📞 husband!clark leaving you a moaning voicemail after you miss his call
⤷ clark kent masterlist┊david corenswet masterlist┊taglist₊⊹ . ݁˖
You come back into the apartment of your friend, closing the balcony door as you step inside. Immediately you notice your phone vibrating on the kitchen counter.
One missed call. From Clark.
Before you can call back, a voicemail comes in.
You lift the phone to your ear, already smiling, because Clark only ever leaves voicemails when he’s too flustered to text.
The message clicks on, and all you hear at first is his breathing. Deep and strained. Shaky in a way you never hear from him unless he’s unraveling for you.
“Sweetheart…” his voice is coming from a low place, thick with heat, “…you didn’t pick up.” He’s alone at home, must have been thinking about you too much.
There’s a soft thud, maybe his head hitting the headboard, and a sound you know is him dragging a hand down his fat cock. Oh, he’s needy.
“I was just calling to see when you’re coming home,” he says, but the words fall apart at the edges, dissolving into a quiet, helpless groan. “God— I’m trying to wait for you. I am. But you have no idea what thinking of you does to me.” Fabric shifts. The faintest wet sound. He’s not even trying to hide it.
“I’m lying here thinking about you walking through that door…” His breath stutters, and you can picture him perfectly: flushed, curls mussed, chest raising as he spreads his muscular thighs apart, cock growing harder, tip becoming redder. “…thinking about how fast would you get on top of me.”
Another moan, this one deeper, almost bitten off. He must’ve tried to hold it back.
“You should hear the way your name sounds when I’m like this,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a sinful whisper that feels like his lips brushing your ear. “I’m not gonna finish without you. I won’t. But I’m getting close, honey.”
Your name falls from his mouth in a wrecked exhale.
“I hope— ahm… you’ll be back soon.” A little shiver presses him, whipping him to whimper to you. The sound makes you want to touch yourself, it’s so hot when he talks like that. It’s even sweeter he isn’t even aware of it.
“Or…if you can’t.” Couple of seconds stretch the pause which is extended by his slightly distant breaths, erupting into the air above him.
“Call me back… please.”
The voicemail ends, leaving nothing but the pounding of your own pulse.
Something feels right about Clark Kent loosing his virginity on the Kent Farm when he just got back from his first internship in the city, in the fall — slipping out and fucking you right in the middle of his family's cornfield.
Quiet corner between the tall, privacy of swaying greens, he'd have his pants shoved barely halfway down his thick thighs, wincing bullying his cock into your impossibly tight cunt.
G—osh sweet girl…open up f'me — e-easy…
He swears he sees stars at the very first time you pulse around him, raw — feeling every sensation, velvety tight walls as he humps you silly & uncoordinated on the softer patch of hays in the secluded corner.
What's probably made it one of the best moments and memories of his life was how you'd let him cum in you, hard and throbbing. Of course, he's apologetic about finishing far too quickly, so he spends the next few hours folding your knees to your chest to fuck you.
By the end of it, he'd be a blubbering mess, tears pricking the corner of his eyes from overstimulation. You're too fucked out to notice how loud and obscene the snap of his pelvis into your sticky thighs were with how fast he was going.
M-My gosh, y're…so…so pretty. Wanna c-cum in you…f'rever.
All while he's pounding into you, hips a mind of its own, even when he's so damn spent — he'd die a happy man, with your pussy milking his cock dry.
🐻synopsis: you and miguel are expecting a baby! miguel feels like he can handle anything that comes with the ups and downs of pregnancy...except maybe your pregnancy pillow.
🐻words: 2.7k
🐻cw: x pregnant reader, tho reader's gender isn't explicitly mentioned, established relationship(marriage), mostly just domestic fluff and crack, a suggestive remark so, minors dni.
🐻a/n: i'm alive miguel nation 😩💕 i had this idea for a sec and super happy to finally get it done. hope you enjoy & don't maim me for it being so long since i wrote for this man 😭 i'm still continuing my series for him & have a couple new ideas which will come out... eventually i hope 😬 anywho enjoy! @eveningatthemoviesnetwork
🐻teddy bear dividers: @/saradika-graphics, brown solid dividers: @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more. sparkles: @/anitalerina
Baby. A buzzword for you and Miguel that carried excitement, love, and fear wrapped into one.
Parenthood was a tender spot for Miguel ever since the loss of Gabi, but it was a path he always hoped he would venture down again, that is, if he ever found someone worthy to do it with.
Someone patient enough to crack through that tough layer of walls he held up that were sculpted by trauma, sustained by loneliness and the heavy and all-consuming burden of holding the multiverse together that would scare any reasonable person off.
But not you.
Somehow you managed to slowly and patiently crumble each one that lead you to where you are now, with a ring on your finger and the product of your happily ever after blooming in your belly like a strong little sprout.
Two little pink lines and your life became a whirlwind before you knew it.
You couldn't be more over the moon for your bundle of joy that was wanted and planned down to the shade of pink for the nursery and the brand of luxury car seat that was already buckled in Miguel's Audi.
As the days went on, along with the growth of your excitement and amount of baby clothes around the penthouse, so did your discomfort.
Miguel took everything in stride, being at your beck and call as much as he possibly could.
Morning sickness? He's there with ginger ale and Tums. Sleepy? Quit your day job if you want so you can stay in bed and sleep. Miguel's net worth is quadruple times what you both need to survive on anyway. He's more than happy to take care of you.
Middle of the night cravings? Piece of cake. (Literally) As much cake as you want. Smoothies, lemonade, noodles, enchiladas, fried chicken, you name it, and it's yours. DoorDash fees were never an issue for him anyway.
But, there is one thing Miguel hasn't gotten used to, and one thing he isn't so sure he'll accept anytime soon.
It's not until he comes out of your master bathroom and into the bedroom one evening that he sees the imposter waiting for him.
It's big. Long and weirdly shaped. Like an upside down letter "U" for "unwelcome".
Miguel watches you eagerly curl up to it like a cat, letting out a sigh that could be heard around the world as you settled into position, hooking your legs around the wedge that made your hips align to take off the massive strain on your back as your belly grew.
"That's it. Ughh this is what I'm talking about right here." You groan with sweet relief and Miguel raises an eyebrow.
"You don't moan that loud for me." He gets into bed, putting on his reading glasses with more sass than necessary.
"Do I seriously sense jealousy from my husband over a damn pillow?"
Miguel blew air between his lips, crimson eyes practically every shade of green envy imaginable. "Hell no."
He pretends to read for about five seconds, then asks out of the corner of his eye.
"Where'd you find that anyway?"
"Amazon." You hum between a loud yawn.
"They make pillows for pregnant people nowadays?"
You sigh. "Yes, Miguel. They make pregnancy pillows. You need to get with the times." You scold him with your eyes closed, keen on getting rest and not really in the mood to entertain his dumb questions after your back was killing you all day. "You were literally in the room when I ordered it."
Miguel pauses and tries to think back to when you did but his mind is foggy. Shock, he was probably busy when you did. Not with his credit card though, right? This big ugly thing. What a waste of money.
It's almost comical how huge it is as it dwarfs your figure, looking humongous despite the fact you and Miguel had a custom made California king bed due to Miguel's size.
Well damn, is that what he really looks like in comparison to you when y'all are cuddling?
Soon, you're snoring away though, and Miguel is left with his thoughts like usual. He better skip the book and get some sleep.
He closes his novel, face softening with affection only you could draw out of him. He brushes his thumb across your cheek thoughtfully a few times before he turns out the light.
As long as that thing doesn't get in my way. He thinks to himself before he drifts off.
That damn pillow did in fact get in his way.
The whole night he was tossing and turning, finding the pillow jutting and invading his side of the bed, a couple times nearly falling off the edge when he woke up to you and your annoying new purchase leaving him less than a foot long of extra space.
Back pain and Miguel are no strangers, but this one is on a whole new level.
Oh he does not like your new pillow. Not one bit. He hates it, loathes it even. That stupid, misshapen pillow. Big and ugly. It even has the audacity to be yellow. Miguel fucking hates yellow.
"Nasty ass color. You look like they killed SpongeBob and used his hide to make a pillowcase." He mutters as if it can hear him.
What's even more frustrating is you love that pillow. It could do zero wrong in your eyes.
Ever since that damn pillow showed up, Miguel's romance with you has been reduced to a desert of tumbleweeds. He can't remember the last time you and him cuddled, since nowadays you're always cuddling that goddamn pillow.
He wants to see you happy, he really does. But not at the expense of his sleep, his sanity, and his marriage for crying out loud.
Day after day, he wakes up from the turmoil the pillow put him through the previous night. He can feel his eye twitching as you gain even more rest while his continued to dwindle.
So, like all desperate people with marriage problems, Miguel does the sensible thing and turns to the world of Reddit.com for advice.
He's astonished to discover he's not the only one. There's countless other harrowing stories of disgruntled and sleep deprived spouses of pregnant people out there, all suffering thanks to those blasted pregnancy pillows.
He lurks on several posts on the "Am I the Asshole" subreddit, watching poor fellow men get dragged and dubbed YTA for hating on such a trivial thing that was supposed to provide your pregnant spouse much needed and deserved comfort, being told to suck it up and sleep on the couch or get a hotel if it's truly that bad.
Miguel starts second guessing himself into a spiral.
"That's enough Internet for one day." He utters, closing his laptop and rubbing the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh.
---
A few weeks later, you go out of town with some of your friends, getting in one more trip as a group before the baby arrives, leaving Miguel home alone with the pillow since it was far too large to fit in your suitcase.
"I can't believe you're even letting me go on this trip." You tut, stepping out of the car in the airport drop off area. "Especially knowing how overprotective you've been ever since that damn test came back positive."
Miguel shrugs as he unbuckles his seatbelt. You weren't wrong, but as of late with all this lack of sleep he's been getting thanks to your pregnancy demands, perhaps a trip for you is in order to help him recuperate.
"Course not. You deserve a break, mi vida. You've been stressing yourself too much with the baby registry." He makes up an excuse on the spot.
"Well don't have too much fun while I'm gone." You wink at Miguel, aware of the sacrifices he's been making as of late while you're pregnant, including all the gentle parenting research and scouring online reviews for the best pediatrician in Nueva York.
"I'll try not to." Miguel replies as he unloads your suitcases at the airport.
You look at your big sleepy husband, unable to resist a chuckle at his disheveled aura, but no less irresistible, sporting tousled chocolate locks and a five o'clock shadow despite his tendency to be clean shaven.
"You almost have more baggage than me." You tease, pointing out his under eye bags. "Will you at least try to get some sleep while I'm gone? What are you doing for dinner?"
Miguel shrugs. "We have ramen, right?"
"Oh my God, O'Hara. How'd you survive before you dated me?"
"What's wrong with ramen? And I survived just fine, thanks. Besides why would I worry about it now when you can't get enough of that damn crockpot and all those 10 minute meal recipes'?"
