Clark who, after the tiniest of interactions with you, has to go jerk off in the bathroom before he literally jizzes his pants in the middle of the office.
He's locked himself in the bathroom, his breathing quick and labored.
He glances down at the tent in his pants, his cock painfully hard, and he groans, grabbing his face in his hands.
He can’t believe that just a conversation with you got him this aroused.
And now he has to fix it.
He shouldn't. He shouldn't even be thinking about it. He hates that this happens every time he talks to you. He wishes he was better than this, but he can't help it. He just likes you so much.
He tries to push down the guilt he feels by rationalizing that if he doesn't do this, he'll be hard all day in the office and everyone will see. It's not just him jerking off, it's him solving a problem so he can go back to work. Right?
He hastily undoes his pants, his heart beating hard and fast, more blood rushing south at the promise of release.
He pushes his pants and his boxers down, just past his hips, and his cock springs free. The tip is a dark, angry red, precum smeared over it. He spits on his hand before wrapping it around himself, feeling the way his cock throbs with need, and he starts out slow.
He feels guilty every time he does this, mostly because it makes him think about you and that makes him feel like a huge pervert. But he really can't help himself.
He likes the way you did your makeup today. The soft gloss on your lips was shiny and it smelled sweet, and he imagines it smearing on his cock while you suck him off.
He groans quietly. You'd look so pretty on your knees, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes, your mascara smudging as tears fall down your face.
He squeezes himself harder, jerking faster. Droplets of precum spill from him, landing on the floor. “Fuck,” he hisses quietly.
That skirt you're wearing is so pretty. He'd have it bunched around your waist, holding it there with one hand as he ate you out. Or maybe you'd let him hide under your desk, that skirt concealing his head while he lapped at your sweet pussy in the middle of the office.
His cock twitches in his hand, that searing heat in his lower abdomen growing unbearable, winding tight.
And that blouse of yours…fuck, he'd pop open the top buttons, just enough for your tits to spill out. He wants to bury his face in them, leave marks over their soft skin. He wants to suck on your nipples and bite them until the sensitive peaks are swollen. He wants to spill his cum on them and then lick it off. He wants to watch them bounce as you ride him, watch them jiggle as he fucks you…
Clark braces one hand on the wall as he jerks himself faster and harder with the other. Fuck, he's gonna come.
He can imagine your beautiful face caught in ecstasy, that perfect mouth open as you moan and gasp his name. He can imagine your soft thighs wrapped around his waist, your pussy tight and wet as he fucks into her.
You'd sound so sweet when you’d come, you'd look so beautiful. And you'd feel so good, wet gummy walls wrapped around him snugly and milking him. He'd fill you with his cum, spill all of it in you until it's dripping out of you. He'd keep you full of it until you got swollen with his baby. He'd make you his. Completely his.
He grunts, gasping as he comes, the white, sticky ropes of his release spilling onto his hand, coating the wall, dribbling down to the floor.
He's shaking from the force of his orgasm, sweat beading on his brow. It takes him a minute to come down, but when he does he's immediately cleaning the mess, embarrassed and guilty.
He walks out of the bathroom, his cheeks tainted a faint pink, and he hopes he manages the rest of the day without having to get off while thinking of you again.
♡ please comment and reblog my work, it means so much to me and inspires me to keep writing
Clark Kent masterlist
---
𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - if you wanna be added to my Clark Kent taglist, lmk <3
thinking about cowboy!clark kent talking you through riding him in his awfully charming southern drawl.
"yeah, there ya' go, honey," he's guiding your hips on his cock with big, warm, calloused hands heavy on your skin, his tip hitting that sweet spot inside you with each bounce.
there's an obvious bulge in your tummy from just how big he is, disappearing and reappearing with every shift of your hips.
"ohgod–" you choke out a whine, resting your sweaty forehead on his broad shoulder, letting him do most of the work by manually moving your hips. "s'big, clark" you bite down on his shoulder, his salty skin coating your tongue. that pulls a groan from him, he's rubbing the fat of your ass tenderly.
"i know, baby. i know" he's so loving, so incredibly doting that you can't help but cry out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him as his cock nearly splits you open.
"feels good though, don't it?" he drawls, gripping the hair on your head gently and pulling your face from the crook of his neck so he can pepper reverent kisses on your flushed, damp skin. "my pretty baby, jus' want t'make you feel good" he coos, head lolling back as your pussy flutters around him in response to his sweet words.
"fuck, clark" your face twists in pleasure, limbs turning into puddles as you feel that knot in your gut tightening impossibly. greedy hands roam his body, your fingertips running over his tanned arms and squeezing at his biceps. "m'close" you breathe out, looking down and literally moaning at the sight of the creamy white ring at the base of clark's member.
"i know it, sweet girl. can feel ya' milkin' me" he shakes his head, huffing a chuckle that shifts into a groan as you dig your manicured nails into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks in your wake. he doesn't mind when you mark him up, if anything it makes him twitch inside of you.
his balls tighten up, heavy with cum as you grind down on him a few last times before your orgasm washes over you, leaving you moaning whorishly into his skin as he fucks up into you. "aw, there ya go, s'good h-honey, love you, sweetheart" he praises you for cumming, as if he didn't just do all of the work. "claaark" you breathe out, collapsing on top of him as a post-orgasm calm washes over you.
he finishes shorty after you, as he always makes it a goal to get you to finish before him. he thrusts up into you sloppily and shoots his warm release deep inside of you, making you squirm on top of him from the strange sensation. "i know, baby, feels weird..." he groans lowly, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back.
he lets you collapse on top of him, basically a puddle from how fucked out you are. he's pressing little kisses to your bare shoulder every so often, making sure you're as comfortable as you can be. "did so good for me, honey." he's just the sweetest cowboy. <3
summary// you ended up realizing that making clark your lab rat would simultaneously be the best and worst decision of your relationship.
content warning// conditioning, mating press, doggy style, nasty filthy sex, creampie, clark is feral, clark has an alien dick, clark swears, improper use of x-ray vision, kryptonian breeding kink, squirting, clark is pathetic
2k words whew
with clark kent fucking you like that, you don’t think you’re making it out alive.
well, your fault for trying to experiment on a poor, farm-grown kryptonian.
