Description: Bad date after bad date, and a roommate with a bad habit. What’s a little touching between friends?
Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader
Warnings: porn with plot (fingering, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, begging, clark is whiny and a little pervy, dry humping, cum play(?), big dick!clark yet again, they get a little freaky with it), jimmy olsen is a rascal
Word Count: 7.5k
a/n: and they were roommates!
“Honey, I’m home,” Clark sang out as he snuck in through the window.
He grinned, his cape settling and a bit of dust still coating his hair that he shook out near the windows, much to your dismay. He always promised he’d clean it up, and kept that promise about sixty percent of the time. You watched him, only half amused by his greeting. He pouted, though he’d deny it if you dared call it out.
“You always laugh at that,” he stated, hands on his hips.
You merely groaned, sinking further into the couch cushions where you sat. Your hands went to cover your face, legs tucked up under you.
“Is there something wrong with me?”
Clark raised a single brow, flopping down onto the couch next to you. “Excuse me?”
You groaned, dropping your head on his shoulder. Either something was wrong with you, or literally everyone else. You were certain of it. You’d attempted once again to date someone. Last time, a girl talked about her ex the whole time. Before that, someone else had been very adamant about splitting every bill to the exact cent. Tonight, you’d given a chance to a guy who seemed a little insecure on the dating app you’d found him on. That was your mistake. He appeared normal enough at first. Maybe not totally your type, but you were always willing to give someone a chance if you thought you might at least have a compatible personality and a similar sense of humor. This dude had neither.
“Once again, I give a chance to some loser on a dating app. Once again, I get fucked,” you huffed out, cheek smushed to Clark’s shoulder. “And not in a fun way.”
His ears went a little red, but they always did when you spoke like that.
He’d found you through Jimmy a couple years ago. You were an old friend from high school who was looking for a reliable roommate, and Clark, at the time, could certainly use someone to help ease the load of his bills. Metropolis wasn’t cheap for an up-and-coming reporter. You were sweet, funny, and according to Jimmy, extremely reliable. Clark found out that you could also be a bit of a mother hen, which he was more than happy to be on the receiving end of. He liked coming home to someone who cared about what happened to him. Especially when that someone made him blueberry pancakes on Sunday mornings and liked to go bowling with him on Tuesday nights.
But, you were never one to be terribly shy. Years later and he was still a little squeamish when you’d swear like a sailor or talk about your sex life. He didn’t want to think about you like that. At least not in front of you.
When he was alone, though, it was a bit of a different story.
Of course, he felt guilty about it every time it happened. But he could only take so much, and it's not like he was one to date around or get his fix with a girl he doesn’t know all that well. He tried hard not to, but sometimes you’d discuss your latest escapade or walk around in nothing more than your cute little panties and a t-shirt and he would suddenly find any excuse to run to his bathroom. He didn’t always touch himself! No, that would be rude. Sometimes he just took a freezing cold shower, or he’d just stand there and think of his Pa talking about one of the cows giving birth or Steve eating a meatball sandwich. That usually got rid of it fast.
But, every now and then, he just couldn’t help himself. He’d scurry off to his room for a while, and try his best to see how quickly he could make himself finish. His record was two and a half minutes. No more than a casual bathroom break. He would be quite proud of it if it weren't for the overwhelming shame and guilt that followed for jacking off to the thought of his roommate.
He gulped, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “What happened?”
“I’m never dating a man with zero confidence ever again.” You patted his thigh, pretending you didn’t notice how he tensed from the contact. You thought it was sweet how shy he seemed to be. “Go get dressed and I’ll give you the run-down. You’re gonna dirty up our couch in your little get-up.”
He snorted a laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t you ‘yes, ma'am’ me.”
He just got up, smiling to himself. You watched him go, that giant of a man. Part of you almost wanted to just ask him to bed you. Maybe not date, you weren’t sure you were exactly his type. But god… if it wouldn’t totally fuck up your roommate situation, you’d have tried getting in his pants the first time you’d met him.
You still remembered it.
When Jimmy had told you that he had a friend from work who was looking for a roommate, you didn’t expect 240 pounds of bumbling gorgeous. He blushed when you said hello, told you he’d cover three quarters of the rent while you got your bearings after your last roommate had put you out to couch surf, and could hardly look you in the eye after you’d made an extremely mild flirtatious comment. You may or may not have casually asked Jimmy if Clark was single after that. Jimmy shoved you and told you to leave the poor guy alone.
In retrospect, he was looking out for both of you. It probably wouldn’t have ended in a signed lease as much as a single, glorious night. If you even got that far. You were certain that Clark was the boyscout to end all boyscouts. Once he’d told you he was Superman, you knew that your suspicions had been confirmed.
But agreeing not to fuck him didn’t mean you couldn’t look.
You ended up being glad you never did, anyway. He’d become a great friend in the time you’d been living together. He was courteous, kind, and you didn’t have to carry groceries a single time in over two years any time you’d gone shopping with him. He always bent to your will when it came to picking out what to watch for movie nights, and was shockingly funny when he wanted to be. It was a good deal. A great deal. A fantastic deal with a cute butt and stunning dimples.
Clark shrugged out of his suit in the privacy of his room, briefly pressing his nose to the shoulder of his suit where he could still smell your shampoo before he came to his senses. He took a fast shower, rubbing one out for good measure. He figured if he got ahead of the curve, there was less chances of getting hard out of the blue if you touched him literally anywhere. He bit into his lower lip, spilling against the shower wall with a soft sound that sounded suspiciously close to your name. But he’d never admit as much, even to himself.
He found himself on the couch with you that evening, listening intently to you spill your guts about yet another date from hell. He frowned as you recounted the man’s behavior, an arm slung around your shoulders as his face was pressed against your hair.
“Maybe you should take a break from the apps,” he mumbled after you’d finished.
You sighed. “Mm… maybe. But god, what gives? It’s not like I’m specifically seeking out true love right now. Some consistent sex would suffice, but even that is impossible.”
He coughed once, cheeks going red again. “Uh… right. Well…”
“Sorry. I know you get squeamish about that,” you mentioned with a chuckle.
“I’m not squeamish.”
“You get all blushy if I talk about sex.”
He huffed. “It’s… you just… you talk about it like–”
“See? Squeamish.” You chuckled, adjusting to look up at him.
Clark groaned, pushing you away. You laughed harder, pulling the tiniest grin from his lips.
“You’re mean to me. Just cause I don't share all of my… experiences.”
You raised a brow. “To be fair, I didn’t realize you even had experiences.”
He flushed again, hand on the back of his neck. Taking care of himself in the shower evidently didn’t prevent anything. He crossed one of his legs over the other, trying to mask what jumped up in his sweats.
“It’s not like I’m a virgin.”
“Could’a fooled me.”
He glared at you. “Be nice.”
“I’m plenty nice.”
“You make fun of me.”
“Only cause I love you,” you teased, pinching his cheek. “And cause I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about a girl since you dated Lois.”
He sighed, head leaning back onto the couch. “I don’t like doing– doing that unless I really like somebody. I just haven’t found the right person in a while is all.”
You smiled, softer now. You took his hand in yours, squeezing it softly as your head found its way to his arm again.
“That’s very sweet.”
“Don’t make fun–”
“I mean it, Clark.”
He glanced down out of the corner of his eye to where you leaned against him. His thumb brushed over your knuckles gently as you both refocused to the tv that was running in the background. He leaned over, kissing the top of your head.
“You deserve better than those folks you’ve been out with lately, you know?”
“I know.”
“Mm.”
You let out a soft breath. “The last girl I was out with tried telling me she didn’t like how I kissed.”
“Oh.”
“Which is total bullshit, by the way. She said she could ‘help me figure it out’.” You rolled your eyes. “I know for a fact that I don’t need help.”
Clark just nodded once. “R-right.”
“I don’t think anyone has ever told me that before.”
“Hm.”
“Are you going to say anything else to me?” You glanced up at him with a laugh.
“I’m, uh– I’m sure you’re a very good kisser?”
You snorted. “Have you ever had someone tell you that?”
“Tell me…?”
“You can’t kiss. Or need help or whatever.”
He shook his head. “Uh, n-no?”
“You think you’re good at it?”
He flushed again, looking away. “Come on…”
“Alright, you big baby. I’ll quit asking.”
He let out a slow breath. That ended up being a long night for him once he went to his room for the night.
Weeks later, he groaned as he woke up, still a bit dazed from a deep sleep. He woke to the sound of you shuffling around the apartment, but couldn’t yet bring himself to climb out of his cozy bed. It wasn’t until he heard his door creak open that he made an attempt at opening his eyes.
“Good morning, sunshine,” you whispered, sneaking into his bedroom.
He laid there in his plaid pajama pants, washed in sunlight and tangled in his sheets. He blinked groggily as you walked in, smiling a little at the sight of you in little more than a t-shirt and panties. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to you being so… comfortable.
“You took my shirt again,” he rasped, holding out a hand as you crawled into bed with him.
You made yourself comfortable on his bed, cross-legged and taking his hand as he turned onto his back on the mattress.
“I like this shirt. It’s soft.” You shrugged, tugging lightly on the hem of his old Met U t-shirt. “Besides, if you keep throwing your clothes into my hamper, you can’t be mad when I take them.”
