..”
“okay, you can cum baby.” you murmur, lips brushing over his. your permission is enough for him, throaty moan leaving his mouth as he stops holding back. hips jerking in short bursts as he spills into the tight tunnel your hand provided.
panting softly jason ignores the little giggle of satisfaction you let out, falling limp against the mattress with an arm covering his eyes.
it takes him a few seconds before he speaks again, slow waves of pleasure still flowing through him as you lazily stroke his cock “don’t.”
laughing you can’t help but to lay a little kiss his nose “don’t what?”
“say anything.”
“why not? mommy took care of you no?” you muse softly, smugness radiating from you when you feel his cock twitch.
swatting your hand away from him the man huffs “whatever.”
but you both knew it was only a matter of time before he’d be back in the same position. and deep down jason knew that’s exactly where he wanted to be.
⟢ this was so bad omg but i’ve never written mommy kink so i was just typing off the dome (and no sleep)
𝜗𝜚 my requests are open so please feel free to leave a ask. you can find my guidelines here.
| i’m a bit late posting this but i figured it would help some. my requests are currently open so please feel free to ask away!
| i write and or will be comfortable writing for the following characters/people ; dick grayson, clark kent, bruce wayne, sam and dean winchester (not wincest), joel miller, peter parker, jason todd, steve harrington, arthur morgan..
| …the list can grow or depending on the ask i can be willing to attempt writing for a character even if i’m slightly unfamiliar with writing for them (examples: remy lebeau, scott summers, kurt wagner, gojo satoru, geto suguru, kory anders..etc)
| everything is fiction so please treat it as such :D. if not an ask it’s just something silly i wrote that has no correlation to the canonical being tbh because where’s the fun in that?
⸝⸝ guidelines
| willing to write a good bit of things but some of which i won’t; incest/ step-cest, vore, anything to do with piss or excrements, noncon, pedophilia, age regression (esp, in a manner that’s strictly sexual)..tbc
| i can do gender neutral writes but please lmk when asking because otherwise it will be afab/ fem terms because that’s what comes naturally for me.
☆ please allow me a little bit of time to process and actually write your requests. i am pretty busy throughout my days but i try to stay consistent (i get excited writing for them) when writing for asks, but grace is never not welcome :)
"clark kent who loves to have you in . . ." | nsfw headcannons
warnings — [minors dni!!] detailed sex positions and descriptions, clark and his huge dick, me just being really horny but what else is new 🤒
clark who loves to have you in missionary because he needs to be close. the kind of close where your breath mingles, where he can see every twitch of your face, every tear that wells up when he fucks you too deep, too good. he’s slow at first—so slow, dragging his cock in and out, watching it disappear into you while your legs tremble on his shoulders. his massive hands cradle your thighs or pin your wrists to the mattress, depending on his mood.
“you look so fucking beautiful like this,” he groans, hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt with a hard thrust that makes you scream. “can you feel how deep I am, sweetheart? i love feeling you so deep like this”
the kiss is messy, wet, his tongue almost violating your mouth as his pace turns punishing. his skin slaps against yours, sweat slick between you, his pelvis grinding just right to make you clench and whimper. when he’s close, he holds your face, panting, whispering filth so softly into your ear.
“gonna fill you up, baby—fuck, i’m gonna fill this pussy so deep you’ll feel me tomorrow.”
clark who loves to have you in cowgirl because he loses his mind when you’re on top. his hands rest on your hips, but only because you let him touch. his muscles are trembling, jaw clenched, trying not to grab you and flip you over, but watching you take control? watching you grind on him, tits bouncing, face twisted in pleasure? it drives him insane.
“fuck, just like that—god, look at you, so pretty” he pants, eyes glued to where you’re bouncing on his cock, loud and wet. “y’so tight, baby, you’re milking me, please ride me faster.”
sometimes he just can’t help himself so pins your hips down, holding you in place while he thrusts up, hard and fast, letting you feel how strong he is, how deep he can get when he really tries.
“all mine,” he growls, sweat dripping down his temple. “youre all mine—you hear me, sweetheart? say it.”
clark who loves to have you in prone bone for when he just has the urge to ruin you sweetly, clark flips you on your stomach and fucks you deep, slow, unrelenting. his weight pins you down, one big hand gripping the back of your neck, the other tangled in your hair. you’re panting—drooling, with your cheek pressed to the sheets, back arched as his cock grinds into you, stretching you so good you can barely even think to breathe.