.
on monday, on the evening, you decided that you could begin your sick little experiment of conditioning on clark. after reading an article about it online, you wanted your alien boyfriend to be your lab-rat for it, and saw no apparent downsides to the experiment, so you went on with it.
starting with the trigger, you decided for it to be a duck emoji. weird enough for clark to be confused, not too weird for it to have him worrying like the sweetheart he is. ten minutes before you arrived home after work, you had sent him a singular duck emoji with no context or follow-up to it, which, as expected, had your poor clarkie as confused as ever. you smiled when he immediately texted back with ‘???’—success. as soon as you arrived home, you barely let him finish his questioning before pouncing on him, interrupting his sentence with a kiss he welcomed with open arms.
that night, you rode the man to the moon and back—gave him such mind-numbing pleasure that he couldn’t even bother to remember his previous confusion about the duck emoji.
and so, with the first day being a success, you repeated the process.
every day following that one, you would do the same thing—no texts or news all day, a duck emoji ten minutes before coming home, mind-blowing sex.
after a few days of repeating the process, you began to space out these encounters, opting to send the duck emoji every two to three days—a great way to keep the man on his toes, anticipating, waiting for the next time you'd send him that emoji.
then came the most awaited experiment—your greatest mistake.
it was on a friday night that you had decided tonight was the night. you had sent clark the usual duck emoji, smirking as he had immediately seen the text. however, when you arrived home, it wasn't like usual. usually, upon sending the emoji, you'd pounce on him and drag him to the bedroom. tonight, however? radio silence. well, not quite, but that's it felt to clark. you didn't give him those bedroom eyes you usually did on nights you were feeling particularly needy, you insisted on taking a shower all by yourself (he almost crumbled at that) and after dinner, you lounged on the couch to watch a tv show without even asking him to follow you! you just did!
the thing about clark kent is, he's a gentleman through and through. his ma had raised him to be one, and for christ's sake, he was superman! how could he not be a gentleman? but, he sympathizes with himself, you can't spell gentlemna without man, and clark was a man before he was anything else. a very aroused and hopelssly in love man, at that.
he stands awkwardly in the doorway of the living room, staring at you. you noticed, of course, but this wasn't unusual. clark has always had sort of weird quirks—you had always found them endearing. "is something the matter, honey?" your sirupy voice cut through his stream of thought, and suddenly his eyes focus again, gaze meeting yours.
clark has his phone in hand, and he brings it up to look back at the duck emoji you had sent. duck meant sex. you wanted this. he can indulge. you want this.
he knows you do. you sent the text, and he feels like he can almost smell your arousal and it's driving him fucking insane because he just wants to dive in it and taste it and fuck you everywhere so the entire place smells like you and-
in the blink of an eye, his phone is abandonned and he's on you, lips smashed against yours. you barely have the time to react but you do, arms now hanging around his thick neck. his hand latches itself onto your cheeks, fingers pressing into both of them, urging you to open your mouth. as soon as you do, his tongue, which was inhumanely long, snaked into your cavern, exploring its depths. he moaned at the taste of your saliva, almost melting into you as if the flavor of you was his ultimate salvation.
noticing the lack of air filling your lungs, he pulled away, his eyes softening at the sight of you catching your breath. "c-clark... what's... whta's gotten into you?" you licked your lips, face flushed. he looks at you like a puppy begging for its treat. "the emoji... you sent the emoji but you didn't... i thought..." his mind is a rush, moving at a thousand miles per hour as his entire body is begging him to rip your clothes off and take you.
he gives up, his head falling into the crook of your neck. "i just... i really need to fuck you, sweetheart." and as he's confessing this, his hand is gliding towards the waistband of your bottoms, sliding swiftly underneath it.
you think you could ascend.
you bite your lip, rendered mute at the sheer tension of the moment. "i know you want it, baby..." he scoffs, eyes closed. "can smell it."
curse him for being such a dangerously hot and multi-abled alien.
his hand makes its way underneath your panties, finger running through your slit, collecting the slick you've been trying to keep to yourself for the past hour. "ah..." you let out a low sound, almost imperceptible but clark was so hyper-focused on you that the little moan made him shudder.
he uses his forearm to push himself upwards, his hand escaping your bottoms to rush up to his mouth, and when you look at him, you gasp, feeling your walls clench.
because clark has never looked this feral.
his eyes were half-lidded and impossibly dark, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows your juices, eyes nearly rolling back at the taste. he moans, his cock twitching and growing inside his sweatpants.
"you're gonna give it t'me, right sweetie?" he asks in that low, sultry voice that he only allows himself to use when he'd rather die than not touch you.
the eager nod you gave him marked the moment you knew you were done for.
.
how long has it been? you don't know. you don't know anything, actually. your brain is fogged with how clark was pounding you into the fuzzy carpet, your eyes crossing when the buds running along his dick grazed against the ridges of your walls, the added sensation making you spasm. "f-ffuck-! clark- oh my god, ohmygod—" you can barely form a sentence, let alone link two words together when he knocks at your cervix, your tits bouncing in rhythm with every thrust.
and clark isn't even listening to you, his eyes laser-focused on the sight of his cock splitting you open repeatedly, a vein bulging on his forehead at his intense use of his x-ray vision. "look at that, b-baby... look..." and you don't even bother, too lost in the ecstasy. he sees it all though, the strings of your arousal clinging to his tip every time he pulls away, the ridged of your pussy hooking onto his buds, the contractions of your muscles.
he finally manages to pull his eyes away from the sight, only to be met with the even prettier, albeit messier sight of your fucked out face. tears and drool glossed your skin, your eyes rolled back nearly to the back of your skull, throwing your head back when clark's hips stutter against yours, a white-hot wave washing over him over the sight.
