pairing: clark kent x fem!reader. reader is a detective from gotham city police department.
summary: ever since clark has ran into you one morning while writing about a case (that you were working on) involving the two sister cities, heās been obsessed. calling you, finding excuses to talk to you, showing up out of nowhere. you found it amusing but never indulged as you always prioritised your work and found yourself too busy. until one night, you let him take you out on a date.
tags: smut, p in v, unprotected sex (not advised), kissing, touching, destruction of objects, hyperspermia, clark calls reader āgood girlā, love struck!clark, oral (fem receiving), cum eating kinda hehe, grinding, doggy style, big d!clark, overstimulation, stomach bulge, teasing, awkward!clark, super down bad for the reader AND freaked out, heās pretty pathetic in this lol
Clark has never liked Gotham. To him, it was the epitome of corrupt, hopeless cities. The smell was awful, the people had no hope, everything was dark and gloomyā just not his cup of tea.
Of course, heād go as superman when needed, or as Clark when covering stories that interlink the two sister cities: Gotham and Metropolis. But he never actively sought it out, and never looked forward to visiting the city.
It was safe to say that while Clark was thrilled to be covering a story finally exposing some deeply rooted corruption, he dreaded having to go into Gotham. He had spent the whole morning in his Metropolis apartment trying to ignore these thoughts, just so itād be less of a pain for him and he could get stuff done.
Clark passed by the Daily Planet, huffing to himself because today and the many following days heād have to go to Gotham City Police Department. He stopped to get some coffee, trying to get himself into a light spiritā because being moody about going over to that wretched city just wasnāt going to get anything done.
First, Clark started with the straight-on facts like how long this corruption had been going for, who was involved, etcetera. He talked to some cops who have been one of the ones to directly expose everything. He wrote things down, he interviewed people.
A corporation operating between both citiesā big people involved, money laundering, illegal weapons being moved between the two. It was a lot, and Clark wanted to get down to every little detail.
He had tried requesting public records, and interviewing certain detectives that were still working on the active investigation, but it was hard because even his Kent charm couldnāt get him far in this field. A lot of things were still confidential, and some just didnāt want to waste time talking to some investigative journalist from Metropolis.
Luckily, he had managed to find victims and witnesses that were demanding answers near the precinct and the site where all the crime went down. They were glad to see that at least someone in a position was talking about this, trying to bring light to everything that wasnāt revealed yet.
Clark listened to every word, recording the whole interview after gaining permission from the people he was talking to. He even wrote a few things down into his notepad, determined to get things done efficiently.
After a long day in Gotham, he decided to treat himself to some coffee again as the sun dipped into the sky, casting an orange-pinkish hue. It took some time trying to navigate the dreary city, but he did end up finding the nearest cafe after a couple of minutes.
Finally getting his order, Clark stepped out of the store, immediately hit by the stench of Gotham. He opened it up, the warmth of the cup filling his fingers. Even though caffeine had no effect on him, trying to blend in as a human after all these years really did catch up to him and it just became habit.
He was already thinking about getting back to his apartment back in Metropolis, a place thatās small but cozy, and a place that smelled much nicer than the city he was currently in. Gosh, he wanted to leave so badly, his feet picking up the pace instinctively.
Clark was so distracted by his thoughts that he didnāt even seem to notice you rounding the corner. Thankfully due to his reflexes, he managed to abruptly stop before spilling the coffee all over himself, and also from bumping into you.
āSorry,ā You immediately mumble, tired eyes flickering up to meet his bright and blue ones. You register the way his pupils blow wide, the way a faint flush creeps up his face, the way his hand comes up behind his neck.
However, it doesnāt phase you much. All these restless nights have caused you to dismiss the things that didnāt matter much to you.
āNo, no- itās fine. Itās my bad, really.ā Clark said quickly, gaze scanning over you. His eyes lingered on your outfit, that very clearly signalled to the fact you were one of Gothamās detectives.
āI wasnāt watching where I was going, too focused on getting homeāā he laughed, almost awkwardly, and at that you just blink slowly, as if you were wondering when heād stop talking so you could move on with your day.
āRight. Well, I better get going. Have a good day.ā You state, nodding at him. Your heels click against the dirty pavement, and Clark just stares at you for a few seconds before running after.
āWait, wait! You work at GCPD, donāt you? Iām an investigative journalist, currently writing about theāā
Stopping, you turn to him, and finish his sentence. You already knew what case he was talking about. It was the biggest one as of now, the one everybody has been talking about.
