#: he holds me in his big arms / drunk and i am seeing stars
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݁˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚ KINKTOBER!
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୨ৎ REQUESTS: CLOSED FOR KINKTOBER!
requesting rules:
be as specific as possible! it makes the process of writing easier and faster, as well as getting your request shaped more closely to how you envision it! i only do requests that i want to do! i will not write anything with incest or pedophilia, though other dark topics are welcome !!
hiii 🫶 i’m in love with how you write clark kent 💕 i was wondering if you could write something with him being desperate to eat the reader out
like maybe they’re visiting his parents for a few days and she refuses to do anything in his parent’s house but she’s wearing shorts and dresses and being so sweet so he’s incredibly pent up
so he drags her outside and just drops to his knees and buries himself under her dress (like he doesn’t even bother taking off her panties he just eats through and around) he’s starving and messy and she’s just trying not to pass out
Plzplzplz if it’s not too much trouble 💕💕💕🫶 YOUR AMAZINGGGV
contains! oral (f. receiving), a whole lot of horny thoughts, semi-public sex.
summary: clark’s taken you to visit his parents. he can’t seem to keep it together though, all he can think about is your pussy…
— original ask.
݁˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚ the Kent farmhouse was warm, lived in, and so wholesome it made Clark’s skin itch with guilt for what he was thinking.
he’d grown up here, every board creaking with memory, every corner carrying his mothers patience and his fathers steady hand. now he was sitting at the long kitchen table again, shoulders squared in a plaid shirt, trying to look like the good son he always was.
and you were across from him, wearing shorts that were so small they barely covered your ass.
it wasn’t your fault, you weren’t trying to be cruel. you were sweet to his ma, telling her that the pie cooling on the windowsill looked to die for, giggling when you asked about stories of Clark as a boy. you helped dry dishes, offered to set the table, complimented Martha’s flower arrangement for the centrepiece, smiled constantly.
and that should have been a relief… but Clark couldn’t focus on anything but the way your bare thighs stuck slightly to the kitchen chair, or how your sundress rode up when you leaned to pass him a plate. his cock had been hard under the table more times that he could count, straining thick and heavy against his jeans, leaking precum into his briefs while he smiled politely and answered his mothers questions about how work had been going or how he was finding metropolis lately.
every brush of your hand on his arm, every warm laugh, every innocent glance up at him with those wide eyes of yours was torture. you were sweet, wholesome and polite, and yet all he could think about was spreading your thighs wide and licking you until you cried out his name.
but not here. god, not here. not under his parents roof.
dinner came all too quick yet it dragged on for what felt like a century. you sat beside him, laughing at his fathers terrible jokes, leaning in close, your soft shoulder brushing his arm. his cock throbbed painfully, and he had to keep his napkin bunched up in his lap to hide the outline of it. by the time they were finished, Clark was so strung up he could barely think. and then you excused yourself to the porch, saying something about how the sun looked “so gorgeous on the plains”, Clark didn’t really pay attention though, because your little dress was fluttering around your thighs in the evening breeze when you stepped outside in a way that made him follow you like a dog.
you leaned over the railing, looking out over the fields with a soft smile, hair practically glowing in the golden light of the evening. he closed the door behind him, heart hammering, his whole body trembling with want. he said your name softly and you turned to him, smiling like you always did.
he crossed the space in two strides, hands grabbing at your waist, lifting your body. you gasped in surprise as he set you down on the wide porch railing, legs dangling, dress riding up indecently high.
“Clark—” you started, breathless, but he was already sinking to his knees in front of you.
it felt obscene—it was obscene—the farm spread out behind them, fireflies flickering in the tall grass, the faint sound of his mother humming inside while dealing with the dishes. and there he was, on his knees on the old wooden porch, about to shove his face in between your thighs.
he leaned in, mouth brushing up on your clothed cunt. your panties were thin cotton, pale and soft and already damp against his lips. he groaned low in his chest as he mouthed at you through the fabric, tongue pressing against your slit until you whimpered, clutching at his hair.
“Clark— oh, god—”
your sweetness, your scent, the way you trembled under his mouth, it all destroyed him. he licked broad, messy stripes over your cunt through the panties, sucking lightly, soaking the fabric with spit and your wetness. his cock throbbed through his jeans, painfully hard, perfume smearing in his briefs as he ground helplessly against nothing, desperate for any kind of relief.
he hooked a finger in the gusset of your panties and pulled them aside. the sight hit him as hard as an actual blow would: your pussy bare and glistening, lips swollen, clit peeking out, so close he could taste you.