he stilled when his buds hardened and hooked onto your walls, pulling him impossibly deep as he shoots buckets worth of cum deep into your womb. "a-ah! holy sh- hmm, fffuck, baby- i- fuck!" he sobs, jerking down towards you and you moan at the feeling of him filling you up once more, droplets of his sweat dripping onto your buzzing skin.
despite his orgasm, he doesn't stop, "n-need m-moree- needa fill you up-! ah, fuck!" his voice jumps up an octave when his buds finally relax again, allowing him to keep pistoning into you. "d-don't stop, clark! please dont- oh-!" he suddenly grabs your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders before beeending down, succesfully folding you in half. his face is now slotted right in front of yours, and the eye contact is so intense you almost feel shy under his gaze.
a mating press. clark kent had you in a fucking mating press.
you get lost in his ocean blue eyes, barely able to keep the eye conatct when he fucks you almost like he hated you, digging in your pussy. "you're... you're so beautiful, honey... so fucking pretty- all f'me, yeah? all f'me?" you nod, hands pressing against the back of his head to bring him impossiby closer to you, "all for you, clarkie," you confirmed being hastily pressing his against you, imprisoning him in a feverish kiss. clark moans into your mouth, eyes closing. you jolt slightly when you feel a tear drip down on your cheek, peeling your eyes open to see clark crying.
he pulls away, gasping for air as his throat restricts. "i l-love you, love you s'much— need you so, ngh, so bad... wanna breed ya'..." he sobs, whimpering for you. seeing clark become such a slave to his love for you had an inescapable effect on you, and your orgasm was almost immediate. you came with a gasp, the pleasure being so heavy that your eyes had given up on their function, unfocusing and leaving you with the blurry image of clark's flushed expression. your back arched as cream dribbled out of your hole, creating a white ring around clark's base.
in the midst of your orgasm, he pulls out, making you whine for the few seconds your face isn't smushed against the carpet because in a matter of moments, your world tilted before you found yourself face down ass up for your boyfriend. he pressed a hand on your back, urging a deeper arch. "m'sorry baby, m'so sorry..." he apologizes for the his unceremonial behavior but his apologies fall on deaf ears as you couldn't be happier.
your hands clutch the fluff of the carpet when he slams back into you, kneading the flesh of your ass. "just... just need this. s'your fault for making me wait... so long.. to have you- ngh, gosh..." he's hypnotized by the rippling of your ass, and the way your back bends impossibly for a second each time he rams back inside you, pressing you further into the carpet.
with clark kent fucking you like that, you really don’t think you’re making it out alive.
well, your fault for trying to experiment on a poor, farm-grown kryptonian.
your moans are rhythmic, matching the pace of his hips. leaning in, he wraps an arm around you to squeeze your tits, massaging them and rubbing your hardened nipples. "so obedient..." his comment makes your walls flutter around his fat cock. he begins to roll his hips, not quite thrusting. he presses against you, making you drool. "nghhh... fffuuuck... love you... so much.. c-clark-!" you slurred, going crazy at the sensation of his buds hardening slowly again, hooking onto your insides.
"w-want your cum-! want you to b-breed me!" you egged him on, "yeah? y'want it, baby? oh gosh, i'm cumming, m'cummingm'cumming-" he gritted, spilling into you once more. "oh my god! oh god, sweetheart!" he whined, your name escaping him as his hips bucked again, releasing rope upon rope inside you. his orgasm triggered yours, drops of your release trickled down onto the carpet before his hand snaked down to your clit, rubbing furiously and suddenly an intense stream released itself onto the now soaked carpet, the intensity of both of your orgasms making the two of you collaspe in a heap.
he layed on top of you, both of you catching your breaths. "i feel so... sticky." he remarked, "shit... i ruined the carpet." you groaned, knitting your eyebrows together.
a silence settled in, before you broke it. "i'm glad my experiment worked." a beat passes before he reacts, "experiment?"
"i tried conditioning you into associating sex with the duck emoji. it worked."
clarks hums, choosing not to react any further.
a few days later, minutes after the end of your shift, you receive a text from clark.
You’ll be in the office, talking to him about this article or that, and the entire time he's just remembering the way you felt under him last night, how your eyes rolled back, how your nails scratched his shoulder blades raw.
His eyes move to your lips, and he can almost hear how you'd moaned his name, the way your labored breath had fanned right into his ear, and the way you’d gasped as he angled his hips so his cock pressed against your g-spot.
Your voice becomes background noise as he remembers how good you'd felt around him. Your warm, tight walls wet as they squeezed his cock, sucking him in, trying to keep him deep in you. And the sounds of it. The wet, obscene squelching combined with the rhythmic slapping of his hips meeting yours...
He's hard before he knows it.
“Clark, are you listening to me?”
Your voice snaps him back to the present moment, back to the bullpen, back to you with your arms crossed and a frown between your eyebrows.
He turns red when he realizes he'd zoned out. “Uh,” he says stupidly, blinking at you. “Sorry. Just...”
“You’re not paying attention,” you accuse, pouting.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, cheeks turning pink. “I just…it’s —” hard. No, let’s not use that word. “— it’s difficult for me to pay attention sometimes. My mind just sort of…goes away.”
“Away where?” you ask, the furrow between your eyebrows deepening.
Clark exhales thickly and glances around to make sure no one is close enough to hear what he’s about to say. “I just can’t stop thinking about…last night.”
He hears the tiny hitch in your breath. “You - you’re really thinking about us having sex right now? I’m talking about something extremely important to my career and you’re just ignoring me, thinking about —?”
Clark gently grabs your upper arms and pulls you a little closer to calm you. “Baby, baby. I’m not ignoring you. It’s not that I’m ignoring you. You just look so beautiful when you’re inspired and determined, and it’s…well, I am just a man.”
You huff, arms still tightly crossed over your chest. “You’re not just a man,” you mumble.
