Masterlist
I write smut :( here's a list of my sins
I do not use AI in any of my work, writing is also on my ao3 under @ bisousvenus
Asks open :)

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Today's Document
One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosimo Galluzzi
d e v o n
KIROKAZE
sheepfilms
DEAR READER
dirt enthusiast
Peter Solarz
art blog(derogatory)
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

tannertan36
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

izzy's playlists!

Love Begins
Show & Tell
almost home
I'd rather be in outer space đž
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Australia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from T1
seen from T1
seen from United States
@starrymarie
Masterlist
I write smut :( here's a list of my sins
I do not use AI in any of my work, writing is also on my ao3 under @ bisousvenus
Asks open :)
Clark Kent đŠžđ»
1. hero's shouldn't swear: You've never heard Clark swear, until he got inside you
2. listening in: Clark overhears you masturbate and can't stop thinking about it
3. Claiming the Prize: Clark the Knight puts spoiled Princess Reader in her place
4. A beautiful thing: Clark is enamored by your beauty
5. try again: Clark really likes you using his superhero title
6. everyday superheroes: (sfw) Clark let's you interview Superman, then confesses that he is Superman
7. fat!reader headcannon
8. Yours to use: Knight!Clark becomes jealous and shows you how devoted he is to serve you
9. Sadistic!reader drabble
10. I shouldn't be telling you this: Superman finds you after being hit with an aphrodisiac
11. and I was like...huh: The Clark you knew from high school has surely grown into his looks
12. two sides of a coin: Your boyfriend has two different personalities: Clark Kent and Kal-El
Requests
1. tanning on the balcony: Clark shows you why you never have to change
2. do you want to breathe?: Clark sees if you love him more than breathing
Isla&PinkâsGalentinesCollab 2026 đ
day 1: All Mine
day 2: Huge and Kisses
day 3: broken headboard
day 5: strawberries and chocolate
day 6: Missed Reservation
day 7: Scraping teeth on their neck just to feel them shiver
day 8: I want you so badly it hurts to hold back
day 9; Lace/Lingerie
like a baroque painting. the bulge is back. Thank you again @maiamore đ€
"Why does Superman have to be so built? Why is he so large?" "Why does he have to be so huge and imposing? Doesn't that look intimidating?" Um, bitch he's just cuddly and he needs big tits to protect his gentle heart?
DAVID CORENSWET Behind the scenes of Superman (2025)
Es tan bonito que duele.
affirmation: I am capable of finishing the works of pornographic fanfiction I start writing
Superman & Lois (ft. Batman) by yashpdraws.
HELLLOOOO BEAUTIFUL
alt and ref. below cut
Thinking thoughts about Clark âjust be normalâ Kent and Lois âbe extraordinaryâ Lane in that lois is in a competitive, misogynistic, eat or be eaten world and needs to yell to even let her voice be heard to survive it while clark is an illegal immigrant who might be white-passing but Knows that the moment someone finds out heâs different, not only will he be treated differently, heâll actively be feared
+ the fact that both of them (in most universes) choose not to ignore the hate and corruption that fills the world but instead call attention to it using their respective positions in order to change it for the better and spread messages of love and peace when it would be so easy for both of them to keep their heads down
David Corenswet as Superman/Clark Kent in recent Supergirl (2026) TV spot
Superman by Darwyn Cooke
thinking of you . . .á ášłàŹ Ő
clark kent x reader
word count: 4.6k
tags: smut MDNI, 18+, sub clark kent, dom reader, new relationship, coworkers, clark is a mess, you find a toy in clark's closet, no mention of reader's appearance (but implied they have a vagina), PATHETIC CLARK KENT !!!
notes: crossposted onto my ao3! this post was inspired from a request here :D my first request oh em gee tysmmm <3 as always reblogs and comments r most appreciated ily all!!! i hope u enjoy đââïž
two months of stolen glances at work â of clarkâs fingers lingering just a second too long when handing you files, of lunch dates where clark would blush whenever your knees brushed under the table. clark had been a picture-perfect gentleman, almost to a frustrating extent. it wasnât the cute kind of frustration either, but the kind that made the air thick whenever clark cleared his throat around you, only for the tension to fizzle when he inevitably asked another annoyingly chivalrous question like if you wanted a refill on your coffee.
you half-expected him to ask permission to hold your hand by now.
it was during one of these painfully polite coffee breaks in the break room that clark managed to muster up some semblance of courage. his fingers drummed nervously against his mug as he leaned against the counter-top. âum,â he started, then stopped, adjusting his glasses with one hand while the other gripped the counter edge like it was the only thing keeping him upright. âi was wondering if â that is, if you werenât busy tonight â maybe youâd like to come over? for dinner?â his voice pitched upward towards the end, turning his question into something more akin to a plea.
you arched a brow in response, stirring your coffee with deliberate slowness. âdinner, huh? you cooking, smallville?â
clarkâs ears turned pink. âi â well, i can try? unless youâd rather have takeout? i have menus. too many menus, actually,â he rambled.
âiâd prefer you tell me what you want, clark.â you leaned just a fraction closer into clarkâs personal space.
he swallowed hard in response. âi ââ
before clark was able to get a coherent thought out, the break room door swung open and jimmy bounded in, whistling obliviously. âoh, hey guys! perryâs looking for those corruption notes by the way, clark.â
clark nodded nervously in jimmyâs direction. âoh â! iâll, uh, iâll get those to him. right now.â he fled without another word, leaving his half-finished coffee behind.
two months of this. two months of clark kent â your boyfriend, guy you were dating, something â avoiding anything remotely close to intimacy. you were getting impatient.
your knock on clarkâs door that evening had the force of someone whoâd waited exactly two months and seventeen minutes too long for this moment. inside, the sound of something clattering to the floor was followed by a muffled âcoming!â that sounded suspiciously like it was pitched three octaves higher than clarkâs normal speaking voice.
when the door swung open, clark stood before you in a button-down shirt that had clearly been ironed within an inch of its life, the faintest scent of slightly-burned garlic bread wafting behind him. his glasses were fogged, presumably from condensation during the cooking process, and his hair stuck slightly to his forehead.
âyouâre right on time,â he said, then immediately winced at how expectant he sounded. âi mean â good! that youâre here. on time. or early, or ââ he swallowed the rest of his sentence down, fingers flexing against the doorframe like he was physically trying to center himself. âuh, come in!â
from the kitchen, you heard the distinct sound of something boiling over.
clarkâs head whipped around and he bolted to the kitchen, leaving the front door swinging in his wake.
by the time you followed him, clark was already engaged in a losing battle with a pot of violently bubbling marinara. his attempts to lift the lid resulted in a spectacular eruption of red sauce that splattered across his pristine white shirt. you couldnât help but giggle.
clarkâs ears burned crimson. âgosh,â he muttered, staring down at the carnage with a sorry expression. âi â i can clean this up and change. just give me a minute ââ
ârelax,â you smiled, already moving towards the hallway. âiâll grab you something from your closet. your rooms just down here, right?â
clark made a strangled noise that mightâve been protest, but you were already pushing his bedroom door open before he could complain. the evening city light slanted through the blinds, causing visible dust particles to permeate the air as you rummaged through clarkâs closet for a shirt. in the midst of your search, your fingers brushed against something that was decidedly not fabric. it was smooth, slightly yielding, and tucked behind a stack of neatly folded sweaters. maybe a camera lens? a bottle of something strong that clark didnât want you to see? curious, you pulled it out, blinking at the object in your hands.
it was unmistakable; clear silicone wrapped in a plastic casing with a particularly lewd-shaped opening. you couldnât help but scoff in amusement. clark kent, the boy who was often too scared to even touch you, owned a fleshlight.
from the kitchen, the frantic clatter of pots and pans had ceased. a beat of silence passed before clarkâs voice, strained with panic, called out, âuh, did you find something? anything? because i, uh, really need to organize the closet. itâs probably hard to find anything in there at all ââ
clark appeared in the doorway, sauce-stained shirt half-unbuttoned in his haste. his gaze locked to the item in your hands, and his entire body went rigid.
âthat,â he squeaked, âis â thatâs not â jimmy gave it to me! as a joke! a very unfunny, inappropriate joke that i was going to throw out, i swear ââ
you tilted your head, running a thumb along the smooth silicone. âjimmy, huh?â
clarkâs hands flapped uselessly at his sides. âyes! absolutely. one hundred percent jimmy. you know he has a terrible sense of humor. itâs awful. the worst.â
a drop of marinara slid from clarkâs shirt and landed on the hardwood floor with a soft plop as you turned the toy over in your hands. the silence stretched.