He just hummed once, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. “Guess so. I like it on you anyway."
“Flirt.”
“That was not.”
“So you think I’m ugly?”
He scoffed, eyes going wide. “Wha– I didn’t say that!”
You tried to keep it together, but his immediate defense and embarrassment was too much to handle. You chuckled a little, his features softening but still stern as he muttered your name in a scold.
“You’re so easy to rile up.” You grinned.
“You’re rude.”
“You adore me.”
He sighed, arm around your waist as he pulled you down with him. You squealed, settling yourself with your knees on either side of his hips. He intended merely to bring you a little bit closer, maybe get you to quiet down, but Clark realized too late what a pickle he’d just gotten himself into as he loosened his arm.
“Oh, geez–” he mumbled, feeling himself freeze up.
“If you wanted me on top of you that bad–”
“Quit it.”
“Yes, sir.”
He frowned, stomach dropping as he felt his blood rush south. You chuckled for only a moment before something else caught your attention, something that wasn’t there before suddenly insistently pressing against your bare thigh.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry,” Clark squeaked out, eyes squeezing shut. “Shoot, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Not your fault.”
“It kind of is.”
“You didn’t get hard on purpose, I’m sure.”
He groaned. “Please don’t talk about it.”
“Too late, it’s touching me.”
He whined. Honest-to-god whined. His hands settled on your hips, trying weakly to push you away. You had two options in front of you, you realized: allow him to push you away and pretend it never happened, or…
You gripped his wrists, stopping him from pushing you away. He looked up at you, alarmed with his ears turning red as fast as his cheeks did.
“What are you doing?”
You just shrugged, pushing your hips back up from where he’d tried shoving you away. Clark gasped at the small amount of friction it provided to his restricted length. He breathed out your name again, though whether it was meant to be a warning or praise you weren’t quite sure. What you were sure of is that he looked really cute with rosy cheeks and parted lips, and a little dry-humping between friends never killed anyone.
“You can stop me if you really want to,” you spoke, voice barely louder than a whisper, your hips rolling against his with more purpose.
His jaw ticked, his eyes still closed. “I… I know.”
“Are you going to?”
He swallowed, hands gripping the fat of your hips with more strength, helping you along as you rocked against him again. He knew it would be reasonable to stop this. He didn’t do casual, he knew that he couldn’t. He also didn’t ever cross that line with you, despite the thoughts about you that seemed to plague his mind at any given moment. But this technically wasn’t anything, he rationalized with an extremely clouded mind. You both had clothes on, mostly. The most intimate skin contact was his hands on your hips and thighs. It was fine. He decided it was fine, so it would be fine.
“No,” he finally answered after a moment.
Your hands ran over his wrists, his forearms, his fingers. You watched him carefully as his eyes slowly blinked open, hooded and dark. He watched the way your hips, clad in those soft blue panties, dragged over the evident bulge in his pajama pants. He let out a shaky huff, groaning under his breath.
“Gosh…”
“Yeah,” you breathed out with a short chuckle, hands against his bare stomach. Your fingers traced the little happy trail that snuck from his belly button down into his pants. His stomach jumped at the contact. “This is… nice. Good bonding time.”
“Bonding?” He laughed, breathing heavily. “I, uh–um… this is a heck of a way to bond.”
You just nodded, a small sound of agreement on your lips as he took a firmer hand guiding you over his erection. You felt the flimsy material of your panties clinging to your skin, soaked in your own arousal. You were sure you’d leave a spot against his pants, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed about it.
Clark’s sounds grew louder, needier. His head was clouded over with want, his cock throbbing with a desire to be freed from the confines of fabric separating him from what he was sure would be a very soft, warm place between your legs. He’d thought about you a million times before, but this was the first time he could remember feeling truly, horribly desperate to be inside of you like this.
“Baby…” he groaned.
Fuck. You whined softly at the petname, your body moving against his with even more intention than you’d had a moment earlier.
“Don’t stop,” you gasped, feeling a familiar coiling in your stomach.
He smiled, dazed out. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
You dragged yourself against the length beneath you, pleased to become so aware that he was just as big as you’d imagined him to be. A new buzz beneath your skin intensified as your clit caught on what felt like the thick head of his cock. You tried the same movement again, garnering the same result. Over and over and over.
Clark whined underneath you, fingers dug into your thighs. “W-wait. Wait, honey, I’m–”
“No. N-no, please, I’m so close.”
He grunted, frustrated and ready to finish as well. “M-me too.”
“Don’t quit.”
“Okay,” he rasped. “Okay. O-okay.”
“Right there, just like this.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, one arm tugging you down against his chest. His face buried in your hair, a harsh groan coming from the back of his throat as his hips rutted up against you. You moaned against his ear, cumming hard, pussy clenching and pulsing around nothing. Clark could hear your heart speed up as you finished, his own release coming only a few seconds later. He spilled into his pants, one hand on your waist, the other in an iron grip on your thigh.
You both laid there for a little while, the glow of your shared orgasm settling between you. You felt elated, cheek against his clammy bare shoulder. Clark felt… humiliated? Excited? A scary combination of both, it seemed.
“I’m… I’m really sorry.”
You breathed slow, pushing up on his chest to look down at him. “For what?”
“That was, uh…” He looked away. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“To cum?”
He mumbled your name. “Gosh. Don’t say it like that. No, I meant doing all of that. I don’t–”
“I liked it, for the record.”
He swallowed. “Me too, but I shouldn’t have.”
“Clark. Come on,” you whispered, tilting his head to look at you again. “If you liked it and I liked it, then there’s nothing wrong. It was fun. You had a good time, right?”
He gave a pouty nod. “Yeah.”
“Quit pouting.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“You totally are. You just came and found a way to feel immediately guilty about it. You’re not Catholic, cut it out.”
“Ma did bring me to church sometimes when I was little…”
“Clark.”
He sighed, a soft smile making its way to his face. “Sorry. I– I did like it. That was nice.”
“We didn’t fuck. I think we can chalk it up to a fun activity between roomies.”
“You have an odd idea of what a roommate activity is.”
You smiled, brushing his dampened hair away from his face.
If Clark thought he was struggling with how he felt about you before, it was a whole new ballgame now. He knew he had a bit of a crush, as evidenced by the way his dick would jump to life if he thought about you too hard. But it was suddenly leagues worse.
He didn’t have to wonder what you’d sound like under him, he knew. He didn’t have to guess if you’d be soaked and warm for him, he had evidence in the form of a wet spot on the pants he’d worn that morning. You came rubbing yourself on him. He came in his pants. You got each other off. He wasn’t going to be quick to forget it.
Going into work that morning didn’t help him out at all. He was certain his cheeks were still a little pink as he stumbled into his desk chair at the Daily Planet. Evidently, he wasn’t making it all up in his head.
“Dude.”
Clark glanced up to see Jimmy staring at him pointedly. He raised his brows in question.
“Who’s the girl?” Jimmy asked, his arms crossed.
Clark sputtered. “Wha– there’s no girl.”
“Bullshit. You look like you got laid.”
“I did not–” Clark sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Why would you even think that?”
“You just look… satisfied. Too happy to be here at nine in the morning.”
“I like my job.”
“Not that much, man. Come on, Clark,” Jimmy huffed, certain he wasn’t imagining things. “I haven’t seen you like this in… ever.”
Clark bit the inside of his cheek, turning back to his computer, trying to ignore Jimmy commenting on his behavior under his breath. Jimmy didn’t often let him be for very long, though.
Clark was making an attempt to mind his business on a bench outside, quietly eating the PB&J he’d packed for himself that morning, until Jimmy found him. Clark glanced up, cheeks filled.
“Hi?”
Jimmy sat on the bench next to him, stretching out. He sighed heavily before he looked to his friend.
“You’re really going to do the whole ‘secret girlfriend’ thing again?”
Clark frowned, swallowing. “I’m not.”
“You’re really bad at lying.”
“I’m not lying. I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Jimmy snorted a laugh. “So you are hooking up with someone? Of all people?”
Clark sighed, his sandwich dropping down in his limp hand. “I’m not doing that either.”
“I’ll find out eventually, you know that, right?”
Clark just took another bite, ignoring the comment. Jimmy was annoyingly perceptive sometimes. Clark often thought Jimmy should’ve been an investigative journalist when he acted like that. But, he was finally offered some reprieve when Jimmy changed the subject, talking about some plans to go out for drinks that Friday. Clark nodded along politely, not bothering to fully listen until it was too late.
He realized after Jimmy grinned and told him to bring you along that he’d accidentally nodded to going with them.
Clark showed up at home with a shy wave, and a request on the tip of his tongue.
“So…”
You looked in his direction as he washed the dishes that night, sipping wine while propped up on the kitchen counter. He was still in his button up from work, sleeves rolled just past his elbows, humming to one of your songs playing softly in the room. He looked downright delicious. You wondered if your little tryst that morning would become a welcome addition to your routine as a pair, or if Clark would try to brush it under the rug like it had never happened. You hoped for the former.
“Yeah?” You replied after a second.
He let out a small puff of air. “Uh… Jimmy asked me to go out with him and a few folks from the office on Friday, after work. He said you should come with us.”
“Oh?”
“Uh huh.”