“I am just a man with needs and desires,” he insists. “I’m just Clark Kent in love with you. And everything about you…And, yes, that includes your perfect body.”
That earns him a little reluctant smile from you that you try to hide. “Clark.” Your voice is quiet and firm, an obvious warning, but he can tell he’s getting to you.
“It’s not my fault you’re gorgeous,” he says lowly, leaning a little closer, the warm desire in his lower abdomen starting to build. “Not my fault you have such a beautiful face, and a perfect shape, and the sweetest pussy,” he whispers into your ear.
He feels you shiver and God, now he has to drag you into the office bathroom to fuck you if he wants to be able to focus for the rest of the day.
♡ please comment and reblog my work, it means so much to me and inspires me to keep writing
Clark Kent masterlist
---
𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - if you wanna be added to my Clark Kent taglist, lmk <3
The way he fills you is surreal. The thickness of him makes your gummy walls stretch to their limit, warm and wet while they grip him tight.
He groans lowly once his hips are flush against yours, your thighs spread wide to make space for his huge body.
You're so full, pussy completely yielding around his heavy cock, and Clark can see that there's not a single thought left in that pretty head of yours.
He presses down on your lower belly and just grinds his hips against yours, rubbing against your g-spot, his fat head brushing your cervix.
You squirm at the feeling of him throbbing deep in you, breathlessly whining out, “Clark.”
“It's so much to take, baby, I know. But you're doing so good,” he assures, leaning down to kiss your jaw. “My good girl.”
Every thrust empties you completely before filling you to the brim again. Over and over, he fucks into you, feeling the way your body struggles to fit his girthy cock even though you’re delighted to have him in you.
“Breathe, baby, breathe,” he reminds you when your little whines and mewls turn into quick, shallow gasps. You try to obey but struggle a little because it feels like you’re so full of him that there’s no space left for air.
And when you two are done, you end up stuffed full of his cum, the thick, creamy liquid warm as it pools against your cervix. It coats your inner walls and drips out of you, dribbling down your ass to gather underneath you on the bed. Clark is quick to help you into a pair of panties so your sore pussy doesn’t waste a single drop of his sticky release <3
♡ please comment and reblog my work, it means so much to me and inspires me to keep writing
Clark Kent masterlist
---
𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - if you wanna be added to my Clark Kent taglist, lmk <3
synopsis: Jfc, Clark teasing you by pressing the thick head of his cock against your entrance, only to pull back, then press forward again, then pull back???
cw: porn and no plot, clark teases you, bigdick!clark, slight dacryphilia, depictions of porn in general <3
wc: 364 (blurb)
a/n: can you tell i'm ovulating 😩
He'll do it for a good while, after he's already worked you up, eaten your pussy, and fucked you on his fingers for well over an hour. So when, instead of sinking his cock into your needy cunt, he starts teasing you, you start crying.
Fat tears roll down your pretty face as desire and frustration bubble up in you.
“Clark,” you whine, begging. “Clark, please, just...just fuck me.”
“I will, I will,” he promises, while continuing to tease you.
You, a mewling, whining, squirming mess, try to press your hips against his to get him in you, but his huge hand falls on your hip and grips it tight, holding you still.
“I'll give you what you need, just be patient,” he says firmly.
Still, he keeps it up. Just the tiniest of rolls of his hips so the fat tip just barely starts sinking into you, before he pulls away.
He likes the way your cunt opens up to him when you think he'll finally push inside, and then the way you desperately clench around nothing as he pulls back.
“Clark!” you cry, pouting, cheeks soaked from your tears. “Please!”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” he says, but he keeps it up. He's just so obsessed with the way your slick dribbles out of you every time he pulls away, thin strings of your essence connecting the arousal on your hole to the one smeared on the tip of his cock.
He likes how desperate you are, how you start blubbering his name and begging, and how soaked you are by the time he finally gives you what you want.
He sinks into you slowly. He's been working you up for so long, that the feeling of him in you is enough for you to come.
He feels your gummy walls squeeze him tight the second he's all the way in. Your thighs shaking and his name leaving your lips in little squeals and gasps are obvious giveaways of your orgasm.
He laughs softly, his voice rough. “‘m sorry, sweet girl. Did I make you wait too long? I'm sorry. I just love seeing how desperate your pussy is for me.”
♡ please comment and reblog my work, it means so much to me and inspires me to keep writing
Clark Kent masterlist
---
𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - if you wanna be added to my Clark Kent taglist, lmk <3
strapping clark naked to a chair, tying his arms around his back. putting up a ruler against his hard cock while he pleads with you to assure him he’s big enough so he could be inside you - lining his very tip up to the nine and a half inch mark and smiling telling him he’s just big enough before grinding your pussy up against his cock, making him close his eyes and drool, whispering for you to please hurry and put it in. that it hurts. that he won’t complain even if you go slow, or pump yourself on him real shallow, as long as he gets to be snug and warm inside your little pussy so he can finally find relief <3
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Clark & you shack up in a rundown motel for a stakeout. Like the gentleman he is, he takes the floor to make sure you get a good night's rest. Unfortunately for both of you, the next-door neighbours had different plans.
𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆/𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘: Explicit/F!Reader
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: smut, pwp, explicit, voyeurism themes, comedy, banter, p-in-v, creampies, clark covers your mouth to shut you up, making out
𝐖/𝐂: 1.8k+
It went on for days.
Rythmic. Insistent thuds coming from the wall adjacent to the bed. Your eye mask sat half pushed up your eyes, as if waiting for a —
Thud!
Right on cue, the muffled moan seeps through the paper-thin walls. Your palms curl to a tight fist around the pillow covering your ears, far surpassing your very last straw.
"Clark."
His shoulders twitch, but he doesn't say anything. You jerk upright. Swinging your pillow toward his sleeping form on the carpeted floor, next to the bed.
"Clark!"
He stiffens like a board, bouncing up and blinking at you, all alert, his hair sleep-mussed. Glasses sat crooked on his nose, likely from putting them on in haste. Clark's gaze turns intense for a second, scanning the room for any immediate danger.