âmhm.â you took a step closer, watching the way his breath hitched when you tapped the toy against your palm. âand you havenât used it?â
clark hiccuped out a whimper, his adams apple bobbing violently. âi â i wouldnât!â
âwouldnât you?â your smile curled as you backed clark against the wall. âitâd be a shame to let a gift go to waste.â
clarkâs knees nearly buckled, his eyes darting between your face and the fleshlight like a deer in headlights. âi â i should really check on the pasta,â he stammered, pushing his glasses up. his attempt to sidestep was thwarted by your foot sliding between his, effectively caging him against the wall.
you clicked your tongue. âah ah, iâm not done,â you hummed. âtell me something, smallville,â you pointed the toy at him, âyou ever think about me when you use this?â
clark could only manage a strangled, âthatâs â thatâs not â!â
you waited patiently for a response. the silence echoed throughout the room until clarkâs shoulders finally slumped in defeat. â⊠once,â he admitted in a quiet whisper, âmaybe twice.â
âtake your shirt off,â you spoke plainly, tapping the toy against your palm again. âand go turn off the stove before your apartment burns down.â
clark immediately began to fumble with the rest of his shirt buttons. âlook, i swear i was going to throw it away after the first time, itâs just ââ
the distant hiss of boiling water interrupted his spiraling. with a yelp, clark threw his shirt off and ran to the kitchen. you followed behind him at a casual pace, marveling as clark stood stiffly upon turning the stove off, his bare shoulders tensed as he gripped the edge of the counter. his reflection warped in the stainless steel microwave door in an image of flushed cheeks and thoroughly mussed hair. you leaned against the fridge, rolling the silicone toy between your fingers as you waited for the pasta water to gurgle its last bubbles.
âcan we ââ his voice cracked. he refused to look at you. âcan we pretend you never found that?â
âclark,â you sighed, you voice intentionally light. âyouâve had this,â you gave the toy a little shake, âfor how long? a month? two?â
âum,â he couldnât muster an answer.
âand yet,â you continued, standing straight in front of him now, âyou havenât even tried to kiss me properly, let alone get me in bed.â
âi didnât want to⊠presume.â clark focused intently on a singular tile on the kitchen floor. he shifted his weight, his face and neck flushed.
âpresume?â you stepped close enough to see the hairs on his neck sticking up. âclark kent, reporter extraordinaire, scared to make assumptions?â
he made a sound like a deflating balloon. âthatâs completely unrelated ââ
âyou know what i think?â you mused, âi think you should show me exactly how this works.â
clarkâs hands flew up; whether it was to touch you or to grab the toy from your hands, even he didnât know. you traced the rim of the silicone opening, watching his pupils dilate behind smudged lenses.
âyou liked thinking about me when you used this,â you murmured. âimagine how much better itâll feel with me actually here.â you paused, holding the toy out for a moment as if to allow clark to grab it before you deliberately pulled it back. âunless⊠youâd rather i guess how itâs used?â
clark whined in response, pouting at your suggestion. âi ââ his voice cracked spectacularly, âthe â the instructions are pretty simple?â he voiced it as a question, clearly embarrassed.
you couldnât help the laugh that bubbled up. âoh, smallville,â you sighed, teasingly tapping the plastic sleeve of the toy against his bicep. âyouâre funny.â
with a firm grip on clarkâs wrist (as if he couldnât easily free himself from your grasp), you tugged him toward the hallway. clark stumbled after you, his chest rising and falling just a little too quickly to be casual. he shuffled awkwardly against the hardwood, nearly tripping over a crack in the floorboards when you stopped abruptly at his bedroom.
fleshlight still gripped in one hand, you sat on the edge of clarkâs bed. âsit,â you instructed, tone soft but leaving no room for argument.
clark sank gracelessly beside you, his hands fiddling awkwardly in his lap. the mattress dipped under his weight, tilting you just slightly toward him. you placed the toy onto the mattress between you. clark could do nothing but watch, transfixed.
âtell me how you like it,â you spoke in a tone so casual that you might as well have been asking clark about his sandwich preferences. âslow? fast?â there was a beat before you continued, quieter now, âlots of lube, i imagine.â
clark covered up a whine with a cough, his fingers digging into his palms. âitâs not â!â
ânot what? not enjoyable? not good?â you clicked your tongue in mock disappointment. âjimmyâs gonna be crushed.â
his head bowed. âno! i mean â itâs not â it works fine. itâs justâŠâ his eyes screwed shut. â⊠embarrassing.â
with a hum, you picked the toy back up and placed it into clarkâs hands, closing his fingers around it. âthatâs it. good.â
a small tremor ran through clarkâs form, his knuckles turning white around the plastic as his eyes slowly blinked open. then, with a shuddering exhale, he whispered a small âokay.â
the word was so soft that you almost missed it. you rewarded him with a slow smile, trailing two fingers along his bare forearm just to watch the goosebumps rise in their wake. there was something truly delicious about watching a man built like a brick wall melt like this. you leaned back slightly, giving him some semblance of space.
a long moment of silence passed between you as clark made no effort to move. âdonât mind me,â you cooed, your voice smooth with anticipation. you waited patiently, smirking as you watched the conflict flicker across his face.
â⊠lubeâŠâ clark muttered under his breath, his cheeks red.
you blinked. âhm?â
clark only ducked his head further, voice barely above a whisper. âi, uh, need lube.â
you giggled; clark was asking you for help because he couldnât bring himself to move. cute.
you watched him with undisguised interest, the corner of your mouth twitched upwards. âwhere do you keep it?â your voice was low, amused. clarkâs eyes darted toward the nightstand.
you reached over, pulling the drawer open with a deliberate sense of slowness. inside was a mess of pens, loose change, and there it was â a plastic bottle tucked discreetly beneath a folded receipt.
clarkâs hand shot out, snatching the bottle from your fingers before you could fully grasp it. his eyes flickered in frantic embarrassment as he held the small bottle in his grip. now with the bottle clenched in one hand and the toy in the other, clark looked over at you, his eyes glassy as he seemingly waited for your instruction.
âlooks like your hands are full, smallville. need some help?â you gestured, your hand landing on clarkâs thigh. the contact made him jolt, his breath catching under your touch. âitâs a yes or no question, clark,â you teased, tracing idle circles on his skin.
clarkâs hands, still clutching the lube and toy, moved slowly from their spot covering the bulge in his pants, causing clark to whine at the sudden exposure. his eyes darted to yours for the briefest second before skittering away again, but not fast enough to hide the spark of nervous anticipation.
your hand gravitated towards the waistband of clarkâs trousers, his breath stuttering as you hooked an eager finger into the metal tab of his zipper; the quiet click of the zipper teeth separating seemed absurdly loud in the stillness of the room. clarkâs chest rose and fell rapidly, the muscles in his abdomen tensing as you eased the zipper down. when your knuckles brushed against his bulge through the fabric, clark made a choked noise that he attempted to play off as a cough.
after finally undoing the button of his pants, you glanced up at him through your lashes. âyouâre doing so well,â you murmured, reveling in the way clarkâs entire body shuddered at the praise. your fingers lingered at his waistband for a moment before withdrawing, your hands settling back against the mattress with an expectant tilt of your head. âyour turn,â you nodded toward the objects clutched in his grip.
clark swallowed hard enough to make his throat click. he twisted the lube bottle open with trembling fingers, barely able to keep his eyes open to watch a thin stream of lube pour into the toyâs opening. the strain in his boxers began to ache as he swiped at the excess lube accumulating at the entrance of the fleshlight with his thumb, smearing it across the silicone pussy in a way that made his head fuzzy.
âis it â can i ââ clark whined, his throat dry.
you gently plucked the lube bottle from his hand, placing it on the bedside table. âuse your words, clark.â
he inhaled sharply through his nose, the flush of his cheeks deepening. âcan i⊠can i take it out?â the question came out strangled, like he was confessing to a crime rather than asking for permission to pull his dick out of his underwear.
you gave him a slow nod, humming in approval. clarkâs fingers quivered as they hooked under the waistband of his boxers, hesitating for a fraction of a second before finally tugging them down just enough to free himself. the moment his length sprang free, his breath hitched â partly from relief, but mostly from sheer mortification as your gaze dropped to take him in.
and oh, there was plenty to take in. thick, undoubtedly heavy, and flushed a deep red at the tip, you mused as a bead of precum glistened at his slit. his thighs tensed under your scrutiny, his hips twitching as if he wanted to hide but couldnât quite bring himself to.
âoh, clark,â you let out a low, appreciative hum. âlook at you, all worked up just from me looking at you.â
clark whimpered, high and desperate, his hips bucking slightly as he wordlessly begged for friction. his face burned hot as he choked out a stuttered âplease.â
you let your fingertips brush against his outer thigh, your touch featherlight. âeasy, big guy.â you soothed, though your voice was anything but gentle. he made another strangled sound, his length bouncing against his stomach in response. âaw, does that do something for you, clark? me praising your cock?â
âyou â you know it does,â he managed, voice small.
your fingers trailed up his thigh before you pulled them away, causing clark to let out a small sound in protest. âhmm,â you tapped a finger against your chin, feigning thoughtfulness. âyou sure you can even fit in that thing?â you whispered, âlooks like a tight squeeze.â
clark flushed a shade darker, his head snapping up. âi do â!â he blurted out indignantly.
you had to fight back a smirk. âprove it, then.â
he exhaled shakily in response, adjusting his grip on the toy as his other hand hovered uncertainly over his length. he hesitated, then let out a stuttered breath as he finally wrapped his fingers around his shaft, giving himself a tentative stroke. his hips jerked into his own touch, a quiet whine escaping him. with shaky hands, he guided the toy towards his tip, the slicked silicone dripping lube onto his cock. clarkâs legs tensed, his brows knitting together as he pushed the toy down, the tight resistance making his breath come in short, uneven bursts.
you watched, rapt, as he worked himself slowly into the toy inch by inch, his entire body shuddering with the effort. the resistance built steadily as clark worked the toy down his cock, and once you saw through the clear plastic that he had reached the halfway point, his hips stuttered involuntarily, a strangled noise escaping his throat.