“taking me so well, baby,” he groans into your ear, lips brushing your skin. “you love this, don’t you? love being good f’me, while i’m in you deep and slow.”
you whimper, and his hand slides under you, fingers rubbing your clit in slow, lazy circles. his cock drags inside you, thick and hot, your slick making it so messy, your thighs soaked, his balls slapping your pussy with every thrust. he keeps whispering—filthy praise, soft groans, desperate moans when you clench around him.
“god—i’m gonna come so deep inside you, sweetheart. don’t run. stay right here. lemme feel you.”
clark who loves to have you in standing doggy just for days when he wants to grab you, bend you over the kitchen counter, the dresser, whatever’s closest, and take you hard. his hands are bruising on your hips, slamming you back against him with every deep thrust. your knees shake, your breath comes out in moans, and he’s groaning behind you, eyes locked on the way your ass bounces.
“god—you’re just s-so perfect,” he growls, landing a sharp slap that makes you yelp. “wish you could see how I’m splitting you open, baby.”
you grip the counter, desperate to stay upright, but he’s relentless, pounding into you so hard you feel him in your stomach. his hand wraps in your hair, yanking your head back so he can whisper in your ear.
“you gonna come for me like this? ‘can feel it getting closer, just let go baby.”
you come with a scream, and he fucks you through it, grunting as he spills inside you, his cock twitching deep, filling you up, your legs giving out as he holds you against him, shaking. “so so good f’me”
clark who loves to have you in spooning for those mornings that are lazy and soft. clark pulls you close, wraps around you, and slides in from behind, thick and slow and perfect. his arm curls under your head, the other gripping your thigh, keeping you spread for him. his cock drags in deep, slow thrusts, and you’re gasping, boneless in his arms.
“still sleepy, baby?” he teases, kissing your neck. “m’sorry im just so needy this morning….”
and he just loves the intimacy—the way your bodies fit, the way you whimper when he grinds into you, slow and deep. his hand sneaks between your legs, rubbing your clit, making you moan, squirm, beg.
“gonna keep you here all day,” he groans, his thrusts getting rougher, messier. “fill you up, over again, and over again, until you’re dripping on the sheets, baby. can you feel how much I love you?”
a/n: love u guys sm please send requests for me to get back to and write for!! i write for remmick and clark kent rn <3
tags: [reply or dm to be added] @jimmys-tiara @dolleciita @budgiefeatherboa @flixpii @redhairedgardenfairy @faestunna
⋮ mdni, oral (fem rec!), needy dick, fingering, fem reader, p in v!
☆ 1.9k wc
dick was starving. the moment he had climbed his way into your apartment he was on you, hot mouth against yours while his big hands roamed every soft crevice of your skin. he missed you. hell, he thought he was close to losing it being away for so long but that was the job. didn’t mean he couldn’t miss you like crazy though.
“god,” the man barely breaks away for air, walking you backwards towards your messy bed “needed this..needed you baby.”
“hell, wals kept,” his fingers find the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head with gentleness “bitching at me. ‘stop talkin bout your girl grayson’—how could i? missed you so fucking much..kept thinking bout your pretty face.” dick breathes, grabby hands already moving to knead at your tits. the weight of them in his palms sends a soft shudder down his spine, you’re so soft and plush.
“had to fuck my hand one night cause it was so unbearable.” he huffs, pointer and thumb pinching your hardening peaks. you were already breathing hard, brows pinched together tight in that cute little expression he loved.
“d’you miss me too sweetheart? tell me the truth..” his hands wander further, fingers hooking into the hem of your sleep shorts and pulling. the warm fabric slowly sliding over your ass and down your calves.
“i—of course i did gray.” you murmur, squeaking softly when he pushes you down onto your back.
grinning boyishly the acrobat hums, mouth meeting the soft flesh of your tummy “promise?”
gasping out softly your back arches, fingers threading into his soft hair although you don’t tug or pull. his mouth is soft against your skin, biting and sucking every piece of flesh they brush. marking you just the way he likes.
“say it,” dick mutters, mouthing slowly over your panties “tell me you promise baby..” dick isn’t typically a whiner in bed but he can’t help the way his voice pitches higher and his fingers grip your thighs because he fuck did he need every part of you. it was like his brain was on autopilot. thinking solely of you, you, you.
you can feel the way his tongue traces the cotton of your underwear, saliva seeping into the fabric as he slowly teases you oh so close to where you really want him.