“Is that an invitation?”
He shrugged once. “If… if you’d like to come with, I’d love to have you.”
“You half-had me this morning already,” you quipped with a snorted laugh.
He felt his cheeks warm, your name a soft, almost disapproving sound on his lips. It only made you smile further, causing him to grin back against his better judgement.
“I, uh… maybe we should talk about that. At some point.”
You raised a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he affirmed with a nod, drying his hands after putting the last plate in the drying rack. He turned to you, crossing his arms. His breath hitched a tiny bit at the way your eyes dropped to his biceps. “Um… I just… I don’t know. That was different. For us.”
“I’d say so. Not exactly dry humping our brains out on a regular basis.”
“Hun,” he huffed, the pet name slipping out easily. “I’m trying to be serious.”
“Okay, okay,” you conceded, setting your glass down on the counter next to you. “Yeah. It was… unusual for us, for sure.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think that’s a bad thing?”
He blinked, his eyes a bit wider. “W-well, no. Not bad, just… just different.”
“Is it something you’d want to do again?” You got to the point, tilting your head in question.
“I don’t know. Maybe? But it wasn’t–” He paused, taking a breath. He had to look away, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “I don’t usually do stuff like that.”
“You seemed pretty damn good at it.”
He flushed, all the way down past his collar. “I-I mean with somebody I’m not dating. I don’t do that unless I’m with somebody. This time was different.”
“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. But for the record, I had a very good time.”
“Yeah. I did too.” He nodded, meeting your eyes again. “Can I think about it? If I can do it again?”
You agreed softly with a smile. He gave you a warm hug, letting it linger a little longer than he usually would. You graciously ignored the bulge you felt against your leg again.
He acted as normal as he could, still quite obviously thinking about what you’d done together, but trying not to let it show. He couldn’t help it. He’d fantasized for so long that getting a taste felt absolutely surreal.
Friday night came, and so did his lingering gaze on your chest in the tight top you wore to go out with his coworkers. He didn’t mean to look. It was just hard not to when your breasts were pressed up the way they were.
He sat by your side through the night, sipping on a sprite and getting all of your margarita refills from the bar. He laughed at every joke you made, hardly noticing the looks between Jimmy and Cat at his behavior with you.
The moment he excused himself to go to the “bathroom”, aka he caught wind of a burning building and had to do his Super-thing, they all moved in on you.
“Seriously?” Jimmy started with a laugh.
You looked at your long-time friend, his expression bewildered. “What?”
He merely groaned, leaving it up to Lois to shake her head at you. You glanced at them all, unsure what the gossip was.
“He has that lost-puppy look,” Lois said with a short chuckle into her drink.
“Maybe a dog in heat,” Cat added in, laughing when the comment pulled a few sour looks from the phrasing. “Oh, you know what I mean.”
You sighed. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Clark,” Jimmy replied simply. “He looks like he’s actively holding back from bending you over the table.”
“You’re gross.” You snorted a laugh, sipping your drink. Little did he know.
“And you’re no better,” he quickly added. “Leaning into his side, giggling at his jokes. He is not that funny.”
“But he’s super cute,” Cat sang out with a grin.
“He’s been staring down your shirt literally all night.” Lois looked at you with a raised brow. “He is classically horrible at hiding how he feels. You can’t seriously say you haven’t noticed him falling over himself for you.”
“You guys are all ridiculous.”
Jimmy groaned. “Oh, please. I’ve known you forever, dude. And we all know Clark. Like Lois said, he is classically shit at hiding his feelings. She would know.”
“And dare I say, he’s acting even more desperate than anything I saw from him in the beginning,” she mentioned with a grin.
Cat laughed. “Oh my god. It’s so cute, come on. You two would be so sweet together.”
“She likes a big boy, too,” Jimmy noted.
“James,” you scolded.
“Just saying. You always went for the tall ones in high school. Except that one guy… Emmett?”
“Oh my god.”
“He was an interesting choice.”
“He was nice!”
Jimmy snorted, muttering under his breath, “and a freak.”
“You’re so–”
“What?” He laughed. “Don’t be like that, we’re just having some fun. Like I’m sure Clark would love to have with…”
You all looked at him as he trailed off, like he’d come to an epiphany all of a sudden.
“What?” Cat prodded first.
Jimmy smiled, which was often dangerous.
“Are you the reason he came into work the other day looking like he got some?”
You were taken off guard. Oh boy. “Pardon me?”
“You so are.”
Cat gaped. “You already climbed that?”
“No–”
“Oh, she so is,” Lois mentioned softly to Jimmy, gossiping like you weren’t sitting right there.
You scoffed, floundering. They were all out to get you, you were certain of it.
“Why don’t you all bully Clark about this instead of me?”
“We bully him every day,” Jimmy explained.
You huffed a breath, melting into your seat as they chattered on. Fortunately, your drink ran out, and you had an excuse to leave in order to grab a new one. You got up, making a beeline for the bar, and placed your order for a hard lemonade. It was time to slow down if you didn’t want to wake up hung over.
You waited for a couple of minutes before the smell of Clark’s cologne clouded your head. He always wore a little extra when you went out, and god, he smelled good as fuck when you were a bit tipsy. You looked up to see him sidling up next to you with a smile.
“Everything go okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah, of course. Firefighters did a great job, I just grabbed a nice old lady and her cat. Everyone else was already taken care of.”
“Good.”
“Everything okay here?”
“Your friends are horrible.”
He furrowed his brow. “What happened?”
You chuckled. “They’re just… nosey. It’s all Jimmy’s fault.”
“Nosey?”
“Yeah.” You thanked the bartender, tipping her as she handed over your bottle. “They were interrogating me about you.”
“About me?” He crossed his arms.
Your eyes flicked to his shoulders, his arms testing the limits of that baggy t-shirt. “Mhm.”
He gulped. “What’d they say?”
“They’re trying to figure out if we’re fucking,” you stated, meeting his eyes again. “I told them no, but they have officially made up their minds.”
He let out a breath. “Gosh.”
“Yeah. Said you’re like a dog in heat who won’t stop staring at my tits.”
You laughed, but Clark blushed, shifting on his feet. Now it was his turn to let his eyes drop down. Okay, maybe they had a point about him looking at your boobs.
“They do look really nice.”
Oh shit.
You blinked, not expecting him to be so forthcoming. But, to be fair, you did rub up on him until he made a mess of his pants only a few days before.
“Huh.”
“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“Don’t fucking apologize.”
He paused, nearly pouting. “But–”
“It’s okay. Quit worrying so much, Clark,” you said softly, touching his arm. You glanced back at the table, the small group talking amongst themselves. “Come on. We should probably go back.”
He didn’t budge. “Or… maybe we can go home.”
“Oh?”
“Y-yeah.” He shrugged, trying like hell to be nonchalant. “If you want.”
You nodded, your final drink left full on the edge of the bar.
The walk back to your shared apartment was quiet, your hands brushing with every step, though neither of you made the move to do more than those soft touches. It wasn’t until you walked into your building, waiting for the elevator that you realized he was taking you home. Kind of. Did it count if you shared that home? Maybe it didn’t matter.
You both stepped into the elevator, Clark hitting the button for your floor.
You glanced over first, eyes lingering on his jaw, his hair, his ear, his lips… everything. Clark followed, his eyes flicking over your arms, stomach, chest, face, and landing back on your eyes. It was a blur. Neither of you knew who moved first, only that suddenly you were against one another, your lips locked.
His hands gripped your waist and hips, pulling you into his body. You deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue against his, sucking on it when he tried pulling back. He groaned, his knees feeling weaker in an instant. He whispered your name, kissing down your neck.
You let him pick you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He shuffled out of the elevator and towards your door, grateful that the hallway was empty. He fumbled with his keys, finally shoving it into the lock and stepping inside.
“We’re gonna, like, really do this, huh?” you breathed out, giddy as he let you back down to kick off your shoes and jacket.
He grinned, dimples poking into his cheeks. “Yeah. Gosh, yes.”
He was on you again the moment you both were freed of your outerwear, scooping you up with ease. You worked on his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. It got flung somewhere in the living room. He pressed you to the wall in the hallway, tugging your top off and undoing the button and zipper of your jeans. His lips hardly left yours.
He walked again, leaving a trail of clothes behind like breadcrumbs. The moment he had you on your back in his bed, spread out on top of his sheets like you belonged there, his excitement turned to utter desperation. You watched as he pulled off the glasses he’d worn for the night and suddenly started pulling his belt loose, clearly trying to rid himself of his clothing as fast as he could. You followed suit with a thrilled fervor, shimmying out of your jeans and panties, ripping your bra off and flinging it somewhere unknown.
He groaned deep in his chest when he looked back to see you bare and waiting.
“I don’t deserve you.”
You chewed your lip. “You’re one to talk.”
He swallowed, your gaze burning his skin as it trailed from his chest, to his stomach, settling on his cock, bobbing and drooling, his tip swollen and aching.
“You’re so hot. Holy shit.”
His chest tightened at the rasp in your voice. He crawled on top of you, hands everywhere he could reach. He gripped your skin, lips and tongue and teeth leaving lasting marks down your neck and chest.
“Clark.”
He whined. “I wanna be in you so bad.”
