Calling all Mooties & Anonnies!! Looking for Mutual & Anonnies that I can talk to ab David/Clark with & even post some send ins/inbox requests on your guy’s Ideas & blurbs on Clark or David!! Don’t be shyy!! Follow me & send me a little message and we can be best of friends!! If you arreee shy we can still be best of friends and you can talk to me via inbox reequests!! Mwahhss! I can’t wait to talk to you cuties! <3 (<^~^>)
y'all have no idea the sheer horny energy coursing through my veins right now. his longer hair is driving me fuckign crazy. seeing him is like seeing my war husband. i'm feral.
you measure clark's dick to figure out if he's a grower or a shower.
tags: pwp, blowjobs, dick…inspection? (1.1k wc)
—
"a…grower or a…shower? you're messing with me. that's a real thing?"
you loom over clark with a sinister smile. the plasticky zzzzip of the tape measure slicing through the tension in the air.
"well?"
clark's expression is one of mortification, and a very personal need to refuse to back down on such a challenge. he swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
"right…here? on the balcony?" he squeaks, jumping when you retract the tape with the button mechanism.
"yep."
clarks lets out a pained groan as he slumps back into the armchair he was once peacefully lounging on. "you're evil." he mutters, all muffled into his palms. he takes a deep, resigned breath. tips of his ears visibly pink at the thought.
it was the closest you were gonna get to a yes. so you were certainly not going to spook him by mouthing off any further.
"you're adorable."
you press a chaste peck on his cheeks, ignoring his grumble, "but you really don't need to feel embarrassed about it. isn't it a guy thing? to be aware of your size and all?"
clark peeks through his fingers, slightly calmed by your kiss, "it's…just not how i pictured spending my afternoon. also. i am very painfully aware right now." he adds with a sigh, letting his arms drop down along the armrests.
his breath catches as you drop to your knees unceremoniously, the gentle press of your lips to his knee turning him rigid instead of its intended effect.
"you're gonna give me a complex." he comments, petulantly, rolling his shoulders in an effort to soothe his nerves.
you shoot him a grin, thumb circling his forearm, "have i told you how much i love you?"
his head tips with an unimpressed look, "only when you want me to do absurd things like this."
"well!" you rise up to sit on your thighs, "i gotta take measurements for before. and then after. some self-control?" you point out, with your hands tugging at his waistband.
"telling me to have self-control with you on your knees like that is a big ask. but wait. before and…after? after what?"
"measuring you when you're soft, and when you're rock hard." you say simply.
"oh good gosh. you've thought this through. don't tell me there's a chart?" the prospect of it horrifies him, but it’s strangely arousing all at once.
gently, you guide clark's very soft cock out, teeth caught on your lower lips, all eager with anticipation. at the very first glance, you're mesmerised.
"whoa…i've never seen it close up this soft before."
clark lets out a sharp exhale at the sudden brush of cold air, body tensed like a rod as you make your initials observations. "yeah, well…it isn't exactly a state i…would prefer to show off."
you hold the hefty weight to your palms, tilting it, "mhm.."
clark's hips involuntarily jerk at your touch, gripping tight around the vinyl, "geez…you're staring at it like it might grow two legs and walk off."
"i mean..it's really pretty." you mumble, thumbing gently over the skin covering his shy tip, to the veins that were visible down his length, "well, in the general baseline as far as dicks go."
he twitches in your palm, and you shoot him a warning glare. "easy there, tiger. i need the before measurement."
clark groans audibly, jumping at the sound of the measuring tape being expanded. you thoughtful angle it flattened onto your palm, "five…six…wow! not as big as i expected."
"hey!" he bleats, cheeks flushed even more, "i-it's cold, you're staring, i demand a re-measure in more…favourable circumstances."
you snort, "that defeats the purpose. it's supposed to be smaller when you're soft, dummy."
clark lets out a pained sigh, finding the entire situation a fate he'd eventually accepted. "you know what i meant."