āYouāre not the only investigative journalist we get,ā you mention, looking down at the name tag on his blazer. āMr. Kent.ā
āI see. I work for the Daily Planet, and I really want to get everything I can on this case. I think the people of both Metropolis and Gotham deserve to know, especially with a case like this.ā Clark says firmly, straightening his back. You can see the glint of determination flashing in his eyes through those glasses.
You stare at him for a little while, before responding. āI understand, but I can only tell you certain things as it is still an active investigation.ā
At that, at your subtle words hinting towards the fact youāll be of help, a gleam of hope now flickers in his eyes. āThank you. Thank you very much,ā
You nod, beginning to walk again. He follows after you like a lost puppy, eager to finally get something to write aboutā and also talk to this pretty detective, of course.
Itās been a few weeks. The active investigation no longer burnt hot like it did before, and it was clear certain people were trying to cover it up and distract the public from the truth.
The police were no help either. Everything was still kept confidential, only ever leaking a few vague pieces of information every now and then.
Clark was still focused on getting to the bottom of this. He spent some days in Gotham, some days at the Daily Planet writing a couple of drafts and getting advice from his colleagues.
But one thing that still did burn as brightly as it did all those weeks agoā was Clarkās interest in you. Sometimes, heād head on over to the one city he hated with a passion, just so he could see you. Heād find excuses to talk to you, and those excuses got more silly as time went on.
As for you, it was amusing. This clumsy and awkward journalist from Metropolis absolutely head over heels for you. You never leaned into it or anything, too focused on work to really do anything.
One of Gothamās best detectives, and you were determined to live up to the title. Constantly busy, working on dangerous cases, having to make morally grey choicesā¦
It just didnāt feel like you and Clark would be a match, at least thatās how you saw it. He was all sunshine, always saw the good in peopleā completely incompatible with your traits.
One thing the both of you had in common was your love for your work. But whilst Clark lived in his work, you drowned in it.
The sound of the old door in your office creaking was what snapped you out of your thoughts. One of your colleagues, a fellow detective walked in. She placed a cup of coffee on your desk, almost ritualistically. The both of you had become coffee addicts since the job, it was needed to stay awake during all the late nights.
āThanks.ā You mutter, hands coming up to rub at your sleepless eyes. The dark circles under your eyes was just proof of the mental and physical toll this job took on you.
āNo problem, detective.ā Your colleague forces a smile, but itās quite hard to when her facial muscles have all stiffened. āThereās this tall journalist outside waiting for you. He wants to come in.ā
āOh, that must be Kent.ā you drawled, unsurprised by the news.
āHe seems to have taken a liking to you.ā The other detective finally cracks a genuine grin, taking a sip of her coffee. āHeās cute.ā
Running your fingers through your hair, you manage a dry laugh. āDonāt.ā
The detective takes a step closer to your messy desk. āI can tell heād be definitely more than eager to help you unwind one of these nights.ā
You finally stand, walking around your desk. āYou havenāt lost your sharp edge, even after all these years. I have to admit, itās nice having his bright energy around, especially now during these times.ā
āWhat can I say?ā the detective tilts her head, eyes flicking to the door where a very broad presence waited. His silhouette stood unwavering through the window of the door, waiting patiently yet nervously. āYouāre gonna miss him when itās all over.ā
āHis company, maybe. But Metropolisā pretty boy and a workaholic detective donāt exactly work together.ā you declare, heading towards the door.
Your colleague follows after you, but lingers at the door. āIn your worldview, at least.ā With that final statement, she opens the door, leaving.
Clark steps in after her, handing you a cup of coffee. Only then does he notice youāve already got one on your desk. āSorry, I just wanted to get you some. I was getting one for me, then I thought of you andāā
āItās fine. I can have both. Iāll probably need both.ā you smile lightly, entertained by his awkward rambling.
The first half of the early morning hour went professionally, and the two of you managed to get a lot done. Even as an investigative journalist, you have to sayā Clark was pretty good at this, and already carried a few traits of a detective.
Since these past couple of weeks, Clark had tried countless of times to ask you out. You always politely turned him down. Today, you expected him to try again.
But he didnāt. And he hasnāt for a while, like he respected your boundaries. But with the way he looks at you, so adoringly, with so much aweā it was clear heād try again if you let him.
You glanced at your calendar which sat in front of you. For the first time in a while, you have a free day during the weekdays. Normally, you wouldāve spent that day catching up on any missed work or something.
You debated it in your mind for a long time, wondering if you should let yourself have a break. Maybe you could finally let him treat you to dinner. But it wouldnāt be a date, youād make sure of that. You wouldnāt drink or do anything impulsive, youād act responsiblyā you told yourself.