“p-promise,” you breathe, wiggling your hips a bit “promise i missed you gray..” the honesty in your sweet voice makes him groan and his cock twitch. the fact you missed him just as much sending nothing but pure serotonin to his brain and blood to his cock.
“good..” sliding his hands over the sides of your thighs dick tugs them upwards slightly, hot breath fanning the damp spot he had been licking. your pussy aching for attention, slowly but surely dampening your panties as well.
“so many things i wanna do baby.” dick mutters as he places a kiss to pussy lips over the underwear, humming against the puffy flesh.
“wanna start by eating this pussy..know she missed me.” dick mumbles, fingers hooking the waistband of your panties “lift up.”
you oblige, raising your hips just enough to let him pull the dampening fabric off and down your legs. and you find a warm heat settling over your skin— the urge to close up from shyness strong although you don’t make it far. warm, callused hands part your legs—opening you wide for his eyes. a noise of appreciation rumbling from his chest as he watches your pussy drool and clench around nothing.
“prettiest pussy..” dick mumbles reverently, his mouth on you before you have time to dwell on his compliment. he’s slow at first, like he’s taking his time to savor the taste he ached so long for.
he’s breathing raggedly against your flesh, tongue lapping languidly. side to side, up and down and then slow circles around your clit— rinsing and repeating until he’s light-headed, (lost in the sauce) drowning in your pussy.
“mm..” a thick finger traces your entrance, dipping in just enough to make you gasp before pulling back.
“d’you want it?” the question is mumbled against your pussy, his heavy gaze flitting on your face—waiting patiently for your response.
your fingers spread against the bedsheets, hips rocking slowly against his face “y-yes..want it bad..”
that’s all he needs to hear, sinking two fingers into your cunt with ease—his mouth covering your clit once more.
“nn..” your eyes fluttered closed, lips parting just enough to let the soft moans of pleasure fall. his fingers work diligently, scissoring you open for something better—something bigger.
“really missed you.” he exhales. pulling back just enough to let a glob of warm spit drip onto your pussy, sliding right between your folds and mixing with his other saliva and your own juices. it’s filthy—and god does it make his blood hotter. licking his lips dick moves slightly, his face suddenly hovering yours—fingers still working avidly.
“…” licking his lips dick cranes his head down, nudging his nose against yours like he isn’t knuckle deep in your cunt—pushing you toward higher up the coaster toward your first climax.
“love you..” dick murmurs, all saccharine and low before stealing the air from your lungs with a messy kiss. the taste of your pussy on his tongue that invades your mouth, swallowing up your cries and moans as his fingers steadily move. and you’re already so close, your orgasm practically on the tip of your tongue.
dick pulls back just enough “m’come for me..come on my fingers baby..can feel you squeezing so tight..you’re so close aren’t you.?”
nodding wordlessly your eyes close shut, hands finding purchase on his shoulders. that spring wound tight, ready to snap with just the right amount of pressure.
“come then baby..please..i need it.” he breathes. almost pleading.
then his thumb mets your clit, rubbing in firm circles—juices from your cunt leaking down his fingers and your ass.
“dick—” your nails dig into the fabric of his tee, back arching and toes curling. that thin line snaps—shockwaves rippling through your body as you finally cum.
dicks eyes stay glued to your face, watching every little expression closely while he eases your through the waves of pleasure. and only when the trembles subside and your hands slowly fall from his shoulders does he remove his fingers from your cunt.
pressing his lips to yours again dick groans, damp fingers brushing your aching clit causing you to jerk.
“dick—"
“shh..m’not going to finger you anymore..” the acrobat promises, warm hand skirting up your side and palming your tit for a moment.
“then..?”
“i want to fuck you.” a little smile gets sent your way before he’s moving to hover you completely.
“need to be inside you.” he adds, pressing his hips against you. letting you feel just how badly he wanted you, the outline of his cock hard beneath the fabric of his jeans. it made your pussy achy all over again.
so you nod as you meet his gaze. you needed it too.
those words are enough for dick, hands undoing his jeans and shoving them down with his boxers in one go while you fumble to take his shirt off. when he’s stripped down he settles back above you, one hand on the side of your head—the other gripping the base of his cock and rubbing it against your slit.
biting his inner cheek dick slow presses in, a groan of satisfaction leaving as he sinks into your warm heat. the second he bottoms out dick holds still, his other hand falling beside your head. shoulders shaking as he tries to hold back from thrusting or worse cumming prematurely. and you’re no help either, walls clamping down around his thickness. greedily trying to suck him deeper.
