roni ⋆ 20 ⋆ multifandom ⋆ dead dove, do not eat!!
just here to write fanfiction for the perverted girls
sorta kinda the ceo of pathetic men and femdom fics
requests ➛ open!
sheepfilms
DEAR READER
hello vonnie
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
art blog(derogatory)
No title available

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

#extradirty
styofa doing anything
Sade Olutola
dirt enthusiast

JBB: An Artblog!

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

tannertan36
todays bird
cherry valley forever
noise dept.

izzy's playlists!

ellievsbear
🪼

seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany

seen from Panama

seen from Lithuania

seen from Germany

seen from Germany

seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye

seen from Germany
seen from Canada

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Colombia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany

seen from Romania
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
@r0ttenapplecores
roni ⋆ 20 ⋆ multifandom ⋆ dead dove, do not eat!!
just here to write fanfiction for the perverted girls
sorta kinda the ceo of pathetic men and femdom fics
requests ➛ open!
i hate the word spicy can we bring back calling things erotic
can u guys hear me ? can u hear me and or see me ?
hi... long time no see. schooling got insane, but hello, summer is here- pervert summer.
no shame | clark kent x reader p.3
18+, no minors pls n thx
co-worker!clark, perv!clark, femdom!reader || multi chapter fic, so if u haven't go read p. 1-2
cw⋆ light smut (ik finally), m masturbation, guided masturbation if u squint, dom!reader, sub!clark,
the droll sound of copy machines and the beeps and rings of phones was humming in your ears, and you were all too aware of it. clark hadn't made a move, not one. it was so pathetic that even jimmy stopped teasing him about it, halting all useless jabs at how much of a pussy clark was, because now it was too real. clark was a pussy, you thought. you gave him an invitation to say something--do something! and he didn't, you started to doubt if he even felt a certain way about you, maybe he was like that with everyone. maybe his dimple popped through flushed cheeks, and maybe he stammered all over his words, and maybe just maybe, he did this with every girl. you spent too many nights mulling over the idea of clark being a virgin. was he? he fucking acted like it. you had never been the type of girl who wanted some super experienced guy to come and tell you what to do, you liked the aspect of having to guide, having to initiate but he had to give you something--anything. and clark? he had given you flustered grins and muttered sweet compliments. but you knew, deep down, no matter how much you over thought this, that he had to feel something for you. you knew clark well enough to know that he speaks without a stammer when he talks to cat, or lois, or every other woman in the daily planet. so it was you, and the ball had been in his court for way too fucking long. let's call it a foul, my ball, you thought.
clark was across the building typing away, writing some article about superman again, and you watched him through the clean glass of the copy room. cat watched you watch him. "stare any longer you'll burn a hole through that glass." she muttered as she sorted through her own stack of papers. you scoff, scrunching up your face. "i'm not staring." you defend yourself and cat hums, pleased with your answer. "honey, he clearly has a thing for you, but guys like clark? that shy, goofy type? they aren't gonna make a move on you. he's waiting for the go ahead like the good little boy he is. mama raised him right and all that jazz, you have to show him that you want him." and with that, cat struts out of the copy room.
she was right. you knew she was. he had waited with bated breath on your every word, he was waiting for the command. and if there was one thing you could give, it was a god damn command.
that night, after everyone fled their cubicles, and went on their merry ways home--you stopped by clark's cubicle. he was hunched over his desk typing quickly, eyes blinking slowly behind his wide framed glasses. he barely noticed you. "clark." you clear your throat and his mouth goes dry. your voice, he hadn't heard this up close in weeks. he felt humiliated after that party for perry, the way you got under his skin. he didn't want--no, he couldn't make a habit of touching himself on the rooftop of his place of employment and he decided he had stronger willpower than that...as long as he kept a safe distance from you. so he tried. and it had worked for nearly two weeks, but here you were, ready to confront him for all he knows. clark's eyes whip to yours. your name falls from his lips loosely and he his brows knit together. "do you need help with anything?" he asks gently. he was nervous, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and you shake your head. you walk closer, sitting down on his desk, his eyes flit to your knees, and back to your face. "can i ask you something, clark?" your voice is smooth, slow and controlled. it was making his heart race. he rolled his lips into his mouth, dimple popping as he did. "of course," he mutters.