“Do it.”
“N-no. Gotta get you ready first.”
You sighed in ecstasy, his fingers slipping between your legs. You let him kiss you like he needed it to live, two fingers shoved into your needy heat.
“You’re so wet. How are you so wet?” He heaved a few breaths, kisses all along your cheek.
“I was soaked the second you came out of your room before we left. You looked so fucking hot, and you smell so good, and… fuck, Clark, I wanted to choke on your cock when you put those dorky fucking glasses on before we left.”
He groaned pathetically. “You… Do you like the glasses that much?”
“You look like the hottest loser in the world with them on.”
He huffed a short laugh, though it was weak and wrecked. “Noted.”
“Let me suck it.”
“W-what?”
You pushed his hand away. “I’m ready enough. Back up. Please.”
He whined, reluctantly taking his fingers out of you. He shoved them in his mouth, eyes fluttering as he tasted you. You nearly drooled watching it. He let you push him onto his back, eyes locked on you as you took him in your hand.
“Thought you’d feel heavy,” you muttered, sucking his tip into your mouth. A broken noise escaped his chest. You slapped his dick against your tongue, the heft of him even better than you were hoping. “Fuck. Gorgeous cock.”
His hips jerked, his chest heaving. He thanked the heavens he had an abnormal ability to keep it up because he was certain that if he let himself, he would've cum all over your pretty face before you even took him.
You sucked him into your warm, waiting mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you started bobbing your head. He gasped, tiny sounds leaving him at every motion against his desperate length. You felt yourself dripping down your thighs, his cock down your throat further and further every time you went down again.
Your hand stroked what your mouth couldn’t fit, wanting every bit of him to feel cared for. But as good as it felt to suck his pretty cock, the kind of sound that he made when you moved down further caused the slick between your legs to increase even further than you realized your body was capable of.
Your lips closed around one of his heavy balls, your hand still insistently stroking him. His body tensed as he tried not to jerk hard against your face. You sucked on his full sack, alternating each side, unable to fit both in at once (even though you’d made an attempt). He nearly sobbed your name, your hand focusing on the hyper-sensitive head of his length.
You only pulled off when he physically pulled you away.
“Keep it up and I’m going to finish too fast.”
“That’s not bad.”
He huffed, a weak smile on his face. “Trust me, I’d love that any other time. This time, I want to do it right.”
You let him manhandle you, dropping you down against his pillows. He spread your legs apart, one look at how much wetter you’d become and his eyes closed for a few seconds.
“Holy c-crap.”
“What?”
He shook his head, looking back down. “You are just… dripping. Your legs are covered in it.”
“You have a really perfect dick. I got excited.”
He shuddered, rubbing your thigh gently. He knelt between your legs, draping your legs over his. He stroked himself, just staring at you. It was a minute before you made a quiet, impatient noise, finally calling him to action.
Clark pushed his flushed tip through the wetness between your legs. He watched the way your pussy glistened with arousal, his jaw slack and heart pounding. He let his heavy cock rest against your clit, slowly rutting against you just to watch the way your body jolted with the contact. He groaned, his eyes flicking briefly to your face.
“You’re so beautiful. Pretty girl. Pretty… geez,” he huffed, eyes drawn back to your pussy.
He gripped the base of his cock, tapping the blunt head against your sloppy clit, committing the sound of the wet slap to memory. He wanted to make sure he never forgot. He felt desperate. Overcome by need and the way you laid out for him, cunt on display just for him to play with. What an honor.
“Can I put it in?” he mumbled, words slurring from pure want. “Please. Pretty baby, I wanna feel you. You’re so wet. Prettiest p-pussy ever, she’s so cute. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me–”
“Yeah. Yes, Clark, please. Put it in.”
He groaned, his eyes fluttering as he dragged himself down to your opening, chewing his lip as he pressed against you. He gulped, moving forward just enough to let you swallow his head. He gasped, chest heaving.
“O-oh gosh.”
“Fuck, Clark.”
“Mm…”
He adjusted his hips, pulling your lower half up onto his thighs. Your back arched, shoulders still pressed to the mattress as he molded your body to his, letting his cock slip in further until he was fully seated in you. He practically winced, holding back with everything in him.
“Feel better than I thought you’d be,” he mumbled under his breath.
You breathed heavy, hands gripping his wrists where he held your hips as he delivered some shallow thrusts. Your eyes met his. “You’ve thought about it?”
He nodded, any of his usual guilt dissipating. “Yes. Yes, so many times. Knew you’d be perfect.”
“Shit. Here I thought you were a pure little boy scout,” you responded with a short laugh.
“M’not bad. Just… just like you. You’re so… Geez,” he trailed off, head tilting back as his hips moved against yours. “You’re just really nice and pretty. You’re so sweet to me. Couldn’t help it, I just thought about you sometimes when I… when…”
“You jerked off thinking about me?”
He whimpered. “Don’t say it like that.”
“But you did.”
“Y-yeah. I did,” he admitted, pulling you up onto his lap.
Your arms circled his neck as he held you to his chest, thrusting up into you. You tried your best to assist, weakly bouncing on his thighs, but he was Superman, after all: he could very easily move you how he wanted to. And he did. He moved you along his cock with ease until you were quivering and whining his name. He moaned weakly as he felt your teeth sink into his skin, your pussy clenching and squeezing around him. He could hardly stand it, the sound of your soaked pussy even louder after you’d finished for him. He fucked into you with strong arms locking you in place until you were feeling him pump you full of his cum, breathing into your ear like he’d run a marathon.
“Baby. Baby, baby, baby…” he whined, hips jerking a few more times as he babbled against your skin. “Oh, gosh. You’re so perfect, so good, honey. So good, you feel perfect.”
“Clark,” you sighed, blissed out.
He just shook in your grasp, body spent and somehow still so needy for you. He kissed up your neck, his lips moving along your skin. He nipped softly just under your ear. He pulled out of you slowly as his lips moved to your cheek, and finally to your mouth to kiss you properly. His tongue slid into your mouth as he laid you back down on the mattress, dancing along your own tongue. You kissed him back slowly, the action messy and full of want and untold affection. His hands touched your cheeks, moving down over your breasts.
“Gorgeous,” he spoke into your mouth, squeezing the soft flesh. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sighing softly when they pebbled under his touch. “I love these.”
You just smiled, watching him kiss one perky nipple as an act of reverence. His lips moved along your breast, down your stomach, his fingers slipping over your slick pussy, catching on your sensitive little bundle of nerves.
“Wanna taste you,” he whispered against your thigh.
“You just came inside of me, Clarkie.”
He grinned at the name. “I know, baby. We made a mess, I’ll clean it up. Promise.”
His smile widened as your head tilted back, a heavy breath pulled from your lips. He moved his way up, a slow, open-mouthed kiss against your pussy when he finally met her. You moaned, eyes rolling back. He slid one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up further as he licked his cum out of your fucked-out cunt. One hand gripped your thigh, the other kneading your tit, his mouth working you over. He sucked on your throbbing clit, tongue moving over every part of your soft flesh he could taste. Your hips jerked against his face. He chuckled quietly, his voice reverberated through you.
“Shit. Right there, please.” You gripped his hair, panting.
He obliged, eating you out like a man starved. His tongue scooped inside of you, his hips jerking against the mattress, already hardened again at the mixture of your flavor and his. It didn’t take long for him to have you careening over the edge again, gasping and whining, your grip in his hair tighter. He swallowed down everything you had to give him, gently licking you clean until you were begging him to slow down.
“You like it?” He looked at you with raised brows as he shifted his body to be over yours once more.
“So much. Did so good, Clark.”
He brightened at the praise, licking the inside of your mouth like he did your cunt.
“I’m ready again when you are,” he whispered against your lips.
It was a long night. A long weekend, in fact. One that ended in him deciding, while balls deep, that it would probably be a good idea to ask you out at some point.
Clark made it to work that Monday, floating on cloud nine with his head still swirling around little more than you. He smiled to himself as he stepped off the elevator, a pep in his step walking to his desk. He set down his things, scruffing his hand through his hair as he logged into his computer. He hadn’t noticed the suspicious eyes on him.
Jimmy watched him, shaking his head to himself. He let Clark have a moment, clearly elsewhere in his thoughts. But he couldn’t let him stew in love-sick peace forever.
“Dude. I could pretend I didn’t notice you looking at a certain someone like you wanted to pull her into the nearest bathroom stall on Friday night,” Jimmy stated with a sigh, noticing the way Clark’s ears turned bright red before he even turned around. “But seriously, Clark. You definitely got laid this time.”
He was at your window again, tap-tap-tapping on the glass like it wasn't absolutely insane for him to be hovering outside your Gotham penthouse at 5 in the morning.
"Hellooo? Sweetie honey baby-pie, open up!"
You groaned, turning your back to the floor-to-ceiling windows, pulling your pillow up over the back of your head, trying to block out the noise and go back to sleep.
"I see you, love-bug! I'll shatter the glass, Daddy-bats doesn't scare me!"
Oh fuck this. He knew the excessive pet names pissed you off, it was why he did it, just to rile you up.
The asshole was just itching to get on your nerves.
Last time he'd broken into your apartment, Bruce had threatened to shove kryptonite up his ass (in less crude language, but the threat still stood).