“god..” claiming your lips to keep his head from spinning off his shoulders dick slowly pulls out before sinking back in with a shaky sigh.
“feels good..” dick rasps before stealing another kiss, rutting into you jerkily. each slide of his cock in your velvety walls sending shudders up his spine, he so badly wanted to come already. to spill right into your pussy and fuck it into you till you felt it days later.
burying his face into your shoulder the man huffs, feeling you grab at his back. scratching faint lines over the muscled flesh—leaving your own mark that he’d proudly show off later.
a shudder runs up your spine when he angles his hips just right, cockhead nudging that sweet spot that makes your eyes squeeze shut “nn..dick..”
“yeah,” repeating the action, his gaze glued to your face the acrobat smiles lightly “right there sweet girl?”
“mhm..” you’d roll your eyes if you weren’t consumed by brain numbing pleasure, his speed increasing gradually. heavy balls slapping your ass with each firm snap of his hips, but he won’t cum till you do. even if his balls feel like they’re going to explode.
“..” panting you meet his gaze, baby blues dark and heavy—consumed by his pleasure blown pupils. his slightly battered skin (something you hadn’t noticed until now) shining with a slight sheen of sweat, inky locks clinging to his forehead. he looked absolutely delicious.
“wanna cum inside you..mark you up from the inside baby.” dick manages to squeeze out between heavy breaths, forehead meeting yours as his thrusts grow less and less coordinated and more sloppy.
“mm..yes..want it..”
his hips stutter but he regains himself “cum first then sweet thing..then i’ll fill you up good..” it was a promise. one he was so going to keep.
his words help stoke the fire in your tummy, the idea of being pumped full of his seed making your brain fog. a few more sloppy thrusts and you’re cuming, hands sliding to the back of his head—tugging his hair.
the feeling of your fingers in his hair paired with the tight cocoon your cunt provides rips an embarrassing whimper from him.
“fuck..” burying his face into your shoulder dick squeezes his eyes shut, his own orgasm right there.
“gonna..” three more stuttery thrusts and he’s hit home base, throaty whine bubbling out as he cums. painting your trembling walls with his seed.
he stays like that for a few beats longer, listening to the way you breathe softly—catching your own stray breath.
“wanna live in you.”
raising a brow you scoff at his words, a heat rising on your face “shut up.”
a laugh leaves the man “i mean it. wanna live inside you so i don’t have to leave.” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.
“that’d be romantic if it didn’t scare me.” you retort with a dry snort, pulling him closer until you’re nose to nose.
“pft.” dick rolls his eyes, a hand moving to brush some stray hairs from your face.
“i really did miss you,” the man utters “like so fucking much.”
“we texted almost every day.” you muse, nipping at his bottom lip gently
“not the same. didn’t see this pretty face in person.” he mumbles before kissing your nose and pushing himself up. letting his softening cock slip from your cunt “i’ll run us a bath. then i’ll fuck you again.” he hums, patting your knee as he gets up—naked and all.
“grayson—”
“what?” a lopsided grin is sent your way as he saunters to the connected bathroom “m’gonna make sure you feel everything bit of longing i feel baby.”
that too was a promise. one he was more than happy to deliver.
𝜗ৎ yikes—this is like one of the longest things i’ve written so far and i feel like it flopped jsjs still posting though so, hope you enjoy <3.
⏾ also how’s the setup with the pictures n stuff? not too much?
⋮ mdni, mention of tummy bulge, fem reader!, mention of bondage ..lmk if i missed anything.
☆ not proofread
a- aftercare
it’s second nature for the super man. the second you melt into the bed, breathless and exhausted he’s up. running you a warm bath and scooping your form up with ease. once you’re squeaky clean he’s putting you in his softest t-shirt and putting you back in bed (after he’s changed the sheets of course)
“i’ll get some water sweetheart, you stay here.”
b- body part
clarks a humble man. i dont think he’s got a specific favorite part of his own body but if he had to find something—i’d say his hands. he’s a strong man and he definitely uses his hands a lot. saving the world, carding them through your hair when the two of you are tangled in bed talking. or when he’s stretching you open with em, watching you writhe and squirm.