you nod, "over a month ago, i gave you my expose on arkham, you remember that, don't you?" your voice is low, slow like honey. and it feels all too similar to his very fantasy that night. the night you walked in on him kneading himself through his gray slacks. clark's face flushes, his lips parting slightly. this could go, so, so, so badly. he nods childishly, absentmindedly as his mind races to come up with an excuse. "i came by your office, and--" before the words can even leave your mouth clark is standing, his hands cupping his mouth as he breathes out. he looks on the verge of a panic attack. "i can't express how-- just how humiliated, and disappointed--utterly disgusted i am with myself--" he begins his rambling as he looks down at you. his eyes are sincere, and full, a dark navy blue in the dim lights of the city seeping in through the office windows. you reach up and clasp his wrists, pulling them down from his face. he nearly whimpers at the contact. "how long have you been touching yourself while thinking about me?" the question is abrasive to his ears, and his body rejects it. his pulse hammering against your thumb on the underbelly of his soft wrists. he swallows thickly. "i-is that a serious question?" his eyes bounce around your face. "do you want me to guess?" your head tilts as you look up at him.
he looks helpless. you almost feel bad. almost. clark's brows knit together, shaking his head softly. he wants to curl up into a ball and die. yet a very large part of him, the part that rests between his thighs, is feeling the opposite. he looks like kicked puppy when your eyes follow his fleeting gaze to his black slacks. you cock a brow. "you're getting off on this?" your voice washes over him and it does not help his situation, you give him a playful shove into his seat, where he spreads out, almost too big for the office chair. his thighs strain against the fabric of the slacks, and his cock grinds against the seam. he lets out a pained sigh. you take a moment raking your eyes over him. "go on then," you mutter and he furrows his brows. "wh-what?" his voice is soft, shaky. "you want it so bad, take it." you whisper and his lips part. "don't be a little pussy, make yourself cum. right here, show me." your words are so callous, but the way you say them, the way his cheeks flush, you'd think you sugar talking him.
he didn't feel real. his hands felt like they were on the brink of going numb as he digested your words. he stills. you scoff, "do i need to do everything for you?" your words have a bite to them. you were used to being mean when it came to sex, it got you off. you could only assume it got clark off too, with the way there was a small wet spot forming on the inseam of his slacks. a soft whimper as his fists clench nervously before they move towards his belt buckle. he undid it slowly, unzipping his pants as his eyes stayed glued to you; like if he looked away, he'd be left in the room with just him and his hand again. you could ignore the throbbing between your thighs for now, but he palmed himself over the slacks, his face pinching up as a soft whine left his lips? your thighs clenched, and he saw it. he smirked to himself. cocky son of a bitch. his palm grinds down against his cock one more time before he tugs his slacks down just enough. he looks at you, waiting for approval. waiting for his command. your bottom lips curls up in between your teeth and he takes it. pulling his cock out, the swollen pink tip leaking pre cum as he graciously rubs his thumb over himself.
a throaty sigh for him as his hips buck. he had pictured cumming all over those tights of yours; it had been a recurring theme in his fantasies. the idea of you never being able to get him all the way off of you. his lips parted as he wrapped his hand around his cock, squeezing at the base before he starts stroking himself and your lips parted at the sound that left his mouth. a cry, a sort of erotic sob. he is a mess, and his tip was leaking all down his hand. "please," clark whines. "p-please," he repeats as he strokes. "please what?" you hum. his eyes knit shut. "touch me?" he is begging now, not by his words, but with his tone. his throaty whines and panted sighs. "i can't- it's not gonna be enough for me," he rushes out as he whimpers. "you think you've earned my touch? through what?" you tease in a low whisper, "think you fucked your hand enough times that now you've won mine?" you taunt, and as you do his hips begin to buck, meeting his every stroke. he shakes his head, "i don't- i don't deserve it. i just--" he's moaning now, pathetically like its his first time touching himself. "want