But of course, there was no threat strong enough to keep this perverted version of Superman away from you
~~~~~
"He's...volatile," Bruce had explained, "we've done our best to keep him calm, but- well, he's not cooperative in the slightest."
You'd both been sat on the small couch in his office at the manor, him wrapping his arms around you securely, pressing his cheek to the back of your head.
You knew he felt bad about the whole thing, you'd seen the guilt on his face when him and the rest of the senior Justice League members approached you earlier that day, pleading for your help to keep their 'little problem' under control.
Apparently, Superboy Prime had become infatuated with you the day he arrived in your universe, after you chewed him out for bumping into you on the sidewalk outside your workplace.
In his own words it was your "tenacity" that drew him in, but you knew it was really the fact that you spoke to him how most people wouldn't. Not just him, most civilians avoided speaking to any caped hero unless necessary, scared of any bad juju.
But you'd grown up in the lap of the Dark Knight and his allies in the League, so when you saw a vaguely familiar face walking around Gotham in broad daylight, unfamiliar hero suit on display for all to see, you really tore into him.
Somewhere between your third and fourth time calling him a 'goofy looking idiot', he'd fallen for you, and fallen hard.
So when his (much nicer and more mature) counterpart, actual Superman, showed up to drag him to the Watchtower by the scruff, he'd been flailing after you, begging for your name.
You gave your Uncle Clark a long suffering sigh, telling him to keep the new recruits under a tighter leash, never bothering to look too closely at the man wriggling around in his hand.
(Both of you were mortified when Prime, disgruntled at the lapse in attention, barked obnoxiously in midair. Superman seemed to age decades in a split second, and you really couldn't blame him.)
Later, you'd been approached by the people you most respected, your father leading the group with his head hung low, and asked if you would please just speak to Prime for a moment. Supposedly, he'd been threatening to "ret-con" the universe if they didn't at least let him see you.
No one wanted to find out if he was serious about following through, so you shot Bruce a dirty look and walked into his holding cell, a snarl building on your lips.
It was a shock to both yourself and onlookers when Prime immediately shot to his knees in front of you, wrapping his hands around your abdomen and laughing excitedly into your stomach.
You'd spent the next hour talking to him while the rest of the League (and your family) watched from behind a wall of one-way glass.
When he wasn't trying to be a douche, he wasn't even bad company, just a little awkward at actually having someone converse with him. You could even find it in you to feel bad at the fact that he'd been so isolated for so long.
He was honest with you, almost apologetic at the way he'd lost it in your absence. His humor matched your's and you found it fun keeping him on his toes.
When it was time for you to leave, you made the impulsive decision to hug him, whispering that you wished him the best and to please stop threatening your loved ones.
Bad move.
The next deal he struck was to be able to properly court you in exchange for playing nice and following the rules.
Thus, your family looked distinctly guilty every time Prime sought you out, his promise of good behavior earning him the privilege of leaving the Watchtower at will.
More realistically, they could no longer hold him against his will, but tomato-tomahto.
He'd started showing up occasionally, flitting in and out of your periphery, usually catching you on your walk to work, linking an arm through yours and tugging you around the city.
He was sweet with it, bringing you your coffee at the door and cracking jokes that had you doubled over and wheezing. When he walked you back home after work, he'd spin stories of other worlds, other realities of your most precious people, as the two of you rested on a park bench.
You didn't mind most of those moments, almost enjoying the feeling of him properly trying to take you out, a rowdy excuse of a god sniveling after you.
What you dreaded was the visits he'd make at night, clad in his hero suit, banging on your window, and hollering humiliating pet names at the top of his lungs.
~~~~~
"For god's sake, Clark, I'm sleeping, I have work tomorrow, go away." You said, muffled into your mattress.
The next second, he was beside your bed, clicking his tongue and shoving you to the side, "You really ought to get the latches checked, baby, I didn't even have to break in this time."
Of course the latches didn't lock properly, you lived on the 81st floor, the assumption was that no one would get in via window anyway.
You wrenched your head out of your pillow stack, glaring at him blearily, "Clark, if you're not going to sleep then seriously leave."
There was no mistaking what the asshole wanted...
No it wasn't sex.
It was emotional connection.
Dork.
~~~~~
The last time he'd come over around this hour, he'd spoken hushed whispers into your ear about his biggest insecurities, his most haunting fears.
He was deathly afraid of being alone. His powers left him isolated, even beyond any other version of Superman. He couldn't stand the feeling of being disliked and was desperate for something to call his own.
Apparently, that thing was you.
That same night, Clark had run a fingernail down the side of your neck where the two of you were tangled in your sheets, you trying desperately to both be an active listener and get your rest in. He confessed that he "claimed" you, you were now his "MacGuffin" or whatever the hell.
Okay it was 4 AM, you couldn't be bothered to listen too closely.
You did, however, catch his feverish ramblings of how he'd follow you wherever you went, he'd take you to any world you desired, and he'd do anything just for you to stay with him.
He tried to make you mumble out some odd promise to stick by his side no matter what, but you just pushed his head to the side and muffled a scream into your pillow. No matter how much you tried to buck him off your bed, he wouldn't budge, a deadweight against your back.
Finally about to drift off, you heard just one more promise as he nosed incessantly at your neck like a big, clingy cat.
He promised that he would do his best by you, that he would take it slow, be what you needed. He'd behave. But only so long as you stayed yourself.
He'd be good for you, as long as you kept knocking him upside the head and cussing him out.
You, only you.
Now, when he was back with the clear intention to repeat that night, you could only curse your unlucky stars for sticking you with a masochist for a crazy boyfriend.
Something about you made him feel human, and something about him made you feel like a chew toy. It wasn't a great match, but as long as he stayed smushed under your thumb, no longer threatening the universe, it would have to do.
~~~~~
This time, he yanked your head into his lap while he sat back against your headboard. He stroked a hand idly through your hair while keeping his face turned toward the window.
Through one bleary eye, you thought he almost looked rather handsome, bathed in the moonlight like this.
Until he shifted his eyes down to you where you were sprawled out across your bed.
"The day you saw me...I was only stopping over in this world, actually. 'was planning to ret-con you all on my way out, too much discontinuity from canon, y'know?"
Even when you stiffened, he continued on, voice barely above a whisper, "I mean, all of Batman's children keeping so close to the big Bat? This whole "Justice League family" thing you guys have going on? It was so OOC, I was about to tear my hair out. Felt more like some teenager's shitty fanfiction than actual lore-accurate writing."
OOC? Canon? These were terms he'd thrown around before when telling you about the other worlds he'd ended, but he'd never bothered to really explain what they meant. Now you wished you'd pushed a little harder for details.
"But you...at first I thought you were just some dumb author's new reader-insert or OC."
You tried to push up off his lap, but his hands just forced you back down, never stopping their gentle scrapes on your scalp.
"I know better now. You're unique to this world. That makes you uniquely mine. You wanna hear a secret sweetheart? You're the only version of you in any universe I've ever been to. And I'm the only version of me. Aren't we just perfect together?"
He sighed, turning back towards the moonlight, harsh shadows visible along his jawline and on the other side of his nose. His blue eyes seemed to glow lowly in your dim room.
"A match made outside the lore."
He chuckled to himself.
"That saves us from any idiot writer fucking us up for a few decades. You'll always be you, and I'll always be me. The two of us don't exist anywhere outside of this room. I don't exist anywhere except for right here next to you. And for the first time ever...I'm not alone in that."
You let out a sound of discomfort, the parts of him you'd been warned about rearing their ugly heads.
He sighed again, "Go to sleep, baby. I'll be here when you wake up. You've got to be up early, don't you? Have to clock in for Big Bat. Don't worry, you can tell Bruce whatever I said, there are no secrets between us."
And for just a second his form seemed to blur around the edges, eyes glowing a much brighter electric blue.
When he next spoke, it sounded both distorted and absolutely clear at the same time, like he telegraphed it directly into your head.
"And you, cut the cameras already, it's rude to eavesdrop."
~~~~~~~~~~
(A/n: Freaky little man. I'm still on the fence about whether or not I like him, but he's real fun to write about.)
SUCH a boobs man i’ll literally fight to the ends of the earth to prove you wrong.
bruce is sooo old fashioned that whenever you’re wearing a push up dress for a gala, his gaze would shamelessly lower to your boobs with his hands practically itching to cup and fondle them. to his defense, they were staring at him first
like i swearrrrrr his hands would be where your ribs were so he can press his thumbs on the lower part of your boobs
im also a firm believer that whenever this man would fuck you via doggy, the first thing his hands would be grabbing onto would be your boobs. his large hands would be groping them and pushing your body back on his over and over by your boobs, his thrusts rougher and burying his cock deeper in you
it would do nothing but make you gape your lips more and arch your back more into his cock with a moan. bruce let out a groan from your pussy walls clenching more as a response to his hands, his blue eyes darkened with desire and pinned on how his hips snapped at your ass repeatedly
bruce’s lips would trail kisses on your neck until he reached the back of your ear, lightly biting it before whispering filthy things in your ear
“fuck, look at my girls go” yes, he was talking about your boobs. “so warm—" thrust. “and soft--" thrust. “all for me”
—
DICK GRAYSON — both
dick grayson is a greedy man, he wants anything that he could grab
and YES, his hands would grip on your ass and push your pussy more to his length while you’re riding him, burying his face in your cleavage and letting out muffled moans absorbed by your skin from how good you were taking him
“attagirl” dick panted on your chest, his lips glistening with saliva and smeared all over your skin. “just like that— fuuuck, make this dick yours”
you couldn’t say anything. all you could do was mindlessly moan with your head knocked back and lips fully parted, your head dizzy from how his cock was hitting all the right angles in you and how big he was in you
you arched your back and buried his face even more to your chest, making dick moan and push another deep thrust in you. the depth made your hips jerk a bit, but his grip on your ass made sure you stayed on his lap as he slowly took over
your boobs were bouncing in dick’s face from how fast and deep he was dragging you in and out of his twitching cock.