as for you i think it’s your face. he’s a sap so just the simple sight of you is enough. your beautiful eyes, soft lips—the curve of your nose. just everything. plus, he really enjoys how it looks scrunched in pleasure or painted with his seed.
c- cum
i think it depends. if you two are making love then i feel like he finds himself more likely to cum inside of you if you’re okay with that. if you’re giving him the blowjob(practically everytime your lips are on him) of his life then he’s busting in your mouth or face. clark kent is definitely a situational cummer.
the cum itself is thick, a milky white with a potent tang. he is a super so tasting him after a while is rather normal. thankfully it’s a good taste and you like to tease him about it.
d- dirty secret
clark likes watching your tummy bulge with his cock :0. it’s so filthy and downright sexy to the super. loves to gently press the bulge, watching how you twitch and cry out.
“feel me there sweet girl? so deep in you..”
e- experience
i don’t think clark has a lot of experience beneath his belt prior to you. but he’s no 100% clueless. definitely is a fast learner though.
f-favorite position
standing. he likes how he can hold you with ease, how tightly you cling to him when he’s fucking up into you. pressing you to the wall so firmly that you can’t do anything but rely on him to keep you up cause you sure as hell couldn’t.
also reallyyyy enjoys fucking you full nelson. holding your legs up—making you look at your pussy while he ruins it.
gummys bonus :
“go—lly sweetheart…” your body jerks with each thrust, clarks hands behind your head. forcing you to watch the way his cock slides in and out of your cunt at a mind numbing pace.
your thighs are aching, burning from the stretch and the way he’s got you folded. you can’t breathe—can’t think. his cock is so thick, bullying into your cunt like it belongs there.
“n-nng..clark..” you’re warbling random words and his name in a jumble of incoherent babbles and he loves it. it’s so easy to take care of you like this, to make you take what you were practically made for.
g- goofy
he’s pretty serious but if you say something to make him flustered he might pull out a few awkward chuckles. or if he’s so high off you then some giggles here and there but a relatively serious atmosphere.
h- hair
i feel like he keeps himself neatly trimmed out of personal preference. he’s not exactly huge on being so unkept that’s it’s almost too much so every few weeks or so he’ll make sure to trim up nice and neat.
as for you the man could absolutely positively care less. he’ll eat you out bald and full bush. pussy is pussy and he’s not a bitch. will be a sucker for little designs though—it’s a sexy little surprise but in general he really doesn’t care.
i- intimacy
it’s clark kent. lover boy of the fucking year so intimacy is so natural. he’s always finding a way to hold your hands or kiss you and mutter the sweetest, tooth rotting words into your ear despite how fucked out you are on the his cock, fingers or mouth. anything and everything is intimate with him—small or not and you definitely feel it.
j- jack off
i don’t really see clark as the masturbation type the older he gets. i feel like he’s too caught up with work or y’know—saving the world that rubbing one out doesn’t exactly cross his mind. but, but if for some reason(evil will it) and he finds himself with the time to simple relax then maybe. especially if he can smell you around his apartment—the smell of your perfume clinging to every possible crevice of home that his hand moves on its own and suddenly his pants are around his ankles, head tipped off the back of the couch while he strokes himself slowly.
but it’s not something that happens frequently;).
k- kink
tummy bulge (as stated above) and to be honest i think he’s got a tiny thing for cum eating. cleaning his seed from your swole pussy makes his head light, cock already hardening again as he laps at your drooly cunt.
also a bit into roleplay. oh? you just had superman ‘save’ your life and want to repay him with your cunt? he’s bashful (or so he plays) but how he can say no when you bat those lashes at him so sweetly?
bonus mention: blindfolds, but on him :0. likes the idea or relying on his senses. how he can smell your pussy before you’re even seated on his face— or the way his breath catches when you kiss up his cock and tease the tip. yeah—he definitely picked up a blindfold on a trip.
l- location
situational to be honest. normally he would prefer his home, it’s the easiest and most convenient place to have his way with you. but he’s not too scared to try other locations, especially if you’ve got him strung high. brought him lunch at work only to tease him by letting your hand rub his thigh in a way he knows is purposeful? he’s asking jimmy to cover so he can walk you to your car—only to have you folded in the backseat while he eats your pussy like he’s got all the time in the world(he doesn’t and in fact got a good chastising session from perry about tardiness and leaving work on his colleagues or something other.)
so it’s totally up the circumstances but he’d never turn down a simple home fucking.
