Summary: Clark comes home stressed from work and just wants to be with his girl.
Warning: 18+; Clark (yes he is a warning), pure filth actually, P in V, pussy play, nipple play and kissing. Minors will be blocked!!!.
AN: Ok, this is my first ever fic, it’s not that long, sorry. Please be kind. Also, english is not my first language so if there’s any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them. No AI!!
enjoy!!
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“pretty girl..” Clark says while you kiss his neck and jaw. He runs his fingers up your spine and smiles. Those dimples melt you completely. He grabs your hips and presses you harder against him. “…I missed you so much today, so much, it was almost unbearable..”
He fixes his glasses on his nose and kisses your shoulder. He would like nothing more than to take his glasses off and move things up to the bedroom, but you don’t know yet that he is Superman. To you he is just your cute coworker who you have been sneaking around with. And also the boy who stole your entire heart by the first date.
“…baby” He says while sliding a hand inside your skirt and pulling your panties out. “look so pretty” The hand returns to circle your needy clit. He kisses your collarbone and softly bites it too.
He smiles more when he looks at you and finds your pretty face contorted with pleasure. He moves his other hand to pull your top strap off.
“wanna see you..” He says while kissing your cheeks softly. His eyes are hazy and your cheeks start to burn as you look at him. You help him remove your top and immediately feel a shiver up your spine. He takes a couple of seconds to just stare at your chest, absolutely hypnotised by you.
“Clark..” You say his name softly, shyly, already feeling the loss of his fingers moving around your needy heat. “…you’re staring.”
He looks at you throughly, and Clark can see the vulnerability in your shy look. He cups your face with his both hands and then moves one down to press against your neck. "Of course I'm staring, pretty" He says while his eyes scan over your body. "I feel like the luckiest guy alive."
He moves his body closer and pushes his knee between your legs. Your breath hitches, letting out a sigh, involuntarily. He smirks at that sound, pressing his knee just a little harder between your thighs as he leans in to murmur against your lips.
“That’s it… let me hear you,” he says, nipping lightly at your bottom lip before kissing you properly, deep and slow. His free hand slides up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Every little noise you make- Oh, I live for it.” His voice is rough, affectionate, and just a little bit smug, because he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
He removes your skirt off and pulls your hips closer to him, allowing you to feel his own arousal. You whine softly and he smirks smugly, running his fingers up your spine with one hand while the other grips your waist.
That smirk you see on his face is deadly. And Clark's eyes darken with desire when you whine out. He loves the effects that he has on you. He loves that he's able to bring out the side of you that you keep hidden from the rest of the world. The soft, needy, and vulnerable side you only show him.
"You have no idea how bad I want you," Clark whispers, fingers tracing the curve of your body. He leans forward, his lips barely grazing your ear. "How crazy you drive me."
You roll your hips and smile too. “I might have some idea…”
His dimples show in a sweet smile, breath hitching at the roll of your hips. Clark lets out a low groan then, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s fighting the urge to pin you down right then and there. That smile of yours? Absolutely lethal to him.
"Oh, you think you do?," he murmurs, lips dragging along your jaw before catching your earlobe between his teeth, teasing. "But I promise, you haven’t even seen half of what you do to me yet." His hand slips lower, fingertips tracing the waistband of what little is left of your underwear. "Should I show you?"
“Please…” you whisper breathlessly to him.
The way you say that one word, soft, breathy, begging, sends a shudder down his spine. Clark doesn’t hesitate. Then his hands are on you again, pulling you flush against him as he nips at your neck.
“The way you say that…” He groans, sliding a finger between your folds, already feeling how wet you are for him. “Like you know I can’t resist you.” A second finger joins the first, slipping inside and curling just right. His lips find yours in a kiss that’s equal parts hunger and worship.
“Clark, please..” you whine softly into his neck.
The way you say his name, pleading, desperate for more, sends a jolt straight to his gut. He curses, his eyes dark with desire as his fingers pick up the pace, stroking, teasing. That smirk is gone now, replaced by lips parted, breath heavy, eyes locked on yours in a stare so intense it would make a lesser man crumble.
"Anything."
He growls it, a promise and a plea and a warning all rolled into one. "Say the word, love, and it's yours."
“Need you.” You say in a whisper. Running your nose up his neck and kissing his jaw.
The moment those three words leave your mouth, something within him snaps. In one swift motion, he lifts you up, effortlessly, carrying you in his arms as if you weigh nothing to him. He walks across the apartment quickly, each step purposeful and filled with urgency. When he reaches the bedroom, he kicks the door open and lowers you down on the bed, his body covering you instantly, pinning you underneath him. The look in his eyes say it all, his voice is low, possessive.
"Say it again, please. Say you need me."