"oh come on. now's the fun part. right?" you shuffle closer between his parted thighs, pressing a kiss to his soft tip. "we gotta wake him up."
he winces, letting out a low curse. "that's…hardly 'waking up.'"
you look up at him through your lashes, a grin curling at the corner of your lips. "greedy." his cock twitches in your hold at your tease, and you lower your head, kitten-licking along his length.
the tape measure remains forgotten next to you as you devote your attention to him. but after a good amount of effort, "huh. you don't usually take this long to get hard."
he gasps, offended. "really? you're measuring my…my junk out in the open. it's hardly a turn on. confusing, sort of…hot? but mostly confusing."
"if it's hot then get hard."
clark's jaw steadily flexes at the slow dribble of your spit, coating the base of his cock as you pump it up his tip. his head falls backwards onto the headrest, breathing turning more strained.
"okay. okay…it's…working."
"good?"
"m-mhm. yeah. real…good."
your eyes glint at his visual appraisal, and you wrap your mouth around the tip of his cock. the reaction is instant, hips jumping, bucking further into your hot, warm mouth.
"sh-shit. definitely, definitely working."
he's fully hard in your mouth now, thick and heavy against your tongue. the wet, drag of your tongue along his veins has him lifting off the chair. panting harder, "o-oh gosh, like that, not gonna…l-last—"
as quickly as his bliss had come, you'd cruelly pulled away with a loud pop! clark blinks at you, eyes hazy with frustration, confusion, and a dawning reminder as you pick the tape back up. but all he can focus on were how you lick his pre from your lower lip.
"seriously? now?"
"it has to be when you're still hard!" you counter.
"it's not a one-time-thing," he rasps, flinching as the cool metal tip meets his skin once more. he's breathing hard, chest rising and dipping in the wake of his arousal. gaze pleading for you to hurry up.
"mm. seven…eight," then, you gasp suddenly, "whoa! almost nine inches."
clark's head snaps down, in equal disbelief. "wait, really? no way."
you pause, frowning at him, "why the hell are you surprised. it's your dick." you angle him slightly with the measuring tape, "8.7 inches. that's…fully hard."
"i…i don't know. it's not like i actively measure myself. and —" he lifts his gaze, only to see your deeply perplexed one.
"are you…upset?"
"this is what's been in me the entire time," you begin, accusative, "no wonder i'm always fucking aching!"
clark straightens, his mouth agape in shock, "you're actually upset."
"no shit! i wanna go back to when i thought you were just six inches."
he slumps back in a long-drawn-out groan. with his cock painfully throbbing against his abdomen, he was certain this opened pandora's box was about to be a pain in his ass.
warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), f!reader, unprotected sex, creampie kink, dirty talk (reader to clark), cum spreading, begging, orgasm control (barely), overstimulation, nsfw language + themes
“Just the tip,” you’d said, like that would somehow make a difference. Like it would undo the dozens of times he’d been deep inside you. On camera. Off camera. Bent over the couch. In the shower. The kitchen.
Still—Clark had nodded.
Agreed.
The video opened with you already on your back, legs spread open for him like it was nothing new. His cock was hard, flushed, leaking, pressed right up against your entrance. That first little nudge. Just a tease. Just a taste.
Clark held the camera in one hand, the frame tight on the part that mattered most—where he was thick and twitching, where you were wet and open. His other hand gripped his base hard, trying to keep himself from sliding in too far.
He had told himself it’d be easy, that it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before on set. But what he miscalculated was you.
The way you looked laid out like that. The way you pulsed around the head of his cock. The way your voice hit when you started talking to him.
“That’s it,” you said, soft and slow. “Just the tip, remember?”
He dragged back, inching out until just the swollen head caught at your opening, then pushed back in with a low groan.
You tilted your head back, eyes fluttering before landing right on him again. Your voice came low and smooth, made for the camera but aimed only at him.
“Even a little bit feels so good, doesn’t it?”
Clark exhaled hard through his nose, the muscles in his arm flexing as he held himself back. His hand shifted slightly, adjusting the angle, making sure the camera caught everything—the mess between your thighs, the way you sucked him in like your body couldn’t help it.