m- motivation
being with you is all he truly needs especially the sappy, domestic life you both share. its enough to get his heart pounding and blood rushing south.
n- no’s
breathplay. he heard bruce talking about it once—wasn’t a purposeful eavesdropping but it made his stomach curl. he couldn’t really see himself doing something like that to you.
and what was oliver talking about? cucking? yeah no. you’re his, he’s yours and the idea of watching you get fucked by some other man? pft, he’d rather swallow kryptonite.
o- oral
lockjaw is afraid of this man. he’s such a pussy lover so oral is most definitely on the table. loves lazy days spent just lavishing your cunt, it’s for you sure but it’s mainly for him. loves the way you tug his hair or how his glasses almost slip when your hips jerk unexpectedly cause he’s already pulled three orgasms from your poor pussy and you’re so overstimulated you could cry (maybe you were). will make it better with soft kisses to your clit and a gentle smile.
“you taste so good i can’t help myself sometimes sweet thing.”
p- pace
typical there isn’t a reason he should be rushing when he’s taking care of you so his pace is well measured (may dwell on the pussy eating a bit longer but he can’t help that) and he makes use of every single second he has with you.
though—if you’re both on short time he can be a little quicker. more rushed and sloppy movements because at the very least he needs to get you off, even if he’s forced to walk around with blue balls the rest of the day. firm rutting that makes your legs shake by the sides of his head.
q- quickie
doable. not preferred but he can do it. especially if he can’t help himself.
r- risk
open to low- medium risks. you’re want to ride him while he’s on a call? that’s fine, he can be quiet enough. fucking in your car —or a dark alleyway with your back to the wall while he holds you and fucks you on his cock (ensuring you’re not touching any of the gross shit) and his back is blocking the sight of you split on his cock.
and the riskiest place being bruce’s bed(it had been an accident). it was a large four poster that neither of you even wanted to know how much it could have cost. but god was it perfect. he had fucked you in so many positions—not to mention accidentally splitting the beautifully crafted japanese wood in half.
the billionaire was less than pleased when he found out and clark found a very steep bill placed on his desk the next morning at work.
s- stamina
otherworldly. can go for hours without so much as tiring but is mindful of you and your human limits. if you’re not human then expect long long sessions.
t- toy
doesn’t have any himself at all and has no opinion on owning one to be frank. if you have something though and you’re interested in adding it to your sex life then he’s down to try.
u- unfair
i don’t think clark can purposely be unfair to you. now is that to say he won’t overstimulate you because you’re asking in such a syrupy way, scratching at his back with each roll of his hips? no. but that’s not really him right? you begged for it.
v- volume
rough grunts and firm moans—can feel his chest rumbling. he’s not scared to moan in your ear—or your pussy because he is enjoying himself. sometimes though a little whine may slip through when he’s really, really into it. he’ll cough to cover it though and bury his face into your neck, hips snapping forward so your teasing words get all choked up as pleasure overwhelms you.
w- wild card
wants to try bondage. saw a picture once in a porn magazine when he was in college and it practically nailed its way into his brain. will probably bring it up when he’s just rambling and if you’re interested will be excited to try.
x-ray
a bit over average length (maybe 7 inches full mast) — not monstrous persay but definitely something that’ll wreck your cunt if not careful. uncut . has a few veins that run along the thickness. big heavy balls that seem full constantly.
y- yearning
c’mon. come on. man wrote yearning 101. you occupy his thoughts 24/7–dirty or not. he finds it incredibly easy to love you and love on you
z- zzz
takes a while for him to knock out so he’ll spend his time cleaning you and the bed up (or whatever he had you folded over) before just holding you. finds comfort in your soft breathing as you doze off against his chest. will watch you for a bit, raking his fingers through your hair or place the faintest kisses to your skin to ensure you’re real before he allows himself to relax and finally rest.
⭑ comments not needed but appreciated <3
please don’t be shy to request ! i’m getting back into writing after being awole for over a year so sometimes my brain can’t really..come up with fresh ideas or ideas in general so i’d love to know what you guys would like to see<3
┊ fem! reader, pussy eating, fingering, girls kissing, hints to a blowjob.
☆ 944 words.
you’re sweating, body sticking to the cool silken sheets like a fly on a paper trap. it hot—you’re hot. and your head is so fuzzy, spinning in circles while your thighs tremble.
“mm..she is so sweet grayson..like a nectarine..” kory mumbles against your folds, a airy giggle following her words. she’s between your legs—keeping them open with her soft hands. you’re at her gentle mercy, taking what she hands out with shaky breaths.