“cmon gorgeous” dick murmured, licking a clean stripe on your cleavage before moaning from your pussy clamping around him. “let me see you make a mess f' me”
—
JASON TODD — ass
now dont get me wrong, jason todd loves every part and curve of your body. but if he had to choose, it would be your ass a million percent— bonus point for thighs too
honestly, he loves when there is something for him to grab on. yes, his hands would slither down your ass whenever you were sitting on his lap and talking to him about your day. yes, his hands would just rest between your thighs when sleeping
and yes, he would bend you anywhere just to see that back of yours arch and press your ass to his hips
a moan of jason’s name left your lips when you felt his cock give you another slow yet deep thrust, your walls fluttering from his size and arching your back to press your ass more for his length
when i meant he would bend you anywhere, i meant anywhere— including the kitchen counter
he would purposely send slow yet deep thrusts just to admire your ass, mesmerized by the way it kept making contact with his hips. it was enough for him to let out sounds of his own
“that’s it, sweetheart” jason grunted with another roll of his hips to send to your pussy, gripping your thighs to keep them spread and pinning his eyes on your ass. “just keep that ass up for me”
—
TIM DRAKE — boobs
timothy jackson wayne-drake is a boobs man, no argument needed
i mean, let’s be for real. it’s no stranger that tim was a workaholic and was often stressed from juggling his two secret lives as tim drake and red robin
but all it took to relieve himself off that stress was to have you sit on his lap and fondle your boob with one hand like a stress toy while the other was mindlessly clicking his mouse
“tim” you whined to get his attention, making him hum back a response without looking away from the monitor and still fondling your boob. the fact that he’s not paying attention to you made the heat between your legs unbearable
so unbearable you would start to slowly grind your clothed cunt on his thigh, biting your bottom lip to conceal your sounds as your eyes stayed focused on tim— blue eyes concentrated on the monitors, blue light reflecting the features of his face and lips pressed into a thin line from how focused he was
“tim please” you panted before a small moan left your lips, arching your back to press your boob more into his hand and trying everything you can to satisfy the aching heat in your core. “need you so bad”
you realized you finally caught his attention when his hand squeezed your boob a bit more, making you let out a whimper and place a hand on his cheek, wanting him to look at you and do something about your urge
“i know, love. i know” tim murmured softly, clicking another piece of evidence with his mouse and circling your nipple with his thumb. “im almost done with work. slide a finger in for me in the meantime, yeah?”
—
CLARK KENT — ass
guys, he’s a farmer’s boy. what else did you expect?
everytime you walked away from him to get or do something, clark’s eyes would always and i mean always trail down to your ass and how it swayed with your walk. and everytime, he would immediately fluster under his glasses and look away, pushing his glasses up as a nervous habit
but when you two were in bed and you were sitting on his face, the last thing this man would be was nervous
“more” clark blabbered on your cunt, gripping and squeezing your ass with your large hands as his mouth. only to bury your cunt more into his mouth and suffocate his face in the best way possible. “moremoremoremore—“
clark could be asking more for two things. more for your delicious pussy that he could never get over or more for his hands to continue fondling and squeezing your ass— knowing him, its both
you moaned from his nose now nudging your clit, tightening your grip on his hair and arching your back more on his mouth. “c-clark… oh my god”
your ass was spread more by clark’s hands that refused to let go and the angle his tongue reached in you made a loud moan of his name leave your lips, now grinding your clit on his nose for more
poor man couldn’t get enough that his hands on your ass kept pushing your soaked pussy more into his mouth, so much so that you thought he was gonna suffocate between your thighs
“taste so good, honey” this man was so pussy drunk it was pathetic. “wanna stay here forever”
—
SUPERBOY PRIME — boobs
clark kent may be superboy but he was still a #loser at heart, which was why he almost never let go of your boobs when he could.
when clark came back home after his shift at the comic store? he let out a tired sigh and immediately walked towards you, already lifting your shirt up and murmuring about his tired day with his face shoved in your boobs
when he would hug you from behind? his hands would slide under your shirt and trail up to cup your boobs. and he’d let out a small whine whenever you’d take his hands off
it’s safe to say that clark kent was obsessed with your boobs. so much so that when your legs were around his waist and his cock was disappearing in and out of you, his hands were groping your boobs. gripping them and playing with your nipples between his fingers as your soft sounds were entering his ears like a melody
“you’re so hot, babe” clark moaned with another thrust to keep up with his pace and depth. “feelin’ amazing, in and out” he gave your boobs another squeeze to make his point
the sounds were quick ‘clap!clap!clap!’ sounds repeating over and over and over in the room
his touch, his words, it was sending you into a frenzy. all you could do was moan and pant endlessly, arching your back and pressing your boobs more into his hands with a whine of his name leaving your lips, throwing your head back into the pillows with a pornographic expression on your pretty face
the new angle made him whimper out “shitshitshitshiiiit” and thrust his cock deeper in your pussy, feeling your pussy suck him in more and his cock already twitching. “im gonna cum already, baby”
—
ROY HARPER — ass
abosutely LOVES your ass its almost unhealthy
roy tries to keep his hands to himself whenever lian is in the same room as him (because he doesn’t play about his babygirl).
but when he looks over her shoulder during their pretend tea time and sees you bending down while rummaging through a cabinet… don’t get me started on that
his eyes would go to your ass and he quietly bites his bottom lip to hold back a grin and those dirty thoughts of his— before lian would make him snap out of it by reminding him to finish his ‘tea’, innocently oblivious from how distracted her dad was
but the minute lian left for a sleepover, the first thing roy made sure to do was to drag you in the bedroom and have you do reverse cowgirl
“uh huh, just like that” he panted, hands gripping on your waist t and watching your ass bouncing back and forth on his cock. a groan slipped out of his lips. “fuuuck, i love this ass. could stare at her all day”
the drag roy’s cock was giving you felt so good it was making you arch your back and moan for more, the wet sounds so filthy and loud it made you thank god lian wasn’t home
“royyy” you whined, feeling the pace of your hips falter despite your orgam just starting to build up in you. “c-cant… need you to t-take over”
you didn’t have to ask him twice. immediately, roy’s hands on your waist took over by dragging your warm walls more onto his length. you felt so warm that he couldn’t help but move his hips back on your ass and knock his head back onto the headboard with a moan
“attagirl” he let out a breathless chuckle from your sounds, lowering his head to admire the view one more time. “just sit there with that pretty ass and let roy do the work, yeah?”
—
WALLY WEST — boobs
if there wasn’t a day where wally west didn’t show love to your boobs, i can assure you that is not him
he loved your boobs. the warmth, the softness, the size, everything. burying his face in your chest with a lopsided grin was wally’s favorite thing to do in the world; nothing sensual, just him absorbing your body warmth and keeping you close to him
can we say he loved them too much? .. maybe
“w-wally! fuck!” you moaned, knocking your head back and burying your hands more into his ginger locks. wally’s mouth was full with the swell of your boob, sucking it while using his super speed to flick your hard nipple with his tongue. his hand gave your other boob attention by fondling it
you can feel your boob practically drenched with his saliva, the sensation of his warm tongue going at such a fast pace driving you crazy.
wally let out a muffled moan when you arched your back and pressed your boob more into his mouth, sliding another hand down to rub a slow circle on your clit with his thumb and hearing a breathless gasp leave you.
“fuck, you’re soaked” he said on your boob. “and i didn’t even touch you properly.” the vibrations of his voice making your clit throb in anticipation. and of course, wally just had to grin from that
“wally…” you panted, bringing your head up to look down at him with pleading eyes. “please.. i need you...”
“shh i know, beautiful” his fingers was tracing your entrance, feeling your folds pulse from how you need him in you. “let me finish giving my girls more attention and ill get back to her later”
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(@patientofarkhamasylum enjoy <3) okay why tf did this take me three days to write bruh.. bring back the olden days where i would have finished this in one go
Summary : in which your father is away at his government meeting so you drag your new bodyguard to go shopping with you. When you ask if you think you’re pretty… professional boundaries are overstepped
WARNINGS : SMUT! 18+ , masterbation, shy pervy Clark , swearing , oral (m receiving) , whimpering, titty fucking, SPITTING, SMALL AGE GAP (five years , reader is 23 Clark is 28) , praise , use of name “Miss” and occasional y/n, P IN V . Raw fucking , TUMMY BULDGE, missionary , finishing inside (reader is on pill) , GETS VERY MESSY. Mentions of pregnancy.