Heād better not walk you home or anything, or do anything thatās so him, it might just loosen up all your defences. And you couldnāt afford that now, not with an active investigation you were currently working on.
Turning to him, you state it simply. āAre you free on Wednesday?ā
Clark lights up, and it takes everything in him not to freak out too much in his seat. āYes, I am actually.ā
āMaybe we could go to dinner, like youāve been talking about.ā You remark nonchalantly, trying to keep it casual as your arms cross over your chest.
āSoundsā¦ good.ā He attempts to hold in a gulp, he canāt believe this is actually happening. āWe can discuss everything there too.ā Clark adds, picking up on your casual tone, trying to maintain eye contact so he doesnāt seem too nervous.
The sound of ringing pulls you both out of the moment. The two of you share a look, and he begins to pack up and leave so you could take the call.
āIāll call you.ā Clark notes before he goes through the door.
Stepping out of your front door, youāre greeted with the sight of Clark waiting flutteringly. The breath is knocked out of his lungs the moment he sees you, looking effortlessly gorgeous.
Heās nervous. Why wouldnāt he be? Nervous to mess this all up, now that heās finally taking you out for dinner. Yet after laying eyes on you, on you actually coming out here, willingly doing thisā brings ease to his heart.
āHello.ā Clark said, trying to sound composed.
āHey.ā You respond cleanly, walking on over to him. He had no ride to take you both there, but from what heās told you earlier, the place is quite close.
The entire night, Clark couldnāt rip his stare away from you. His eyes couldnāt get enough of you, as if heād never be seeing you again after this night. The two of you settled comfortably into the dinner, no longer tense or awkward as before (which was mostly Clark.)
You, however, loosened up more than you wouldāve liked. You drank a bit despite yourself, and just talking to Clark felt like the weight on your shoulders lifted. He was pretty good at distracting you from your busy life, you have to give him that.
And maybe, just maybe, you needed this. You needed an escape. But even then, as you finished your food, you knew not to let anything escalate. Because if it did, Clark would probably come back for more. And you canāt give him more.
Trying to ignore the looks he kept giving you, it was proving very difficult. The tension between the two of you had lingered in the air, almost tangible. Hovering and waiting till one of you finally acknowledged it. Clark clearly had by nowā just holding himself back from doing anything about it.
Clark didnāt drink much normally, it never affected him the same way as it did with humans. But seeing you nurse a coupleā looking more relaxed than heās ever seen you, made him order a drink for himself.
āI didnāt know you drink, Kent.ā You smile lazily, staring at him through the rim of your glass.
āSometimes,ā Clark lied without a hitch, taking the glass from the waiter.
Your eyes narrowed, but you didnāt call him out on it. Being a detective has sharpened you, but being tipsy has frayed your edges.
āIāll walk you home after this.ā Clark notifies, taking a sip of his drink rather slowly as if heās only ever done this a few times.
āYou know I can walk myself home,ā you pause, setting your cocktail glass down. āI know these streets well.ā
āI know. I just want to be with you for longer.ā He replies, and at that a silence falls over you both again.
Even the walk to your place held not much of a conversation. Just casual remarks about random things occasionally. It wasnāt to break the silence, it was just like saying whatever was on your mind almost involuntarilyā like you never expected an answer or anything.
By the time the both of you had reached the entrance to your condominium, neither of you had made an immediate move. Clark stayed, and so had you. His hands were in his pockets, clearly in no rush.
Your expression was as calm and unreadable as ever, but deep inside you could feel yourself slipping. If Clark stayed like that for longer, you werenāt sure youād be able to keep yourself in checkā¦
His blue eyes traced your appearance reverently behind his glassesā time had worn off his nervousness, and all that was left behind was this. Whatever āthisā is. But you knew well what it is.
You expected the usual soft sentence to fill the silence and end the night: maybe a sweet āGoodnight,ā or a hopeful āCan I see you again soon?ā
Clark took a step closer, and as much as your body screamed to create distanceā you didnāt move.
Where was this side of Clark Kent hiding all this time? He seemed so sure of what he wanted, and it was crystal clear he was no longer going to dance around his feelings.
āI donāt want this night to end with just me dropping you off. If it did, I wouldnāt be able to forgive myself.ā
Your breath hitched at his words.
He continued, voice dropping softly. āIāve been thinking about you sinceā¦ well I guess you could say since we met,ā He laughed, hand scratching the back of his neck.
āTonight was really good. I had a great time.ā You blurt out, unable to stop yourself. All that serves to do is help him get his point out.