Clark groaned, burying his face against your cunt. his tongue dragged up your slit, hot and wet, lapping greedily. he sucked at your clit, gentle at first, then harder when you gasped and pulled his hair. he was messy, desperate, smearing his face with your slick, moaning against you as if eating you out was the only thing that had ever mattered. you clutched the railing with one hand and his hair with the other, thighs trembling around his head, “Clark— ohmigod, Clark, fuck!!—”
the sound of you swearing from pure pleasure spurred him on. he licked into you, tongue thrusting, then up again to swirl around your clit. he couldn’t get enough. the taste of you filled his mouth, slick dripping down his chin, and he moaned against your pussy like he was cumming from the flavour alone.
“baby, please, don’t stop,” you gasped, rolling your hips against his mouth.
he didn’t, he couldn’t. he sucked your clit hard, tongue flicking fast, two fingers sliding up to tease at your entrance, spreading your wetness as he devoured you. you cried out, thighs squeezing tight around his head, and then you were cumming, shuddering, your cunt clenching as you spilled hot against his tongue.
Clark groaned, sucking harder, drinking you down. his cock pulsed in his jeans, so hard it hurt, precum soaking the denim, but he didn’t care. he just held your hips steady and ate you through it, lapping and suckling until you sagged against the railing, whimpering and spent.
when he finally pulled back, his face was wet with slick, chin glistening, lips swollen. he looked up at you with wide, adoring eyes, still kneeling like a man in prayer.
you sighed, tired but happy, and looked down at the problem at his crotch. “let’s… deal with you next.” you proposed, biting your lip as Clark rose to his feet.
he groaned a little as he looked down at himself tenting in his jeans, already trying to figure out a way to get through the house and up to the guest bedroom without letting ma and pa Kent see the… situation.
summary: After the fall of the prison, you and Daryl find yourselves separated together. (This is very loosely based on s4ep12 of the Walking Dead.)
warnings/table of contents: 18+, but mostly fluff? strong language, slight smut—dry-humping, Daryl comes in his pants, smoking, alcohol consumption
The prison fell two or three months ago, or so you estimated. It was hard to keep track of time, and with everything shot to shit, you wondered if it even mattered. As long as you made it to the next day, that was enough for you.
You hadn’t seen anyone from the group since, except for Daryl. The two of you had been separated together after the prison fall, though certainly not by choice. It just sort of happened. Daryl was quiet, reserved, and downright mean if you pressed him too hard. Being with Daryl was a lot like being alone. He never spoke unless you said something to him first, and he didn’t like to look at you much. But he was always there, in his own way. Wherever you went, he would follow closely behind. He always made sure you were fed, even if it meant he had to spend all damn day tracking deer. He took care of you even though he didn’t have to, and you respected him for it.
You never stayed in one place for too long. Daryl was a natural born explorer, you figured that out far before the separation. The majority of your days were spent walking alongside railroad tracks and through the woods. And despite the constant pain in the heels of your feet, you followed him without any complaints.
The two of you were bound in the mouth of summer. The Georgian sun was hellish and unrelenting, the air heavy with moisture. The only relief came every hour or so when Daryl would wring his wet bandana out over your forehead. It smelled of dirt and sweat thanks to him, but cleanliness was a privilege you gave up on a long, long time ago.
Presently, you stood in the middle of a junkyard scavenging for supplies. Daryl was rummaging through the hood of an old truck, while you were trying your hardest to look useful. He knew you weren’t much help in these situations, but you felt uncomfortable standing around doing nothing while he worked his ass off. You did however manage to find a crinkled dirty magazine, something you hoped Daryl would find amusing.
You walked over to where he stood before the truck, holding the porn print behind your back. He looked over at you, wiping the sweat from his brow. He immediately sized you up, taking in your stance: hands behind your back, a mysterious smirk painted across your features. His brow furrowed in curiosity.
“Did ya find somethin’ useful?” he asked, putting his wrench down to give you his full attention.
“You could say that…” You suddenly felt shy in his presence, and you shifted in your boots.
“Well? C’mon, girl. Let’s see it.” He pawed for your hands, but you twisted away from him, laughing.
“Alright, alright!” You hesitated for a second before whipping the magazine out and shoving it in his face.
He glanced at the centerfold and scoffed. The tips of his ears turned beet red as he awkwardly stared into the hood of the truck.
You carelessly let go of the pages and the magazine fell to the ground. “You don’t like it?” you teased him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Ya said it was somethin’ useful.”
“It is useful, Daryl. You’re a guy, you should know that.”