WORD COUNT : OVER 2.3k
OKAY WE DEFINITELY TRIED W THIS ONE
(Proof read but may still have errors) !
INCLUDES SEXUAL CONTENT BELOW THE CUT
MDNI
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Your father was away at an important Government meeting. So you decided to drag Clark shopping, technically he had no choice in the matter. It was his job after all. He drives you willingly to the expensive clothes store and followed you patiently high on alert.
He watches as you grab a few things and you turn to him , voice like honey “i might be a while. You don’t mind do you?”
He rapidly shakes his head arms behind his back and his voice polite clearing his throat. “No Miss, not at all! Take your time!” A shit eating grin grows across your face at how eager he was to impress you. A simple shrug and you walk off to the changing room trying on dresses. You open the curtain modelling a sweet red dress that cascades down your figure and cross your arms looking at Clark standing there awkwardly.
“How’s it look?” You asked his approval and he nods simply and quickly responds “oh! Very nice miss! Very suitable !” You scoff at the lack of attention and raise an eyebrow “nice?? Suitable.. very helpful Clark.” His jaw clenches at your words feeling scolded and again you glare walking back into the changing rooms. This time you pick up a shorter black flowy dress.. one that just about covers your ass and shows off your cleavage before pulling the curtains back.
“How about this Clark?” he was a shade of red. A bright shade of red and a stutter rips from his throat “o..oh! Very nice miss! I.. I like the colour” He barely spits out. This time you wanted more honestly from him and walk towards him and he’s going even more red.
“Do you think I’m pretty Clark?” You flutter your eyes at him slowly tilting your head up and he gulps. “M..Miss I’m! That’s - I’m not at liberty to say.” You scoff at him and try again “sure you can! You’re supposed to protect me right? That includes my feelings!” But again he spits out a reply.
“That’s completely different! I..it’s a very nice dress Miss!” He pushes his glasses up his nose as they slip slightly and clears his throat once more.
“So you think that I look horrible?” You tease him knowing it’s going to get a more stressed response from him. “NO! Miss absolutely not I- I - you look very nice okay?, you should get it!” The look on his face says “please stop” so you shrug going back to the changing room to get back into your clothes before paying for it with your dad’s card so casually. The drive home is awkwardly quiet , he didn’t dare look at you. Not right now. He couldn’t.
So later on when Clark went to his temporary room that your father had assigned him when he was given the job as your bodyguard . He felt terrible. The thoughts of you in that pretty black dress . How your breasts had looked .. how if you bent over even slightly? Oh god. He was a monster. You were literally his bosses daughter. But he was achingly hard.
He waited until he could hear you asleep using his superhearing before laying down on his bed unbuckling his belt.
His large dick bounces out , standing tall at 9 inches throbbing , the tip swollen and furious leaking, the veins bulging out. He slowly hisses wrapping his hand around his dick stroking slowly at first , how wrong it felt only made him more harder. His eyes close slightly arching his back as he pumps his hand a little faster, the other on his mouth as he’s whining quietly as he thinks of you in that Dress… how good you fucking smelled.
He didn’t even know his door was slightly open and you were wide awake. In fact you were watching.
“So you did think I was pretty hmm?” You ask him softly and he yelps rapidly sitting up, his glasses crooked and tucks himself away heart pounding.
“MISS- I- GOSH! I thought you were asleep! IM SORRY! I-“ He puts his hands up in defence , slightly covered in his precum and it only made him more harder that you caught him.
“I asked you a question Clark” you push into the room and he gulps looking even more embarrassed. “Miss please.. this really isn’t appropriate.. I’m really sorry! You should be in bed” He gulps.
“Do you really want me to go ? Hmm?” You sit on the bed next to him and he’s breathing heavily “No! I mean yes! I - I - I’m your bodyguard. This is unacceptable… I could get into a lot of trouble with your father”
A small giggle leaves your throat looking at him sweetly “But he isn’t here .. is he? Cmon… do you think I’m pretty clarky?” you push again and he nods slightly.
“I .. I do think you’re pretty Miss.. now please.. go…to bed” It came out almost as a whine. But oh you weren’t done teasing him. “Do you want help ?”
That was it. He almost came in his pants at the question and he’s sat stunned. “That’s .. that’s really inappropriate… I.. you…” so you waited again.
“I asked a question Clark .. I won’t tell anyone.. you don’t even have to..” You tried to reassure him sweetly and he completely caves. He’s ashamed .. disgusted .. he’s supposed to protect you. And then he asks. He pushes it way further “C.. can you please go put that dress on?” was stuttered out. So you nod and return in the short black dress before crawling onto the bed and he spreads his legs shyly.
“You really don’t have to Miss- I.. “ But you cut him off reaching for his pants “may I?” He rapidly nods “please Miss.. please… m’sorry.” He kicks them off and lets out a sharp whine as you wrap your small hand around his large dick and slowly pump your hand. “You fucking little Perve.” You scoff at him and he bucks his hips shamelessly.
“m’real sorry Miss .. you’re .. you’re just so pretty” He finally says it. A massive grin across your face before you’re taunting him.
“Say that again for me” you lean down more pressing a kiss to his oozing tip making him groan deeply “you’re real pretty miss..FU- gosh” He inhales sharply as you wrap your mouth around his tip and oh he’s trying so hard to behave. The sight of you barely able to fit him all in your mouth already bulging just from the tip could’ve finished him right there. So when you started taking more of him into your mouth swilling your tongue along his veins he was done for.
“G…gosh! Jeez you’re awful pretty like that Miss” He whines and you slowly pull your mouth off, drool and precum stringing, making him hiss at the loss of contact. You slowly take your breasts out of the black dress and his jaw drops.
“You think these are pretty Clark? You think your bosses daughters tits are pretty” you tilt your head at him and he’s a complete mess, He’s gently about to reach out and you slap his hand away.
“What did I ask Clark?” And he stumbles over his words but he was so desperate to touch you. “They’re really pretty miss.. I … I love them” He grazes his fingers over your hard nipples making you gasp softly at how soft his hands were , a needy whine almost ripping from you. You look at him softly.
“Spit on them Clark.” You command sharply and he stutters. “W..what! Miss! No! That’s! No ! D..disrespectful” But the glare you give him , he spits on your breasts allowing the spit to flow down the valley of your breasts and you grin wrapping them around his dick and a sharp Nasty groan splutters out. You slowly allow him to buck his hips into your breasts fucking them slowly while you suck his tip and he’s close to being ruined from this alone.
“NGHH! G..oh my gosh! Miss! That feels! Oh! You’re so pretty! Such a pretty dress.. oh pretty breasts” He bucks his hips faster shamelessly muttering soft little “sorry Miss” He fucks up into your mouth more gliding across your breasts and groaning reaching his hand down to gently push your head down more. He felt disgusted.. not in you. Himself. But oh he felt like the only man in the world right now.
He felt himself getting close. “Miss I’m .. gonna” before he can even finish his sentence ropes of cum spill into your mouth and he’s whining rutting more. You pull off and his dick is still spluttering cum onto your breasts and dress ,you look at him swallowing half and looking down spitting the cum onto your breasts ,letting it flow he’s hard again. Some of it spills onto your dress.
“Gosh! Miss I’m real sorry .. that dress is expensive.. t..thank you for helping” he’s a shade of red and his glasses are steamed up and he pushes them up his nose again.
“That’s okay.. it can be washed .. since it’s already a mess. I’ll keep it on… do you think I’m pretty enough to fuck ?” You tilt your head and he’s breathless again.
“Miss ! I couldn’t do that.. I wouldn’t want to hurt you !” He stutters out worried.
“Pretty please Clark” you ask oh so sweetly. How was he supposed to say no to you. He hesitates before gently laying you down on his pillow and really looks at you slowly taking off your thong noticing how soaked you are.
“You sure Miss?.. you’re not gonna tell anyone.. don’t wanna lose my job.. like protecting you” you nod promising quickly linking your pinky with his and he carefully hovers over you , pressing a kiss to your linked pinkies before taking off his shirt revealing his slightly ripped torso and large muscles.
“I’m on the pill.. just thought I’d let you know” you beam
“I’ll be real careful Miss” He slowly pushes into you watching your mouth dropping open at the agonising stretch. He’s bigger than any man you’ve ever had sex with. “May I kiss you Miss?” You nod again and he slowly leans down kissing you deeply as he pushes into you more , your tongue glides with his and you gasp into his mouth “you’re doing so good Miss.. just breathe for me!” He groans weakly allowing himself to completely sink into your pussy giving you just a little while to adapt.
“Feel real good Miss.. you look so pretty like this” He starts fucking you with a pace groaning louder and holding onto your hips like you’re fragile. You were letting out pretty little squeaks and he was spurring him on even more fucking his hips into you relentlessly and notices the bulge sticking out of your stomach and he pushes onto it gently making you yelp in pleasure “OH! Clark!” You squeak out and he tilts his head again. “Oh! Can you feel me there Miss. You’re so pretty when you’re full of me aren’t you Y/N?” You shriek out arching your back making him fuck you at a deeper angle and he’s groaning and whining.
“Your pussy is prefect miss.. so nice of you to do this NGh! Thank you Miss” So when you close your eyes just for a second he leans down gently grazing your face with his thumb.