"W-huh?! What's wrong?" He manages, voice raspy with sleep. The thumping across the wall doesn't miss his ears. Clark frowns, looking toward it.
"Did you hear something? Is someone in…" He doesn't wait for you to finish, but the sleep-stricken bliss on his face dissipates to a scarlet hue, reddest at the tip of his ears. "…danger."
"Are you kidding? The only thing in danger is my ability to get a decent hour of sleep!" Your face slumps into your palms with a dramatic whine.
It was impossible to ignore it now that it'd been recognised. High-pitched squeals and thumps, paired with the sound of their headboard hitting against the drywall so hard you felt your own frame rattle.
"Unbelievable. Is the wall there as a suggestion?"
Clark can only stare at the flimsy drywall, taking a heavy gulp in an attempt not to just…look. "They're…passionate?" He points out, questioning, only to be met with a withered glare.
"No woman would ever make those noises for a man unless they're being paid to." You refute.
"I…see." Clark clears his throat, holding a loose finger up to point at the offending noise. "Do you think it's a…"
"Hooker? Yes. Great one by the sounds of it."
"Right. I didn't realise there was a baseline." His statement hangs in the air, heavy with his genuine and innocent observation.
"In what sense?" You pry, the noises from across turning far less interesting now.
"Uh. I don't know. The louder a lady is when…you know. The better the intercourse is?" Clark looks up to the ceiling thoughtfully. Shaking his needless curiosity away.
"You're thinking about something."
The broad-shouldered man jolts, turning to face you in the wake of your blunt statement. "I…I'm not sure what you mean."
"You've got that look on your face," you say simply. Then, playfully whip your sleep mask at him — it lands against his chest with a thud, a mocking noise as his heart rate picks up. "Spill."
"I — gee," Clark relents with a sigh, slowly standing up, albeit unsteadily, before plopping onto the bed next to you. The motion sends the mattress dipping low under his heavy weight, forcing you to slide closer to him.
"It's not so much a thought…but an observation."
When he turns to you, your gaze is already on him. All wide and curious. His head snaps away from your innocent stare, "when you and I…are intimate."
He continues after a beat, "you're sort of…loud," then, his hand comes up to loosely point to himself, "so... that means you feel good. With me."
The words land as a brief shock to you. Not at the implication, but that Clark had actually formed that specific thought just from an off-handed comment.
Your answer came in the form of a gentle swat to his hand, paired with a shy, honest look, "…don't do that. Makes you look dorky."
Clark's lips break out into an easy smile, his head bowed to chase your eyeline. "Aren't you going to ask me what I'm thinking about now?"
"Not interested." Your rejection comes swiftly, punctuated with a dramatic slump onto the comforter. Though the quirk at the corner of your lips gives your actual thoughts away.
"Oh, come on," Clark's voice drops to that familiar, negotiating lilt. The bed dips further, with his elbows secured over the pillow you hid your face in. His warmth behind you inched closer. "Ask me."
You look over your shoulder suspiciously, "hurry up before I change my mind."
His lips curl into a wide, dimpled smile.
.
.
.
'Let's see how honest you can be without making a single sound.'
It was a stupid, impulsive challenge thrown out there. One that was potentially dangerous to their cover. Possibly — no, completely unnecessary for two people who were only in a motel room to stake out an elusive contact.
The logic was hard to fight. It was a bet to be quiet. So the pact was formed in the wake of the soft rustle of sheets, the gentle hold of Clark's palm at the base of your lower back. You bit down on your lip hard at a tug that forced you flush against Clark's chest, with your thighs draped over his thicker ones. Instinctively, you arch into him.
His gaze tracked your movements, intently raking over your twitching thighs. Clark's head lowers, his lips searching for a spot — a spot he knew would incite a shiver from you. The kiss beneath your ears did just that, squirming helplessly to the mercy of his teasing touches.
A whimpered sound choked on the way out of your lips as his hands slid beneath the fabric of your bottoms, a whisper of the fibres gracing the heavy, hot air in the room. His warm, bigger palms still at the outside of your thighs, urging your hips upward.
"You're doing a really good job," he comments, reverence felt in the manner his nose still chased the curve of your jaw.
The springs of the motel bed squeaked at the shift, adding your sweats to the pile that was Clark's makeshift bed on the carpeted floors. He doesn't make it easy for you in the slightest. His mouth finds purchase on the column or your throat, and toward your pulse.
"Mm'tryin' to keep — ugh — quiet!" Your voice is barely above a rasp, trying to nudge his face away in a weak attempt, "don't…"
Your soft whine was the very first crack in your resolve, in your promise to keep quiet. It only seemed to spur Clark on even more, his mouth clumsily finding yours, catching the corner of your lips before they slot just right.
The quiet room filled itself with the urgent, wet smacks of your combined desperation, whimpers that spilt into each other's throats. Clark's free hand slid up your ribs, his thumbs skirting beneath the curve of your breasts. Deliberately, his thumbnail rake over where your nipples slowly hardened.
"Ah!"
The sound spills from your lips before you can stop it, and you turn to bury your face in the pillow. "Nnh. Not bein'…fair." You mutter, petulantly, with your face squirmed into softness.
He laughs suddenly, warm against your pulse.
"Who said anything about being fair?" Clark's nips at your earlobes, placing open-mouthed kisses unabashedly despite your squirming.
You writhe beneath him, frustrated. With a determined tug, you pull him down more. In a soft tone, barely there, you whisper his name into the shell of his ears. It'd run louder than any whine or moan you'd given in an ode to your pleasure.
The reaction was instantaneous. His rigid body, which was once intent on teasing grinds, melted into you. The hard lines of his erection stiffened in a demanding manner, urging you to spill all your little whimpers into his ears.
"Just…like that." He pleads, eyes fluttering shut when your tongue drags past the shell, probing into the soft curve.
"Clark…Clark. Clark."