“Shut up,” he murmured, though there was no mistaking he got a little kick out of your antics. He shot you a look of playful warning before reaching into his front pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out, wetting the tip of it with his lips and flicking his lighter.
You stared at him, watching as he took a long, deep drag from his cigarette. He looked up at you again, and a sly grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, causing the cigarette to hang from his lips.
“Ya ever smoked before?” he asked, rolling the cigarette in his fingers.
“No.” You looked down at your feet.
“Here,” he nodded in your direction before tossing the pack to you. You caught it in your hands and pulled one out, bringing it between your lips. He flicked the lighter once or twice before it caught flame. He held the lighter up to the end of your cigarette. His hands were now hovering before your face, making your stomach drop. “Alright,” he said, watching the end begin to burn. “Careful. Don’t wanna take too much too fast, you’ll start ta cou—“ you cut him off, already starting to choke on the overwhelming amount of smoke invading your lungs. He laughed then, a real laugh, and although your eyes were stinging and you were coughing something fierce, you couldn’t help but think that was the best first cigarette anyone has ever smoked.
It was getting dark fast, and Daryl and you knew you needed to find a place to stay for the night. He led you aimlessly through the woods, looking back at you every so often to make sure you were keeping up. You watched him as he moved—quick but careful, the muscles in his left tricep swollen from the weight of his crossbow, his right arm swinging back and forth in that familiar way. He looked beautiful, almost like an angel you thought, but maybe that was because you’d been staring at the back of his vest for the past hour.
After what felt like an eternity, you stumbled across a little cabin in the woods. It was small and overgrown, but neither of you cared much. Daryl made you wait on the porch while he cleared the building, and you leaned against a pillar until he gave you the all clear.
The cabin looked even smaller on the inside. There was a couch that seemed clean enough, and you practically collapsed on top of it. Daryl smirked, glancing over at you as he worked on boarding up the windows. You perched on your elbows, silently watching as he then dragged the filthy mattress to the middle of the room. He walked over to the kitchen and began swinging open the cabinet doors one by one, looking for anything to fuel your bodies. At the last cabinet door he paused, staring dumbfounded at whatever was inside.
“Well, shit.” he said.
“What is it?”
Daryl pulled two glass jars from the cabinet, examining the contents briefly before walking over to where you sat on the couch. He sat the jars down on the coffee table with a thud. His body was now looming over you, and there was a proud smirk on his face.
“What?” You stared absentmindedly at the jars.
“It’s moonshine, dumbass.”
“So? You wanna get drunk or something?”
He shrugged. “Ain’t got nothin’ better to do.”
You sat quietly for a moment, thinking. Getting drunk wasn’t the wisest thing you could do in the apocalypse. In fact, it was probably the stupidest thing you could do.
“Fuck it,” you said, beat. “Help me open the jar.”
A half a jar of moonshine later and Daryl was drunk. You didn’t expect him to drink so much so fast, but you didn’t question him about it. He’d been through hell and back these past few months. He deserved a break, and you were glad to give it to him.
He sat on the coffee table facing you, a jar of liquor on either side of him. His arms were crossed over his chest, and you couldn’t help but admire his impressive biceps. He was in the middle of telling you some drunken story about Merle, but you couldn’t hear him. Your mind could only think of one thing: what it would feel like for him to choke you.
You tried to get your mind out of the gutter and think of anything else. The returning sting in the back of your heels reminded you of your blisters, and you wanted desperately to shed your boots.
“Daryl,” you mumbled.
“Hm?” His eyes snapped in your direction, already forgetting what he was blabbering about for hours.
“Can you help me get my boots off? My feet are killing me.” You extended a foot upward to him, resting your heel on the edge of the table between his thighs.
Daryl slowly started at your shoelaces. He was hunched over your foot, brow furrowed, trying his damndest to focus on the task at hand. When he finished he pushed your foot back down, allowing it to fall beside the other. He then crouched down before your feet, beginning to work on the other shoe.
You looked down at him, and he was already looking at you. You could have sworn you saw God in his eyes, and it occurred to you then that he might have been your savior. He was drunk and happy; you were buzzed. This stupid, whiskey-induced smile was inhabiting his lips for God knows how long. You’ve never seen him look so flat-footed, so warm, so open. It took everything within you not to tumble off the couch and fuck him right there on the dirty carpet. His voice knocked you back to your senses, and when you felt the soft ache at the corners of your mouth, you realized you had been grinning at him.
“What?” he asked, finally finished working at your knotted shoelaces. He tore the boots from your feet and tossed them under the coffee table.
“What?” you repeated, lips still stuck in a soft smirk.
“You’re grinnin’ at me like a psycho.”