âitâs â itâs tighter than i â oh god â remember,â his biceps flexed as he tried to push deeper, the silicone stretching obscenely around him. the sight alone was absolutely pornographic. clarkâs eyes glazed over.
âdoing so well,â you hummed, scooting a bit closer to him on the edge of the bed. âyou got it, baby.â
clark let out a shuddering exhale, his grip on the toy adjusting slightly. his thighs trembled as he tried angling himself differently, the tip of his cock catching against the tight interior.
âi can â haah â usually ââ he cut himself off with another whine as he forced himself to sit still. âit fits. it does, i swear.â he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than you. his breathing slowed marginally, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough for him to let the toy slide another fraction of an inch downward. a punched-out whimper left clarkâs lips.
âthatâs it,â you praised, watching the way his eyelashes fluttered at your words. âlook at you, taking it so patiently.â
clarkâs cock twitched visibly inside the toy, your praise urging clark to finally lower the toy the rest of the way so he was buried to the hilt inside it.
âsâtoo much,â he slurred, his voice thick with embarrassment and pleasure. âfeels â nngh â so different with you watching.â
you hummed thoughtfully, leaning forward just enough to cover clarkâs hand on the toy for a moment before pulling away. âdifferent good or different bad?â
clarkâs reply came out in a rush: âgood. so good. please ââ he cut himself off abruptly, biting his lower lip hard as the words threatened to fall out.
you smiled, watching him squirm for a second before speaking, âplease what, clark? cmon, use your words.â
he whined high in his throat, his hips making abortive little thrusts into the toy. âwant ââ his voice cracked pathetically. âplease keep talking. please.â the toy made a squelching noise as clark shifted slightly, the sound obscenely loud in the room. clark froze, humiliation flashing across his face before dissolving into a desperate whine.
âgood boy,â you dragged the words out, slow and syrupy. âsuch a sweet boy, holding still for me⊠you wanna move, baby?â
clark made a choked sound, his hips twitching before stilling again, willing himself to wait for your permission. the toy gave another wet, sticky noise that caused clarkâs breath to come in shallow puffs. âyes⊠please,â his voice was small and warbled.
âgo ahead, baby. fuck your toy for me.â
clarkâs movement was tentative at first, the slick drag of the silicone paired with desperate little thrusts causing his rhythm to be terribly clumsy. âthatâs it, just like that,â you coaxed, delighting in the way he whimpered hopelessly at the praise.
he continued working himself for a few more moments before it happened â one particularly enthusiastic pull, a choked-off whine, and suddenly the toy popped free with a wet plop. clark let out a soft sob as the sudden loss of pressure left his cock twitching in the air, flushed and glistening.
for a moment, he could do nothing but stare at the toy in his hand. he let out a soft, frustrated humph. âthat doesnât usually happen,â he tried to justify himself, the apple of his throat bobbing wildly.
you couldnât help but laugh, soft and fond as you reached out to cup his knee. âaw, too excited to hold onto it properly?â the teasing lift of your voice made him whimper, his cock throbbing. âpoor thing,â you mewled, shifting closer on the bed until your knee brushed against his thigh. âlooks like you might need a little help, big guy.â
clarkâs grip on the toy tightened reflexively, then loosened as he considered the idea. âi can â i can try again â"
you tsked softly, reaching out to take the toy from his trembling fingers. the plastic was warm from his grip, and you made a show of examining it, turning it over in your hands while clark watched, wide-eyed and breathless.
âmm, no,â you said finally, your voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. âi think we both know youâre a little too worked up to manage it on your own right now.â you tilted your head, letting your gaze drag slowly down clarkâs body before meeting his eyes again.
clarkâs breath hitched audibly under your gaze. his cock leaked a small puddle of precum against his stomach, and he looked utterly wrecked; his hair slightly damp, his lips bitten pink. so desperate and pliant for you.
you continued fiddling with the toy in your hands as clark swallowed, forcing out another barely-there âplease.â
clark let out a moan that could only be described as pathetic as your fingers finally curled around his weeping length with a purposeful slowness. his cock throbbed instinctively in your hand before his voice broke in apology.
âeasy, clark,â you soothed, your thumb briefly brushing over the slick head of his cock. âiâve got you.â you gave him a slow, deliberate stroke before you brought the toy back to his tip, sliding the slit against him to spread the lube along his cock.
clarkâs fingers twisted into the sheets beside him as he struggled to figure out what else to do with his hands. he watched intently as you eased him back into the toy, applying gentle pressure.
âlook at you,â you breathed, âso eagerâŠâ the resistance became tighter as you watched the toy swallow him back up.
a high, keening noise escaped clarkâs throat as he bottomed out once more, the feeling increasingly dizzying due to you being the one controlling the fleshlight.
you gave the toy a slow glide upwards, watching clarkâs entire body shudder as you pulled it nearly all the way off him before pressing down again, not quite as gently this time.
âyouâre ââ he whimpered as you stoked him again, âyouâre moving it differently than i â gosh â than i do.â
with a giggle, you twisted the toy slightly on the next stroke to see him jolt. âyeah? you like it, baby?â clark made a strangled noise of protest that you took as answer enough, your free hand skating up his thigh just to feel the way his muscles jumped under your touch. the toy made loud, slick noises with every movement now, and clarkâs mouth had fallen open without him realizing, little desperate whines escaping between ragged breaths. âtell me what you imagine when you use this, clark,â you ordered softly, slowing your movements a bit to watch his face scrunch.
clark fought to keep his eyes open, a high and desperate whine building in his throat. âyou â you â riding me,â he keened once more.
you rewarded him with a faster pace. âyeah? and what do i say to you, baby?â
clarkâs head tipped back, exposing the line of his throat. âthat iâm good,â he whimpered, âthat i fill you up so nice ââ
you crooned, twisting the toy once more. âmm, you imagine me bouncing on your pretty cock?â you punctuated the words with a firm stroke, hearing his breath stutter audibly. âfilling me up so much that you can see your cock bulging from my tummy?â
clarkâs hips jerked violently up into the toy with a wet slap, his entire body tensed. his cock pulsed visibly inside the clear silicone, a strangled moan cascading from his lips. âgonna â nnh â canât ââ his words dissolved into a high-pitched whimper as his stomach muscles clenched, his knuckles white as he willed his body to hold back.
âsuch a pretty boy, clark,â you rested your chin on his shoulder as you continued stroking, âall worked up just from my voice. you close already?â
clark sobbed as he attempted to fight the building pressure. âplease, please,â he gasped, his voice fraying at the edges. âtoo much, too good.â
his hips arched slightly off the bed as you sped up. âyeah? you wanna cum, baby?â you teased, âgonna be a good boy and let me see you make a mess in your toy?â
clark panted raggedly as he frantically nodded, too far gone to form coherent sentences. his cock pulsed again, the flushed tip leaking against the slick interior of the toy. his toes curled, thighs trembling violently as he teetered on the edge of release.
you gave him one last slow, deliberate drag of the toy, your thumb pressing lightly against the base of his cock just to hear him whimper from the feeling of your skin on his. âgo on,â you coaxed, your voice dropping to a whisper against his ear. âlet go for me. been such a good boy.â
clark came with a broken cry, his hips jerking helplessly as pleasure wracked through him. he canted his hips up to meet the toy halfway as you stroked him, his release spilling into the silicone in thick pulses. his lips parted around shallow, gasping breaths as he blinked up at the ceiling. he whispered soft âthank youâs when the aftershocks began to hit him.
when clark gasped in oversensitivity, you eased the toy off him with a soft, wet sound, setting it aside before pressing a soft kiss to his temple and nuzzling against his sweat-damp hair. âthere you go,â you hummed, âdid so good for me.â
clark let out a soft, contented noise as he caught his breath. âmaybe next time iâll let you feel the real thing,â you teased after a long moment of silence. he opened his mouth â probably to stammer out some flustered objection again â but you pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth before he could embarrass himself further. you patted his thigh sympathetically. âso, you said you have a bunch of takeout menus around here somewhere?â
clark blinked hazily, his post-orgasm haze clearly still clinging to him. he practically slumped against you, breathing you in for a moment before he mustered up the strength to gesture vaguely towards the kitchen. âmmph⊠iâll get them in a minute.â
seeing red
âŠClark Masterlist - Read on aO3! - Main MasterlistâŠ
âŠsummary: all week, clark's been acting strange. he won't go near you, won't look at you, and by friday he's vanished all together. everyone seems to know why but you. but nothing's going to keep you away from him. not for that long.âŠ
âŠwarnings/tags: friends to lovers, secret identity shenanigans, emotional angst, fluff, sex pollen, sex pollen level smut, a little plot for the porn (male masturbation, manhandling, clark's feral, emotional sex, dry humping, blowjobs and facefucking, dumbification, dirty talk, sensitive reader, finger sucking, clark gets nasty, body worship, crazy overstimulation, sex pollen stamnia, fingering, oral f!recieving, begging, praise kink, monster dick clark, he fucks like a machine, breeding kink), no use of y/n, no descrption of readerâŠ
âŠwc: 10.5kâŠ
âŠauthor's note: request and voted fic! i got. real horny with itâŠ
Clark has been acting strange all week.