it? want me? you think because you've suffered, played this little game in silence that you've worked hard? you think you deserve it after all you've been through, huh?" you fake pout, "poor baby, it must be so hard feeling your own hand against your cock, what do you picture?" you take a step closer now. "is it my hand?" another step, your hand falling on the back of his chair, leaning over him. "is it my mouth?" your voice is slow as your breath hits his ear, and he whines like a little bitch underneath you. his breathing shaky and erratic, whimpering. "is it my cunt?" you whisper, your fingers dragging up the back of his neck and into his hair. you tug. roughly. his head flies back and looks at you. "you're gonna have to be a very good boy for me if you ever want me to touch you. you think you can do that for me, clark?"
and without a doubt, without a second to contemplate the consequences. he nods, flushed cheeks, as he pants. "yes, i can, i can do that. i'll be that, i can be a good boy."
Roni, my love, did you die? Should I light candles and pull out a spirit board?
I don't wanna sound pushy, but I'm impatiently patiently waiting for p.3 of pervy!clark or really any post, and I fear I may die without a sign of life from you.
(If something happened, I don't need an explanation. That's ur business and none of mine. I just miss u babe!!)
oh my sweetssss, I HAD FINALS WEEK !! so so so sorry for dipping, i am clocking back in for my pervy freaks. i luv u guys
“Babe, could you turn your hair off for the night?”
babiiesssss
will be working on some drabbles this week, if you wanna see ur ask done this week make sure to give it to me by fridayyy, i do most of my writing on weekends andddd i will be working on perv!clark pt.3 and it should be uploaded sometime this week :p heart u guys
reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts
Jason Todd - Robin II - The Cautionary Tale
oh end my suffering
surprised I haven’t written a threesome yet, u guys aren’t even aware of my threesome obsession
For future reference, when you get to the actual smut part of the pervy!clark fic, just know that I have so many ideas. (I am fucking insane btw. You have been forewarned.)
(This is just a baseline/ideas. Take what you want and scrap the rest, idc. Ily marry me 💍)
FIRST: Reader has experience. Past relationships, shady background, whatever. I don't care. All that matters is that Reader can dom, and they know what they're fucking doing. I've seen too many fics with softdom!reader or falsely advertised dom reader and I'm TIRED OF IT. BEING MEAN IS ENCOURAGED IN THIS HOUSE!!
SECOND: DENIAL NEEDS TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND. He wants to touch? No. He wants to taste? No. He wants to cum? NO. HE GETS NOTHING. He sits there, he watches, and he whines. Let him suffer and think about what he's done.
THIRD: Oral (m receiving) is GREAT. Push him to the edge and see how long (or how many rounds) it takes him to break. (p.s. do not, under any circumstances, let that man inside. this is a house of punishment, not a house of p in v. do I make myself clear?)
FOURTH: Dacryphilia is HIGHLY ENCOURAGED. If this man isn't crying red hot tears because he genuinely can't take it anymore, you haven't done it right.
FIFTH: Bondage is also highly encouraged. His brain will be too fuzzy to even think about tearing his favorite tie, so PLEASE tie this man up.
genuinely think we might be the same person. i hate hate hate when a fic says dom reader and it’s literally just like… bossy at most. when i say dom, i mean DOM!! and i hear you loud and clear on the orgasm denial. also.. thoughts on lowkey inexperienced clark…? walk with me here… ive already hinted at it with the line of him discovering things about himself…
no shame | clark kent x reader pt. 2 <3
18+, no minors pls n thx
co-worker!clark, perv!clark, femdom!reader
cw⋆ public masturbation if you squint... mostly angst, yes i am edging you guys
it had been weeks since he last talked to you, and he was missing you like a bitch. you were waltzing around the office in short skirts, fucking thigh highs and to his complete embarrassment, his trip to the bathroom to work himself out that night had become routine. he felt guilty, sure, but not guilty enough to stop. it sort of freaked him out how badly he lacked control around himself when it came to you. you were eyeing him too, but he wasn't sure if that was fantasy or not. his reality was blending with his fantasies it felt like. he'd be imagining you on your knees under his desk and you'd appear, eyes filled with amusement like you could read his goddamned mind, and his cheeks would flush so deeply that they felt hot to the touch.