“Shut up. I’m just drunk.”
He scoffed. “Lightweight.” Daryl raised to his knees, like he was contemplating getting up from the floor. He was so close to you now, and you just couldn’t bear it anymore. Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him. It was a fast and unromantic kiss, more like a peck, but you were too drunk and foolish to let the moment pass you by. He pulled back, falling back onto his ass, his back hitting the edge of the coffee table. He didn’t even react to the pain. He just looked at you like you burned him.
“You’re drunk.” Daryl was on his feet now, looking around nervously for something to do.
“Shit, Daryl. I’m sorry.” You stood to your feet and he immediately stumbled back. Your lips curved into a frown. You knew you’d fucked up.
He didn’t respond, he couldn’t. He just drunkenly walked over to the door and picked up his crossbow, slinging it over his shoulder. He looked back at you once before heading out the door.
You plopped back onto the couch, defeated. Embarrassment boiled in your belly and you began to cry. You knew he knew you wouldn’t leave, but you didn’t know for sure if he was coming back.
An hour passed with no sight of Daryl. You wanted to die more than anything. You got up and walked over to the mattress he had cleaned up for you both. You curled up into a ball, body facing the wall opposite of the front door. If he did come back, you were not going to look him in the face. Not tonight, maybe not ever again.
Another hour passed and by now you were asleep. Daryl entered quietly through the front door. He saw you through the window, and although he had his questions, he wasn’t going to disturb your slumber. Instead, he placed his crossbow beside the mattress and lay down. His body moulded into yours, though not quite touching. There weren’t any blankets, so he was searching for warmth wherever he could find it. You didn’t wake up, not at first.
It all started when you began to twitch in your sleep. They were light, barely noticeable movements, but Daryl thought you might have been having a nightmare. He lightly grabbed your hip, trying to steady your restless body. Slowly, he inched himself closer to you, so that now your bodies were touching. The warmth of his body heat forced you out of unconsciousness, and before you could even register what was happening, you felt it.
He was hard. Like, really hard, pressed flush against the curve of your ass. You tried hard not to react, but your body failed you. You gasped, heat pooling in your belly and traveling down between your legs. Your thighs squeezed together then, and he must have felt it because he dug his fingers harder into your hip.
“Daryl,” you whispered. You felt him start to grind his hips testingly against your ass.
“Is this okay?” he breathed heavily, burying his face into the crook of your neck. All you could do was nod. He ground down harder, his fingernails digging so deep into the skin of your hip he almost punctured it. You could barely even register the pain with him grinding relentlessly against you.
He continued his uneven movements, hips rutting into you like the feeling was all too much for him. You could tell he was already getting close, and you weren’t going to let him get off that easy. Not like that, not without you.
You peeled away from him, resting on your knees. He whimpered, silently begging you for mercy with his eyes—dark, desperate, almost pathetic. You placed a finger to his chest, applying light pressure.
“On your back,” you commanded, poking further into his chest. He fell backwards, his back sinking into the mattress as he impatiently awaited your next move.
Carefully, you unbuttoned your jeans. He watched you as you moved—with full intent, looking up at him the entire time. You leaned back on the mattress, and he swallowed as you tore your jeans off completely, eyes fixed on your newly exposed skin and underwear. Your undergarments weren’t anything special—just simple, grey cotton underwear, but the sight made Daryl’s breath hitch. You wondered if he had ever found himself in this position before: a woman sat in front of him, half-naked, willing, wanting. From the pitiful nonverbal pleads escaping his lips, you figured maybe he hadn’t.
You climbed on his lap, straddling his hips. The sudden pressure on his groin caused Daryl to let out a low groan. His hands twitched on either side of your thighs, like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you yet. In response, you simply placed your hands over his, guiding them to rest on the curve of your hip. He squeezed gingerly, careful not to hurt you again.
Then, testingly, you rolled your hips against his lap. Daryl gasped, propping up on his elbows to watch you ride him.
You smiled, continuing the torturous rolls over his clothed cock. “Is this good, Daryl?”
“Yeah. S’good. Feels real good.” he breathed, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back.
You watched the strain of his neck, Adam’s apple protruding as he swallowed hard. You began to slowly rub your middle finger up and down your covered clit. The feeling combined with the steady ride of Daryl’s bulge made you whimper.
He looked back up at you, mouth agape at the sight of you touching yourself.
“Shit,” he murmured. “Look at ya. Fuckin’ beautiful.”
“God, Daryl.” The sound of you moaning his name was enough to send him off a cliff. He stifled a moan, steadying your hips with his hands.