He got into work on Monday with a red face, and you didnât question it. He runs everywhere. Itâs a little ridiculous he doesnât have a red face more.
âWant some water?â Youâd tapped on his desk, and heâd let out a sharp breath.
âYeah.â His voice had been strangely rough, his glasses almost slipping off his nose. âWater- Water would be nice. Thank you.
He hadnât looked you in the eyes.
Not when you brought the water to his desk, or for the rest of the day. When you got in the next morning, he was already at his desk, but didnât do more than mumble a good morning. His shoulders had squared and rippled, when youâd walked past.
Youâd gone to the bathroom, and made sure you didnât reek of something rancid. Maybe there was a sulfur leak in your apartment and youâd just gotten used to it. Maybe youâd stepped in dog poop on the train and no oneâs told you.
âDo I smell bad?â Youâd asked Jimmy, and heâd looked at you like your were crazy.
âI donât know? I donât go around smelling people like a- A serial killer-â
âIâm not asking you to smell me like a serial killer.â Youâd hissed, leaning down to block him in his chair. âIâm asking you to smell me like a friend, Lois smells me all the time-â
âThen go ask Lois!â
âLois is in Gotham, I canât ask Lois-â
âThen ask Clark, heâll be happy to smell me-â
âI canât ask Clark.â Youâd whined. âCome on, please smell me-â
Jimmy had eyed you suspiciously. âIf this is some weird mating dance, Iâm not interested-â
âItâs not a mating dance!â
âIt seems like a mating dance-â
âItâs not-â Youâd shaken your head. âJust stop being a fucking pussy and smell me!â
Someone had cleared their throat behind you. Jimmyâs eyes had widened, fixed right over your shoulder, and youâd known who it was before you turned.
You know that low, controlled sound. You know the rush that his attention brings, and the shiver up your spine whenever heâs close. You close your eyes tight, breathing through your nose, and turn to Clark with a plastered smile.
âHi, Clark! No one was trying to smell anyone-â
You cut yourself off when you see him. You almost forget how to speak.
Heâs a wreck. Curly hair is plastered to his brow, his white button up is more sweat stains than dry spots, and thereâs a vein pushing out of his neck that seems painful. His glasses keep trying to slip off his nose, and heâs shifting like even just standing is uncomfortable. Heâs pale and red all at once, ruddy in his face and paper white in his fists. The flush deepens near his neck, and returns to his arms right before the cut off of his rolled up sleeves. Heâs breathing through his mouth.
His eyes are black, and gleaming.
You scramble away from Jimmy, yanking yourself back from going to press a hand to Clarkâs brow.
Clark takes a jagged, stumbling step back.
You look back to Jimmy, and he gives you a tight shake of his head. He doesnât know what to do either. Youâve never seen Clark with so much as a paper cut, and now it looks like he needs a hospital.
âHey, buddy.â Jimmy tries, voice soft. Like heâs speaking to a feral animal. âYou feeling alright?â
Clark jerks his head to Jimmy, and his nostrils flare. Like heâd almost forgotten Jimmy was there.
Jimmy leans back. And you know he doesnât mean to. Itâs Clark. The softest, sweetest heart you know, shoved into a giantâs body.
But like this, Clark doesnât look like a man. He looks like something thatâs crawled out of your darkest wet dream. Like something that should be in the sky, fighting Superman. With the black eyes and sudden, jagged movements, he looks like an animal.
He looks dangerous.
And he doesnât respond right away. Clark stares at Jimmy, breathing heavily, then squeezes his eyes shut. You and Jimmy exchange another worried look. If heâs been corrupted by somethingâin this world, you canât rule anything outâand he attacks, youâre not sure you can fight him off. Emotionally or physically. Clarkâs huge, heâd crush Jimmy with one fist and youâd be nothing but an annoying fly to be swatted across the room.
But whateverâs going on with Clark, he seems to drag it under control. He opens his eyes, and a thin ring of blue is back.
âIâm fine.â He rasps, staring at Jimmy. âJust- Didnât sleep well. You know.â
Jimmy blinks. âNo, uh- I donât-â
Clark looks at you.
And you could swear the blue flickers, when your eyes meet.
âYou smell good.â He mutters.
He turns like somethingâs dragging him, and walks away. You and Jimmy stand there for about three more minutesâin total baffled silenceâbefore Jimmyâs mouth falls open.
âWhat the fuck is up with him?â
Nobody seems to be sure.
On Tuesday, he seems a little better. He eats lunch with you. Wheels his chair next to yours like usual while heâs editing, because you always catch typos he misses, and heâs a good reporter but not the best writer.
âYou canât use that word here.â You tap his laptop screen. He frowns.
âThere are no other words I could use, though-â
âCorrupt?â
âBut- Oh.â He sighs, hitting backspace. âSee? Thatâs why youâre the expert.â
You laugh softly, and Clark gives you his usual small, almost shy smile.
âHowâs your piece coming?â He asks kindlyâalways kindlyâand you groan.
âDogshit.â
âIâm sure itâs not that bad-â
âMy main source backed out.â You grumble. âLike a little baby bitch. I canât make this level of accusations again LuthorCorp without a source, itâs asking for a defamation lawsuit, and after the last one Perry would kill me-â
âBut you won the last one.â Clark frowns, and you give him a pointed look.
âYeah. Because I had a source.â
âAh. Right.â He pauses, pushing his glasses slowly up his nose.
You watch the movement as subtly as possible. You love it when he does that. Itâs a tiny, adorable quirk that makes you want to rip his hand away and push them up yourself.
âWhat if I said I have a source for you?â He asks softly, and you perk up.
âReally?â
âYeah, really.â He grins. âYou know, Iâd think youâd have faith in me, I wouldnât lie about that-â
âShut up, Iâm excited-â
âI can tell.â He boops your nose, and you stick your tongue out at him.
He does that all the time. He says you get a bunny nose when youâre excited about something, and then you hit him because nothing about you is bunny like.
Sometimes you say that, and he chuckles.
You have no idea. He mutters under his breath.
And sometimes he hits your nose, and your breath hitches because he touched you.
Today you keep it under control.
Itâs Clark that freezes. Coughs and goes red, wheeling his chair an inch back. You frown at him, ready to ask whatâs wrong, but he shakes his head like heâs already denying you an answer.
âItâs- Uh- Superman.â
You blink. âWhat?â
âSuperman can be your source.â He grunts, shifting in his chair. âI can ask him to. For you.â
âI- You donât have to.â
âI want to.â
âI can find someone else-â
âNo, I- Iâve got it.â
He stares at you. You stare back, heart swelling with something sweeter than you usually allow it to feel.
Youâre used to your feelings for Clark. You try not to think about them, especially not in his presence. Thereâs no amount of love youâd risk your friendship for.
But he makes that rule hard to follow sometimes. When he starts being stupidly perfect.
You smile at him, wide and unrestrained. âThank you.â
He nodsâtight and jerkedâstares for a long, long moment. He shoots to his feet.
âI have to go to the bathroom!â He announces to the whole bullpen.
Clark sprints away. Jimmy gives you a questioning look, and you shake your head.
He doesnât come back for an hour. When he does, his face is wholly red again.
Heâs back to not looking you in the eyes. Back to looking so sick youâre worried he might be going feral.
And you have no idea what to do.
Lois gets back on Wednesday, and the first thing she says to you is Whatâs up with Smallville? Perry corners you at your desk to ask if youâve got any idea whatâs Clarkâs been up to that might be doing this to him. Steve loudly jokes that everyone should be placing bets on when Clark passes out. Cat keeps trying to bring him teaâa thin guise so she can suggest home remedies to whatever super hangover he hasâand Clark always drinks it with shaking hands.
He listens to all her suggestions without interrupting, but whenever Jimmy suggests Urgent Careâyouâve given up on trying to get him to the ERâClark grunts a sound like no and wonât hear another word.
Youâre getting really worried. Everyone gets sick, but Clarkâs always talking about his very good immune system.
And nobody gets sick like this. Legally, Perry should be making him go home, but no one can get close enough to confirm a fever, and itâs somehow not effecting his work performance.
âClark.â You sit on the edge of his desk, keeping your voice soft. âYou need to go to a doctor.â
His whole body locks up. His fingers freeze on his keyboard, and he bows his head like heâs in prayer.
âClark-â
âPlease.â He says, so quiet you almost miss it. âBack up.â
You blink. âBack up?â
He nods, and thereâs a sting in your heart.
He hasnât asked anyone else to back up.
But you slide off his desk, and take a single step back. Another, when he doesnât relax from the first.
You clear your throat, tucking your hands behind your back. Clark lets out a heavy, ragged exhale, and looks up.
He still wonât fully meet your gaze. His darkened eyes are fixed right over your head, and you try not to let it hurt more than it already does.
âClark.â Youâve lost a little bit of nerve. You try not to let him hear it. âThe doctor-â
âI donât need a doctor.â He tells the ceiling, and you sigh.