“Need you, Clarkie.” The nickname, the one only you get to call him, sends a visible shiver through him. His jaw tightens, his fingers digging into your hips just a little harder as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath is ragged, his voice wrecked already.
He exhales sharply, like he’s barely holding on, and then says "Then take me. Take what’s yours." And with that, he’s finally giving you exactly what you asked for. He unbuckles his belt, lowering his pants just enough to swiftly pull his member out, languid and pink, already aching for you.
His eyes have never left yours, his expression one of pure adoration, mixed with a need so primal it makes your head spin.
"I want…" He groans, leaning down to kiss your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he can reach. "…need to feel how…perfect you are. Need you to know how crazy I am for you. I just need more of you, all of you, please, please." He nips at your ear. "Please, pretty girl, will you let me?"
“Yes!” And with your breathless exclamation, all restraint disappears. He captures your mouth in a kiss that steals away any lingering sense of thought. His body presses against yours, his chest against your breasts, his hips grinding down, needing that contact, that friction. He gasps into your mouth, his hand sliding up your thigh as he speaks, words spoken between desperate kisses.
"I need you. Need you so much. Need to be with you. Need to feel all of you.”
You nod eagerly and he aligned himself with your entrance. He kisses your head and thrusts slowly, making your toes curl and your back arch.
Clark moans deeply as he sinks into you, the sensation so overwhelming that for a moment, he just stops, forehead pressed to yours, lips trembling with the effort to keep control. His breath comes in ragged bursts, his fingers tightening around your hip, gently, always gently, but with enough pressure to ground himself in you.
“Golly-” he chokes out, voice wrecked. “You feel…incredible.” His hips roll, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch, every gasp you give him. His other hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your bottom lip as he whispers, “Look at me, please. I wanna see you.”
You force yourself to open your eyes and look at him. And when you do, lord, you can barely keep your heart from leaping through your throat. He looks wrecked and breathless.
The moment your eyes meet his, something shifts, his expression cracks open, raw and unfiltered, like he’s letting you see everything. His lips part, breath shaky, pupils blown wide. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing in the universe, like he’s drowning in you and never wants to come up for air, it steals the breath from your lungs.
“You,” he rasps, hips rocking deeper, slower, as if he’s memorizing the way your body takes him. “Goodness, look at you. I- I can’t…” His voice breaks, fingers trembling where they cradle your face.
“Never letting you go. Never.” And then he’s kissing you again, messy and desperate, like the words aren’t enough, like he needs to brand them into your skin.
He picks up his pace, marking your neck as if it was his only form of salvation. “Oh, Clarkie!” you moan as he grabs a hold of your legs to deepen his reach.
Again, the effect of the name makes him falter for a second and then speed up, getting lost in your warmth and skin. The way your bodies communicate is otherworldly to him, and for a kansas boy that came from another planet, that spoke volumes.
He felt so much love for you that his heart ached.
“My pretty girl” he whispers and keeps thrusting. One of his hands slip up to fondle your breast, taking the air out of your lungs. You sigh and roll your hips to chase after his.
He pinches your nipples and bites down your shoulder. “So pretty” he murmurs against your skin.
“My Clarkie…” You can’t stop looking at him and smile when his glasses fogged up because of your skin. “…so strong..” your hands run up his biceps.
He lowers his head to your chest and kisses your chest, running his mouth down to mouth at your breast. He licks your nipples and then sucks, making your nails dig into his bicep, leaving moon crest indentations on his skin.
His thrusts are getting sloppy, he’s close to his high and you can feel him twitch inside you. You’re not far behind. His tongue leaves your mind in hazy and your skin shiver.
Clark notices. Of course he does. He takes one hand down where your bodies meet, rubbing your puffy clit to push you down the edge. “Come on, gorgeous. Come for me…”
And that’s what it takes for you to reach that delicious high, his sultry, velvety, deep voice.
“Well…we are watching a guy who is going to kill himself today. Robby is going to kill himself today. Most likely. He’s going to leave and not come back. And as that reality gets increasingly clear to him, he acts continually beneath his grace. He doesn’t necessarily want people to miss him. He doesn’t necessarily want people to over idealize him because he doesn’t want them to mythologize him.
So, some people he was really tender with and some people he was really harsh with and some people he will carry regret with and some people he probably wishes he had gone further.
But all of that pathology was on display as a cry for help for anybody who was really looking to see it. More than I felt it was indicative of how he felt in a normal frame of mind in those relationships.
He pushed Abbot so far away. He pushed Dana so far away. He was overly harsh with Mohan. He was almost paternal with Javadi. He had a different vibe and energy with everybody. But ultimately it was to say goodbye.
I’m glad people felt [Robbys behavior] wasn’t appropriate because it was a man setting fire [to his life].”
i actually think these two would have the biggest chance against doom bc no matter how many times he kills them they're gonna just keep coming back. they can annoy him to death
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