The more you teased the pinnacle of your cunt, the more arousal seeped through, painting the front half of your underwear a darker shade of grey. Your hips began to twitch involuntarily, and no matter how hard Daryl tried to hold you in place, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep a steady rhythm.
Daryl moved his hand then, fingers brushing yours before moving your hand aside. “Here,” muttered Daryl. He brought his thick fingers to your clit, attempting to mimic what you were doing before. “I wanna help ya.”
You nodded, shuddering from his touch. His fingers and hands were twice the size of yours. The way he circled over your clothed cunt made it throb with both pleasure and pain. It took a minute for his fingers to find your sweet spot, but when he did, God help you.
The pressure in your core came without warning. It was becoming too much—your hips grinding against Daryl’s jeans, coating the denim with your slick. His hips jerked beneath you, fingers still working hard at your clit. It was enough to make you see stars. You were near the edge, Daryl could feel it. He quickened the pace of his fingers, wanting so badly to see you break.
And approximately five seconds later, you did break. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. The entirety of your upper body fell forward and you pressed your face firm against Daryl’s chest. You sucked in short, shallow breaths, Daryl’s natural scent of dirt and skin filling your being. Ragged, high-pitched moans vibrated into his shirt. His levee broke shortly after yours, warmth spreading throughout the confines of his pants. His head shot up to hide his face in your hair as uncontrollable whimpers slipped out from his mouth.
The two of you lie there, trying to catch your breaths. Your head is still pressed to Daryl’s chest, his still buried in your sweaty hair. You feel the strands of your hair stick to his lips as he tries to open his mouth and say something, but he doesn’t. He just plants a soft, almost unsure kiss to the top of your head. His elbows feel as if they might collapse, and he lies back on the mattress, taking you with him.
Daryl doesn’t dare move. He should get up, fix the mess in his pants, maybe even dart off into the woods. Anything that would get him far away from you, from what happened tonight. But there he lay, with his hand on your head like he was trying to protect you from the rest of the world. You hummed against Daryl’s chest as that post-coital tingle settled between your legs. Everything was still—safe.
After a while, Daryl spoke:
“Wasn’t expectin’ that.”
“Me either.” You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. “Do you wish we hadn’t?”
“No,” he frowned. “Didn’t say that. Just…”
He was silent for a while, thinking.
“I wanna keep ya safe. Don’t know if I’m doin’ a very good job at that right now…” he trailed off.
“You are,” you reassured, looking right through him. “You’re not as bad as you think.”
A small smirk tugged at his lips, and he reached out to tuck the hair behind your ear.
“I—I wanna try. To take care of ya. If you’ll let me.”
“I’d like that, Daryl.” You rested your head against his chest again, feeling the heady beat of his heart. The world suddenly felt so small, like maybe everything wasn’t falling apart. Like maybe you could have something real with him, even if it was just for the night.
contains: 18+ material, titjob. sorry this took so long!
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✮ Clark’s breathing was already uneven when you pushed him back against the couch. he looked up at you with that same startled, bashful awe he always had—like he couldn’t quite believe you wanted him this way.
you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, your smile slow and mischievous, “relax,” you whispered, hands sliding up his chest, “i just wanna try something.”
your fingers went to the buttons of your blouse, undoing them one by one until smooth skin and soft curves spilled free. the sight made his throat go dry. his hands twitched, as if he wanted to touch but wouldn’t dare. he was far too polite.
“it’s okay,” you said, as if reading his shy mind, guiding his wrists gently to your sides, “you can.” his palms trembled against your skin, large and warm, his touch reverent and almost shy.
you shifted lower, brushing against him. he was already hard, the bulge of his cock pressing hot through his trousers. you peeled away the layers of clothing: the finicky zipper of his pants and then the boxers he was already fighting against from the inside. when you freed him, he groaned under his breath, head tipping back. you smiled, “lie back for me.”
Clark obeyed instantly, and you nestled yourself between the gap in his legs. you gave the head of his cock a quick kiss, staring up at him through your lashes with a look of pure mischief before you pressed your tits together and slid his cock between the soft, warm curves.
Clark’s entire body tensed. his breath caught audibly, fingers clutching at the couch cushions before he let out a strangled, “oh, god.”
you moved slowly at first, letting the motion build, getting yourself used to this entirely new position. you spit between your cleavage so it would glide smoothly with each pass. the friction was perfect, hot and slippery. his eyes fluttered shut, jaw tightening as he struggled to keep still.