"Uhm that's highly debatable and I'd smack you right now but I have a flight to catch."
He smiles as you kiss him and try to shimmy out of his embrace when he goes back in for another, landing a playful pat on your ass as you make your way for the airport entrance.
"I love you. Text me!"
-----
He's finally alone at the penthouse. What now?
Miguel stares at the pillow on the bed. It's the perfect opportunity for it to accidentally go "missing", inviting Peter B. over for a visit and letting his annoying new puppy get a hold of it. Maybe "accidentally" have his claws out when he's doing laundry, leaving it a shredded mess.
Maybe he should just set that bastard on fire.
Miguel shakes his head. What is he, nuts? He can't do something like that to you, as fucked up as it is.
"What's the big deal about this thing anyway?" Miguel wonders aloud as he crawls on the bed, getting into position with the pillow between his legs just like he's seen you do it.
Hold on a sec, this is kinda comfy.
Wait wait, he's getting ahead of himself. Don't forget, this thing almost ruined your marriage. Don't let it off the hook so easily.
Miguel relaxes again, ever so slightly.
Oh fuck, this does feel nice.
Immediate relief ripples up and down his aching spine for the first time in what feels like weeks.
This shit is pure magic. So soft. What's this thing made out of? The feathers from the goose that laid golden eggs? Definitely something that needs to be imported from a different country. It was way too luxurious to be anything ordinary.
It envelopes him like a hug, he's almost as cozy as when he's cuddling you like no worries in the world existed.
God, the last time he was held like this was...in the womb, maybe?
"I'm only gonna rest my eyes." Miguel announces as though he's making an invisible bet with himself before he closes them.
---
"Miguel. MIGUEL!!!"
Miguel jerks awake with a puddle of drool on his chin, groaning and completely hungover from sleep.
"Mierda..." (Shit) He stretches, rubbing his dry eyes, scleras bloodshot thanks to his contacts he forgot to remove. "¿Qué pasó?(what happened) Did I fall asleep?"
Lyla floats by his head, arms crossed with a displeased look on her face, examining her nails. "You call that 16 hour coma you just woke up from sleep?"
"Holy..." Miguel begins to come to his senses as panic sets in. "Shit. What time is it?"
"9:06 am."
"Shock. Shock shock shock shock." Miguel struggles to sit up. "Lyla, how quickly can I get to HQ?"
"Well, seeing as you're already running two hours behind, I can see if they're forgiving enough to push your 9 am to 10:30. That way you'd only be a half hour late instead of an hour late."
Miguel curses under his breath, massaging his temples as he falls back into his fortress of coziness. "Fuck it, cancel it. I'm calling off."
Lyla raises her pixelated eyebrows. Miguel calling off work was like snow in July. Improbable if not virtually impossible. But, she doesn't argue. It must be a pretty damn good reason for such a rare occasion.
"Aye aye, captain."
She disappears and Miguel is left to his own devices once more. He looks at the pregnancy pillow, ashamed of what he's become.
You're not gonna be stoked about the fact that he basically stole your number one comfort item right from under you when you get home. But, its softness quickly makes him forget about all of that, sleep is slowly pulling at his eyelids again, begging for rest.
"Just one more hour." Miguel lies to himself before he closes his eyes.
----
Days pass and before you know it, it's already time to come back from your trip. One of your close friends drives you home, since your flight arrived during when Miguel would be at work. Relaxation and time spent with the besties was much needed, however you're definitely missing your husband by now, particularly in such a vulnerable state with your baby growing in your belly.
Miguel has been more chipper than usual lately on the phone for some unknown reason. Whatever it is, you're just looking forward to being back in his arms again. Except when you enter your penthouse, it's oddly quiet.
"Mig?" You hang up your keys and park your carryon next to the door, slipping off your shoes and settling into the comfort of home that wrapped you up after being away.
You check the time, and technically it is still work hours. It's possible he isn't home yet. All the hustle and bustle from traveling and the airport has got you exhausted. It's definitely time for a nap.
You immediately make your way towards your master bedroom, in search of your handy dandy pillow, when you're shell shocked to discover it's currently in use and occupied by an individual you suspected the least of stealing it, none other than your lovely husband, Miguel, all 6 foot 9 inches of him snoring away like a lawn mower with a flip flop caught in the engine.
You should be pissed he's stolen yet another one of your things, giving you the lame excuse of "We're married. Therefore everything between us is shared custody by default."
However, the sight of him curled up with this giant pillow, umber hair messy, cheeks smooshed with a little drool leaking out is so comical, you can't bring yourself to cuss him out, yet. It's hilarious seeing Miguel next to something that makes a giant like him appear small for once. After all those sly comments and complaints of his about that pillow, here he is, snoozing like a baby without any shame.
"Ahem." You gently rouse him, but he stays asleep like a giant rock. "Miguel!" You poke him a little harder, trying to shake him out of his sleepy stupor like he's dead weight.
"Huh?" Miguel's bloodshot eyes snap open.
"Sleeping Beauty. This here's my castle." You tease, trying to pull the pillow away from him. "Get your own."
"Uh...nghh...lo siento(I'm sorry)... I was just...yawn" Miguel shifts, nuzzling his cheek against it. "Doing the laundry..."
"Miguel, I'm tired..."
"I know, I know...just..." Miguel continues to lose the fight, not able to shake the death grip the pillow has him under. "S'not what it looks like..."
"Here, move over." You try and squeeze on the pillow next to him in every which way, but it's no use.
"Five more minutes then it's all yours..." He yawns tirelessly again. "Te lo prometo..." (I promise)
You sigh and even though you should be frustrated, you can't stay mad at your big sleepy spouse. Especially not for shaving some time off his enormous sleep deficit from being on call 24 hours a day whenever the multiverse needed saving.
"Fine, but I'm doing a little online shopping once you're awake." You mutter, leaning in and kissing Miguel's cheek, not missing how his mouth twitches as though he was fighting a smile in his sleep.
Fair enough.
---
Just a few days later, you're sporting a brand new pink pregnancy pillow next to its yellow counterpart like the two best friends on the undersea cartoon on TV that you feel asleep watching together, hands outstretched as the fire illuminates the precious stones on your complementing rings, getting as much sleep as you both can until the small feet in your belly will eventually light up the peaceful halls of your penthouse while the city buzzes outside underneath the late autumn sky.
Content: Virgin!Clark. Mainly David!Clark but MAWS!Clark can apply here too. He's such a dork here. Reader has only been dating him for a few months. First time sex. Loss of virginity. Vaginal Fingering. Oral sex (M! receiving). Vaginal sex. Condom use. Then the condom breaks. Minors DNI!
A/N: Virgin!Clark...one of my favorite genders. I hope you all enjoy!
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Breedvember 'M.List
“Wait so, you really are a virgin?”
“Shh!”
You heard that when you walk by the duo at the Daily Planet, Clark and Jimmy, on your way to get some punch. Clark shushed Jimmy with a hand over his mouth as if he was going to say more.
You pretend you didn't hear it, waiting for the cup to fill. But of course Jimmy wasn't exactly a quiet whisperer.
“I thought you were joking when you said that while we were working on that sex positivity column.”
Clark snorts, “Why would I joke about being a virgin?” You could picture Jimmy shrugging and your boyfriend shaking his head at a loss. “I've never had sex before, what's the big deal?”
“Nothing, it's just…I'm surprised.”
So were you. Yeah, you've only dated Clark for five months and all of those times you two were keeping it low key. To hear that your sweet, dorky, huge boyfriend is a virgin was very unexpected.
You'll touch on that later. Your cup is full, and now you have a duty to rescue your boyfriend from embarrassment.
You stride over to the huddle the guys have set by the water cooler, far from where everyone was mingling at the party. “What ya guys talking about over here?”
Clark straightens up, looking away for a moment then back to you again, “Nothing. Just going over…sports.”
“…sports?”
“Yep!” Jimmy cuts in, “You know how us guys are.”
You hold back any hint of amusement, not believing this is what they went with. “Okay. Well, the girl by the copier asked about you, Jim.”
He immediately perks up and locks in on his target, the intern giggling with a few other coworkers. She was cute, not so bright, but enough for a distraction.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Something about she wanted to know the type of film you use in your photo…”
You didn’t need to say anymore when he leaves, saying goodbye to you and Clark in passing. The sight of Jimmy putting on that boyish charm makes you and your boyfriend shake heads.
“Did the intern really want to ask about Jimmy’s film?” Clark asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or was this an attempt to get me alone with you?”
“Which question would you prefer I answer?”
He grins when you boop cups, hands lingering for a second longer than they should. You know he’s itching to hold your hand right now, the flex he gives says it all. But he resorts to you by his side, brushing shoulders.
“Actually, I heard you and Jimmy talking. You know…about…”
Clark blushes when he looks away, more disappointed than embarrassed. “I had a feeling you heard. I told Jimmy to work on his whispering. I can hear him from across the room sometimes.”
“Yeah no, he’s loud. But Clark,” You lean forward, breath against his neck. “why didn’t you tell me you’re a virgin? Hell, I found out you were Superman first. Which secret do you think is more important right now?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you wouldn’t think…highly of me if I told you.”
You blink incredulously, “What? I need to know the logic with that because there’s a low statistic of men your age that are virgins.”
Clark grimaces against his cup, shoulders tense. It’s very clear that it’s not a good place to have this type of conversation. Especially since he doesn’t want any of his other coworkers to know.
“Okay, come on.”
You take his hand and go to the stairwell. He doesn’t protest, only following you to the top of the building. High on the roof, cups from the party still in hand. The cool breeze blows along your bodies. It’s hard to see the stars due to all the florescent lighting, but you bet they’re pretty tonight.
Your arms go wide at the sudden wide space, “Alright, now talk.”
He rubs the nape of his neck. “Gosh, don’t put me on the spot…”
“You did it to yourself when you told Jimmy Olsen of all people that you’re a virgin.”
Clark folds his arms, eyes searching yours to come up what to say. You wonder if you were harsh with him, since you know not to judge people if they had sex or not, no matter what age. You weren’t, but considering you’re someone who hasn’t had sex with your boyfriend yet, it’s a good time to press the topic.
“I wasn’t embarrassed, but you might think what’s wrong with me if I told you that I’m a virgin.”
You pout, rubbing his shoulder. “What? Baby, why would I think something is wrong with you?”
“Because you already know I’m an alien. An alien who’s never had sex at the age that I am. It adds to my weirdness.”
“Actually, it makes you more real.” Your eyes lock on to his when you shift to open his arms. They immediately wrap around you. “You haven’t had sex before, so what? That means when you do, your experience will be great. You might even remember it for the rest of your life. Who knows? But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you because you’re still a virgin.”
Clark hugs you tight, lips pressed along your forehead. “You’re great.”
“Thank you, lovely.”
He gives you a chaste kiss, cradling your face in his hands. “What would I do without you?”