tonight was perry's twenty fifth anniversary at the daily planet, jimmy and cat were throwing a get together at the office. jimmy described it as "supa casj", which to clark meant jeans, an old pop-punk tee shirt, and a flannel but when he walked into the office and saw everyone dressed up, he felt his cheeks redden, he was completely flustered with the idea of being the sore thumb of the night. a hand slid over his shoulders before your bright face smiled up at him. "you've never looked better, smallville." you laughed softly, his cheeks deepened in color. your hand was warm and lingering on his upper arm. christ, he could feel the flood of excitement in his belly as you smiled at him. "jimmy told me it was casual." clark laughed awkwardly, grimacing. "guess i didn't get that memo." you laugh as you glance down at your black dress and heels. the dress hugged you in all the right places, cupping your waist. it was a little risky, the hem fell about four inches above the knee, but your friend told you it was just enough to get clark to say something. it had been weeks since you saw him late that night in the office. you couldn't get it out of your head and you would be a fucking liar if you said you hadn't thought about him with your hand between your thighs. the feeling of his tricep under your palm was enough to take your mind back to a very, very dirty place. christ, you felt like a pervert. you wondered if he thought about you that way. but that was crazy, wasn't it? why would your coworker think of you like that? not everyone was as touch deprived as you, you shamed yourself as clark's eyes flitted to your neck, down your sternum and down to your heels. his mouth went dry. you were torturing him, he just knew it, torturing him for being a damn pervert.
"i think jimmy is messing with me." clark confesses, "embarrassing me in front of the pretty girl." he murmurs and you fight off a smile. "he's not doing the best job at that, what girl doesn't swoon over the farm boy charm?" you grin softly at him and his cheeks get all pink like he's been pinched. "farm boy charm?" he laughs like a kid, his head falling back slightly as he giggles. god, you just wanted to grab his face and kiss him. you were watching him laugh so innocently in such a lustful way. his laugh bubbles up and fades out as you smile. "yeah, this flannel?" you kiss your teeth, "i mean come. on." you laugh. clark's lips quirk up into a bashful grin. before he can respond, jimmy comes up next to you, his warm arm sliding around your waist comfortable. clark's eyes avert to the floor. jimmy whispers to you, "do you think jealousy is enough to make him bust a move?" your nose scrunches as you lean in to whisper back. "you're an asshole." you smile as you pull away. "i need to find cat." you excuse yourself as you push past clark, your hip nudging his. his eyes following your figure, the sway of your hips and the clicking of your heels.
jimmy's fist lays a punch into his shoulder. "bust a move." jimmy gruffs before clark whips his head to him. "what?" he awkwardly shrieks. "bust a move? like the 80s song?" jimmy gawks at clark. "i know. like the song." clark mutters, his head fighting the urge to turn back to catch another glance of you. "bust a move, kent. or i will." jimmy mutters. "she's hot. and incredibly smart." jimmy adds. clark glares down at him. "go back to your dating apps." clark gripes. jimmy grins. "so you like her?" he giggles. clark rolls his eyes, "don't you have hobbies?" jimmy barks a laugh. "oh, kent, you've got it bad." jimmy pats clark's shoulder while clark scoffs. "shut up.'' he mutters as he pushes past jimmy, making his way to where he saw your body last.
clark was like a dog following his owners scent, and his instincts told him that you would be up on the rooftop. he opened the door quietly, coming out into the brisk winter wind. just like he knew you would be, he sees you over by the edge. you were smoking, which shocked him a little. he wasn't expecting that, but quickly as he walked closer he realized he couldn't just admit he was looking for you because quite frankly, he had nothing to say to you--he just wanted to be around you. it was like being intoxicated. your head whipped to his direction, smiling widely. "smallville." you cooed before taking another drag from the cigarette. you eyed him slowly. his blue jeans were tight on his thighs, but loose fitting everywhere else, the punk band shirt was riding up on his hips--too small, must be from high school, you thought--and the flannel was rolled up to his elbows. slut, you teased him mentally. to your surprise, his head nodded towards your cigarette, "can i?" he asks softly, his big blue eyes gazing at you gently as he gets closer. you nod abruptly, holding the cigarette out for him. his rough fingers brush against yours. his hands were rough and calloused, taking you by surprise. clark brought the cigarette up to his lips, wrapping his lips around the white end--previously stained from your lipstick. he inhales deeply, your eyes soaking him up. his hands, god, his hands. you wanted them all over you and you knew your face said it all--but luckily, clark was so oblivious he couldn't see what everyone else saw.