“is that good?” you asked, noticing his expression that told you he was enjoying this whole thing very much. god, he was way too easy.
his answer was just a sound—low and pleasured—and a twitch of his hips that told you everything that you needed to know. you leaned down slightly, licking at the reddening, licking tip of him as it thrust up through the valley of your breasts. he was flushed and trembling, trying so hard to last, to be good, and that made the heat between your legs burn even brighter.
“Clark,” you whispered, “you can touch me if you want.”
his hands rose, hesitant, first touching your arms and sliding upward, fingers tracing over your shoulders before sliding down again and cupping the soft flesh of your breasts. every movement was careful, tender, like he was afraid to break you.
your pace quickened; his breath hitched. you could feel how close he was from the way his body tensed, little sounds escaping through his clenched teeth. you leaned in closer, voice soft but firm: “just cum for me, Clark.”
his body arched. the sound he made was almost a groan, almost a plea. you kept moving, holding him there between your tits until he finally broke, erupting over your skin in hot ropes, some getting on your chin.
you licked the cum of your bottom lip, “told you to relax.”
i have a new blog જ⁀➴ @eroticanas, and write for characters such as luke riordan (gen v), benjamin poindexter (daredevil), rick flag jr (dc), and more…
೯there will be problematic and dark material on that blog, because yes, im a pervert so if that’s not for you, steer clear! stay safe and stay freaky baby! xo
contains: 18+ material, size difference, smut with fluff. add yourself to the kinktober taglist!
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✮ the room was dim, lit only by the amber glow spilling in from the rainy metropolis street outside, the neon lights shining in the puddles like stained glass. the air inside was warm, heavy, and quiet except for the sound of breathing— yours, quick and unsteady, and his, low and ragged.
Clark had you pinned beneath him, one arm braced above your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you open for him. his body dwarfed yours completely, he was all broad shoulders and corded muscles, all of it shifting with deliberate movement as his cock thrusted into you with an unyielding rhythm. he was trembling, not from effort, but from restraint.
he stared down at you, the way your sopping cunt stretched around his cock so deliciously, so inviting, so warm and loving. he shouldn’t want it this badly, but he did.
your hand slid up the back of his neck. “you can,” you whispered, knowing that look of want in his eyes, that look that said: i want to cum so deep inside you that it sticks this time.
that confirmation snapped his already fraying control.
his next thrust was deep, so deep it forced a sound from your throat, a wordless cry that made his head spin. he dipped his head down into the crook of your neck and groaned against your ear, voice low and rough, whispering things to you he would never say if it weren’t for the lustful haze surrounding him. promises, pleas, filthy little admissions of how badly he needed to fill you up, to make you his in the most ancient, primal way.
his hips tilted up, meeting him, pulling him deeper still. you could feel every tremor in his body, every desperate exhale against your heated skin. when you wrapped your legs around his waist, the motion drew his cock to the hilt, and he swore under his breath—that raw, broken sound that always came when he was seconds away from losing control.
“you feel so—” he choked out, words dying on his tongue. his forehead lifted and fell to yours, breath hot and unsteady, “i can’t hold back, not when you— when you do that.”
your answer came in a breathy laugh: “then don’t, Clark.” it wasn’t a command, it was permission.
he froze, every muscle tight, fighting himself even as his body moved on instinct. then, with a low, strangled groan, he gave in completely. the rhythm turned rougher, deeper, needier. each motion drove him closer to the edge, each sound you made—broken, pleasured little gasps, that pleading tone when you said his name—made his vision blur. you were clinging to him now, nails biting into his back, whispering over and over for him to just let go, to give you everything.
when his orgasm hit, it was overwhelming. his whole body went rigid, the breath torn from him, and he pressed as deep into your tight cunt as it would allow him to. the sound he made as he came was low and guttural, a sound of surrender and dominance all at once. you could feel the way he trembled above you, his chest heaving and his cock pulsed inside you, filling you with cum, hot and wet and comforting, claiming.
he didn’t pull away. he just stayed there, inside you, chest pressed to yours, both of you breathing hard, clinging to that fragile, molten quiet that followed.
he pulled his cock out of you slowly, your pussy clinging tight the whole way out. cum leaked out of you, dripping down onto the sheets in a pearlescent mess.
Clark’s heart ached at the sight of you: cheeks pinked, sweat on your brow, and a look of satisfaction in your eyes. he stroked your hair, hoping that this moment of closeness would leave something behind.
contains: 18+ material, dubcon. add yourself to the kinktober taglist!