“I’d rather not find out.”
You giggle at another kiss, him deciding to pepper your face with them.
“Now, I’ll have to listen to Jimmy remind me that I haven’t had sex for at least a month.”
“Well…” You curl up your lip in thought. Jimmy was hardly the type of person to let things go. You didn’t want your man to go through hell all because he mentioned his virgin status. “We could have sex.”
Clark freezes, clearly not expecting you to say that. “What?”
You snort, “What, you don’t wanna have sex with me?”
“No, I do! I’ve been thinking about it for a while-” Immediately, he shuts his mouth, burying his face in the cup. You hold in a laugh at how cute he looked at the sudden confession. “I thought you can’t plan sex.”
“Sex happens naturally, but since this is your first time, I want you to be comfortable.” Your hand rests gently on his chest like you’re trying to steel his heartbeat. “If you like, I can be your first.”
Clark gives a lopsided smile, his persona showing through in this moment. “I’d like that. If you'll have me.”
“Of course.”
You weren’t a virgin, but you haven't had sex with a lot of guys either. The last time you did, it was a one night stand a few weeks before you moved to Metropolis. So anyone would be better than that guy.
You pull out your phone. “What day do you prefer? Any day, we can make it work.”
“What about during our next movie night?”
You don’t pick up on how fast he recommended that. “That’s next Friday. Sounds good.”
There’s a few things you need to do before Friday arrives.
The idea of having sex with your boyfriend is in question, so you needed to prepare. You were always okay with taking it slow with Clark. The current pace of your relationship was steady with the endless dates, the way he walks you home and kisses you goodnight after work, or how he even makes time to see you after he just spent the day as Superman.
He was genuinely a sweet guy.
Even though make-outs tended to get longer and heavier. Each touch after these few months burned with this lingering desire. You didn’t want to press further more than you have been so far. You wanted him to make the move.
But you won’t lie that after he confessed his thought of wanting to have sex with you, it lit a fire inside.
You really wanted to make the day special for him.
Having sex with someone for the first time was always a big deal. Whether you’ve been dating for a few months or not. Since this will be his first time since…ever, you didn’t want to mess that up. Clark has always been attentive and caring to your needs, it’s time to do the same with him.
You needed to have everything down to the minute details. The movie, dinner, snacks, what type of sheets was going to be on your bed. You can’t have a scary movie or else the atmosphere would be tense. A romantic one might rush the primetime too early. It had to be something in the middle.
“I’d like whatever you pick.”
You roll your eyes on the phone. The fast wind in your ear is something you’re used to since finding out about his Superman alter ego. “That’s not what I asked you. I can’t decide on a good movie we should watch.”
“I thought we were watching that movie with the guy wielding a chainsaw-You okay ma’am?”
“Y-Yes! Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
If only he could see you cheesing on the other line. “That movie is scary. Not the vibe I want to set for that night.”
“What is the vibe exactly?”
Romantic. Hot. Sexy. Anything to set the mood, but not too fast. Clark only settles when you tell him you want to slow it down, not turn the night into a frightening one.
“Okay…Would a romantic-comedy work? I think I could use a light-hearted chuckle.”
That would be a good idea. And you think you got the perfect rom-com.
For dinner, it was your turn anyway to pick. So you decided on sushi. You had a large platter from your favorite grocery store ready and pre-ordered for Friday. Clark was bringing the snacks, so you didn’t have to worry about that.
You plan to wash your sheets the night before. While your boyfriend has seen your various bed fitting, you had Scooby Doo one time he came over, you wanted something more…mature. So your simple blue and cream colored one that you bought when you first moved into your apartment would work.
Yeah, everything was coming together.
As each day passed, getting closer and closer to the date there was a mix of excitement and nervousness. Excitement due to the fact you’ll finally be having sex with your boyfriend. Nervousness because you wonder if you’ve done enough. You didn’t want to make a huge deal of the day Clark would lose his virginity. Like he was about to get major surgery done. He already felt a certain way when discussing the topic with you.
You just hope after all of this, he doesn’t get disappointed. Not when he’s on top of you, shirt off, his hard, kryptonian body against your soft breasts. His kisses being gentle, like he didn’t want to hurt you. Those thick hands of his gripping the fat of your thigh to hold in some control...
Okay, maybe you were more excited than nervous.
Clark didn’t help matters. He started asking personal questions leading the date up to you two having sex for the first time.
“Will you be okay with extra large condoms?”
You choke on your coffee, not expecting that from his mouth. He’s managed to get some brief alone time with you in the break room at work and he asks this. You wave him away to get him to stop patting your back.
“Um, XL condoms, huh? That’s…” You clear your throat, “I’m-I’m okay with that.”
“Great. I bought a few packs and tried them on. XL was the winner.”
He’s smiling and your eyes dart down to his crotch before meeting his face. “So, you’re…that big, huh?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that a good thing?”
You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, “Yeah, yeah it is.”
You just didn’t expect him to say that to your face. Now, you’re trying not to glance down there again. Or push him into a broom closet and see for yourself.
God, you were not this horny before.
“I’m assuming you’re well prepared for this then.”
“Almost.” He states, tapping the counter in thought. “I have to buy some lube. Unless, you have plenty.”
“I was planning to buy some, yeah. But you can always get some too. You like what you like. This is your day.”
A light ignites in Clark’s eyes. “Oh, right.”
You want to pry, but a part of you has a feeling that it might take you and Clark to a place you can’t risk at your job. You were already tempted into pulling his dick out of his pants, just to see how big he really is. Maybe suck on the tip a little and get a taste.
You quickly drink some more coffee, ignoring the burn on your tongue.
“Anything else you wanted to bring up?”
Clark shakes his head, “No, I’m good. I cannot wait for Friday.”
“Me too.”
He nudges your fingers for a moment as a form of goodbye. Then he’s gone from the break room.
You were so close to telling Clark to stay away from you.
For each day that passed, your fantasies got more and more explicit. You’re thinking about his head between your thighs, figuring out how to eat you with each nervous lick. Then he gets better, able to make you cum.
Or when he’s finally inside you. That big, thick shaft of his slowly pushing in, hitting every bump that makes you twitch. He’d be better than any toy you’ve had and you only have one.
At this rate, you were tempted to forget the day and come over his place to fuck.
Thank god his Superman duties kept him away from you a bit longer. You were elated, even though he wasn’t too happy about it. It gave you some time to get yourself together.
When Friday came, you requested to leave early. You had a few last minute errands to run before the night arrived.
Clark didn’t know about you leaving early. You wanted to tell him so bad after each glance, each small talk by the water cooler or a brief talk by the copier. But you wanted to get your affairs in order.
“Are you okay?” He asks while he walks you to the elevator.
“Yeah. Just needed to go home early. I gotta get the sushi and…other things.”
“Other things? Like what?”
You narrow your eyes at him, “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
That doesn’t satisfy him when he rides the elevator to the first floor with you. “Did you want to call tonight off? I’d understand if you didn’t want to do this anymore.”
“I do want to do this. Do you want to do this? We can always pick another day.”
“I do.” He overshadows you, pressing your back against the wall. You’re grateful that no one has decided to take this elevator. The drop in your stomach covering up your true feelings of wanting him to take that extra step.
He’s so close.
Your face burns when he curls his finger under your chin, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, causing yourself to shiver. “Maybe I should go home early too. And we can start early.”
“You’d like that, huh? You want to be in me that bad?”
“Yes…” Clark leans forward, mouth parting as if he’s about to kiss you. He stops short above your lips to drink you in, breaths entangling with one another, fueling the furnace in your hearts.
You can’t help but fan the fire. It’s awfully tempting to have Clark call out the rest of the day so you two can have sex. But those things you wanted to do were not going to get done, unintentionally ruining everything you made plans for.
“Clark…” You take a deep breath and steel yourself back to reality, “Didn’t you tell me last night that you needed to finish that column or else-”
“Perry will have my behind, yeah.” He grimaces, pulling apart once the elevator stops on the ground floor.
“It’s just for a few hours.” You kiss his cheek right before the elevator opens, “It’ll go by before you know it.”
“Sure.”
He sadly waves you goodbye, making sure you left okay.
The sushi is picked up, settling comfortable in the fridge. You were a little ticked that the store supplied more spicy tuna than what you asked. Clark wasn’t a fan of the spice, despite you saying it’s hardly spicy at all.
You needed to shower. That thing you wanted to do was self-maintenence. You thought about getting waxed, but it was too late as you heard you needed to wait 24 hours after getting it done to have sex. Clark needed to get used to how much hair you had down there anyway. If he didn’t like it, then he wasn’t a keeper. Although it’s hard seeing him not liking hair on you at all, but men surprise you.
You just did a simple trim, making your sex neat and tidy.
Now, you had to figure out what to wear.
To be honest, you didn’t have a lot of sexy clothes. No lingerie to spice up the relationship. That should change, but in the meantime, Clark would have to see you in Superman pjs that you bought for $11. You thought these were a steal. And this was before you started dating Clark.
You thought it would be a funny joke to let him see you in the pajamas. They weren’t bad looking either with a blue tank with his symbol across your chest and matching shorts. If anything, you were going to have a nice laugh about it.
The doorbell rings right when you pull out the bowls for the snacks. You glance at the time on your phone. Clark wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour. It’s probably your neighbor asking for some more sugar again.
As you throw on a blanket, you rush to the door, peeking out though the peephole and feeling your stomach drop.
Shit, Clark’s here early.
He’s waiting patiently at the door, a few bags of snacks in his hands while he fixes his glasses. His hair is disheveled and his shirt isn’t buttoned up all the way.
You weren’t expecting this at all, but you can bounce back. Almost everything was finished anyway.
“You’re early.”
“I finished the column earlier than expected.” He grins, walking inside. “And I didn’t have anything else to do so…”
Clark gapes when you toss the blanket to the side, revealing your pjs. You’re waiting for the laugh, a slight chuckle at the big ass symbol on your chest. He only stares.
“Funny, right?” You snort, stretching out your tank a bit. “I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”
“Oh, uh, yeah yeah it’s…” He shakes his head, forcing a laugh, “nice. I just didn’t expect that. Or it to be uh…”
“Gimmicky?”
“Tight.”
“Oh.” You follow his eyes looking at your nipples hardening along your shirt. Blood quickly rushes to your face at the realization. “You should take a shower. It’s been a day.”
“Right, yeah I should…” You take the snacks from him, pointing to your bedroom as if he hadn’t used your bathroom before.
You use his time in the shower as a chance to finish setting everything up. The chips were in one bowl, the popcorn in the other. You set down a plate of the California rolls Clark likes. The movie was set up and ready to be played.
All while trying not to think about how those hungry blue eyes stared at you, getting dark. Like he wanted to see more. Your face hasn’t stopped feeling hot since it happened, but you were determined to take your time and take things slow. It was all about build up.
You didn’t know Clark got out of the shower when a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard chest. Cucumber and mint fills your nose, inviting you to take another whiff and relax.