“is that right baby?” dick smiles from the chair he’s seated in, hands folded over his lap as he watches. his cock throbs beneath them but he doesn’t make any moves to touch himself, instead keeping his eyes trained on you both.
“ahuh,” kory hums, licking up and down like you were a sweet treat. a feeling of satisfaction blossoming in her chest when your back arches and you gasp out. her green eyes twinkle with amusement, tongue lapping at your dripping entrance.
“kory..” you utter shakily—fingers clenching and unclenching around the sheets. the woman between your legs only lifts a perfectly plucked brow, her hands shifting beneath your hips and lifting.
“jesus sweetheart you’re gonna eat her soul out if you keep it up.” dick muses quietly, fingers just barely brushing his groin. his cock is uncomfortably hard against his jeans, had been since his girlfriend laid you in their bed.
it was sexy—seeing kory being so dominant with you. even more seeing just how pliant you were for them. it was something the couple had fantasized for a long while yet had never acted on. you were a close friend—best even. someone they had grown close to over the past two years.
hell, it was always you three. and they thought they had made it obvious—everyone practically could tell how much they liked you. well, everyone but you. so when you had been invited over for movies and snacks you thought nothing of it. you three had a long mission that week so a relaxing movie didn’t sound terrible to end your week. your agreement like music to their ears.
and now you were here. sprawled on their bed like a gift from heaven with kory eating your pussy. it was enough to make him bust in his jeans like a teenager.
the acrobat watches your face closely, watching the way your lashes flutter and your legs try to close around kory’s head. his girlfriend letting her hands roam your chest while she eats you out at a slow, drawn out pace. like her goal isn’t to make you cum but to simply lavish your pussy.
and it probably is. kory was a giver—dick learned that from the first time they had sex. when she had given him the best—nastiest head of his fucking life in some dirty alley after they had just cracked some bad guys less than an hour prior. pretty green eyes flowing with nothing but pure joy. she could give and give and that’d be exactly what she wanted.
“mhm..” kory breathes softly against your folds before she’s pressing two fingers into you. watching the digits sink into your cunt with little to no resistance. her saliva and your natural essence providing a good bit of lubricant.
pulling off your cunt with a soft mmp! sound the redhead licks her lips, taking in your pleasure painted face as she climbs back up your body. her lips mesh against yours in a messy kiss and she tastes like nothing but pussy. a choked moan swallowed by her as she steals what little breath you could conjure, fingers still working your pussy.
the girl kisses like she’s claiming you as hers, her tongue running over your teeth and gums sensually. you’re forced to break away from the kiss when you really can’t breath. kory laughing softly although she doesn’t seem much deterred, her lips meeting your neck, tongue slowly licking a bead of sweat from your skin.
then you feel the bed sink and your eyes meet his. his usual electric blue eyes a deep azure pool now, pupils blown wide. and his hand—hovering over your bare chest before he gently grabs at the plush flesh. humming at the weight in his palm “soft.”
he chuckles when you arch into his touch, biting his lip habitually. he’s so hard it hurts, his gaze flitting to your parted lips. he’s wonders what they’d feel like wrapped around his cock—how warm your mouth would be.
“y/n,” kory catches his gaze, smiling subtly and pulling her fingers from your cunt despite the sound that leaves you.
“y-yes.?”
the girl doesn’t say anything, shifting around the bed until dick is now in your place and you’re between his muscled thighs.
“have you ever..” kory bats her lashes, running a hand over dicks erection. the question makes your face hot—
“o-of course i have.” you retort “i’m not a virgin kory.”
“well—do you wanna.” she snorts, tugging his jeans open and pulling the zipper down.
glancing at dick who’s tanned skin is dusted pink you swallow, pressing your thighs together “…”
“he won’t bite,” kory murmurs as dick eases his jeans and boxers down in one go. and god, is he hard. his cock slaps against his lower abdomen, leaking a small puddle into the curve of his abs.
“unless you maybe—want him to.”
glancing back to the man you’re gaze moves to his cock, watching how it twitches and leaks even more. hell it was the hottest thing you’d seen since you met superman in person.
“i—how does he like it.?” you manage.
the question makes the two exchange looks, kory running a hand up your bare back.
“i’ll show you.”
uh..yeah—this was almost longer but .. i haven’t been enjoying my writing lolz
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