“Your cock looks so good like that,” you whispered, smiling as you pulsed around him again. “All thick and red. You like that, don’t you? You like watching it.”
He did. Too much.
Clark leaned back slightly, shifting for a cleaner view. His fingers slipped off his base until only two rested there to guide him—one on each side, just enough to keep himself steady. He moved slow at first, careful, the tip dragging through your heat in tight, teasing passes.
You reached down, fingers brushing his as you spread the slick between your bodies. You pressed in a little firmer, dragging it all the way down his shaft, coating him in it, fingertips gliding over every thick inch he was trying so hard not to bury inside you.
He groaned, quiet and raw. The kind that caught in the back of his throat.
His hips twitched and he slipped a little deeper, grunting at the feel of it—your walls squeezing him tighter the second he sank past the head. He caught himself, pulled back fast, jaw tight.
Then did it again two strokes later.
He was trying. But every time you clenched, every time your body hugged him like that, it was like your pussy was trying to drag him all the way in.
He couldn’t help it.
The pressure hit him all at once. His hips jerked, and he pulled back just enough for the first thick pulse to hit your clit, cum streaking across you. His voice got louder, less controlled, the sound scraping out of his chest before he slipped back in.
The slide was messy, wet with his release, and the noises coming from him were nothing but need—short, rough breaths as his hips pressed forward again, chasing the feeling instead of stopping it. His hand dropped between you without thinking, fingers finding your clit, rubbing hard, spreading his cum everywhere as he worked you through it.
Your moans climbed, sharper, louder, each one catching higher in your throat.
He was still trying—still keeping himself right there at the edge, just the tip. But he was already gone. His cock kept nudging deeper, your body pulling him in before he could stop himself.
The tension sat between you, thick and obvious.
You felt it. He felt it. Neither of you said a word until you finally broke, the restraint snapping clean.
“Clark,” you said, voice unsteady. “I want more. Give me more.”
You begged him for it, hips rocking up, hands gripping his wrist like you were trying to drag him in yourself.
“Please.”
That did it.
Clark let out a low sound and gave up completely. He buried himself to the base and fucked you like he was made for it. Full strokes now. Deep. Filthy. His hand dug into your thigh, holding you open for him, keeping you exactly where he needed you.
Every time he bottomed out, it was a reminder—“just the tip” had never really stood a chance. Not with you sounding like that, or how tight and hot you felt, or the way your body clung to him like you were trying to keep him there.
The camera was still rolling when it hit you. Your body arched, trembling, breath catching as you came around him, hard. He felt it. Watched it. The way your thighs shook. The way your cunt pulsed around his cock like you wanted more even as it wrecked you.
Clark’s breath came rough, chest rising hard as he finally pulled out of you. He glanced down at the screen, then back at you, a crooked, knowing smile already forming.
“So much for just the tip,” you whispered, still shaking from the way he’d left you.
Fun fact: if you, as an adult, tell miserable children that their youth is the best that life will ever be, and that it's all just downhill from there, there's a percentage of them who will hear this and think "well, I guess I better kill myself before that happens." And a certain percentage of those will proceed to do that and succeed.
Anyway what I'm saying is that any time you feel tempted to say that, you should instead consider shutting the fuck up. Just because you peaked at 16 doesn't mean anyone else did. Most peoples' lives get better than that.
he'd been teasing you for hours, it felt like, the tips of his fingers ghosting over you like you were delicate porcelain he was afraid to crack. pretending to have just noticed your neediness, he asks, "do you want something from me?" his tone as teasing as ever yet still warm, comforting.
it slips without you even thinking, really. "mm! i want- want you to touch me, c- clark, please?" you whine, tears brimming in your pretty eyes. you always got so frustrated at even the slightest teasing, but clark wasn't focused on that right now.
"what'd you call me?" he swipes the thumb on his free hand over your bottom lip, trying to coax it out of you to no avail. you only manage to babble in response "say it again, baby, what'd you say?"
you tilt your head, confused why he'd stopped giving you the little touch you were receiving. "please? want... used my words n' everything..."