“Since when did you get Superman pajamas?”
“Since before we started dating. Relax, this wasn’t planned.”
“I wouldn’t be mad if it was.” You giggle when he sniffs along your head, the scent of rose and honey along his nostrils. That huge hand of his lands on your stomach, giving you butterflies. “You smell good.”
“Thanks.”
Clark presses along your bottom, giving you a gentle kiss to your neck. He takes the leap by groping your breast. It was a small squeeze, but enough to make you take in a breath. He doesn’t do more, almost like he’s testing the waters. To see if you’re still up for it. You don’t know how else you can spell it out for him by wearing this with no bra on.
You’re tempted to let him continue doing whatever he’s doing. These gentle caresses, his lips dragging along your neck. But his stomach growls.
“Oooh, someone’s hungry.”
He groans, “This is what I get for going halfway across the city for snacks.” He kisses your cheek before getting sushi.
You sit next to him on the couch with a plate in your hand. The horniness has subsided when you start the movie, letting the feelings calm down a bit. Enough to enjoy your food and relax.
The movie was about a man and a woman who spend the day together after their exes broke up with them. The entire premise was fun and the movie was cute and hilarious. You cuddle with Clark after munching on sushi and chips. His arm around you.
While watching, you were waiting for Clark to make a move. You kept glancing at him every five minutes, only to see him be immersed in the movie. You were too after a certain point, realizing that Clark might not have caught on to the “chill” part of watching a movie. Which is fine. The night wasn’t over.
As the movie ended, you stretch, getting up to clean up the mess you two made.
“That was good!”
“Yeah, it was.”
Immediately, he’s by your side to help.
That superhero speed came out in full force today because you swore you blinked and the sushi was in the fridge, the leftover chips and popcorn was sealed away, and the table was cleaned off. You were over here still washing the same cup you had earlier.
Clark chuckles at your shocked face, “Why do you look like that?”
“You know why.”
After doing a quick rinse of the dishes, you didn’t have a chance to put away the towel before a certain someone was nearby.
Clark captures your lips in a sweet kiss, hands on your hips to pull you in closer. He lets out a needy groan, doing the most to make sure you don’t part from him. The kisses from your lips moved on to your face and then your neck. He’s nudging into your skin, as if he wants to be inside. You’re desperate to hold on to him, to maintain some composure before he ends up taking you in the kitchen.
“Clark…” He hums against your neck, pushing you up against the sink. “We should…take this to my room…”
“Right…”
He agrees and yet he’s giving one, two, no three more kisses to your lips. You had to use all of your might to push away, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.
“I thought you didn’t want to do this anymore.” You say with a laugh, “You were so focused on the movie and…”
Clark closes the door behind him, “Why would I change my mind?”
“People typically start setting the mood during the movie.”
“Oh.” His eyes rake you up and down, lips curling upwards. “We haven’t seen the movie before. I didn’t want to distract you.” You can’t stop yourself from smiling when he struts over, holding your sides. He makes you giggle with each kiss to your cheeks before locking eyes with you. “Is there any rules I should know?”
“We can always stop if it gets too much. Red light to stop, yellow light if you want to slow down, and green to keep going.”
He nods. “Same goes for you too.”
“Okay.”
His nose brushes along yours. He doesn’t kiss you just yet, but takes you in. He gropes your bottom, making you hum before sliding up along your torso. You didn’t know you were holding your breath when he stops right under your breasts, grazing the underside.
“You look sexy with this on…”
You hum when he pulls up your shirt a little, exposing your bellybutton. “Thanks…”
With your shirt raised, his knuckles graze along your skin. You sigh at how hot his touch is, breathing stuttering with each contact. Just then he goes back to kissing you. His knuckles inching further and further towards your chest. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as it blocks out the sound of desperation from each kiss.
A shudder rushes along you when his knuckle grazes the underside of your breast. He doesn’t push further when his tongue parts your lips, drawing a collective moan from you. He’s gotten better with French kissing. The last time you two made out he’s managed to make you catch your breath, feeling dizzy.
It’s even worse because he’s still grazing under your boob, not going higher like you want him to. You’re pushing against him, begging him to touch you there. He doesn’t, determined to drive you mad as much as he can.
“Damn, just…” You whine under his lips, “touch me. Please.”
“I’m trying to be a gentleman...”
“You were staring at my boobs earlier. That’s gone out the window.”
Clark sighs, going under your shirt to cup your breast. You whimper as if you haven’t been touched in eons. And his hand feels you just right that your knees wobble. He quickly picks you up like you’re going to fall at any minute and places you on the bed.
Your hands go under his shirt, lifting it up to see his muscled torso.
“Green? Yellow? Or red?”
“Green. We’re so green.”
You snicker before he captures your lips again. It’s a light make out as he’s between your legs, stealing each breath from you. Those large hands of his goes under your shirt, groping your breast, trying to get a feel of what you like and don’t like. Luckily, you’re vocal so you moan with every squeeze and pinch to your nipple.
He even tries dragging his fingertips against them, causing a shiver to trail down your spine. Your thighs to press along his hips. Clark’s smile just makes you want to pinch his own nipple for teasing you.
You pull away to pull off his shirt. He helps after you struggle getting it off his big head. You grab the hem of yours and pull up. Clark freezes.
It was like when he saw you in those pajamas earlier. He’s staring at your breasts again, but this time he can see them. Every miniscule bump, the shape of your areolas, your nipples. As if he’s never seen boobs before. Oh wait, maybe he hasn’t. You hope you made a good impression.
“Wow…you’re…wow.” His hand inches forward but then pulls back. “You’re so beautiful.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks again and you glance away, “Thank you…”
You lay back and invite him to touch. He acts like he’s never touched your breasts before after he was feeling them up under your shirt. Seeing them for the first time is probably putting some unexpected thoughts in his head. You don’t make fun of him before but let him take the wheel.
His arms are either side of you when he leans down and presses his face along your chest. That is not what you were expecting.
“You’re warm…” He mutters, lips dragging along the curve of your breast. You whimper at his gentle nuzzles, your arms covered in tiny bumps due to the sensation. He kisses the top of your breast, then your areola, then your nipple. It starts out as small, light kisses to each of your breasts. As if he’s trying to work himself up for doing more.
Then came a lick.
A light flick to your nipple, not doing much besides making your eyes shut. Clark proceeds to do it again and again and again. Each lick sending down pulses to your core. You’re taking deep breaths to calm down, which turn into sighs. It isn’t until he latches on to your breast that you croon.
“Clark…” You say, swallowing. “That feels nice…”
He hums, using his hand to feel your other nipple. His fingernail circles around it as he sucks on your tit. He’s caught on to what makes you feel good so now he’s doing his best to make you twist and turn. Your hands dig into your comforter and you’re wiggling under his hold. Moans are coming out frequently as he feels you up like this.
Clark doesn’t stop when he switches to your other breast, doing the same techniques to make you shift. He doesn’t let you move more than necessary as he’s holding you down against the bed. The hold is light but you know he’s using that superhuman strength as light as he can.
Some virgin he is. You don’t know he’s making you feel so good.
When he lets go with a wet pop, you’re ready for a kiss. But he goes lower, kissing your stomach, your bellybutton, before stopping at your shorts.
You’re trying to catch your breath. “Uh green, y-yellow-”
“Green.”
He’s pulling down your shorts, catching your underwear in the midst. The cool air hits your sex and you want to hide at how embarrassingly wet you are.
“Hold on. Clark…”
He perks up, getting out of his desire heavy face to look at you. “Oh no, was I going too fast?”
“No, no, you’re…” You clutch your chest, trying to focus. “you’re fine. You need to take off your clothes though. It’s only fair.”
Clark looks down at himself and both of you can clearly see the tent in his pants. And the main reason why he said XL condoms. His pants weren’t off yet and you know he’s huge. “Right.”
Now it was your turn to stare.
When he removes his pj bottoms and boxers, your mouth gapes. He is huge down there. All white around the shaft which curls slightly upward. The pink tip already leaking cum. Your first thought was not if it will fit, but if you can fit it in your mouth.
He bashfully looks away as you stare, “Is this good?”
“Yeah. Come here.” Clark barely got to the edge of your bed before you’re there, anxious to touch. “May I?”
“You may.”
A hiss escapes his lips when you touch him. Your hands wrap around the base, gliding up and down his length. He places a firm hand on your shoulder, eyes fluttering like he’s unsure whether to look at you or close them.
You’re sure Clark has touched himself. He’s implied that when you all were getting ready for this night. You just didn’t want him to explode right then and there. Sure, he’s an alien, but you don’t think he’s going to get it back up right away if you make him climax. You had to be careful.
“Oh your hands…” It’s his turn to take in a breath, shivering a little. “They’re soft…”
“Better than yours, huh?” He nods and you grin. You keep a gentle pace while stroking him. Going from his pubic hair to his tip, using some of his pre to help you. Clark is doing his best to keep it in, only letting out low groans of pleasure.
Maybe he’s ready for a lick.
“W-Wait-” You stop, but his hand moves to your head, keeping you in a position of where he didn’t want you to stop.
Wow, he’s so pretty. His eyes downcast, that broad chest heaves. It’s not hard to get entranced at how eye-catching your boyfriend is, even after you licked his leaky tip.
“Green, yellow, or red?”
“Green…green…” He takes a deep breath, “I wasn’t expecting that…”
“I can keep stroking you if you want.”
“No…I’m fine.”
You take his word for it, going back to doing kitten licks on his cock. You lick up his cum at the tip before moving down and licking up his length. Clark’s noises of pleasure get a little louder. He still has your head stable against his hand. And your shoulder was burning a little due to his grip. But he doesn’t tell you to stop.
So you slowly take him in your mouth.
Clark chokes, that grip now fixed on you. “Oh…geez…”
Your thighs squeeze at the delicious look he’s giving you. He’s decided to watch you suck him off. And you’re good at it too because you move down all the way to where your nose brushes along his hairs, staying there so he can get used to it. More like try not to blow in your mouth. If you were evil, you would make him cum like this.
“Haah, oh my…” He has a death grip on you as you pull back slowly, lips pursed around his shaft. It hurts a little, but the sight of seeing him struggle not to come undone is worth it.
So you do it again. His cock hitting the back of your throat with ease. Clark is more vocal now, not caring about your neighbors when his beautiful girlfriend is sucking the life out of him. He tried his best to look at you while you suck him off, only to fail and put his head back in pleasure.
“Gosh you feel so good. Don’t stop…”
You’ll indulge in him a little longer. You pick up the pace, drooling all over his dick. Those sucking sounds coming from you was obscene. And Clark was enjoying it all like he was watching a porno. He’s enraptured with your warm mouth, how your tongue grazes his tip when you pull back to how deep you’re taking him in.