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✮ Clark slept like the dead: flat on his back, arm flung over his head, the rise and fall of his broad chest slow and steady. the muscle of his arms bulged even in slumber, his glasses were on the nightstand, his mouth parted slightly, soft snores escaping. he looked so harmless like this, so gentle, trusting. and it made your cunt throb.
you’d been lying awake beside him for an hour, panties soaked, staring at the outline of his cock tenting the thin fabric of his sleep pants. it was too much. he was too big, too thick, and you were too wet to resist.
so… you didn’t.
carefully, biting your lip, you eased the waistband of his pants down, baring him to the cool night air. his cock flopped heavy against his stomach, long and fat.
“fuck…” you whispered to only yourself, pussy clenching around nothing.
you swung a leg over his hips, moving to straddle him. your slick cunt ached, dripping already. you rubbed yourself against the length of him, smearing your wetness all over his shaft, shivering at how hot and thick he felt underneath you.
you lined him up and then sank down, pussy stretching around him inch by inch, sweetly painful, walls clenching desperately as his cock filled you. he was too big—as he always was—your cunt fluttering helplessly as you strained to take him to the hilt, and a shuddering moan ripped out of your throat before you could stop it. Clark stirred, groaning softly in his sleep but he didn’t wake.
you grinned, grinding down on him, feeling the fat head of his cock hit your sweetest and deepest spot. “mmm, that’s it. sleep, baby, just let me use this fat cock…”
you rode him slowly at first, slick, squelching sounds filling the room, your pussy clinging tight to his thickness. each drop of your hips made his cock punch deep inside you, hitting all the places that made you whimper. your clit throbbed, swollen and catching against the base with every grind. but it wasn’t enough. you reached down and rubbed it furiously, your voice breaking with the overwhelming pleasure from the two sensations. “oh, fuckkkkk, i’m gonna cum all over you, Clark,” you whined out, “i’m gonna make such a mess of your cock…”
his body shifted under you, a frown twitching across his sleeping face while his cock jerked inside you, leaking, feeding your cunt with slick heat. that was enough to push you over the edge. your body locked up, cunt spasming wildly as you came hard, crying out into the quiet room. wet gush coated his cock, dripping down his balls, soaking the sheets. you trembled, grinding through it, milking him shamelessly.
and then you felt it: his cock twitching violently inside you.
“fuck—” you gasped out. Clark groaned in his sleep, his hips bucking once. his cock throbbed and he came hot inside of you, filling you up until it spilled back out around his shaft.
you moaned again, sinking all the way back down and holding him inside as his cum leaked out of you, warm and messy.
you collapsed forward onto his chest, breathless, cunt still gripping his softening cock. Clark shifted, mumbling something in his sleep, arm automatically wrapping around your spent body, no idea that you had just used him.
contains: oral (m receiving), Clark Kent has a huge cock, gagging, Clark being a sweetheart even though he’s getting his cock sucked, hairy men ❤︎ add yourself to the kinktober taglist!
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✮ your lipstick was already smudged, mascara running at the corners of your eyes where the tears had welled up, the black streaks obscene in and of itself. you knelt between Clark’s knees, hair a mess, chin glistening with spit. his cock—thick, heavy, fat enough that you needed both hands just to keep it steady—loomed in front of you, veined and flushed, the head slick and swollen and drooling precum.
you dragged your tongue up the length slow, tasting the salt and heat of him. Clark groaned about you, huge hands clutching the arms of the chair he sat in, trying to ignore the urge to push his cock into your mouth before you were even ready for it.
he made a pleased groan and you smirked around the head, swirling your tongue against the slick slit before pushing down, stretching your lips wide.
he was too big for your jaw, the blunt head pressing at your throat almost immediately. you gagged a little but didn’t stop, spit pooling in your mouth and then dripping down your chin.
you pulled off of him with an obscene pop, a shiny string of saliva connecting you to him, flesh to flesh, delicate until it snapped and made a mess on your chin. you kissed the tip gently before licking up the vein that ran up the shaft. you looked up at him with watery eyes and shoved him deeper into your mouth. his cock slid down your throat, thick and unyielding, until your nose buried itself in the thatch of thick hair at the base. you breathed in the scent of him; the scent of man, of sweat and lust. you gagged harder this time, throat spasming, tears springing into your eyes. a string of saliva dripped down onto your tits.
Clark let out a strangled moan, hips jerking towards you despite himself, “ohh, god—”
your pussy clenched around nothing, soaking through your panties, clit throbbing just from the weight of him choking you. you pulled back just enough to suck noisily at the head, and then shoved him back down your throat again, gagging messily, eyes dewy in a way that was so doe-like it made Clark’s heart surge so much that the adoration for you translated to the blood rushing to his throbbing cock.