Each whispered whine of his name threatened to unravel him entirely. Clark's deftly shucking his trousers off just enough to free his aching cock, resting the hefty weight of it on your bare cunt, soaking with arousal that he pulled from you painstakingly.
"You…You have to be actually quiet. Okay?"
You nod sharply, steadying your hold onto his biceps.
Clark's careful.
At first.
Easing his thick, hard cock into your eager walls was the easy part. Especially with how easily you opened up for him, sucking him in — begging for more.
But then he snaps his hips into you. His length disappears deep into your belly, making you feel so fucking full and overwhelmed at the same time that you squeal.
Clark's palm spans over the lower half of your mouth. Muffling the ends of your whine. "Oh, sweetheart —" he coos, his voice cracked in remorse. You blink up at him, hazily and uncoordinated, looking at him like he'd given you blue balls.
"You can't — …" Clark shakes his head slowly. His hold is unrelenting over your soft lips. "Breathe through your nose. Okay? Trust me."
Your stifled whimpers are efficiently muted by the warm press of his palm, subjecting you to the controlled thrust of his hips. Each one met with the creaky protests of the mattress. Clark's breath comes out gradually ragged against your neck, the sweat from his skin mingling with your own.
It seemed to be doing something to him on a chemical level. Feeling the warm vibration of your needy grunts into his nerve endings, paired with the rhythmic pulse of your cunt that was the only other indicator of how turned on you were.
Clark's eyes are scewed shut, as though every one of his senses were attuned to the noises. To the sounds of your arousal, to the ones of the sticky, hot connection below. Your cunt clenched around his length, harder with each stroke of his thick thip in your twitching walls.
His head pulls back in time to meet your fucked out gaze as he's met with the telltale signs of your oncoming release, "shit. I'm — please." He manages, pulling his palm away from your reddened lips, where a slight string of your drool clings to him.
He brings his dampened palm down to your clit, rubbing you in idle circles.
"Ngh! Clark!" You squeak, digging your nails into the taut muscles of his arms. That gave you the tip you needed before your body arches off the bed, into him, in a quivering intensity, coming hard around his cock.
Clark follows suit, his own body seizing, shuddering gutturally as he takes on the wave of pulses from your walls, filling your belly with his hot, potent cum.
You lift your head up, only barely, lips chasing the warmth of his pulse, blissed out in an undeniable wash of addicting pleasure that the man above you pulled from you successfully.
It's short-lived, though. Especially when an insistent, loud bang resounds from the walls above both of you.
the concept of clark kent’s nose tip bumping against your clit when you’re riding his face and he can’t stop moaning against you because of how good you taste and slipping his tongue in your cunt<3
Clark who just loves being in you. He simply can't go too long without feeling your warm pussy around his cock.
First thing in the morning, he wakes up with his morning wood tenting his sweats. Sleepily, he reaches for you, spooning you and kissing across the side of your neck, causing you to stir from sleep.
Not ten minutes later, he's still spooning you as he sinks into you, groaning thickly as he feels your wet heat envelop him.
“Fuck, your pussy is so tight, baby, she feels so good around me,” he grunts, his mouth against your ear. The thick mushroom head brushes against your cervix once he's all the way in.
You squirm, gasping softly as he fucks you, the thickness of him pressing right against your g-spot as he fills you perfectly.
After, his cum dribbles down your thighs while you two rush to get ready for work before you're late.
He can barely keep himself away from you in the office. His senses are constantly tracking you, listening to your heartbeat, smelling the sweet scent of your shampoo and your perfume, and it drives him insane.
He's half-hard in his pants most of the day until he can't control himself anymore. Taking advantage when everyone goes out for lunch, he drags you into the bathroom and is quick to bend you over the sink. His hands hastily hike your skirt up around your waist, exposing your ass and your pretty cunt, and he's quick to rub his fingers against your clothed folds.
God, he's missed your cunt.
It's not long before you're soaked and he's pushing his aching cock past your folds, stretching your fluttering hole around him.
He moans out a raspy, “Aw, fuck,” as he sinks every inch into your pussy, stretching out your sensitive walls.
You mewl lowly, grabbing onto the edges of the sink to keep yourself upright. You look up at the mirror in front of you, meeting Clark's gaze in the reflection.
“Look how she takes me, baby,” he groans as he starts thrusting, dragging almost all the way out before pushing back in. “Look how good your pussy is for me, she's squeezing me so tight.”
The rest of the afternoon, you sit at your desk, squirming a little as the combination of your orgasms drips from you and gathers on your panties.
The second you're back home, Clark is all over you. His huge hands touch every inch of you he can reach as he walks you backwards to the bedroom.
And now that he's got time for more than a quickie, he makes the most of it.
He has you on your back for hours, your poor pussy fucked wide open, squelching every time his cock pushes in because you're just so wet.
Clark's mind is completely blank except for the feeling of your pulsing walls around him, sucking him in. He gives you orgasm after orgasm, making up for the quickies you've both had to settle for throughout the day, and simply enjoys how perfect your cunt fits him.
“It's like she was made for me, honey,” he grunts, his hands finding purchase on the fat of your thighs and fondling them. “All wet and warm and tight — I just wanna spend all my time in her.”
He's fucked you stupid now, so you can't do much beyond mewl and scratch at the skin of his arms as you try to hold on.
And fuck, Clark loves it. He knows it's probably a bit too much for you and that you're going to be sore after. But he also knows that, tomorrow, he's gonna do it all over again because he's just obsessed with your pussy <3
♡ please comment and reblog my work, it means so much to me and inspires me to keep writing
Clark Kent masterlist
---
𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - if you wanna be added to my Clark Kent taglist, lmk <3
"Goodness' sake, honey, you look stunning," Clark said softly when you emerged from your shared bedroom dressed for date night.
You were going for a sort of office-siren-after-hours look: a silk blouse strategically unbuttoned to show off your cleavage and a (stretchy, for comfort and ease of access) pencil skirt with a slit that started high on your left thigh and a hem that fell a few inches above the knee.