You know he’s close to coming undone. That slight thrust he gives show you all that you need to know. It makes you gag, causing you to pull apart completely.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“You’re okay, baby.” You wipe the drool away with your thumb, “I know you enjoyed it.”
“I did…” You’re inviting him to come bacn on top on the bed. He follows but stops for a moment. “I want to touch you.”
You nod, spreading your legs and inviting him to come closer. Clark is looking at your cunt with fascination, but also with nerves as if he doesn’t know where to start.
“You’re pretty. I like what you've done with your hair.”
You bite your lip to hold back another laugh.
“Thanks. I did it just for you.” You take his hand, leading a finger into your hole. You bite your lip as you didn’t know how wet you were, not having the time to get embarrassed about it. He gathers some of your slick with his fingers and glides it to your clit. “Do light, circular motions first.”
“Okay.”
He watches you do it first, your lashes fluttering at each touch. When he takes over and follows your lead, you lick your lips.
Clark’s brows furrow in concentration. He’s focusing on the technique and listening to you to see what you like. It’s a trial and error. Some touches don’t make your toes curl while others make you whine. He follows your advice of taking more of your slick, plunging a finger in you and make you gasp.
“Did that hurt?”
“No…that felt good…” You shudder when he does it again, shifting a little to take some of your slick and rub your clit with his thumb. His fingers was always thick as hell in your eyes, so just one of his fingers makes you dig into your comforter.
“Yeah, right there…”
You moan when he thrusts into your hole while rubbing your clit at the same time. He’s getting better because every touch, every plunge makes you louder. You’re closing your legs but he pushes them open and wider. You don’t expect a second finger to introduce itself, making your head fall back into the pillow.
“Mmh, Clark…mmh…” You’re not looking at him, just taking his fingers like this. He keeps your legs spread wide, making you submit to his touches. Each rub, that slick sound of his fingers inside you, makes your stomach pool. “Shit, you’re gonna…”
He’s not saying a word, but he gets the gist. He doesn’t let up on his touches. Your body twists, back arches when you can’t hold it in anymore.
You grab his wrist as if you want him to stop, but he doesn’t. No traffic light color forms on the tip of your tongue either. Your breath hitches and suddenly a wave crashes over you. You cry out for him, his name coming out like a plea. You’re shaking under him as you soak his fingers, them taking as much of your orgasm as they can.
When he stops, you’re able to breathe. You lock eyes with Clark and see his pupils are blown. His fingers are soaked but he licks them clean. It’s so hot.
Suddenly, he’s on top of you again. Kissing you, feeling you up desperately. Each touch of his is like fire and nothing can quench it. You taste yourself on your lips, your moans mix with his groans. He has you locked against the bed and positions himself between your thighs.
As much as you want him in you raw, you have a moment of clarity.
“Condom. Condom, baby.”
“Right.” He unnecessarily uses that super speed to grab the condom from his overnight bag before tearing it open. Clark easily slides it on his shaft before taking his rightful position.
“G-Green, yellow or…red?”
“You already know the color.”
When he pushes himself in, you hold on to him tight. His size was no joke. He stuffs you up completely. Every inch he takes, both of you are trying to regain some control. Clark especially is heaving, trying to get himself together. He whines during each push and is on his elbows to get comfortable.
“Oh my god, you feel…oh…oh…” Clark's heavy breathing fans your neck. You get the feeling that he’s not going to last that long. It was okay, you were expecting it for his first time. “I don’t think I can…damn…”
“You’re alright. It’s okay.” You rub his back.
He sits up to look at you, eyes filled with warmth. “Thank you.”
Before you can respond, his hips pull back then thrusts forward. The air gets knocked from your lungs as Clark gives you slow, yet powerful thrusts. They have no rhythm, so you know he’s chasing his own high at this point.
The bed creaks every time he lets out a breathy gasp. His knuckles turn white as he’s damn near close to tearing your sheets. All you can do is just hold on and take his girthy length.
“You feel so good…mmh…I’m practically…sliding in and out of you…”
Clark grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. He leans over, a solid hand presses against your back as he thrusts in faster, deeper. He’s somehow found your g-spot accidentally. And he’s hitting it to the point where you can see stars.
You’re sobbing. Tears form at your eyes at how good he’s fucking you. You have no idea where he got this position from and you definitely need to ask him once you’re coherent.
“Shit Clark…you’re…fuck me…”
He doesn’t stop, practically ramming into you with a speed that’s all too familiar. It’s making you lose your vision and that unexpected knot forms in your stomach again. You didn’t realize how close it is to bursting until it snaps.
You climax again, molding around his length. It catches Clark off guard because not a moment after he’s cumming. Hard. His mouth gapes and he’s buried against your neck, cum spilling into the condom. He grips your thighs, holding you close until he can’t anymore.
You’re running your hands into his hair, taking it all.
Then everything goes quiet.
He’s lazily kissing your neck, before moving to your jaw, then your cheeks, then your lips. A soft, relaxing kiss that makes you relax in his arms. Clark nips at your bottom lip before gazing at you.
His hair a mess, lips a little swollen from those kisses. Red decorates his face and his blue eyes go back to being soft, although they're changed. As if he’s a different man.
“Consider your cherry, popped.”
“Oh no, don’t say that.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “There’s got to be another phrase for that.”
“It’s better than ‘congrats, you’re not a virgin anymore.’” Clark shakes his head while pulling out. You were not expecting his face to drop at the white substance escaping the condom. “What’s wrong?”
“The condom broke.”
You sat up, your own eyes getting wide when he holds it up. No wonder you felt extra wet down there.
“Oh no.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
You get up, but fall due to your weak legs. Clark quickly helps you up and takes you to the bathroom. You’re digging into your medicine cabinet, trying to find the emergency contraceptive. There’s a swell of hope when you finally find the morning after pill, only for it to expire.
Fuck.
“I can get more.” Clark goes over to his clothes and quickly puts them on.
“No, I’m pretty sure all of the stores are closed by now.”
“Hey, did you forget you’re dating Superman?”
You blink, “Oh right.”
He’s already got his clothes on and is ready to go out the room. Before he does though, he quickly gives your naked body a tight hug and your face another kiss.
“Thank you for this.”
“Clark, do not thank me for having sex with you. It was going to happen at some point.” You shake your head, but giggle when he kisses you again.
“I know. But I don’t want to forget my manners-”
“Oh my god.” You give him a big wet kiss, “Just go!”
He doesn't leave just yet. He puts you back in the bed, pulling the covers over you like he's tucking you in. “I didn’t forget about the aftercare.”
“I know you didn't.”
“I’ll be back before you can say popcorn.”
Then he’s gone. You laugh at his haste, knowing he was going to be gone a tad bit longer than that.
Next time, you’re going to have to make sure he takes it easy during sex. Or hope he’s bought a bunch of plan b to counteract the condom breaks.
Content: Miguel is fighting demons. Said demons are baby fever. His patience is getting tested the entire time. Brief violence (Miguel gets into a fight). Pregnancy mention. Oral sex. Vaginal sex. P in V. A little bit of cum eating.
A/N: I saw this prompt and immediately thought Miguel would be perfect for it. Hope you all enjoy!
⭑🍂⋆ Next
Breedvember 'M.List
The dream always starts with the scent of powder.
That light, airy smell hugs Miguel's senses when he steps inside the nursery. It invites him in to the baby blue color on the walls, the white crib next to it complimenting the space. The melodic sounds from the mobile, tasked with making sure the baby has sweet dreams.
You’re watching the dancing stars with a serene look, picturing your child happy in the room made for them with a hand on your growing belly. Miguel comes from behind with a chaste kiss on your neck, his hands on top of yours, to feel the stirring child inside.
His chest swells with happiness. He gets to have you and a healthy baby on the way, to spend a lifetime together. What could ruin this moment?
He wakes up.
Miguel groans at the alarm clock blaring in his ears. Lyla's hologram dances above it, telling him to wake up and start the day.
“Shock me. You couldn’t let me sleep for five more minutes?”
Lyla stops the alarm, reclining in her chair with a cup of coffee, “I did that last time and you got mad at me.” Miguel slams his head against the pillow, using another to cover his face. “Hey, big guy, work isn’t gonna do itself.”
“It will if I jump off a building.”
She sucks her teeth, “Too bad you have superpowers.”
Miguel turns over, pillow over his ears. He just needs a few more minutes to get up. “Give me ten.”
“Fine. Ten more minutes.” He can’t see it, but he knows Lyla is hovering over him, mug still in her hand. “And I’m counting.”
He waits until he’s sure his assistant is gone before sighing. Immediately, his hand goes lower to his erect shaft.
Miguel takes in a breath when he grips the base. He recollects what happened in his dream. The nursery, the baby toys, you and your swollen belly. He strokes himself, pumping his cock with the pre from his leaky tip.
He imagines the entire baby making process. How he has you trapped under his hard body, messy thrusts paired with messy kisses. You’re moaning about how you can’t wait to have his baby. Your slick sex, legs around his waist to lock him in so he has no choice to fill you up.
Miguel heaves, biting his lip to the point where it hurts. The metallic taste of his blood spurs him on while his hand keeps that same pace. It adds to illusion when he thinks he’s knocked you up three times already. This fourth time is to absolutely make sure you carry his child. Why else does he wait until you’re on the brink of exhaustion, fighting with his super stamina to keep up. So he can put a baby in you as many times as he likes.
His talons prod out just a bit, scraping along the silky sheets. His eyes rolled back, his back in an arch, toes curled when he spills his seed with a strangled moan. It takes a moment for him to gather himself, body coated with sweat.
He wanted to stop having these dreams.
The ones where you’re carrying his baby. Miguel can’t explain what it was like seeing you with a child. His child. It ignites an unknown emotion in him. He wasn’t sure if it was pride, love, or a secret third thing. All he knew was that he can’t stop imagining you pregnant and it gets him going. It really does.
The problem is you’ve only been dating for six months.
He’s pined over you for a year and was ecstatic when you accepted his feelings. It seemed like something from a cheesy romance book. You, a normal person, was into Miguel O’Hara, who is also Spider-Man. And you didn’t care. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. He wanted to be with you.
Now, how was he going to tell you that he’s imagining you with his baby? That was easy. He wasn’t.
Miguel thought it was embarrassing enough that he was turned on by the thought of you carrying his child. Telling that to you was taking the embarrassment to a whole nother level. Plus, it was too soon. You just started leaving your clothes at his place. A baby was something you don’t talk about until marriage.
Yes, he does want to marry you, but that’s besides the point. This would be something he had to deal on his own.
HQ was practically baby proof. A lot of the teens he had to watch should've been suitable enough to push aside the baby thing. Yet stopping by the Go Home Machine, one of them made him reconsider.
“Did you see that video I sent you?” Margo says through one of her copies. The other working diligently with system checking the machine.
Miguel takes a sip of his coffee while opening his watch, “Yeah, the dancing dog one?”
“No, the one with giggling baby.”
His eyes widens, but he maintains his composure. “Uh, no I don't think I saw that.”