clark took a drag, coughing as he hands it back to you. "you alright?" you tease, grinning softly as you grab the cigarette back. he nods as he coughs. "mhm, just- never done that before." he laughs awkwardly and you widen your eyes. "what?!" you laugh, "you've never smoked before?" you ask softly and he shakes his head, still clearing his throat. "i wouldn't have pegged you as a smoker." he huffs. "i only smoke when i'm drinking." you murmur, tilting your head as you look at him. clark nods softly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. you fight off a smile. "i feel sort of guilty," you murmur, taking a drag. as you do, his eyes shamelessly watch as you wrap your lips around the end of the cigarette. it felt so erotic, so intimate that he felt like he should look away--the way your eyes drilled into his. "f-for what?" he asks softly. "corrupting you." you tease, referencing the cigarette and he fought off a smile. you have no idea, he thought. if only you knew just how true that statement was. how you had corrupted his entire mind--his body. "i'm sure you'll live." he mutters, wiping his mouth. his mouth tasted like tobacco, and he couldn't help but wonder what drink you've been sipping on--how it would taste mixed with the tobacco. "i can live with guilt." you murmur, taking a long drag and clark nods as he watches. "good." he whispers softly with a grin. "can you?" you murmur, and his thick brows furrow. before you can tease him any further, your drunken mind nearly bringing up that late night in the office, cat busts the rooftop door open. "girl! i've been looking for you." she calls out, and you slip off of the edge, handing the cigarette to clark. "i'll see you later?" you murmur and he nods frantically. "yeah, uh, yeah." he huffs as you smile up at him. cat interlocks you guys' arms, telling you about how expensive the tab is growing and she promised to cover 25%, asking if you could chip in to cover 10% if jimmy does 15%.
clark smiles to himself as he hears the conversation, facing towards the city lights, the cigarette burning in between his fingers as he hears the door slam. he brings it up to his lips once more, inhaling deeply. he smokes the cigarette down to the butt, thinking about your lips. your hands. the way your voice dropped an octave as you teased him. god, he was already feeling worked up just seeing you in that dress, and now? you taunt him like some siren to an old sailor. he was weak and powerless against you. his head glanced back towards the door. he slips the cigarette butt with your stained lip print into his back pocket before undoing his belt, slipping his hand into his pants as he sighs softly. christ, what was he doing? he couldn't think straight, not around you, not even in the same vicinity as you. he was whimpering before he knew it, whining like a little bitch for you to touch him. he felt pathetic and that only egged him on. when he came in his pants for--humiliatingly--not the first time since meeting you, as he came down from his frantic high, he cursed himself before making a getaway down the fire escape. a walk of shame the whole way back to his place, his flannel balled up and hiding his humiliation.
idc idc idc i love whipped clark
Have you seen the show The Pitt? I fucking am obsessed with it
literally binge watched it in one night. mcvadi truther, and hucklerobby enthusiast idgafff !!
Mullet Wally has me in a CHOKEHOLD
over the moon that you guys enjoyed pt 1 of the clark fic cause i was worried his perviness would not land… i should’ve trusted my weird little family
FIRST VIDEO in 3-4 years. I used to post on yt as a gachatuber. Anyways, hello people!
Audio from Legends of Avantris
NASTY SMUT IS THE BEST ISTG I MEAN GAWD DAYUM
sorry. not sure what just happened there... *ahem* ANYWAY I have a request dear.
Reader works at the Daily planet and typical coworker crush bullshit yada yada except Clark is a fucking perv and just can't keep his hands off himself no matter how hard he tries. It's gotten so bad that he can't even go a full day without thinking about reader that way and he has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom before he ruins another pair of boxers (calming down and jerking off are basically the same thing, right?).
Reader finds out at some point (Clark, the big dumb man that he is, doesn't notice) and oh god they're just so mean to him. It starts off small. Shorter skirts, more attention than usual (which only makes the fantasies he has in bed more vivid and the flush on his face deeper), before oops! it slips that they know and he begs and pleads for forgiveness, but it's already happened and there's really no saving him. Especially when he's making such pretty noises and he's got his tie being used as makeshift handcuffs to keep him from touching while Reader makes him watch them touch themselves and god he already said he was sorry so why can't he cum yet??