âYouâre sick-â
âNo. Iâm not.â
âDude, I- I can feel your fever from here.â The heat, rolling off his body like heâs an active star. âAt least just go so they can say youâre not sick.â
He doesnât answer. You almost take a step forward, before reeling yourself back. He doesnât want you too close.
âPlease?â You say. âIt would make all of us feel better.â
That makes him look at you. For just a split second, barely a heartbeat, but long enough.
His eyes go wholly back. He wheels his chair backwards, like thereâs something toxic coming off of you that heâs trying to avoid.
And it hurts. It hurts so much your face burns with shame, and your stomach does a sick clench of pain.
Itâs never fun, for the man youâve quietly been in love with for years, to look at you like youâre proximity might kill him.
The only thing that stops you from crying is worry for him.
But thatâs not enough to hold back the crack in your voice.
âClark- Please-â
He shakes his head, jaw clenching. You swallow, and take another step back.
âOh- Okay. Sorry.â
You turn on your heels. Behind you, Clark rasps your name.
And you look back. You canât help it.
But all he does is stare at you.
So you walk away.
Clark doesnât come in on Thursday. Jimmy goes to check on him, but wonât report back on what he finds. When he gets back to the office, his face is bloodless and eyes wider than an owl.
âIs he-â
âHeâs not sick.â Jimmy stares at you like youâre a ghost. âHeâs- Um- We should- Give him space.â
You frown. âBut-â
âLots of space.â Jimmy mutters under his breath, already walking away. âAnd maybe me some bleach. Freakinâ- Gross-â
Lois comes up next to you, watching Jimmy head into the bathroom. Youâre wringing your hands, lips pressed in a painfully tight line, and Lois grabs your wrists.
âDonât go visit him.â
You shoot her a glare. âI wasnât going to-â
âYes, you were.â She raises her brows. âDonât.â
âBut-â
âDonât.â
âWhat if he needs something-â
âI texted his cousin. She knows what to do.â
âToâŠâ You narrow your eyes, pulling your hands from Loisâ grip. âYou know whatâs going on with him, donât you.â
Lois shrugs. âYeah. Maybe.â
âLois-â
âHeâs going to be fine.â She says, giving you a firm look. âDonât check on him.â
She walks away without another word.
On Friday, you go to Clarkâs apartment.
You donât go inside. Loisâ voice keeps ringing in your head, and while youâre more than willing to disobey her, itâs the way sheâd said it.
Donât.
His door is right there.
Loisâ voice fills the gaps in city noise. Pointed and direct. Almost hopeless. Like she knew you wouldnât listen.
Donât.
You made him soup, because youâre pathetic. Heâd left his jacket at work on Wednesday, and youâd brought it home to clean up before returning it. Youâd had a whole painted daydream made of pastels and watercolor, where youâd give Clark his jacket, heâd swoon with how romantic that is, and then kiss you.
But like real watercolor, the colors bleed and run. Blur together. Itâs too fuzzy a picture to be reality.
You stand at his door. You donât remember walking inside the building.
Donât.
But you want to.
Donât.
He could need someone, what if his cousin was busy, what if heâs been waiting for you to check on him-
Donât.
Loisâ voice isnât louder than your heartbeat. But itâs level. And your pulse is erratic in your throat and fingers.
And you keep seeing Clarkâs face. Keep thinking of how heâd been stiffer than concrete, until youâd moved away.
He wouldnât want to see you right now. Heâd made that clear.
You put the soup and jacket on the doorstep, and ring the doorbell.
Before Clark can open it, you walk away.
On Saturday, you hole up in your apartment and work.
Itâs a distraction. Anything not to think of Clark. To think of how sick he is, how he might be in pain, how he might need help but not from you. How lately he canât stand to be in the same room as you, and apparently everyone gets to know whatâs going on with him except you-
You groan, tipping your head back against the couch.
This is exactly what youâre trying not to think about.
Itâs hard, though. Impossibly hard. If only because you open your email, and see a bunch of messages from Clark. You open Teams, and his messages are pinned at the top. You send Jimmy something, and have to include Clark as a contributor. Lois sends you something, and Clark is CCâd.
Heâs everywhere. You canât stop checking your phone for a message, even if Jimmy says heâs basically out of commission. Canât really do anything right now, heâd grumbled, making a sour face. Too⊠Sick.
Heâd said it weird, but everything about this is weird.
Usually youâd talk to Clark about that.
You miss him.
Goddamnit.
Apparently, youâre very bad at not thinking about Clark.
You busy yourself. Clean the apartment, do the laundry, waste the day, donât think about Clark.
He gave you this pencil. Let you borrow this sweater, that youâve been hoarding like a dragon with gold since. Sent you the cheesecake in the back of your fridge as a birthday present, and it had been horrible but youâd kept it anyway.
You lie flat on the floor, and fail not to think about Clark a little more. Maybe you should text him. Just so he knows youâre thinking of him. Or text Lois and ask for his cousinâs number, so you can ask her if heâs okay. Or let the anxiety fully overpower Loisâ voice in your head, and go visit him.
Youâre about to go with that last option, when thereâs a bang on your window. You shoot up with wide eyes, expecting a massive bird.
Instead you find Superman, standing in your fire escape. Itâs hard to see him, in the shadows of dusk. His head is strangely bowed, his shoulders slumped in a way youâve never seen on TV. Maybe heâs just more casual, when heâs doing home visits.
But why is he home visiting you.
Usually that would freak you out. This week, itâs just another fucking thing.
You open the window slowly, poking your head outside.
âHello?â
Superman looks up at you, and your mouth goes dry.
He doesnât look well.
Red and pale face, messed up hair, heaving chest. Clenched fists, sweat-slicken face, blown out eyes with barely a ring of blue-
Like Clark.
Just like Clark.
And itâs not just the ragged appearance. Itâs something deeper. Itâs the way heâs staring at you like heâs worried youâre going to attack him. Like heâs restraining himself from moving, like youâre a repellant and he wants to fly away.
Or something else.
Without the glasses, thereâs something else.
He looks desperate. The shadows on his face look longer. Maybe itâs just the sickness overtaking him, but he looks hungry. Desperate and starved. Thereâs an openness on his face that wasnât there before. And heâs not looking at you like heâs afraid or skittish.
Heâs looking at you like heâs a predator. Like youâre prey.
âClark?â
âIâm here for your interview-â
You speak at the same time. Your voice is a breath. SupermanâClark? âpushes out his words like they hurt, and falters in a second.
He stumbles back like heâs been hit. You scramble forward to catch him, your body not worried about anything but Clark is going to fall.
Your hand wraps around his wrist. He makes a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. Almost a growl.
His eyes flutter. He moans out your name, trying to tug weakly away.
âClark- Wait-â
Supermanâs body goes slack, and he collapses in your arms.
At one in the morning on Sunday, too much is happening.
You put ClarkâSuperman? âin your bed. Took his temperature and dropped the thermometer in shock.
Heâs burning at 150 degrees.
He should be dead. Youâre not even sure how you touched him without burning up.
The thermometer clatters to the ground, and Clark shifts in his sleep. Groans out a garbled, pained noise that sounds like your name.
You swallow, hugging yourself tight. Itâs hard not to reach out to him, but you donât feel like you should. He hadnât wanted you near him, and youâve already crossed a few lines by putting him in your bed.
Then he moans, ripping the thin sheets off his body.
That time it was definitely your name.
Superman moaned your name.
You back out of the room slowly, with an embarrassing amount of effort. You canât rip your eyes away from him.
Clark in your bed, calling for you and rolling around like a rutting beast. Whateverâs tormenting him isnât enough to wake him up, but itâs enough to drive you out of your mind. You bite the inside of your cheek, and force yourself to close the door. It solves the looking at him problem.
It does nothing for hearing him.
And heâs loud. Youâre lucky the apartments have thick walls between units, or youâd get a noise complaint. Clark is almost howling from his room, and whenever you give into temptation and go to check on him, heâs somehow managed to rip another item of clothing off in his sleep.
It starts with his top. The symbol on his chest gets torn to shreds, revealing a broad, flushed chest. Heâs got a small happy trail. Muscles that you want to trace, and boobs that might be bigger than yours.
Your eyes wander to his abdomen. Thereâs a happy trail that leads down, down, down, and-
Oh.
Thatâs⊠Big.
You slam the door closed, and run back to the kitchen. Cold water does nothing against the heat building in your core. You splash it on your face and drink two glasses, but you might as well be downing sea salt. Youâre thirstier than when you started.
The image seems to be burned behind your eyes. Clarkâs bulge. Supermanâs bulge.
You still havenât really dealt with that.
Clark is Superman. Superman is Clark. Youâre sure. Youâve spent the last hour on the couch, sketching out timelines and checking your work. The random disappearances in the middle of the day. How youâve never seen him get drunk. The fact that heâs built like a Greek god but never works out, and whenever Jimmy asks him for a routine he just says grow up on a farm. Â
And be a Kryptonian. That would probably also help.
To be sureâyou have to be positive, before Superman wakes up and you start throwing around accusationsâyou cut out a pair of paper glasses and build up all your courage.
When you step into your room, it hits you like a tidal wave. The smell of sex, sweat and cum and something deeper. Clarkâs ripped off his tights, and apparently the outside boxers are the only thing heâd been using for cover.