You looked at him and smiled. "The outfit isn't even complete yet, babe. I still have to put my boots on."
Clark grinned. "Then I'll tell you again when your boots are on."
You shook your head and laughed before striding up to him to leave a sweet kiss on his mouth. Then you doubled back to grab your knee-high boots from the hallway closet where you both kept your shoes.
"Are those new?" Clark asked, his eyes following you across your tiny apartment as you sat down to zip them up.
"New to me! Thrifted them at the flea market with Lois yesterday," you said, the pride of a great thrifting haul tinselling your voice.
"What a great find," Clark said.
Normally he would've responded with much more enthusiasm and curiosity about your haul, since you both loved the hunt of the thrift and finding well-made pieces for a song. But he was having trouble summoning words at the moment because he was enraptured by the pose you were in. Bent over, one hand sliding up your calf while the other pulled the zipper up on your boots. It was slow and sensual, like something out of a movie.
"Gosh, baby, your legs look amazing in them. And that skirt," he murmured.
With both boots zipped up, you looked over just in time to watch Clark's restraint fail and he swept his hand over the exposed skin of your thigh, sliding up and up till it reached the top point of the slit.
"Thank you, baby," you said back with a smile, all sweet and innocent as you met his gaze. And then: "I think my legs would look even better with your head between them."
You tamped down your desire to giggle, pass it off as a flirtatious joke, when you saw how his lips parted, curling at the corners into a devilish smile.
"You know, I wholeheartedly agree," he said, his eyes glinting, and then he was pushing your skirt as far up your thighs it would go and moving to kneel in front of you.
"Clark!" you said, a little surprised and a lot delighted. Still, someone had to be responsible. "Don't we have dinner reservations?"
"I have a whole meal right in front of me, honey," Clark responded cleverly. You laughed and cradled his face in your hands, storing his pleased little expression away in your heart, and kissed him long and deep.
"Do it fast?" you breathed when you pulled away. He nodded furiously.
"Time me, if you want," he said, before tugging your panties down and literally diving in.
His warm hands massaged your thighs while his jaw worked over you. He licked a hard stripe up your cunt to taste your slick, coat you in it. Then he lathed over your pussy lips, sucking them into his mouth, enjoying the feel of them.
He was always like this when he ate you out, like every time he got to put his mouth on you was the first time. His tongue, his lips, tasted you, sucked on you, explored you anew every time. You loved it, enjoyed it as much as he did, although with 15 minutes before you had to leave, you knew he needed a little reminding to get back on task.
"Clark," you moaned, and he got the message. Without preamble, his mouth moved to your clit, sucking on it gently as a finger teased the entrance of your hole. You groaned, low and rough, and tossed your head back on the couch.
"Feels so fucking good, baby," you sighed. Your fingers found their way into his curls and you tugged lightly. He groaned beneath you and redoubled his efforts. He started fucking one finger into you, then two, curling them as he plunged them in to the hilt. His tongue went back and forth between hard, wide strokes, and then tiny flicks against your swollen clit.
You were moaning loud as hell by this point but you were far past the point of caring. He pushed the groans and sighs out of you with every pump, and he sped his ministrations up perfectly, beckoning your pleasure into a crescendo.
Then his lips clamped tight on your clit and sucked while his fingers fucked you relentlessly, and your vision went white with the orgasm that slammed into you.
"Ah—Clark—fuck—!" you managed to choke out. He slowed his hand down to a gentler pace, letting you ride the wave until you were still and pushing him away, overstimulated.
"God, baby, that was so good," you said, catching your breath. He grinned, his chin still shiny with your slick. You pulled him forward by the collar of his dress shirt and kissed him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste yourself on him. "Thank you."
"Mmm, anything for you," he murmured into your mouth.
You smiled and then pulled back, examining the sight before you. "You know what? I was wrong. My legs don't look better with your head between them."
"No?" Clark asked, eyebrows raised.
"No, it's more the other way around, I think," you say playfully, winding your arms around his shoulders and playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. "I think you look better with your head between my legs."
He chuckled and gave you a dopey grin. "You're so right. I should just have my head between your legs all the time. Wanna look good for my gorgeous girl."
You laughed and kissed him again. "I'll take you up on that later. For now, your gorgeous girl is starving."
He gingerly pulled your panties back up your thighs and helped you up as he stood.
"Let's get some dinner in you then, huh? Gotta fuel up," Clark said with a wink. You grinned and bit your lip as he led you by the hand out the door.
Taglist: @kryptidfiles @supermanville
if you want to be tagged whenever i post an original, feel free to leave me an ask!
hi again! I’m the one that wished you’d get a kiss for your fics 😛 and I had a thought about Clark
Obvi, he’s strong and pathetic, but imagine him jealous 👀 like ughhhh, I think he’d hide it pretty well, but he’d use his powers to maybe overhear your convos w/the guy he thinks you’re talking to and monitor your heartbeat or sm
what’re your thoughts?? I feel like there’s more he’d do, but pathetically, like a kicked puppy
also, I hope the wips are going well🤭🤞🏼
imo, he hides his jealousy pretty well, but there's a desperate edge to his words and actions. every. time.
best believe that man would be spacing in-and-out of conversations, slowly—and i mean slowly—inching closer and closer to you because that convo between you and the stranger has gone long enough.
he "bumps" into you as if he wasn't stalking you the entire evening, kissing your temple and nuzzling his nose in your hair and as you bathe in the affection, his eyes look over his glasses to the stranger, purposefully placing himself behind you because he knows you'll lean back against him instinctively...he'll listen to the way your heart flutters, smiling at the stranger innocently.
clark waits with bated breath though when you continue the conversation, his patience wanes swiftly. the person's words were droning, monotonous and he could feel you sink in his arms, too polite to stop the conversation.
you rolled your eyes lightly when you feel him start huffing lightly, chuckling at his neediness before you gasped when his breath came out colder down your neck.
the fucker just blew fucking cold air that traveled down your spine, racking your body with a shudder
that innocent smile of his?
yeah it grows smug when he hears the throbbing of your pussy, spreading wider the moment your arousal starts invading his senses. entirely too cocky that only he could smell you. only he could hear your blood rushing.
and he'll be the one to aid your ache—the only one able to reach every crevice of you pussy with his own throbbing cock, the only one with enough stamina to keep up with your desperation.
the only one able to fuck you against every surface of your and his apartment—the reinforced table, the couch, the bathroom. FUCKING YOU AGAINST THE WALL AFTER THE BED CRACKS BENEATH YOU BOTH. ALL NIGHT TO THE FUCKING MORNING AND INTO DUSK I—
Clark who just loves being in you. He simply can't go too long without feeling your warm pussy around his cock.