āIām glad, really. Seeing you all relaxed, like we donāt have to just be the journalist and the detectiveā¦ made me realize that I donāt want to keep beating around the bush.ā
āClark, I-ā He cuts you off, something he wouldāve never done. But with this newfound determination, heās not gonna let anything get in the way of saying what he needs to.
āIād really like to kiss you. If you let me, of course.ā Clark smiled sheepishly.
You blink, finding all your walls that youāve so desperately tried to keep up come crashing down.
Standing up on the tips of your feet, you tug hard onto his tie, pulling him down sharply so you could kiss him. Clark gasps at the sudden movements, but then leans into it as if heās been dying for this moment.
His big hands grab onto your waist, dragging you against him. They hold on tightly as if you might disappear the second he lets go. Your blouse scrunches up in his palmsā he surprisingly has a strong grip for such a mild-mannered reporter.
Clarkās lips fit perfectly against yours, and they donāt stop moving even as you try to catch your breath. One hand reaches up and tangles in your hair, attempting not to tug too hard and hurt you.
You manage to pull back, beginning to murmur against his lips. āYouāve been working up to this all night, havenāt you Kent? Sure you can handle it?ā
Clark nods rapidly, like an eager puppy desperate to get its treat. He brings you into another kiss, this time more open-mouthed. His hands and yours move over each other with a hunger that can no longer be controlled.
The moment you feel it pressed against you, undeniably hard and throbbing, it pulled you to your senses. The both of you were still outside your condominium, where anybody could see how you two were making out like desperate teens.
āClark,ā you breathe out, his name coming out of your throat almost like a whine. āShit.ā
āYeahā¦ shit,ā he mumbles against your skin, burying his face in your neck, embracing your warmth.
āMy apartmentās on the 18th floor.ā You say, eyes searching his. He nods, biting his lip. This is really happening, and he canāt wait.
Clark grabs your hand, and the two of you try to act normal as you make your way to the lift. The whole way up was barely restrained desireā the both of you had decency to not be all over one another in a public lift was cameras.
As soon as the lift doors opened, and after you both had slipped out of your shoes and made it past the door, you were crashing your lips against his again. He groaned into the kiss, pulling you back against his body as if heās been starving for it.
Your hands immediately start to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off with urgency. Clarkās hands roamed down your back as the two of you stumbled through your apartment. Finally making it to your room, Clark walks you backwards towards the bed.
You pull back to take him in, eyes blowing wide the second your gaze was met with the sight of his body. Holy shit, you thought. All sharp lines defined himā broad shoulders, thick pecs, arms carved from granite, a v-line that could killā¦
All of this, hidden within a passive and unassuming reporter. You couldnāt believe your eyes. You just hit the jackpot.
āFuckā¦ been hiding all of this under those button-ups?ā You mutter in awe, and he blushes under your gaze. You could feel your body getting a very visceral reaction, dampening the cotton of your panties.
āSorry,ā Clark said in a quieter tone, a little embarrassed. Still, even under the heat of your gaze he can feel himself pulsing at your words. āIs it a lot?ā
You raised an eyebrow, wondering why heās apologizing but at this point youāre too far deep to really care. You shove him back onto the bed with a surprising amount of strength, climbing on top of him with ease as you attacked his mouth and worked to get rid of more of his clothes.
Clark let out a moan, hands settling at your hips. He pulled them down to connect with his, as he very much needed the friction down there. He could tell you wanted anything but gentle right now.
His hands venture lower before gripping your ass, pulling you down against him as he grinds up against you erratically. He was so hard it was bordering on painful.
The feeling of his clothed bulge rubbing up against your already leaking pussy was insane. It created such a delicious friction, causing a sharp whine to escape your mouth. Clark swallowed the sound, using his grasp on your hair to tilt your head to the side so his tongue could dive in at a better angle.
He abruptly rips himself away from you, then flips your positions effortlessly. Clark moves down your body, impatiently tugging away at your remaining pieces of clothes.
He released a whine at just the sight of you ready for him. His hands bracket your thighs, pushing them apart to make room for his head to settle between them. Not wasting a single second, he presses his mouth to your clit.
The first contact sent a jolt through you, thighs threatening to close but he held them apart gently. He sucks firmly, never too hard, but just enough.
Clark pulls back to look up at you. āYou taste sāgood.ā He mumbles, already drunk on your pussy. His tongue licks into you repeatedly, and he showed no signs of stopping any time soon. He could literally be here all day.
He then gathers your slick together by swiping his tongue up, nose prodding against your sensitive spot over and over again. His lips, chin and even the tip of his nose is already a messā and heās relishing in it.