You donât let yourself look. Your traitorous eyes try to, but you refuse to glance past his thick thighs. You wonât violate him like that. Youâre here for confirmation, and nothing else.
Carefully, you wipe the sticky hair from Clarkâs brow. His whole body shudders under your light touch, and he bucks up to chase your fingers when you pull away. A deep whine escapes from his lips, and you swallow.
Dear lord.
Very, very slowly, you put the paper glasses on his nose. He wrinkles it, trying to buck them off, but you plant a hand on his chest.
You donât mean to. You move before you can think.
Clark relaxes. His body goes slack like putty, save for a single hand flying to your wrist, holding tight.
He could break you. Heâs Superman. Youâve watchedâalbeit from afarâhim pick up whole buildings. But his touch on you is light, as if youâre glass. His jaw relaxes. A purr rumbles under your hand, and his thumb starts to trace small circles.
You stare at him, every logical thought in your head evaporating in the heat of the room. The glasses confirmed exactly what you wanted them to.
Clark is Superman,
And somehow, thatâs the least important thing thatâs happening right now.
His brow is unfurrowed, his mouth hanging open as he pants out your name.
âClark?â You breathe, and he moans.
This time, he calls your name. His eyes flutter in his sleep, and his hand starts to move. Dragging yours down his chest. Over his pecs, his ribs, to his abdomen and-
You yank away with a squeak, when you realize. Clark whines, immediately seizing up the second you pull away.
He looks like heâs in pain. Your touch helped, and heâd liked it, and-
No. You canât. You wonât. Youâre stronger than that, and heâs not in his right mind. Whateverâs effecting himâwhateverâs strong enough to effect Supermanâcanât be letting him think clearly. It would be one thing if he asked. Another to touch him in his sleep, just because heâd moved your hand there. He probably doesnât even know itâs you.
But heâd been calling your name. Heâs calling your name right now.
The steam of the room is getting to your head. You stumble away, squeezing your eyes shut when Clark keens in pain.
If you werenât such a masochist, youâd put in earbuds to avoid hearing him. But he keeps calling your name.
And youâre not that strong at all.
Clark wakes up at four in the morning. You havenât even managed to close your eyes.
Youâre so dazed from the everything that you donât hear him coming. You just realize the moans have stopped, and hear a quiet mumble of your name.
When you turn, Clarkâs standing in the door of the living room.
Heâs naked.
Fully naked.
And this time, youâre too tired stop your eyes from wandering.
Heâs glorious. Itâs not just the muscle and size of him, itâs all Clark. How his flexing arms are the ones that catch up when you stumble over yourself, and his legs are the ones that bring you coffee in the morning. Those fisted hands hold your hair back when youâre sick and boop your nose. His tense knees bump against yours under almost every table, and his chest keeps you tucked safely away from the world whenever you have a meltdown.
But itâs also the muscle and size of him. He looks wound up, so tight youâre worried he may snap. The coat of sweat on his skin is begging to be licked off, and his thick arms could wrap around your neck and you wouldnât complain.
And his cock.Â
You donât know how he manages to walk around with that thing. Itâs bigger than the toys youâve seen in shops, bigger than the ones in porn that have to be fake, bigger than the lewdest drawings on the internet. Thick and veiny, hard and standing proud. His balls are heavy, and you kind of want to put them in your mouth. Every inch of him is slicked with cum, and you realize you just licked your lips far too late.
Clark clears his throat. You look up with burning cheeks and wide eyes.
âClark, I- Iâm so sorry-â
âDonât.â He mutters, shifting on his feet. You can see his arms jerking wildly. Like heâs actively stopping them from moving. âIâm the one that should be sorry, I- I shouldnât have come here.â
He winces at his own word choice, rubbing a stain of release on his thigh. Heâd been humping the sheets all night. Youâd heard the squeak of the mattress, and-
âI broke your bed.â He mumbles, not meeting your gaze. âIâll fix it when- This passes.â
âClark-â
âStop saying it like that.â
You blink. Clark takes a deep breath, and looks up at you.
His eyes are shining. You canât tell if itâs with frustration, or sadness, or that something else.
âPlease donât say my name. Like that, or- At all.â His throat bobs. âIt makes everything very hard.â
Your lips twitch, and you glance back to his dick. He sighs.
âYeah. I know. There are only so many words I can use, you know.â
You laugh softly, despite everything.
Clark grabs the doorframe with a groan. It cracks under his hands, and he wonât stop staring at you,.
âDonât laugh either.â
âI- Iâm sorry-â
âAnd donât apologize, or- Or look at me-â
He cuts himself off with a long moan, and you fix your gaze very pointedly on the ceiling.
âCla-â You cut yourself off. âShould I call you Superman?â
âNo- That- Thatâs weird-â
âKal-El?â
âWorse.â He grunts, and you sigh.
âI need to be able to call you something.â
âIt would be better if you didnât talk, actually.â
That makes you glare at him. He winces, face scrunching in apology.
âNo, not- Not like that-â
âNot like what-â
âItâs just, when you talk-â
âItâs hard?â You snap, and you donât know why youâre so mad all of a sudden. Maybe itâs how you havenât slept in almost two days.
Itâs probably that. But also, something needs to break. If Clark just Supermans away after everything, youâre going to kill him.
âPlease donât sat that word.â Clark mumbles, and you shake your head.
âNo. Iâm going to talk, and youâre going to listen and give me answers.â
âI- I donât think thatâs a good idea-â
âYou donât get to decide whatâs a good idea right now, boner-boy.â
He wrinkles his nose. âThat⊠Doesnât seem fair.â
âMaybe, but you know whatâs also not fair?â You cross your arms over your chest, raising your chin. âIgnoring your best friend for a week, then showing up with a fever and- And magic boner then telling her to shut up!â
âI didnât tell you to shut up-â
âYou said I shouldnât talk.â
âI said it would be better if you didnât talk.â He mumbles, staring at the floor. âThatâs not the same-â
âShut up.â
âSorry.â
The wall cracks further. You wrinkle your nose.
âYou better fix the wall, Kent.â
âI will. âM sorry-â
âStop apologizing to me, and just- Just tell me whatâs wrong!â
You take a step forward. Clark shrinks back, but doesnât move away.
âYouâre not allowed to- To be mad.â He glances up under his lashes, and lets out another labored sigh. âBe more mad.â
 Thatâs not promising, but your worry outweighs your anger. You nod, watching him expectantly. He closes his eyes, like he canât bear to see your reaction. Â
âYou know kryptonite?â
You blink. âOf course I know kryptonite, I donât live under a rock.â
âRight. Well,â he coughs. âThereâs, uh- This thing. Called red kryptonite. And it does⊠Weird things. To me. And other Kryptonians. Which is just Kara- My cousin- I think youâd like her-â
âClark.â
âSorry- Sorry.â He groans. You can trace a bead of sweat down his brow.
âRed kryptonite?â You prompt, softer than before.
His cock twitches. You try not think about it.
âI got exposed to some.â He mumbles. âLast weekend. And it never does the same thing twice, but usually itâs something like⊠Shrinking me. Flipping my personality, or giving me an extra power or curse or- Once it turned me into a fish-â
âIt what-â
âI got better.â He says quickly. âBut itâs usually immediate. This wasnât. I- I even hoped I got lucky. That it wasnât going to effect me at all. Then I got into the office on Monday, and saw you, andâŠâ
He trails off, words hanging in the air.
Saw you.
You activated the red kryptonite in him.
Thereâs a very reasonable guess to what itâs doing. You still need to hear him say it, before you do something about it.
âWhat happened when you saw me?â You breathe, and he gives you a pleading look.
Makes a loose gesture to his erection. You bite back a smile. Heâs going to need talking into this.
âClark.â You say gently, and he groans.
âPlease donât make me say it.â
You give him a look, and he turns even redder than before. Stares down at his feet like a scolded child. Itâs almost adorable, while also remaining impossibly hot.
âItâs very⊠Demanding.â He mumbles. âAbout certain things that I would like to do. And it is very particular about who I need to do it with. But- I canât ask that of you-â
âCanât you?â
Your question is quiet. You know heâll hear you.
And Clarkâs head snaps up, his jaw hanging open. He shakes his head.
âYou- You canât mean that-â
âWhy not?â
You take a small step forward. Clark grabs the other side of the door way, tracking your every movement with that predatory focus.
âIâd like to.â You murmur. He grunts.
âYou donât have to pity me-â
âItâs not pity.â
He chuckles dryly. âFeels like it. I know you donât- Thatâs not how you feel-â
âWho says itâs not how I feel?â
You fix him with a challenging glare, and Clark swallows.
âUhh⊠Steve?â
You scoff. âSteveâs been trying to ask me out for three years, of course heâd tell you that.â
Clark shakes his head, his whole body trembling.
Youâve stopped a foot away. More than close enough for him to grab you. But he has to make that final step himself.
âI- I could hurt you.â He says, giving you that puppy look.
You shrug. âI like being hurt a little.â
His cock jumps. He doubles over, and youâre a little worried heâs going to break your whole apartment if he doesnât move soon.