First thing in the morning, he wakes up with his morning wood tenting his sweats. Sleepily, he reaches for you, spooning you and kissing across the side of your neck, causing you to stir from sleep.
Not ten minutes later, he's still spooning you as he sinks into you, groaning thickly as he feels your wet heat envelop him.
“Fuck, your pussy is so tight, baby, she feels so good around me,” he grunts, his mouth against your ear. The thick mushroom head brushes against your cervix once he's all the way in.
You squirm, gasping softly as he fucks you, the thickness of him pressing right against your g-spot as he fills you perfectly.
After, his cum dribbles down your thighs while you two rush to get ready for work before you're late.
He can barely keep himself away from you in the office. His senses are constantly tracking you, listening to your heartbeat, smelling the sweet scent of your shampoo and your perfume, and it drives him insane.
He's half-hard in his pants most of the day until he can't control himself anymore. Taking advantage when everyone goes out for lunch, he drags you into the bathroom and is quick to bend you over the sink. His hands hastily hike your skirt up around your waist, exposing your ass and your pretty cunt, and he's quick to rub his fingers against your clothed folds.
God, he's missed your cunt.
It's not long before you're soaked and he's pushing his aching cock past your folds, stretching your fluttering hole around him.
He moans out a raspy, “Aw, fuck,” as he sinks every inch into your pussy, stretching out your sensitive walls.
You mewl lowly, grabbing onto the edges of the sink to keep yourself upright. You look up at the mirror in front of you, meeting Clark's gaze in the reflection.
“Look how she takes me, baby,” he groans as he starts thrusting, dragging almost all the way out before pushing back in. “Look how good your pussy is for me, she's squeezing me so tight.”
The rest of the afternoon, you sit at your desk, squirming a little as the combination of your orgasms drips from you and gathers on your panties.
The second you're back home, Clark is all over you. His huge hands touch every inch of you he can reach as he walks you backwards to the bedroom.
And now that he's got time for more than a quickie, he makes the most of it.
He has you on your back for hours, your poor pussy fucked wide open, squelching every time his cock pushes in because you're just so wet.
Clark's mind is completely blank except for the feeling of your pulsing walls around him, sucking him in. He gives you orgasm after orgasm, making up for the quickies you've both had to settle for throughout the day, and simply enjoys how perfect your cunt fits him.
“It's like she was made for me, honey,” he grunts, his hands finding purchase on the fat of your thighs and fondling them. “All wet and warm and tight — I just wanna spend all my time in her.”
He's fucked you stupid now, so you can't do much beyond mewl and scratch at the skin of his arms as you try to hold on.
And fuck, Clark loves it. He knows it's probably a bit too much for you and that you're going to be sore after. But he also knows that, tomorrow, he's gonna do it all over again because he's just obsessed with your pussy <3
♡ please comment and reblog my work, it means so much to me and inspires me to keep writing
Clark Kent masterlist
---
𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - if you wanna be added to my Clark Kent taglist, lmk <3
How do you think Clark feels about anal on reader and how would he feel if she were to rim him 
clark would definitely wanna prep her for forever before even starting penetration if she expressed that she wanted to try it, he’d pour so much lube on her ass even after going down on her ass and tonguing her so she’s wet and her muscles are relaxed. he’d take twenty minutes with just the tip sitting inside he’s so serious, checking if she’s okay, if it hurts, if there’s blood or if the stretch is too sudden and painful.
it takes her to start fucking her ass back on him to take more of his length and he’s going cross eyed. starry eyed. dumb while he feels how tight and different her asshole feels. could feel it around his tongue while he rimmed her how tight she was, but it was a whole other thing to have it strained around the girth of his cock. he rubs her clit and hyperventilates while he finally gets the courage to pick up the pace after squirting another little pool of lube on his dick so its smooth and a little noisy as he ruts in. soon he’s pulling her legs up on his shoulders and holding back less and less, still rubbing her clit and occasionally fingering her pussy so she feels so nice and full. knows when she’s extra weak from a certain angle of a thrust when her muscles constrict and gets fresh wetness to spill all over his fingers that were sliding inside her pussy
aaaaand when she experimentally rims him during a heated blowjob, he’s so clean and whimpery when her tongue goes to his balls, sucks on them, tugs on them, then goes down lower. and lower. and lower. and clark can’t help but curse, spread himself wider, whines and pinches his eyebrows in while quietly begging for more with his body language. she switches off between licking up the underside of his veiny cock before slicking her tongue right back down, teasing him and kissing his rim and wiggling her tongue back and forth and he had no idea that could feel so good. it was the cherry on top.
after a bit of her kitten licks and hallowed cheeks driving him so crazy he shoos her tongue away from his hole and asks her to focus on the head of his dick again, almost crying while he takes his own finger and with the help of all her spit lathered on his hole he slips his own finger in, watches her suckle and drool on his cock head, shooting his cum down her throat with a long drawn out whimper.
she swallows all that she can, drips of his cum falling down the corners of her mouth while she licks her lips to gather it all. rubs her lips together. clark carefully pulls his own finger out of himself with a gasp and closes his eyes. after a beat all’s he can muster saying is -
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