If you can't tell I absolutely LOVE humiliation and think when done properly it can be absolutely FILTHY (I have full faith in you). also idk if you do like, full sized fics or if they're more like drabbles but if you wanna try writing a full sized fic I would LOVE to be the sacrifice (I gave you a lot, but in my defense... uh... 👀)
hiyaaa, never done a full sized fic before but lowkey down for the challenge with this one.
no shame | clark kent x reader
18+, no minors pls n thx
co-worker!clark, perv!clark, femdom!reader || multi chapter fic, so stay tuned my friends xx
you had started at the daily planet two months ago. you were accquainted with everyone now, even invited out for drinks with jimmy and cat sometimes. you loved it there, it gave you more creative freedom than most journals in the city and, what you loved even more than freedom to write about however you wanted was your co-worker clark. clark kent. he was like a giant but with the mentality of a puppy dog. by the second day of work he had you thinking about him while brushing your teeth every morning, his dumb laugh and lopsided smile--you were doomed. utterly and completely. clark had noticed you too, and you weren't exactly oblivious to that fact. he watched you a lot. not in a creepy way, more of admiring way, but he was too chicken to ever talk to you. he talked to everyone else, even went out for dinner with jimmy and lois sometimes, well you'd only heard of it from lois cause he never seems to come along when you've got nowhere else to be.
in meetings, you'd ask him his thoughts on your essays. he would nod, hold his chin like he is thinking before holding a thumbs up. it was all so anti-climatic. so today, you came in dressed in your usual knee length dress, black flats and your hair up. makeup done, a soft blush on your cheeks, and you damn near sprayed the whole bottle of expensive perfume you got last christmas from your grandmother. "kent," you huffed as you rounded the corner into his cubicle-- it was spaced off from jimmy's and as you stepped into it, everything felt smaller around him. His knees touched the underside of the wooden desk, and as he turned around, oblivious to who might've said his name, you notice just how big he is. christ, he barely fit into the chair, and he had to hunch over to write his articles. you had your printed off essay in your hand--it was about Arkham Asylum, a nasty fortress in some cursed city called Gotham, you had stumbled upon it during a deep dive of Top 10 Worst Psych Wards and Prisons, you wanted to know if it was too out there for an expose piece. clark cleared his throat the minute he saw you, raising his brows instead of speaking. you stared expectantly, waiting for him to mutter something... anything. "i want you to read this before i hand it in to perry." you explain, and the rolled up paper in your hand is left hovering for an uncomfortable amount of time before clark grabs it. "uh," he clears his throat. "yeah. yes. will do. yes ma'am." he laughs awkwardly, boyish as he flips through the pages in front of you. he slips it on his desk and looks up at you. you fight off a smile at his utterly awkward and nerdy response and you nod your head. "good, thanks. i'll come find you after five so we can go over it?" you throw the idea out there and clark's face, which has been progressively growing darker in shades of red and pink, is now full on flustered. you weren't the type of person to claim to be overly beautiful or sexy in anyway, but god did he make you feel on top of the moon. he could barely utter words in front of you. he tosses up a thumbs up just like he does in every morning meeting and you shoot one back before smiling, "see ya later then, kent."
clark wasn't even sure why or how you had this effect on him, it was like whenever you came around he was a teenage boy who couldn't help himself. everything about you was intoxicating, which was why he avoided you as much as possible--it made him feel like a pervert. the way he couldn't take his eyes off of your neck, your legs, your arms, your hands--everything about you. the second you stepped away from his cubicle he felt embarrassment, will do? yes ma'am? he sounded like his dad. he shook his head of curls, face palming as he groaned to himself. his eyes leapt to the paper. Arkham Asylum, Gotham, NJ. great. he took a deep breath before tugging the paper towards him, he read the pages before jimmy came in to offer some commentary on his dating life. "that girl from hinge totally ghosted me. which, i mean, not the end of the world, she had this crooked tooth that sorta jutted out and when she would laugh it was all i could see." jimmy rambled and clark glared at him through his thick framed glasses. jimmy's smile dropped, "what?" he scoffs. "you are nitpicking at these beautiful women for no reason, jimmy, sorry if that's not what i wanna hear while i drink my coffee." clark huffs as he grabs his daily planet mug. jimmy squints, "you and i both know what's in that mug, clark, and it rhymes with shot schmocolate." jimmy gripes before rolling his eyes on his way out of clark's cubicle. "it is coffee, jimmy! what you're smelling is the mocha creamer!" clark stands up as he calls out to jimmy, jimmy doesn't even turn around as clark pokes his head out of the cubicle. "offered at the coffee bar! i can't be the only one who uses it!" clark calls to jimmy once again, yet jimmy only smirks to himself.