âClark.â You whisper, taking a small step forward. âI trust you. And I- I want this. I want you.â
âNo, you-â
âDonât tell me what I feel.â
He shuts his mouth, still giving you that desperate look. You want to soothe him, but you just hold your ground.
âWill it hurt you?â You ask. âIf you ignore it?â
He nods, tight and controlled.
You steel yourself, even as your nerves start to buzz.
Not with fear.
With excitement.
âThen use me.â You whisper, holding his darkened gaze. âPlease.â
And Clark snaps.
He kisses you so hard you stumble. Knees buckle as Clarkâs fevered lips overtake yours, and your startled squeal only lets him kiss you deeper. Your fingers fly out for something to hold onto, and find only the air.
Clark picks you up like youâre made of feathers, and thereâs something steady about there being no ground at all.
If you were in your right mind, youâd think something about free fall and having no worry if thereâs nowhere for impact. If you can only be caught.
But youâre not in your right mind. Because Clark isnât kissing you like a kiss.
Heâs inhaling you, and itâs already lighting you on fire.
Thereâs a thick arm wrapped around your waist, the other holding your back. A hand wrapped around your neck, angling him to kiss as deeply as he wants. His tongue presses over yours as he walks himself backwards.
You push back, and he moans. Itâs the most beautiful sound youâve ever heard.
Clarkâs back hits the wall, his legs sinking slightly as you make out. Nothing in his hold on you falters. If anything, it tightens. Like even with your open mouth moving against each other, thereâs no way he can get close enough.
You respond to everything he gives you. Clark squeezes the back of your neck lightly, and you hum happily, smiling into the kiss. He grunts, when you thread your fingers through his hair.
He sinks further down, kisses turning short and desperate. He sucks on your lower lip, nipping softly and hauling you further up his body. Your nails dig into his scalp, and he drops his arm on your waist to grab your ass.
âClark-â
âSo- Sorry-â He groans, and you can feel him rolling beneath you, trying to get himself back under control. âYouâre just- So pretty, and- And soft, and-â
He drops fully to the floor, and you start slightly when he rips his mouth from yours, before burying his face in your neck.
âSmell so good.â He almost whines. âSo good.â
You take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself. Youâre the sane one right now. The Clark beneath you is still your Clark, but heâs also a man whoâs in a fugue state of lust. Not the mild, usually level headed, noble little dork you love.
Clark whines, when you run your nails gently against the back of his neck. Heâs almost shaking, kissing and sucking on your neck like he canât even help himself. You donât think he can.
It makes sense why he was avoiding you. This wouldâve been quite the HR violation in the copy room.
âItâs okay.â You coo, kissing the side of his head. âYou can take what you need, Clark, I told you I want it-â
âYou- You canât-â
âDonât tell me what I get to want-â
âNo, you canât.â He detaches himself from your neck, going completely still. His grip on your hips is bruising.
You donât mind at all.
âIâll hurt you.â He mutters, and you sigh.
âWe talked about this-â
âIâll hurt you.â He squeezes his eyes shut, over pouncing each word, and you stare at him for a moment.
You shift in his lap, trying to peer closer, and he hisses. His fingers dig into your sides, and his head slowly bows against your chest. Licking and kissing softly, as if he canât physically stand to be that far from you.
And you feel it.
The literal alien cock pressing against your ass. Youâd think was a stick if you didnât know better.
Oh.
Right.
Clark must hear the way your heartbeat picks up, and put it together. He sighs, warm breath tickling over your breasts.
âI need to get you ready.â
You swallow. âI- Iâm pretty-â You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, and thereâs the familiar tingling ache thatâs always a good sign. âI feel pretty ready-â
Clark grunts. âNot ready enough.â
âHow do you know-â
âNose.â
âNose- Oh.â You flush. He can smell your arousal. âBut thatâs a good thing, right-â
âNot enough.â
He seems reduced to short worded grunts. Youâre not faring much better, but thereâs also a massive man below you that canât stop sucking around your tits.
âCan you⊠Always smell me?â You manage to ask, and he hums.
Thatâs his agreement hum.
Your jaw drops.
âAre you serious-â
âI canât help it.â
âYou- You could wear nose plugs-â
âNo. Like it too much.â
Your thighs squeeze, those deep words shooting straight to your cunt, and Clark groans.
âYou- Canât move-â
âYou should move-â
âWonât hurt you.â He grunts, like heâs making a vow. âJust- Need a second.â
You let out a slow breath, looking up to the ceiling. The idea comes faster than you want to admit, but youâre desperate.
âYou were better when you woke up.â You say causally, stroking your fingers through his hair. âLucid.â
Clark grunts. You smile at the air.
âYou came in bed last night.â
He stiffens slightly. âWet dream.â
âAbout who?â
You feel the ghost of a smile, against your chest. âYouâre very⊠Mouthy. Like this.â
And youâve been told that before. But something about the way Clark says itâlike something heâs measuring, a note heâs jotting down for a pieceâmakes you feel all glowy and stupid inside.
âWow. Mouthy.â You tease. âNot very polite, Clark.â
âThere are other words I couldâve used for it.â He mumbles, and you giggle.
âYeah? Like what?â
Clark draws slowly back, staring at you with those drunken, dark eyes.
âA brat.â
A lot of the fight leaves you, very fast. No ones ever looked at you like that. Like youâre something they want to chew on, carefully and deeply. To leave a mark while keeping every part of you both ruined and intact.
And his voice. Lower than youâve ever heard, and hoarse with desire. You were already a lot woman. This just seals your fate.
âI should jerk you off.â You blurt.
Clark makes a sound like a wounded animal, and drops his brow against yours.
âYou- You canât just say that-â
âBut it will help.â You give him your best, pouty and pleading expression. âYouâll feel better enough to- To get me ready.â You try to keep your voice level, as if youâre not thrilled just to say the words. âAnd then⊠More.â
Clark doesnât answer. He just closes his eyes again, breathing heavily through his mouth. You wait, but you start to get a little worried he didnât hear.
âCan you please look at me-â
âNo.â He grinds out, and you frown. Reach up to cup his face.
âClark-â
âDonât ask me to move.â His words are tight. Pushed through his teeth.
You feel his cocks twitch, near your ass.
âClark.â You make your voice soft. Traced the tensed line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. He whimpers at the touch, and you smile. âItâs okay.â
âI- I need to get you-â
âIâm going to touch you, okay?â
His throat bobs, but he nods. Short and tight.
Enough.
You scoot back, and Clark lowers his legs at a painfully slow pace you accommodate you. Your ass drags over his dick, and he hisses, rutting up.
âSorry-â
âItâs okay.â You say quickly, smiling slightly. âGood preview.â
He looks at you in befuddled exasperation. Opens his mouth like heâs going to snap something else out about you being a brat.
You settle against his knees, and donât give him a chance.
The sound Clark makes when you wrap your hand around his cock is holy. Deep and guttural, like a man already wrecked. You let him sit in your loose grip for a second, watching his chest heave and eyes flutter.
Heâs throbbing under your touch. You can barely hold him with the single hand.
You add a second, and squeeze at the base.
Clark makes another one of those beautiful noises, and grabs your wrist.
âBe- Be careful.â
You pause. âDoes it not feel-â
âFeels good.â He grunts. âToo good. Gonna- Oh, fuck-â
Your mouth falls open. Clark swore.
You started to stroke his cock, and he swore.
And more. You need more. More of his swears, his sounds, his sweat running down his bare chest and the way heâs moaning your name. You need to see him fall apart, because once heâs back in controlâonce this massive dildo of a dick is inside youâyouâre not going to be able to focus on such things.
You set a quick pace. Skin slapping and hot, unraveling him quickly.
Clark calls your name, his hands slamming back to grab at the walls. You watch in awe as his fingers sink into the wood, creating a slot for him to hold onto.
âLike- Like that- Shit.â He tosses his head back, moaning loud and lewd. âYeah, baby, oh- Right there-â
He cuts himself off, rolling his hips up into your touch. You squeeze him again, switching your hands so one can thumb at the weeping slit on his head. Pre-cum leaks all over your fingers, and your lean further down.
You want to taste him.
When you slide off his legsâkeeping your hands workingâClark says your name in a rough, garbled warning.
âWhat- What are you-â
You wrap your lips around the tip of him, flicking your tongue where your thumb had been. Clark makes a sound youâve never heard from anyone before, his free hand flying to grab your neck.
The grip is tight, but painless. Youâre in no danger of pain.
Thereâs something thrilling about how heâs gripping you so possessively. Like a life line.
You drop your hand to play with his balls. Clark bucks up into your mouth, bumping against the back of your throat.
âSorry- Fucking Christ-â
You moan happily around him, drooling lips pushing down further. Your tongue swirls around him, and you suck, bobbing your head up and down. Trying to make him lose control again.
It doesnât take long. Not when you reach up to his hand on your neck, and push it down.
âAre you-â
You moan, and Clark gives in.
He fucks your face like itâs a toy. Cock slipping in and out from between your lips, your spit staining with his pre-cum. Tears prick at your eyes, but you dig your nails into his thighs, refusing to be pulled off.
âLook- Look at you- Holy- Holy shit-â
Clark moans your name, and you let your hand drift back his balls. He slams up at the featherlight touch, and the tears start to flow.