“Need to see your pretty eyes on me Miss.. gotta see your pretty face” so when you open your eyes he slings your legs over his shoulder folding you in half and he’s groaning fucking you deeply not taking his eyes off you for even a second.
“g..GOSH! Perfect miss! So pretty” you moan sweetly pulsing around him and biting your lip while looking at his pretty blue eyes. “Shit Clark! Feels so good! You’re perfect. Oh fuck!” You sobbed out spurring him on even more as he pounds into you deeply tears rolling down your face.
“Oh Y/N.. miss.. don’t cry for me.. you’re so beautiful” he whines fucking your pussy harder letting his cock get brutally soaked by your arousal , he was getting close. So were you.
“Gonna cum for me miss? Gonna look awful pretty” so when you do reach your high and keep your eyes on him. Coiling around him and jaw dropping. It sends him over the edge ropes and ropes of cum spilling inside you and he’s whimpering fucking his cum into you deeper and pressing his lips to yours sweetly allowing you to feel at ease with him. He kept cumming and the more he thrusts it into you the more it gushes out making your pussy all swollen.
“You are absolutely more than pretty Miss.. especially in that dress” He slowly pulls out and cum drips endlessly soaking his bed , your breasts and beautiful dress were still soaked in his cum and he gasps panicked.
“Wait .. Miss! Oh my god! Protection! I’m gonna get you pregnant ! Oh I’m gonna lose my job! Your father is gonna be so mad! Miss I’m real sorry.” He panics and you let out a giggle.
“Miss please it’s not funny” he gasps and you grab his face “I’m on the pill remember? Silly!” You peck his lips and he gasps in relief grabbing a cloth to clean you up and he takes a deep breath as he’s gently wiping your breasts clean.
“You okay Miss?” He smiles as you nod.
“You okay?” You return the question to him and he beams “Miss your satisfaction is more important, but yes. I am okay.”
He finishes cleaning you up and takes a deep breath guiding you to your room and huffs gently “sorry about your dress miss.. get it cleaned as soon as you can” He looked really guilty.
“That’s okay Clark.. it’ll be fine.. I’m just glad you think I’m pretty.. sorry about the mess on your bed!” You beam teasingly at him and he points his finger at you.
“Okay watch it little miss! You know you’re pretty ! Don’t make me prove it to you again… and it’s fine.. it can be cleaned.”
So you just giggle at him and flutter those pretty little lashes at him. “Oh we both know you will”
And he’s fucked. Because he knows for fact he will.
Because you didn’t even notice .. him pocketing your underwear shamelessly.
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Hi! Uhm hello!?? I don’t know what to think about this ? My first Clark Kent smut?? IF YOU LIKE IT PLEASE LET ME KNOW:))
It was the fourth time today that you asked your supervisor for help teaching you how to save the files into the Daily Planet system. You had tried to do it by yourself, but it was nothing short of a disaster.
Thoughts were racing in your head as you waited for him to come to your desk.
Was he regretting choosing you?
Was he annoyed with you?
Was he going to fire you?
You looked through the little mirror you set up at your desk and searched for none other than Clark Kent.
It was easy to find him. The 6’3 ft body covered in muscles didn’t exactly make him small.
His body easily covered yours.
You watched as he stopped talking to Jimmy. He looked at his phone, and shit, he looked over.
You quickly looked away, trying to hide your beet red face. Your leg twitched nervously, and you rolled your chair closer to the desk.
You tried not to think about the man that was walking to you with a kind smile on his face. His glasses made him look younger than his late-thirties. But his muscles contradicted everything else.
“What’s wrong?” he asked and crouched down to meet your eyes.
You forgot your words for a moment.
“I…umm. Well, I am having trouble… can we review how to save the files into the system? It led me to a different page, and well I don’t wanna make a mistake…” You started to ramble nervously, blushing.
Please let him ignore the blush.
Clark chuckled and smiled, amused. “Of course we can. Let's go to your desk so I can show you…again,” he agreed playfully. But underneath the amusement, there was something darker.
He stood back up and moved so that he could lean behind you and guide you. He placed his hands above you, soft and secure and started to guide you through the process.
You didn’t focus on his explanation. Instead, you could only focus on the veins that painted his hands. About the strong grip he had on your hands, and the warm breaths on your hair.
The things that he could do to you, and you would let him.
Fuck.
How would his hands feel inside you…?
Would he stretch you completely with only one finger?
Would he make you feel full?
Images of you leaning against the desk while he pumps his fingers slowly into you, dragging out the orgasm you would start to have. Torture you ever so slowly while you leaned and took it.
Your skirt lifted, and you felt him move closer to your ear.
His chest touched your back, and your breath hitched. “You always wear this fucking skirt like it's nothing,” he whispered in your ear. His voice was dark; demanding. He waited for something long enough, and he finally snapped.
His finger wandered slowly higher up your thighs. Every once in a while he would tighten his grip, but he took his time.
He wasn’t ready for you to have fun yet.
He would drag this out.
He would make sure you would enjoy each of his fingers one by one.
His hand travelled to your lacy panty. He slowly moved it to the side and started to rub up and down gently. You gasped quietly but let him continue.
This is so wrong, but god you needed it. You craved him.
A finger entered you, and it felt better than you thought. He thrust in, and you moaned.
“Shut it, sweet girl,” he murmured and continued pushing in and out. But you couldn’t repress the moans.
“Clark..” you whimpered as he pushed the third finger into you.
You pushed yourself into his finger more and more, chasing the orgasm that was starting to build.
“You know it's against HR policy. This skirt is so short, but nobody will say anything,” he whispered in your ear “Everyone wants to see your ass. So perfect and round, so mine. Imagine the disappointment they feel when they found out I got you first. ”
The more he whispered dirty things in your ear, the wetter you got. You didn’t care about anybody hearing you anymore. You just wanted to come.
The sound of your fluids could be heard as he fastened the paste of his finger. You gripped his wrist; your moaning became even more uncontrolled.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Clark, please. Please.” He kept thrusting more and more, stretching you out even more.
He took his hand off your wet pussy, now filled with your own cum. “You see how wet you are for me?”
You nodded, licking your lips.
“Good,” he praised you and pushed them in your mouth. “Taste yourself. Do you understand that you can wear it only around me?”
You nodded, and he repeated himself…
…
“You understand it now?”
…
You shook your head, and you looked at Clark's soft smile staring at you. “You understand it now?”
That’s right. He was showing you how to save the files to the system.
Your eyes went to the monitor in front of you, and you nodded “Oh… Yeah. Yeah, I think... I think I understand it now. I didn’t see this section. Thank you, Clark,” you thanked him without meeting his eyes.
Clark stepped back, giving you more space “Of course, it's a very old system, so we always have to explain it to the new hires multiple times,” he explained gently.
You nodded, putting your hands in your lap, still avoiding looking at him directly. “Thanks…again”
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀
Days passed, and you decided to ask anyone else for help but Clark. Your cheeks still burned whenever you thought about what you had imagined.
You shook your head aggressively and groaned, annoyed at not being able to sleep. Again.
You opened your phone and looked at the time.
12:07 am.
Damnit!
Sleeping shouldn't be this hard, yet the sleepless nights have been happening more and more frequently.
You dropped your phone to the other side of the bed and closed your eyes again, but you had opened Pandora’s box, and the only thing that you could imagine was Clark Kent above you, pushing his dick inside you and filling you with his cum.
You opened your eyes, and it was your dark room again.
Why were you imagining more and more about Clark Kent fucking you in your office? Were you ovulating? You probably were.
You grabbed your phone and went to your period tracker. It agreed.
You threw your phone, groaning, frustrated, and needy.
“I need to move Cities,” you groaned and let your hands travel to your panties. “ I wish I could call Clark so that he can take me out of my misery.”
Your fingers moved your panty aside, and you started rubbing it. Your eyes closed, and the only thing that you could imagine was Clark fucking you in his office with his hand covering your mouth.
“Yes,” you whisper in pleasure and sank deeper into the fantasy.
His cock pushed hard against your pussy from behind “My little princess. So eager to take my cock. To let me use you and fill you,” he groaned, thrusted in and out of you rapidly.
You moan against his palm.
“Yesss, fuck Clark. Use me as much as you want,” you moaned and gasped when his dick slammed into your g-spot. He continued hitting the spot until you came.
It felt so real.
So real.
So damn delicious.
“I will stretch this cunt until the only man that can give you pleasure is me. Your pussy won’t feel any man but me. You are mine,” his hand moved from your mouth to your throat, and you moaned happily. You didn’t care if anybody could hear your moan anymore.
Let them hear you.
Let them know that Clark Kent took you, and that your body belonged to him now. Nobody would give you the pleasure you have been craving since you met him.
You reached your second orgasm.
Clark's hand brushed your breasts and moved to your waist. He pulled you aggressively into his dick, and you let out a scream.
“Fuck, Clark. Deeper. Please go deeper,” you begged loudly.
“Deeper?”
A masculine voice cut you off from your dream
Your eyes snapped open, and you looked around.
Oh god no.
With terror in your eyes, you looked at your phone. The name ‘Clark (work)’ was on the screen. 10 minutes and 23 seconds was the time on the call.
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