“stop, you’ll—” he started, “please, i’m- i’m gonna—”
you moaned around his cock, the vibrations wrecking him. his hips bucked and suddenly he was spilling hot down your throat, thick spurts of cum forcing you to swallow. you gagged again, messy and wet, but you held it down, swallowing every drop.
when you finally pulled off, coughing, spit and cum smeared across your chin, you licked your lips and grinned up at him with those doe eyes.
contains: sub!clark, breathplay, choking, light praise kink, playful degradation. add yourself to the kinktober taglist!
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✮ you straddled Clark’s hips, thighs tight around his waist, the weight of your body pressing him down into the mattress. he was already a mess beneath you, broad chest heaving, dark hair sticking to his damp forehead, his cock flushed an angry-red against his stomach.
you had been teasing him for what felt like hours; kissing his throat, grinding just enough against him to make him leak, letting your nails drag faint red lines across his skin. but now you wanted something else.
your palm slid up his chest, flattening over the pounding rhythm of his heart. you felt it hammering under his skin, that unsteady beat that betrayed how much he wanted this, how much he wanted you.
“Clark,” you said, tilting your head so your hair brushed his cheek, “do you trust me?”
his breath hitched, big hands curling around your hips. he nodded quickly, almost desperate, “y-yes. i do— of course.”
your smile turned slow, predatory, “good boy.”
your hand slid higher, curling under his jaw. you felt him swallow hard, felt the muscles of his throat shift under the touch. then you pressed— just lightly, testing, the curve of your hand against his windpipe. Clark’s entire body jolted. his cock twitched, a thick bead of precum leaking down his shaft. his wide blue eyes fluttered shut for a second, a low sound vibrating in his chest.
“already?” you teased, noticing the almost immediate change in his demeanour—and the slick line of precum on his skin—and you squeezed a little harder. “you’re pathetic… you get hard from everything.”
a broken, half embarrassed moan escaped him. his cock strained upwards, pulsing with each beat of his heart.
you leaned in closer, lips grazing the shell of his ear, “breathe for me baby. when i let you.”
and you tightened your grip.
not too much; just enough to press against his throat, enough to make his breath catch, enough that he had to fight for each inhale. the effect was instant. his hips bucked up against you, cock sliding hot and slick against your thigh as a strangled groan spilled from his mouth and you felt the vibration against your palm.
“you like that? you like it when i take the air right out of you?”
he tried to answer, but the sound barely came out. his eyes watered, his lips parting around a gasp that didn’t come.
you loosened your grip suddenly and he sucked in a desperate gulp of air, chest arching upward, cock jerking against his stomach.
and then you cut it off again.
Clark’s moan this time was absolutely wrecked, high pitched for a man his size, almost a sob, something you would have found laughable if you weren’t so entranced by the beautiful blush that had spread across his cheeks since the start of this all. his thighs trembled under you, his hands holding onto your naked hips so hard it was sure to leave a mark by morning. spit slicked his lips, his face flushed.
you moved your body up and rocked your hips deliberately against him, dragging your cunt over the thick length of his cock. wetness smeared down his shaft, mixing with the endless leak of precum from his swollen tip.
“messy boy,” you murmured, grip steady on his throat, “can’t even breathe without leaking all over yourself.”
his cock was throbbing violently now, every vein standing out, precum spilling down to his balls. his stomach clenched, his body fighting between panic and pure, dizzying arousal.
“cum for me,” you ordered, pressing down harder, nails biting into his skin, “cum while i choke you baby, show me how filthy you are.”
his body convulsed beneath you as the words hit him, hips jerking up uncontrollably. with a broken, strangled sound, he came, thick and hot and all across his abs. pulse after pulse, he kept spilling, body arching helplessly against you as you held him right on the edge of breathlessness. finally, when his eyes had gone glassy and tears clung to his lashes, you let go. he gasped hard, sucking in air like he’d been drowning, his entire body shuddering from relief.
you stroked his cheek, “good boy, you did so good for me.”
Clark could only nod weakly, cum already drying on his sweaty body, cock still twitching and tears bright in his eyes.
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖𓉸ִֶָྀི ִֶָ་༘࿐all works include Clark Kent x reader! each work in this collection is 18+ and may contain dark elements. add yourself to the kinktober taglist!
how do you feel about an overstimulation fic? maybe some multiple orgasms thrown in there and Clark is just begginggg… your sub Clark is sooo hot - love your stuff xxxx
A thought I have for Clark is that he gets caught touching himself by reader even though she told him not to and decides to punish him by tying him up in bondage and using a vibrating dildo on him to overstimulate him 😋
yes!! here it is! it’s been tweaked a little but it still has elements of your request xoxo