"no, no, honey," clark tucks your hair behind your ear. "that's not what you want to call me, try again."
you let out a soft, deflated whimper. It isn't fair how he just turns you to mush like that, though it is payback for the countless times you'd did the same to him.
"daddy..." you whispered, trying to shy away. clark pulls you back in effortlessly, forces you to look him in the eye when you say it.
"mm-hm, that's my girl. what do you want daddy to do to you, huh?" he leans in close, kiss length away from your lips.
"touch my pussy, please." you breathe out a sigh of relief when you feel him move, two fingers working into your wet cunt.
"that's my girl," clark hums. "you do know what to say."
just a reminder that the people of iran are still fighting for their fundamental rights. women and men are being unlawfully detained, abused, sexually assaulted and killed. because the media might not be covering the news as much doesn’t mean that the people of iran stopped fighting or are safe in any regard.
as a product of diaspora, please remember that no one wants to leave their homeland. no one wants to live in a society that is separated from their culture and mother tongue. but this is the reality that we are forced to live because religious extremism is good for no one.
this revolution is not about islam, it is about a fascist ideology hiding under the guise of religion and demonizing an entire population of people. this is creating more islamophobia and people are fucking falling for it!
don’t let the western media tell you that trumps previous statements are a good thing, no one wants americas involvement. from previous instances, you should clearly see how americas involvement has only increased violence and further displaced people. they have no interests but their own. amplify the voices of the people you do see because an internet blackout does not erase an entire revolution. continue to tell stories and don’t be silent because they want you to.
i beg you to speak even if your voice shakes. even if you’re unsure, speak. call people out. call your local representatives. attend protests.
this is a pivotal moment in history that demands our contribution. be part of the change and not the reason it is required.
DONT REBLOG IF YOU’RE A FUCKING ZIONIST. YOU’RE PART OF THE PROBLEM.
someone followed me with “proud zionist” in their bio and i immediately removed and blocked them. in my real life, i am very vocal about my support for palestine and i will never be silent during a systemic and deliberate cultural genocide. so i will gladly repeat this as many times as i need to.
this is NOT a safe space for zionist’s.
this is NOT a safe space for israeli apologists.
get the fuck off my blog you absolute clown.
do not engage with my content. do not read my fics. do not follow me because i will block you. mind you every character i write for would HATE you.
free palestine until palestine is free and FUCK israel.
warm kisses scatter along your skin. between gentle nips and fleeting strokes, he croons your name, treating it with the care of an incantation. sweet nothings spill freely from his mouth, carried on dreamy sighs more commonly associated with those newly enthralled by love. with him, it has always been this way.
he's just that hopelessly taken with you.
"my sweet, sweet girl." the last word is practically purred out, laden with the same devotion he uses to utter your name, though now it's directed towards between your legs. he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, the tip of his tongue pressing teasingly against nerve-filled crux.
"always so wet 'n eager for me." with this, his tongue slid into your searing cunt, leaving you aching for a depth beyond what the appendage can ever offer. he has spoiled you thoroughly with his cock; there's no denying that. scooping your arousal into his mouth, a content groan escapes as he savours the fruit of his efforts. unabashed greed. "mhm, missed you so much."
it's stupid to feel jealous, and yet you do. you want that attention directed towards you, those honeyed words meant for you alone. despite that, your pussy luxuriates in his attention, weeping to every murmur of praise he bestows.
you're dealing with not one but three deadly sins: lust, envy, and greed. wrath threatens to join the trio should his antics persist.
he's now french kissing your sex, the velvety warmth of his mouth alternating with teasing licks that coax an involuntary arch along your spine. you writhe beneath him, fingers curling hard into the sheets until your knuckles blanch. sensing your unrest, he presses one final kiss to your swollen clit, then lifts his gaze through lowered lashes.
"you always fawn over your dessert, don't you?" a wicked smirk graces his lips. "can you really blame me?"
BRUCE WAYNE , dick grayson , clark kent , GETO SUGURU , NANAMI KENTO , kong shiu , LESTAT DE LIONCOURT , kishibe + your favs !!