“Uh, you should watch it.”
“Now? We're at work.”
“I sent you a video of a cat eating bread and you watched it right away while I was taking an anomaly home.” She folds her arms, “Hypocrite.”
Miguel scowls, “Watch it.”
“Then watch it! Please?”
Those virtual puppy dog eyes always gets him. It's why he grumbles before quickly pulling up the video.
A baby with a huge, toothless smile giggles directly in the camera. The mom is playing peek-a-boo with them, just to get the child's pure reaction. Not having a care in the entire world.
“See? Isn’t that cute?”
It was and now he's picturing you with the baby, making it laugh with joy, giving them the attention they deserve. Miguel knew he shouldn't have watched this.
“Yeah, very cute.” Miguel closes the video, “We should get back to work.”
“Boo!” Margo sticks out her tongue, “Just for that, I'm sending you more baby videos.”
“I'd rather you didn’t.”
“I will.”
Baby video aside, that was just one slip up. A dot in a field of stars. That didn’t mean he should be serious about this baby thing. Margo typically gets distracted with other things during her time in HQ. He’s sure she’s going to let the baby videos go.
And yet, she was true to her word. Every video Margo has sent him the past hour was full of babies. Them laughing, some staring at strangers with their wide eyes whenever they past by, playing with their toys. Others were missing food from their mouths or playing with pets in the house. If Margo saw a baby in it, she’d send it to him.
Damn, they were cute.
He can see you sending a picture of your baby capturing the attention of strangers in the grocery store one day, flooding you and the baby compliments of how adorable they are. Miguel would have that video saved in his watch immediately so he can look at it during downtime.
No! No, he said he wasn’t going to succumb to babies.
Curse Margo. He knows she’s not gonna like it, but he can’t look at baby videos anymore. It’s fine if she tells him off later.
Miguel needs to clear his head. A quick snack in the cafeteria would be good. He’ll eat anything that doesn’t remind him of a baby.
While walking past, with the usual pep in his step, he kept thinking about food. Any type of food. No babies. No babies. No. Babies.
It would’ve worked until a cry of babies resonated in a part of HQ.
Miguel followed the source to a room that had a sign of “Spider Daycare” on the front. Inside he saw Peter, Jess, and a few other spiders corralling babies into their designated areas. They were all small, crawling around, giggling at any and everything. Some already unlocked their spider abilities so they’re on the walls, swinging around and dodging the adults.
The entire room screamed it was for children. Baby toys, a play area designated for them in the back. A nap area for whenever they get tired. Bright colors all around, but not so bright to where the area was overstimulating.
What…did he do?
“Miguel!” Peter called over, holding up one child as three more babies crawl up his body. “Do you see this? And you said Spider Daycare wasn’t gonna be a success. Well how do ya like them apples?”
Miguel wasn’t sure if he wanted to take the rest of the day off or submit to his baby fever. He decided on neither.
“I thought Spider Daycare was pushed back a few more weeks.”
“Yeah, that’s what happened but then Jess here-” Peter motions to her chasing after a baby, “She found more volunteers. Even Spider Mascot, can you believe it?” He did, when he saw the fuzzy spider suit have a bunch of kids stuck to them.
Miguel had no problem with Spider Daycare. He thought it was a good idea, especially for fellow spiders who had children and couldn’t watch them 24/7. But why, why did it have to be right now? Right when he can’t stop thinking about filling you up, so you can have his baby?
“This is a permanent thing, huh?”
“As long as we have babies.” Jess cuts in, carrying a young girl on her hip. Not hers, but she latched on to Spider-Woman as if she was her mom. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “Guess who’s also here?”
Before he could ask, you immediately come around the corner, chasing a kid. You scoop the boy up in your arms, tickling him until he pleaded for mercy. Miguel’s knees buckled. It’s almost as if his dream came to life. The boy had similar features to him too. It’s like he could be your child.
He needed to leave.
“I don’t want to disturb you-”
“Miggy!” You wave at him, carrying the child across the room. “You like the new daycare?”
Miguel didn’t have a chance to say anything when the child latches on to his face, making the entire group laugh. He tries to pry the boy off. “Y-Yeah I like it.”
“I’m glad you do. This daycare is really important for everyone. I want to volunteer here when I can to help out.”
“And this is why you’re my favorite.” Jess comments.
The idea of you at the Spider Daycare, helping out with the kids, being like a mom to them, it’s stirring in his stomach.
Yeah, he needed to get out of here. Do some work, something to get his mind off of you carrying his child. His hands twitch at the thought of pulling you into his lab, knocking you up right then and there.
You take the boy away from Miguel, laughing at his clinginess, “This one has been busy since he came in here. What can you expect from a baby who’s mom is a Black Cat.”
The boy chews on your thumb and it amuses you more. Miguel can see your kid doing the same thing, drooling all over your hands like it’s no problem.
“Kids can’t help it, right?”
You agree with him and he wants to say more. Like would your child be like that? If they’d be a handful just like the one in your arms?
A crime alert stops him, saving himself.
“Enjoy the babies.” Miguel says before deciding to go do his job.
The one where he hardly has to save babies. Lately, it’s been the typical bank robbery or police chase. Not one where he have to save a bunch of kids. Spider-Man can save babies, Miguel O’Hara just didn’t want to deal with nothing else baby related.
He should’ve stopped hoping.
In Nueva York, another dimension’s Doc Ock was terrorizing downtown. That was fine, Miguel can handle it. He was looking forward to beating down the villain and getting rid of some of these emotions he was keeping in.
Their fight was getting messy. The villain loved contributing to property damage, each swing of his arms involved objects. Chairs, glasses, people to deter Miguel. It was getting bad to the point where he may need to call for back up. Miguel decided against it. He could handle it on his on. He has to.
Then he ended up getting tossed into a hospital, right in the maternity ward.
Shock him.
This Doctor Octopus felt no remorse for the babies inside the hospital, or maybe he didn’t see them when he tossed a gas tank. Miguel didn’t need spider sense to see it blow up in his face. There was a handful of sleeping babies in the incubators and he needed to get them out.
Baby fever be damned right now. He wasn’t going to let those kids die.
Spider-Man swooped up each infant, using his webs to make a sling so he had room to carry them all. He resisted the urge to soothe each and every one that cried their heads off. To wipe their tears away and let them know that he saved them so they don’t need to worry.
When he got them to safety, giving them off to the police, he missed that new baby smell. Hints of it clung to him tight on his suit. Would your baby smell like that once they arrive? He’d want to bury himself in that smell while their hand curls around his thumb for the first time.
That Doc Ock was in for a rude awakening.
Miguel’s punches got harder, his kicks more arduous. He wasn’t going to let the villain slide for burning down an entire maternity ward. Innocent children almost losing their lives. He made sure the villain didn’t get up once Miguel took him back to the Go Home Machine. He threw them inside, telling Margo to make sure he gets sent away next.
His muscles ached. When Miguel sat down on his chair in the lab, he took a breath. The baby scent was still stuck to him. He can’t stop thinking about their cute faces, even when they were under distress.
He doesn’t know how long he can hold this in. Maybe he should tell you. You might look at him weird, call off the relationship because it’s strange to thinking about having kids with someone six months in. But he can’t keep this in anymore.
“I heard you saved an entire ward of babies today.” You say, going to check up on him on your break from Spider Daycare.
Miguel went face first on the console, “Seriously? You heard about that?”
“Yes? You have a problem with saving babies?” He sighs when you run your hand through his hair, brushing it away from his face.
“No, it’s this day.”
“Something happen?”
He grimaces, the confession on the tip of his tongue. But you’re looking at him with love and he didn’t know what to do if you decide to shut him out. “Nothing happened. I just noticed a lot of…kids today.”
“Did you know that some of the people you work with are kids?” He chuckles with you at that. He knows he’s being a little dramatic. This day was just a coincidence. “Maybe going to my friend’s baby shower will help with the oddness of today.”
Miguel sat up, surprising you. “What? Your friend’s having a baby shower?”
“Yeah, Keisha. She’s having it tomorrow.” You frown when Miguel gives a blank look, “You forgot didn’t you?”
“No! No, nena. I…was surprised it’s really tomorrow given what I had to deal with.”
You take his hands, looking into his eyes. “It’s supposed to be a casual day. You don’t have to worry about saving babies.”
That wasn’t what he was worried about, but he doesn’t contest and gives you a reassuring smile. That confession will have to wait another day. He didn’t want you to be bothered by a baby shower if you decide to end it off with him.
Miguel had to muster up all of his superhero willpower to get through a day that’s all about a baby. Someone else’s baby. Not his.
He does some mental exercises while standing at the front door of your friend’s home the next day. Instead of counting, his mind swarms with DNA combinations. AAGT, ACCA, AACC… It all goes out the window when your friend opens the door and he’s hit with everything baby.
There are baby decorations, your friend is having a boy so blue colored balloons are scattered along the ceiling. A large banner saying ‘Congrats, it’s a boy!’ is displayed across the living room. It’s a large turnout with people mingling while holding cups in the shape of a baby bottle. Gifts filled with items for the baby were stacked on a wide table.
Baby toys, baby balloons, baby games. It’s baby, baby, baby. Miguel wanted to put down the gift and leave. He’ll send an apology card to your friend once he’s cooled off. But then he got trapped. Your arm wrapped around his and he’s pulled into socializing.
People giving stories about their experiences with their kid. The dirty diapers, the long nights, the first word. All with a mix of emotions from exhaustion to pride. Miguel hasn’t taken care of a baby, the most being the stunt he pulled with another dimension’s Gabriella.
He wonders how it’ll be the first night you two bring your child home. All of those late nights, waking up at odd times to calm the baby. He’s typically a night owl so he knows it won’t be a problem for him. You’ll be able to get some rest too.
Bad idea to have that thought right now.
During the baby shower, the host has a photo op. Where anyone can take a picture with her wearing a fake belly. The joke is supposed to be playful, involving the person to pose with the actual pregnant person. The belly even looked silly to put on as some people struggled with it.
For you, it’s like something clicked in him.
He saw you in that fake belly, bumping bellies with your friend, laughing with her. All he saw was your future with him. How he was finally able to put a baby in you and proof that you’re having his child. No one else’s.
He can't take it anymore.
You were winding down from the night during the ride home. All about how you're excited for your friend, that she promised to send you the very first baby picture. You're gushing, eyes filled with excitement. Like you want to have a baby yourself.
Miguel grips the wheel tighter at the mere thought. He'd be ecstatic if you said you want to have a baby with him. That would make what he's about to do to you so much sweeter.
“You alright?” You ask when you're unlocking the door to your house. “You've hardly said a word since we left.”
“Yeah, I'm fine.”
Those “reassuring” words don't ease your concerns. When he closes the door behind him you're folding your arms, “You sure? I know parties aren't your scene. It was a lot going on too, to be honest. And I'm sure someone was heavy handed with that punch.”
