hiiiii can you possibly write a sub clark kent where hes like on his knees crying and begging the reader for forgiveness after getting into an argument and then lead to more…. tehe 🌷
summary: clark misses your anniversary dinner and is eager to make it up to you anyway he can (reader doesn't know he's superman)
tags: sub!clark kent x :dom!f!reader , reader is a little mean but.. , mebe ooc clark. he's super puppy in my mind sooo, dacryphilia, oral f!receiving, cumming in panst, cumming untouched, leg humping, clark is on his KNEES
a/n: EHEHEHHEEE.. mmyess yeds.. perfect.. yes.. clapping my hands like a seal ehehehehe PLEASE REQ MORE SUB CLARK thank you not so anonymous friend <3
it wasn't surprising really. you shouldn't be dissapointed. you aren't, really. at least that's what you keep telling yourself. it shouldn't be surprising that you sit alone in your apartment, heels discarded but dress still on, staring at the wall. you had already wasted an hour at that fancy greek place that only accepted reservations months in advance. waiting and waiting and.. well nothing.
it shouldn't be surprising that you left quietly, ignoring the pitying look the hostess gave you. it was nothing new really. you took a cab home, tipped him generously, and now... you're here.
dissapointed and a little surprised. it was your anniversery after all.
clark made a big show of buying a nice dress shirt for the occasion weeks before, something rare because he 'wanted to impress his girl' you were supposed to see it on him tonight. you probably wouldn't though, and the dress you saved up for would probably be discarded in the back of your closet, forgetten until the next year. you sigh, it's a really pretty dress.
you're frustrated , yes. hurt too. angry maybe. but before anything, you're dissapointed in yourself for having hope. he always does this, you tell yourself. clark's tendency to leave you hanging, no texts or calls, only to show up hours later is.. well.. something you thought you could look past. you didn't mind it as much in the beginning. everyone has their secrets, even you. you didn't mind it because everything else about clark outweighed that flaw. his charm, his smile, his complete and utter kindness and endless generosity. his adorable quirkiness and sometimes awkward personality. his ability to just sweep you off your feet and make you stumble over your words. he's the epitome of boyfriend, hell maybe even husband, material and yet here you are. again.
"whatever.." you mutter to youself, even though it really isn't whatever. you click on the tv and watch whatever late night news is broadcasting. some fire that started in some luxury apartments, suspected arson by god knows who. you tune it all out, thoughts spiraling until finally..
you hear the soft jingle and click of keys outside your door and the unmistakeable labored breathes of your very guilty boyfriend. your eyes are still trained on the tv.
"hey baby..." he says, sounding breathless and definitely aware of what he's done. "listen i'm so sorry. i know that doesn't fix anything and.. gosh i just feel so awful. i really am so sorry.. see i was on my way and--"
you're not listening. well you are, but, you're making no effort to acknowledge him. you keep your face neutral and pretend to be interested in tomorrows forecast. possible thunderstorm... amazing..
"--and i just got so caught up i lost track of time. and..." as clark rounds the couch and finally faces you, he realizes just what he's done. his heart breaks even further when he notices the dress, a new one he hadn't ever seen. "oh baby... gosh you look so beautiful.."
he kneels beside the couch when you remain silent. "jeez... i really screwed up this time. i'm so sorry sweetheart i really didn't mean it. i should have called or texted or something... you got all dolled up and here i am.. gosh..." he looks down, biting his lip and looking like a kicked puppy.
"you have every right to be hurt and to hate me.. but please, baby.. talk to me. yell at me, hit me.. anything.." he pleads, gripping your ankle and resting his forehead on your knee. he really looks pitful like this. his big frame looks comically small when he's resting at your foot. you can't see his face like this but you can feel the heat of his breath against your leg. he smells oddly like smoke and sweat. you ignore it and roll your eyes, clicking your tongue.
this gets a reaction out of him. his head shoots up as a choked sound escapes him. "baby! i-i'm sorry i really am.. but don't give me the silent treatment.. you know how much i hate it.." clark whines, gripping your leg tighter. "just say something!" he pleads.
it really is tempting to just scoop him up in your arms and coo that it's okay, that you forgive him and kiss him senseless. and maybe you will later, but right now you're tired of it all. your eyes meet his desprate ones, and for a moment his breath catches. theres a pause.. and then you roll your eyes... again. you sigh and stand up, not caring that he's still clinging to your leg like a puppy. at this point, you're playing a little dirty, aiming just to hurt him a fraction of the way he hurt you. he hasn't exactly earned your forgiveness just yet.