as jimmy spins into your cubicle, you glance up from your computer. "hey," you murmur as he drags the chair from cat's empty desk into your cubicle. "why did you give clark your Arkham piece?" jimmy murmurs as he spins the chair around, straddling the chair. you flush slightly. "just wanted some fresh eyes." you murmur back and jimmy scoots his chair closer. "clark doesn't do expose's... lois does and i do." he tilts his head to the side, catching your eyes faltering from your keyboard. "clark interviews superman." you look at jimmy as you say it and his face contorts into a confused expression. "Arkham is this asylum--" jimmy holds his hand up as you begin to talk. "in gotham, i know. it's sort of infamous for being like.. evil." you nod your head slowly. "right, and that is where the batman takes everyone he arrests." you poorly explain a false narrative to jimmy and he squints at you. "i am not seeing the correlation there." he huffs cockily and you roll your eyes. "it doesn't have to make sense to you." you remark and jimmy's brows jump. "alright, alright. damn." he laughs before standing up, dragging the chair back to cat's cubicle. "won't tell anyone about your little crush on kent." jimmy mumbles before you're swatting him away like a bee.
during lunch you catch clark's eyes on you as you fill up on coffee, and as you walk to the printer, and as you chat with jimmy, and lois, and cat, and perry. his eyes seemed to follow you throughout the office, and you could always feel it. it was like a subtle hum in the background. his eyes were wanting, and for what you had no clue, because it wasn't like made passes at you like any other guy in the office would.
after five, the place has cleared out, the light are even off as you power your laptop off and flick off your lamp. your shoes click and clack against the tiled floor as you come towards clark's office and as you peek your head in, you see his head tilted back just slightly, and his hand palming himself through his thick gray slacks. your face heats immediately, and warmth floods your lower tummy as you watch. you shouldn't. you know that. he thinks he's alone, he must have forgotten about you coming to review the paper. on his desk is your paper, it is sprawled open like he had been in the middle of reading it when he stopped. his hand was kneading at himself, soft sighs leaving his lips.
this was unusual behavior for clark, he could usually keep it in his pants until he went home but there was something about you, about today. he couldn't help the images flooding his mind as he was reading your words. the paper wasn't even sexy, it was the opposite, it was all big sociology and psychology words that he didn't fully grasp the meanings of but it didn't ward away the thoughts of you. he had this one vision of you coming into his office and telling him that you knew, knew how he was thinking about you, and just how pathetic it was that he couldn't control himself. it made his cheeks tinge with embarrassment but it only made his cock harder, and christ, he felt helpless. he was trying his best to stay quiet, he didn't know what to do. you would be here any minute, expectantly wanting a proper peer review of this paper that he can't even get through because he's so worked up. he had to go to the bathroom and sort himself out. he pushed his seat out and as he did, he saw a figure standing in the frame of his cubicle entrance. his eyes whip to the figure as his hand grabs the paper off of his desk, holding it to his lap to hide his obvious issue. your name left his lips bitterly as he saw you. "i must have forgot that we were meeting." he huffs, smiling awkwardly at you.
unsure what to say, you clear your throat. "no worries, glad i caught you before you left." you murmur, slipping into the cubicle. "i'm actually running late for something," clark retorts, and you nod your head slowly, fighting off a laugh. you never would've pegged clark as the type of guy to get off in public, but he seems full of surprises now. "oh, we can do it another time. just... before monday, alright?" you look at him sharply and he nods his head, his eyes looking at you eagerly. "see you tomorrow, clark." you whisper softly as you tap the wall of his cubicle before leaving. the second you leave clark is bright red with embarrassment, wondering how much you saw.
lmk what u guys wanna see next for themmmm, open to ideas and plot suggestionsss kiss kisssss