Your thighs begin to shake violently, and he doesnāt stop until you finally let yourself go on his tongue. He doesnāt let a single drop go to waste, still staying in place and licking away until he was certain he got it all.
When Clark finally moves up, he kisses your lips lightly. Youāve gotten quite needy after the way he just dragged that whole process out.
āDo you need some water?ā He asks, trying to be a gentleman still.
āI need you to fuck me, Kent.ā You whisper, hips bucking up to meet his even with the lingering aftershocks of your release.
His blue eyes seem to darken, hair falling into them messily. Heās so gone for you and everything you do or say seems to make it worse. He slowly and methodically pulls off his belt, dismissing it to the side.
He completely takes off his trousers and boxers, not wanting to half-ass this. Clarkās cock springs free, his hips involuntarily snapping forward as the confines of his clothes are lifted.
Your eyes widen, your hand immediately clasping over your mouth at the sight of it. Thick, long, and about to ruin you for anybody else very, very soon. He stroke himself once, his tip already leaking rather steadilyā desperate to be wrapped up in you.
He leans down, one hand beside your head and the other holding onto the headboard for balance. āYou gonna be okay?ā
Clark guides himself to your entrance, the pink tip bumping against your swollen clit during the process. The moment he pushes just the head inā a cry is freed from you, and a groan leaves his lips. The both of you cursed when he started to push himself further in.
He already began to stretch you so beautifully, your walls clenching around him like a vice. By the time he was fully buried in you, it felt like too much and he hasnāt even started moving.
āToo bigā too much!ā you whimper.
āShh. Itās okay. You can take it, I know you can.ā Clark reassures, and he starts to move.
Every thrust had him knocking the air out of you, pressing against that spongy spot deep in you. A little bulge formed in your lower tummy every time Clark bottomed out, and he couldnāt help pressing his hand against it.
The pace quickly got faster and harderā deep, powerful thrusts that had the headboard banging against the wall. The hunger that was once restrained was now freed, his grip crushing. Clark would break your headboard with the impact of his thrusts and hand if he kept it up.
You, usually so quiet and low-toned, moaned shamelessly. Urging him deeper, your nails scraped his back and shoulders, getting him to release a low sound and drive in further.
By the time you reached your second climax, Clark was still not doneā and hadnāt even cum himself yet. He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips back, and pushed in on one thrust. You were so wet and tight for him, as if you had been made for this.
His hand came down on your head, pushing your face into a pillow after you got a little too loud. It would still take a while until Clark would finally release, so he decided to drag out your own.
Your hands held onto the sheets, trying to prolong your release as he asked you to, but it was proving hard. To make things worse, Clarkās pace didnāt let up, not even for a single minute.
His hand went between your bodies and started rubbing your clit in tight circles, the dual sensation causing your back to arch uncontrollably. You were already teetering on the edge, and any second now youād blow.
He pulled out of nowhere, gripping himself as he began to rub his swollen head up and down your slick folds. He was panting against your neck, teasing not only you but himself. His cock began to coat in your wetness the longer he dragged the both of your pleasure out.
Right when you started to beg, crying out for it, he slammed in hard. Finally, you came, milking his cock deliciously.
āIām gonnaā gānaāā Clark could barely get the words out, balls drawing tight, and with a final thrust, he let himself go. His seed filled your walls over and over again, and he kept pushing through it, fucking it deeper into you.
He couldnāt stop, rope after rope flooding in you hot and heavy. So much so you could actually feel your tummy swelling again from the sheer volume as he pumped you full.
Your toes curled, the feeling of his thick release overwhelming your senses. It leaked around him no matter how much he kept thrusting to try and keep it in you. He was moaning against your ear, embarrassed yet turned on at the same time, and all you could utter was his name.
He kept pulsing, non stop, until finally finishing with a long groan. Clark stayed in you for a few more minutes, the both of you trying so hard to catch your breath.
āGood.. girl.ā Clark managed to murmur the praise in your ear. He finally pulled out of you slowly, whining at the loss. A lot of his cum spilled out of you, soaking the sheets.
āClarkā¦ what the hell was that.ā you pant, flipping yourself onto your back so you could look at him.
āSorryā¦ I shouldāve warned you.ā Clark flashed you a crooked smile. āItās always been a lot.ā
You just stare at him for a while, too fucked out to respond. Your chin tilts upwards, glancing at the clear scratches and chipped wood of your headboard.
Metropolisā pretty boy had gotten under your skin, broke your headboard, fucked you hard and you could already tell this wouldnāt be the last time.
authorās note: hey guys! sorry for not posting in so long, i was on holiday. all or nothing at all part 3 is in the works and iāll try to get it posted asap!!!
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