“Mmhm.” Miguel steps closer, admiring your frame with each step. He wonders what you'll be like if you stare at him, pregnant, holding your belly and welcoming him home. He wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“Oh! The punch got to you too, huh?”
“I can't get drunk, baby.”
You roll your eyes at yourself, “Right, obviously.”
He gives a light squeeze to your bottom, kneading the flesh. You're giggling, not catching on just yet to his horny mood.
“What is going on with you?”
“Let's make a baby.”
Your mouth gapes while you blink incredulously, “Did you just say…? Wait a minute.” You’re not pulling away, you're just…shocked. “Don't tell me you were horny the entire time at the party.”
“Guilty.” He nudges along your head, giving it a gentle kiss all while rotating his hips so you can feel how hard he is. “You’re not going to take my baby?”
“Miguel…” Your breath hitches as now he has you trapped against the wall. Heavy breaths mingling along each other. His body getting warmer each second he grinds his erection against you. “Mmh where did this…god, where did this come from?”
“The party.” He says after each kiss to your temple, cheek, nose, and lips. “Surrounded by all of that baby stuff, made me realize I want you to carry what's mine. Ours.” He pressed a firm hand on your abdomen. “Our baby.”
Goosebumps appear on your skin, eyes locked on to his own, wanting, begging you to let him knock you up.
“A party made you feel that way?”
“Not just the party.” He picks you up, making you squeal. Your legs lock tight around his waist as his lips pepper your neck. Tiny kisses, small nips here and there. “Lately, I've been imagining us with a child. I've been fighting against telling you…”
You take in a breath when he sucks on your neck, right where your pulse is. “W-Why?”
“We haven't been dating long…Didn’t want to scare you…” He presses against your body more, not enough to crush you. Just enough to feel the outline of your bra against his chest, breasts along his pecs.
You sigh along his touch, angling your neck so he had more room. “I’m not scared…It just…aah…it just means you see a future with me.” Miguel pulls back, your lowered gaze telling him all that he needs to know. “Although, a baby is moving fast compared to marriage.”
“Right, right. I know.” He exhales, running his hand through his hair.
Yeah of course you’d think you’re moving too fast. What was he thinking?
You caress his face, giving him a kiss that lingers for a while. “We can pretend though. Just for this night.”
Miguel frowns a bit, “What do you mean by pretend?”
“You don’t have to wear a condom.” His eyes go wide at your unexpected offer. “I think that gives me…uh how long before I could get impregnated?”
“24 hours for the Plan B to be effective. But it is best for you to take it right away after I…you know.”
“Right. Let’s do it.” He shifts and you bite your lip to hold in your amusement. “What? Didn’t you want to plant a baby in me? What happened to that?”
“There’s…still a risk that you’d get pregnant even after you take the pill. I don’t want this to be something you’d regret…”
He didn’t want his desires to cloud your judgment. You’re the one he’s meant to be with, but he didn’t want to worry or put pressure on you. He wanted you to know of the potential risks.
“Miggy. If I do end up getting pregnant, then I’ll be glad to know it’s yours. No one else's.”
His heart squeezes at your face filled with affection. That desire comes back, rising from his stomach and traversing across his entire body. You having his baby was possible and you’d be okay with it. Oh, you don’t know what you’ve done.
You gasp at the crush against the wall. Miguel clashes along your lips, desire taking over. He’s swallowing your cries as his hand gropes your covered breast. His tongue parting your lips to dance with your own, humping against you.
He’s groping your ass, squeezing it each time you moan. He’d fuck you right by the doorway if he wanted to. But this wasn’t the proper position for you to take his cum.
So he breaks the kiss for a bit to take you to your bedroom.
Miguel places you on the bed before removing his shirt. He climbs on top to kiss you some more. He didn’t want to break apart from you more than he had to. He wanted to make sure you feel all of him. Each touch along your skin, igniting the flames to your desire. Each kiss to coax you into wanting more. He wasn’t going to stop until he knew his seed was going to carry.
Your shirt is tossed and he wasn’t going to waste time with your bra. He sliced in between your breasts, pulling it off. You didn’t even complain, not when his palms pushed against your nipples, making them harden with each second. He swallowed up any cries of pleasure with each grope. You push your chest further in so he could take more.
“Ooh, Miguel…”
“I got you baby. I know you need me.”
He bites your bottom lip with each pinch to your nipple. You’re closing your thighs with each caress, but he doesn’t let you do that for long. He goes in between them, dragging his lips down your neck and then to your breasts. The tip of his tongue flicking against your nipple, your cries making him smile against you, your back arching.
While he does so, he pulls off your shoes, your pants, those black, lacy panties. He’s almost tempted to skip the foreplay and immediately get to impregnating you. But he wants your pussy to be soaked so he can slid into you easily.
“You think you can take my baby like this?” You only shake your head, making him huff. “I agree. You’re not ready yet.”
When he takes off the rest of his clothes, his large shaft stands tall and proud. Some pre cum beading from the tip and trailing down. You’re staring, mouth agape while you’re dazed. You don’t even tear your eyes away when he strokes himself, smearing more of his cum all over. He brings a thumb over to your lips. His cock jumps at how you moan at the taste.
Then he puts your legs around his shoulders before diving in. He spreads your lips, rubbing that sensitive pearl of yours. You gasp as he licks, flattening his tongue to taste you more. His chest rumbles when your thighs squeeze along his head, only for him to push them apart.
“Hah…Mig…”
He sucks your clit just once, making your eyes roll back. Your hand tugs on his hair, pulling him to go deeper. But he denies you, putting his head up. Before you start to complain about his mouth missing, he plunges two fingers inside you, groaning at how slick you’re getting.
“Hmm is this for me? You really want a baby that bad?” You nod and he shudders. “Nena, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
You whine when he uses your slick to rub your clit, creating slow, circular motions. His fingers pumping in and out of you to form a nice rhythm. He’s taking in the scent of your arousal, mixed with the smell of that apple air freshener you use.
“What…what happened to knocking me, up?” You ask, tears on the brink of your eyes.
“Be patient.” Miguel picks up the pace in fingering you, not wanting to let up just for a moment. To have your climax slowly take over you and wash over your frame.
He’s taking in your breathing, how you’re shifting with each touch. When you’re trying to run and pull away with a certain touch, that’s where he hones in. During each flick of his thumb, every pump of his fingers, you’re getting louder, begging him to keep going. You’re about to explode. He helps you chase that feeling, pushing you to the brink where your toes curl. Your mouth goes wide, not hiding any sounds of ecstasy.
Miguel drinks it all in, still thrusting his fingers inside your slick hole until you’re ready to take him.
“Mig…Mig, please…I need you.”
He stares at how soaked you are, licking his fingers clean. Pre cum continues to drip from his slit and he can’t take it anymore.
Miguel lines himself up to your entrance, but he doesn’t push inside just yet.
“You need me to knock you up? Say you want a baby.”
“I want…I want a baby.”
“Say it again.”
“I want a baby…”
“Say it again.”
“I want a baby-aah!”
Miguel’s eyes roll back at the feel of your bare cunt. How you fit around him, squeezing him in all the right places enough to make him explode. He shudders, trying not to cum right there just yet. he needed to work for making sure he put a baby in you.
“You want my baby?”
“Yes!”
You moan when he pulls back and thrusts hard. A light slap filling the room. “Shock, you’re taking me so well.”
He moans when you don’t speak, not when he’s setting a decent pace in fucking you. Sliding back and forth between you, trying not to cum despite how wet your sex is. His muscles flexing when he keeps going.
That’s when he raises your legs, putting them up in the sky as he rocks his hips. You moan at the action, not being able to do much besides take his dick.
“This is good for making sure the baby takes.” He pants, not stopping his thrusts. “Can you hang in there?”
He grins when you nod profusely. You’re not even in the right mind to decide or answer anything.
“I need you so bad, Miggy. Please…”
“I got you.”
He bites his lip when he picks up speed, his tip hitting your cervix, making you cry out some more. Miguel keeps thinking about you with his child, your pregnant belly, how you’re happy he’s with you every step of the way. Just like his dream. That dream where he’s managed to make you carry his kid.
“Oh…oh god.” His thrusts get messy and he’s chasing his own pleasure. “Are you taking my baby?”
“Unh, yes, yes I am…”
“Come get it-”
Immediately Miguel cums, his seed filling up that hole of yours to the brim. His hand still tight around your ankles as his entire body quakes. He doesn’t stop until he knows every single drop is inside you. He tries to push his hips in further, making sure his cum isn’t wasted.
It gets to the point where he whines at the sensitivity before relaxing.
Your legs are to the side when he lands on top of you, giving you sloppy kisses. Each one containing love and care. As he comes down his high, he hides his face along the comforter.
“I can’t believe that happened…”
“Oh, now you’re embarrassed?” You giggle when he doesn’t look at you. “I liked it.”
He looks at you now, “Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.” You give a kiss to his cheek, tracing your thumb on his lips. “Like I said, it just shows you want a future with me.”
“I do…” He cups your face in his palm. You lean into it, giving him a wide smile. “It might take some time to get a ring. And I have to make sure you have admin access to HQ-”
“Miguel.” You shush him, giving him another kiss for good measure. “You don’t need to worry about that right now. Just stay right here with me.”
You’re right. He’ll make a list of what he needs to do so he can make you his wife tomorrow. Now, he nudges against your head, hand squeezing your side.
“You know…you have 22 hours until I need to take plan b.”
“I still got a few more in me.” Miguel flips you over, descending upon you once more.
I don’t usually make posts like this, but my heart is heavy right now. Hurricane Melissa has hit Jamaica hard , homes and communities are gone, hospitals are flooded, and so many families are struggling just to get by.
This isn’t just something I saw on the news. It’s home. My home. It’s where my people are. It’s where memories live and where hearts are breaking right now.
If you can, please visit donate here and donate, even a little. Every single bit of help makes a difference, whether it's food, shelter, or medical care… it all matters.
And if you can’t give, that’s okay. Just share this post so more people see it. Let’s show Jamaica that the world cares. 💚💛🖤
clark kent who… ties your shoes for you and when you both come home, automatically bends down to take them off without second thought, sometimes kissing your ankle too.
clark kent who… still shows up to your door to pick you up for dates. he’s got his hair gelled back with a bouquet of pink tiger lillies to go with your dress and his pearly whites on display.