you attempt to take a step foward, but clark is a big man and oh so determined. "w-wait! y/n, please... just talk to me!" his voice is pathetic and catches in his throat, a tell tale sign of how emotional he's getting. it hurts something in you and maybe you start to feel a little guilty but... a little pettiness never hurt.
you look down on him with a distasteful look, and you can tell just how surprised he is at such a face being aimed at him. you only ever look that way at other men who are bothering you. and right now clark isn't any different from them. his eyes glisten a bit and his throat catches as he gulps painfully.
"our anniversery, kent." you state, crossing your arms.
he's speechless for a moment, you never call him that, before wrapping his arms around your thighs and hugging them. "i know, i know baby. i'm sorry, i'm sorryimsososorry..." his voice is muffled a bit, but judging by the way his shoulders are hunched and the iron grip he has on you, you guess he's probably close to crying. too bad you're kinda into that.
"really? you're sorry?" you question and scoff a bit. he looks up and nods frantically, eyes red. "uhhuh! i'm really sorry baby, i-i'll do anything.. just forgive me.. please?" his voice breaks as fat tears finally slip down his eyes. his lip trembles as he pouts, big doe eyes staring at yours. you feel something stir in you, deep and slow. you bite your lip at the sight of your boyfriend, on his knees, face red and eyes glittering.
"i sat there waiting all night while you ran aroud the city doing god knows what. how do you think that feels?" now you're getting a little emotional. really it was humiliating, to have to make excuses for a man like clark.
he chokes back a small sob, pressing his face against your legs, glasses shifting uncomfortably so. he sniffles and you can feel the wet smear of tears on your bare leg. "ngh... 'm sorry dear... please pleaseplease just let me make it up to you.. 'm begging.." he cries, hands grippng the backs of your thighs so hard like he's afraid you'll fly away.
you bite the inside of your cheek and look away. it's getting really tough now. your hand slithers down to his curly hair, brushing it aside and gripping it gently. "you're pretty when you cry, kent." you whisper. he whimpers and sniffles, rubbing his face on your legs before gazing up at you, all teary and pretty. you comb the hair from his forehead and trail your hand to his cheeks, rubbing the tears from his eyes. his lashes are clumped together and his nose is precious shade of pink. your hand finds his bitten lips, slightly swollen and wet. you run your thumb across them, parting them and tugging his bottom lip down. his lips part just enough to let your thumb in.
his mouth opens compliantly as you press down on his tongue. he groans a bit as you play with his mouth. you slide your two fingers in, feeling the warm heat of his mouth and demand. "suck." and clark does just that, lips closing around the digits. it feels better than it should considering the context. even better, it seems that the man beneath you is getting something out of it, judging by the deep labored breaths he's taking. you pull your fingers out and shove his head back a bit, trying to get a clearer look at growing bulge in his pants. your eyes meet his.
"mind explaining why you're like this, considering you haven't done much to deserve it. quite the opposite in fact."
clark pants heavily and whines at the implication. "mfmplease.. please, i know i don't deserve it but.. but i can smell you.." his face crumples, and he sniffles. he doesn't bother adjusting his crooked glasses, instead choosing to hug your thighs closer to him. ".. i can smell you 'n it's driving me crazy.. please..." he presses a kiss to your thigh, right near the hem of your dress. "please.. just let me make it up to you.." he begs.
you stare for a bit. you were really angry then but now you just feel bad. you roll the thought around in your mind for a bit. i mean... it would make you feel better. you sigh for the thousandth time.
his reaction is immediate. he sighs in relief, peppering kisses all along your thighs and gripping them so hard you think you might fall. he whispers "thank youthank you... oh sweetheart thank you" and "'m so sorry." over and over. he pushes up the hem of your tight dress above your hips, groaning at the sight of your panties eye level with him. you can't help the breath of relief that escapes you, especially when he lays a kiss right in the center.
he mouths at you through the cloth, kissing and dragging his tongue through what he can reach, though eventually he places his hands in between your thighs and carefully spreads them as you stand. you hiss at the feeling of his tongue poking and prodding at your folds, the way his hot breath contrasts with the cooling dampness of your underwear. clark groans, sucking at the wet fabric until he decides enough is enough. he grabs the waistband of your panties and tugs down in one swift motion. "ahh.. clark!" you fuss. but he's not really listening.
his thumbs find your fold, spreading them before he dives in. he whimpers at the taste of you, at shudder running down his back in relief. his tongue smacks obscenely as it moves from your folds to your clit. if theres one thing about clark you'd miss, it's the way he devours you with full devotion and determination. his tongue and fingers move in tandem, rubbing your clit furiously and licking up your arousal. he's loud when he does this, moaning softly like it's the best meal he's had in ages.
your hand finds his hair, gripping his curls and pushing his face futhere down as if it isn't enough. your legs are starting to feel a little weak and yet you grind down on his face, moaning with him. "yesyesyes.. thank you baby.." he whimpers, using his fingers to gently tease your entrance. "mmfmmtaste so good.."
your breath hitches when his fingers finally enter you, thrusting and searching for that one spot that makes you squirm. when he finds it, you almost double over in pleasure, holding his head in both hands. "c-clark.." you whine. he groans in response, moving his fingers faster. the stimulation is so overwhemling you do end up losing your balance.. almost.
you stumble, regaining your footing easily... said footing being on clark's noticeable bulge. but right before you could take it off, you hear him let out a high pitched whine at the pressure. sensing an advantage you keep it there, holding his head where it's at, and rubbing at him with your foot. he lets out a strangled cry. still he can't help himself and ruts against your foot.
"thank you sweetheart..feels so good thankyouthankyou" he mutters against your heat before continuing to press wet kisses along it. he's thrust up into you foot at this point, practically trying to hump your leg. he mewls when his clothed length rolls against the plane of your shin. it's not the most effective way to get off but clark doesn't mind. he's not the focus.
his eyebrows are pulled taught, ignoring the way his glasses are sliding down his face and fogging up. instead he continues to pump his fingers, keening at the obscene noises your arousal makes. his lips pull and suck at your own, prodding at your clit and rubbing it until he feels the tell tale tense in your thighs.
"a-ah.. clark.. i-i'm almost.." you gasp out, giving a harsh tug at his hair, receiving ragged whine in response. he kisses at your clit, thumbing it with his free hand "c'mon baby.. please please.. give it to me.." he places another loud kiss "just let go.." he whisperss.
even you can't resist his pleading, feeling yourself tense up with the quickly rising heat in your abdomen. you ride his face, gasping his name as you feel yourself near the edge. clark picks up his speed, writhing against your leg and abusing that one spot you love.
he feels your walls clench around his fingers as you spill over with a string of curses. his mind feels hazy and clouded as he laps up your heady scent. you're all he can taste and smell, and the thought is enough to drive a tremor through him. he keeps his mouth on you even after you've come, grinding frantically against your leg trying to chase his release.
you've never really seen him like this, completely drunk on your taste, getting off without you even touching him. you can tell by the way he's huffing and groaning into your heat, yet it still seems he's holding back.
"its okay baby, come for me.." you coo and thread your fingers in his hair. he shuts his eyes, keening as he lets out a punched out moan. "nghnn..hnn" you feel his hips stutter for a bit before he rests, panting heavily against your thigh, his large shoulders shaking. he shudders and sniffles.
"that's enough.." you say softly, and pull his face away from your legs, kneeling down alongside him. "nnhuh? o-oh.." realizing he was still trying to mouth at you, clark feels a little embarassed about his state. still, those glittery blue eyes look at you expectantly.
you huff and smile, pulling him close, petting his head "its alright clark, i forgive you.. it's okay." he lets out a ragged breath and nods, sniffling as he rubs his face against your neck.
"...'m sorry baby.. thank you."
"shhhh... enough. just... don't pull that again okay?" you coo, running your hands up and down his broad back trying to soothe him. who knew he was such a crybaby.
he nods, relaxing in your embrace as his breathing evens out. no surprise, by the end of the night, it's still you comforting him. you don't mind it this time.
a/n: yayy my first fic. sorry its probably really ooc and theres not much real superman but liek... clark kent >>> superman ykwim? also, first real time writing smut and publishing it gulp.. erm plz be kind and give me pointers maybe. anyways thank u 4 reading and subscribing to my sub big beefy men propaganda campaign.
reqs are open <3 i want 2 write soft clarkie
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