“you, uh, you look stunning, sweetheart” he utters with a beet red face and a jaw almost on the floor.
clark kent who… could listen to you talk forever. working at a magazine gives you plenty of stories to tell him while you both lay under the covers with your fingers raking through his hair.
clark kent who… keeps a photo of you in his wallet. it was a candid he took of you on one of your dates. you were wearing his leather jacket and had the prettiest smile. he genuinely thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.
clark kent who… wants to make your life easier when he’s around. he’ll wash your dishes and spray you with water if you try to help. he’ll pay for any and every outing you two have despite your protests. he’s actually gotten you to allow him to pay your light bill, but he’d pay your rent in full if you’d let him.
clark kent who… can’t stand it when you cry. hearing your voice crack is enough to shatter him alone, but if he’s the one making you cry, yeah his heart is split clean in two. it’s seldom that he does though, but when it happens he’s so quick to apologize and make it up to you.
clark kent who… knows your ring size and WILL be using that information for your mutual benefit.
clark kent who… can’t stop yapping to lois and jimmy about how amazing you are. the day you finally meet them they realize you are nothing short of clark’s deep analysis. and you really are that gorgeous in person.
clark kent who… loves seeing how well you get along with his parents. his ma adores you, feeding you extra slices of her apple pie and flips through a baby book telling you stories about clark’s childhood (which makes clark really embarrassed). his pa admires you and clark’s dynamic. he thinks you’re very charismatic and just as sweet as his son. by the time you left the kent ranch, he’d taught you how to milk a cow and ride a horse.
clark kent who… cries when he sees you walking down the aisle in your beautiful wedding dress. you look even more gorgeous (if that’s even possible) and so nervous yet in so love with him. his “i do” is nothing but sincere, especially with the devoted look he gives you.
clark kent who… wastes no time expressing his deep desire for you that same night. he flew you both to a beachside resort where you both could relax. that night he fulfills your wildest dreams, outdoing himself from previous nights shared in the privacy of steamy sheets. he wakes you up the next day with a deep “good morning, mrs. kent” while kissing your neck on your honeymoon and those sheets became tangled all over again.
clark kent who… cries out of joy when you surprise him with your pregnancy. he’d been hearing a faint heartbeat from your body but thought nothing of it, until your surprise confirmed his suspicions. he picks you up and spins you around, kissing your face until you pull him by his tie to kiss your lips and deepen it.
clark kent who… wants nothing more than a life with you and your future child(ren). he wants to take care of you like a husband should, to love and cherish you even more than he already does. he wants to be the best father; the one who holds his kid’s hand on their first day of school, the one who comforts their child after a nightmare, the one who teaches their kid to be kind and strong and that both can coexist.
most of all, clark kent wants to be nothing but yours, forever and evermore.
calling clark a munch was almost an understatement. he couldn’t have sex with you without eating you out or at least making you cum once before he fucked you.
he claims it’s to prep you because he is superman-6’4 man of steel-so the rest of his body matches. in other words, he has a big dick.
what he doesn’t tell you is that he does it because he wants to. although he does need to prep you, he also loves to watch you squirm under his tongue.
which is how you're in this situation now. you’re straddling his hips as you two make out. you’ve been like this for a while, making out while grinding on each other.
your fingers are tangled in his hair as you hum onto his lips, drinking him up. His fingers dig into your hips, aiding you through your movements.
he pulls away just enough to place his forehead on yours and whisper “wanna taste you”. he doesn’t even let you respond, before his lips are against yours again.
you smile before pulling away and leaning your body to lay on your back before he places a hand at your side and pulls you back on top of him. your eyebrows push together in confusion as you place a hand on his chest.
“not like that honey” he says it like it's nothing, like you were supposed to know. he grabs both sides of your hips before pulling them towards his face.
before you can fully process your thighs are beside both his ears and you're hovering over his lower face.
“clark” you warn, both from shock and confusion, still hovering over his face. he smiles up at you, placing a hand on each of your thighs to press you down onto him, “sit” is all he says.
you make a sound between a huff and a giggle before placing your right hand over his. “I could suffocate you, how am i supposed to know if you can't breathe.”
“i can hold my breath for a while, i'll be fine, i’ll lift you off if i need to.” his thumb rubs at your inner thigh as he reassures you, the look on his face telling you he's serious, “please” he begs.
he kisses your knee and you nod, how could you say no to him? shifting your hips to lower yourself onto his face, still hovering slightly he pushes you down onto him and you moan, feeling his lips against your folds.
your hands instinctively run through his curls as your other hand falls to his chest for support. “oh clark” you moan as his lips suction around your clit, his hands tightening around the plush of your thighs.
when his mouth moves to tease at your entrance his tongue laps at your entrance as his nose pushes against your clit deliciously.
his tongue plunges into your hole, which previously clenched around nothing, now tightening around his tongue.
he hums into your core, pulling his tongue from your entrance to lick at your sensitive bud again. “fuck, feels so good, don't stop” you whimper tugging at his curls with the right amount of roughness making him moan onto your core.
you’re sure if your boyfriend wasn’t superman you would’ve suffocated him.
breathy moans and slurs of his name fall from your lips as your thighs begin to burn from the constant grinding.
clark picked up on this by the way your hips slow, he palms at the globes of your ass pushing your pussy further onto his lips aiding the grind of your hips, still lapping at your clit, sucking just when you need him to.
your hips buck matching the rhythm he's created, sending you closer and closer to the edge. clark ate you out like a man starved, like if he didn’t make you cum he’d feel as if he failed you. but nothing about the way he was making you feel said failure.
“clark- oh fuck- im close” your hips continue to rut against his tongue, his hands kneading your ass as he coaxes you through your orgasm.
you grind your hips harder on his mouth chasing your orgasm. your thighs begin to shake when your orgasm rushes through your body, as you tug on his hair bringing him impossibly closer to your pussy.
you whimper as his name slips from your lips as you cum, he laps up every drop he can riding out your high, only stopping when you force your hips off his mouth.
“did so good honey” he smiles before kissing your knee and raising you by your thighs to place you on his waist, then pulling you down to his chest, stroking your back and kissing your forehead.
You tell Clark that it's impossible for him to lift you up just on his biceps — he proves you wrong.
cw: 18+, smut, bicep riding, softdom!clark
"What? You don't think I can do it?"
"It's not that I think you can't, I think the center of gravity and balance in general would make me fall right off."
"No no — …" Clark had completely abandoned the book on his lap, holding his finger up at you in that ridiculous way whenever he was ready to get heated.
You smacked his digit away from your face as he attempted to obnoxiously shushed you where you lay.
"Ow…— ugh. I believe what you said verbatim, was — 'I don't think you can do it it.' Which then implies, I cannot do it."
"Jesus Clark, it's like me saying I'm trying balance a grape on a toothpick. It'll fall off."
"So now you're saying my arms are a toothpick?" He breaths out, rising up on his side of the bed. You could feel his gaze boring into your back.
"No, baby," it comes out like an afterthought, "you're the strongest…most…" and you yawn, "jacked up man."
"Mh…turn the lights off when you slee—hp!" A prolonged groan leaves your lips when Clark's arms hook around your hips, twisting you to sit upright.
You shoot him a deathly glare when you're propped up like a doll onto the meat of his thighs, legs splayed beneath you with your palms rested on his abdomen.
"Get on."
"Clark."
"Baby, get on my arms."
You could tell he was serious, weirdly so when he took on that voice he reserved for Superman.
Begrudgingly, you half-crawled up the expanse of his body. Which you had to admit was sort of enjoyable considering the surface area you had.
Eventually, amused giggle rips through you when his muscles flex beneath, making the journey there like a rollercoaster.
Clark on the other hand, has the most stoic expression you'd seen on him.
"You realise how stupid this is, right?"
He hums, non-committally as you slide your thighs on the other side of his arms. Thumbing the softer tendon near his elbows to get on. It flexes to your touch, the pliant muscles turning almost rigid.
That very first shift sent shockwaves down your spine, making you stiffen your back. Clark was far too occupied with getting you steady, blissfully unaware of your current dilemma.
You stabilise yourself, running your fingertips up the rounder muscles of his delts, thick to your touch, down to the groove and dip of his tendons.
He does it without warning.
Clenching his fists tight as he gives you a testing lift. You gasp loudly when he flexes, the fibres of his muscles sitting snug against your clit — forearms curled in a manner that covered all the way up to your ass.
Your hips grew tense as he lifted you high enough for your toes to no longer brush against the sheets. A stuttered gasp choking you when he flexes mid-air, making you squirm and dig your nails tighter into his shoulders.
Clark sets you down almost immediately at your reaction, sending another wave of electricity down your spine when the motion causes you to rub up the span of his biceps.
"I'm sorry! Shoot. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He rotates his arm a tad, forcing you to readjust and lean over him.
Your palms snap up to rest right on his sternum, hastily slapping repeatedly over it, gasping. "Wait — Wait! S…Stop flexing."
"I-I'm not!" He protests, but he didn't get it. You were feeling every single twitch of his muscles, intended or not. Clark picks up on your increased heart rate.
The corners of his lips twitch up when he realises. Rubbing soothing circles on your hips. Lowering his head to meet your gaze, while pushing your hair away from your face. "Oh…honey…"
You'd squirmed away, unwilling to look at him.
"Hey. It's okay."
Clark's attempt to calm you only served to embarrass you, but he doesn't shame you for it. Doesn't even point it out.
Instead — he guides you to sit down with your full weight onto his biceps.
Clark cranes his neck to kiss your shoulders, resting his cheek on the softness of your tits. "That feel good huh?"
You'd tried your best not to make any movements. But his low rasp has you nodding involuntarily.
"Poor thing. Have I not given her enough attention?"
Clark's words, though mocking, had you squeezing around his biceps more.
"Jus'…feels different."
He hums with a slow nod, thumping at the waist band of your shorts.
"You wanna take them off, baby? It'll feel better."
You meet his completely serious gaze, swallowing thickly as you tug the cotton off — Clark meets you half way to let the discarded fabric dangle on your ankles.
"That's it. Good girl. C'mon." He hums. Words soft and reverent as he presses kisses down your clothed chest.
"Sit on it."
Your arms shakily come up to rest around Clark's broader shoulders. Hips trembling where they hovered over his arms. Fingers idly twisting the sleeve of his shirt that were rolled up from exertion.
It felt hot when your folds grazed over his muscle, and you jump. Quivering as you attempted to rest your cunt flush into his arms.
Clark sighs into you, "told you to sit, baby." You whined loudly when his palm forces you down for emphasis. Letting his groan slip out at the slickness of your cunt coat the upper area of his biceps.
He flexes once, and he feels you squeeze.
"Clark…it feels…"
Clark lifts his head, looking at you all dazed as he steadily begins to flex. He wasn't even sure you were aware that your hips had subconsciously moved inch by inch to follow the warm muscles protruding at every shift.
"Feels good?"
You nod quickly. Leaning forward for your clit to rub against the stiff muscles on his biceps. Whining softly as you dragged your soaking pussy up and down the biciptial grooves.
"S-Shit, oh m…y god.." You bite down on your hips hard when he remained tensed. Letting you rub as hard as you wanted over the expanse of his muscles.
He feels you cumming before you say it. At the way you were beginning to squeeze harder along the veins of his biceps, and the breathy pants that followed.
Clark eases you gently into his arms as you'd come down, pressing a gentle kiss at the side of your head.
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