âYouâre so good at this sweetheart, so- So good-â Clark moans, hips thrusting to meet every bob of your head. âYour mouth is so warm, and- And soft-â
You suckle lightly, the praise going right to your core. Your ass is sticking in the air, grinding up into nothing as he uses you.
And you can feel how close he is. His balls are tightening under your fingers, his cock twitching and pulsing, and-
Clark yanks you off suddenly, with one last cry of your name. Before you can protest or try to go back down, you see why.
Heâs cumming.
And heâs not stopping.
Thick white ropes spurt from his dick, and you stare, transfixed. Every time you think he must be done, more comes. When the geyser finally stops, thereâs not a place it hasnât hit.
Clark lets out a shaky breath. You look up to him with wide eyes. He stares back, licking his lips.
âIf you-â
âDo that inside me.â
You speak at the same time again. Clark blinks, leaning back slightly, and you flush.
âI- I mean- Clark-â
He starts to drag you forward, and your words turn into a squeak. Your being manhandled right into his lap, your ass still sticking up in the air and your hands just barely bracing you on the ground.
âI heard you.â He drawls, running a hand over the curve of your ass. âPretty well, actually.â
His hand drags over your exposed core, and you whimper.
âDonât- Donât tease-â
âTrust me.â He mutters darkly. âI wonât.â
Two thick fingers toy at your clit, and you push yourself higher into the air. He knows exactly how to flick that little button, to drive you insane.
âOh- Oh god-â
âIf I had time.â Clark murmurs, almost to himself. âIâd keep you here for the rest of the day. Watch the sweetness drip down your legs,â his fingers trace over your sensitive inner thighs. âLet you make a mess in my lap. Wait âtill youâre begging for it, then touch you,â one, broad finger rubs around your fluttering hole. âNice and slow, until you feel what Iâm dealinâ with right now.â
You moan, gaping at the floor. Clark gets a southern, Kanas drawl when heâs horny. It makes you clench around nothing, and he chuckles.
âOh, you like that.â He presses the tip of his finger in, and you whine. âYeah, I know. Know better than anyone, sweetheart.â
He pushes his hips slightly, forcing your ass higher into the air. Thereâs a rip, and cold air hits your core, making you shiver. His cock, still so hard, bumps against your tummy right as his finger slips into your cunt.
âClaaaark.â You moan, squeezing tight around him.
Youâre rubbing backwards, trying to take him deeper. He splays one hand on your lower back, keeping you from getting what you want while still letting you chase the false hope.
He crooks his finger slightly, twisting it in a circle. You go limp, wrapping your arms around his thigh and pressing your cheek down for support.
âThatâs it.â He mutters. âJust seeing what you need, itâs alright. Shit,â he lets out a sharp breath, cock twitching against you. âYouâre so wet. I- I gotta-â
You hear it start to possess him, and you canât be surprised when he pulls the finger out. Still, you twist to whine at him, maybe try to drag his hand back. Heâs strong, but youâre horny, and thatâs sure to help you somehow.
Instead, you trip on your own hands and collapse back down at the sight before you.
Clark cleaning your arousal off his fingers, eyes closed and face slack like heâs having a fine meal.
You canât look away from it. Itâs the hottest, most lewd thing youâve ever seen. You whimper when he goes back into for more, dragging two fingers between your pussy lips before returning them to his mouth. He does it over, and over, and over again. Sometimes giving a little attention to your clit, like heâs milking you for more.
Youâre a flushed, wiggling mess when he finally pulls his fingers away with a pop. His eyes are wholly black, gleaming with lust and fixed on yours.
Thereâs nothing left of you but putty, when Clark slowly starts to rub your pussy again. Youâre a smeared, wrecked mess that canât stop grinding back onto his hand, and he smiles down at you.
Itâs predatory, but still soft. Exactly what you expect from him now. Pulling out the hair that got stuck in your mouth, all while slowly fingering your cunt.
âWanted to do that for so long.â He coos, pushing two fingers deep inside of you. âYouâd come into the office and start gettinâ wet right next me, I was slobbering like a dog. Thought Iâd lose my mind, every single day.â
His fingers go deeper, bumping against your g-spot. You keen, making an almost unearthly sound from your chest. Clark notices it. Of course he does.
âThere she is.â He mutters, starting to pump his fingers fast. Pushing against the gummy point over and over, until youâre drooling.
Your head has never been this empty during sex before. But youâve also never been put over Clarkâs lap like this. Fingered into oblivion while his dick pushes into your stomach. You start to push upâhe needs attentionâbut Clark pushes you back down with a grunt.
âNeed to be inside you.â He grunts. âNeed you ready.â
Well. If he needs it.
Itâs easy to relax into the feeling. Clark starting to thumb at your clit, rubbing it back and forth like a bop-it toy. Between that and his fingers, Clark is almost pulling pleasure out of you like a machine. It doesnât take long for you to feel like youâre close. Your face his presses into his bare leg, your pussy fully pried open and well touched. You can feel the familiar tension inside you, about to burst.
âClark- Clark-â You donât have the strength to twist, so you scratch at his leg. âI- Iâm gonna-â
âI know.â He mutters, and fuck, you donât doubt him. âWhenever youâre ready, sweetheart. Cum on my hand, let me feel it.â
It only takes a few more moments. Release hits you quickly, and lasts long. Thighs shaking and loud moans escaping your lips as Clark keeps playing with you.
Youâre dazed from the orgasm. Itâs the strongest youâve ever felt, and your cunt is still pulsing when Clarkâs fingers pull away.
âYouâre ready.â He mutters, and you agree with a garbled sound.
He laughs, leaning down to kiss the back of your head as you quiver. He pulls you up into his lap, and you can feel his cock sliding between your folds. Both of your are so slick with everything thereâs no friction. The tension in Clark tells you heâs close to going feral again, but his voice is still sweet.
âJust- Stay like that, beautiful.â He kisses the side of your head. âAnd if it- If anything starts to feel bad, tell me. Iâll stop.â
And you believe him. You know just how much this is affecting him, but you also know heâs Clark. And there isnât a force on earth that could make him hurt you like that.
âCan you- Can you please say youâll tell me-â
âIâll tell you.â Itâs barely more than an exhale.
Clark hears it.
âGood. Good girl.â He kisses your neck this time, and you whimper. âLet me- Canât do it here. Not right.â
Youâre not sure what heâs talking about until youâre airborne. Clark tosses you over his shoulder, holding you steady with one arm around your knees, and you blink at the cum and sweat stained floor. You might have to move, after this.
Maybe Clark could let you live with him.
Too fast. And not the thing to worry about right now.
Get fucked stupid, then think about your living situation and relationship status.
Thatâs a good plan. The best plan.
There really couldnât be a better one, you decide. Not when Clark starts to rub your clit again, using the full pressure of his palm.
âKeeping her ready.â He rumbles, and you hum. Youâre certainly not complaining.
Youâre already close to another orgasm, when he lowers you down onto the bed. Your back hits the mattress, and you immediately reach between your thighs, fondling at your pussy hopelessly. Nothing feels as good as Clarkâs hands. He mightâve already ruined you forever.
âDonât do that.â
Those very hands catch your wrists. You stumble over your breath, when you look up at Clark.
Heâs back into feral caveman mode. Stroking his cock with one hand, the other squeezing yours gently before setting it down at your side.
âI touch you.â He grunts, and you canât argue with that.
You lay down, spreading your legs slowly. In offering. Clark makes that guttural sound, his dick somehow looking like itâs gotten harder. You swallow. Itâs very hard not to touch yourself with a massive, hulking god standing over you and jerking himself off. For Clark, youâre going to try.
Heâs been reduced back to deep noises from his chest and moans of your name, but heâs not making any attempt to move on you. Heâs just⊠Staring.
Stroking his cock, and watching you. Looking between your wet, gaping pussy and flushed face, beating himself into his fist.
He moans, and doubles over. Pumps so fast his hand becomes a blur, and god youâd like him to do that to you later.
His face lands on your inner thigh. Soft stubble grazing the oversensitive area, cold breath pushing against your clit. You grab his hair, back arching off the bed at the taunting pleasure. Clark moans, watching you clench around nothing.
You cry, as his face fully presses into your cunt. Itâs right as he finishes himself off, his cum painting the mattress and covering your ankles.
Clark rises back up, and for a second you just stare at each other.
âDidnât mean to do that.â He rasps, and your lips twitch.
âI liked it.â
He chuckles, shaking his head. âOf course you did.â
Clark falls back over you, kissing you deep and slow. You call tell that the clear-headed affect of the orgasm is lasting for a shorter and shorter time.
And Clark choses to use it, just to kiss you.
He tests the head of his cock up and down your pussy, making sure to push it against your clit before going back down, and starting to slide slowly in. Thereâs almost no resistance, and he hums against your lips.
âGoinâ slow.â He mumbles. âWhile I can.â
You nod. Itâs all you can manage.
He feels just as bigâif not biggerâthan he looked. Never has a cock stretched you so greatly, and so well. The fullness is incomparable, and youâd be worried you couldnât take it if your pussy wasnât greedily swallowing him whole.
âThatâs it.â Clark groans, pushing in every inch so torturously and amazingly slow. Forcing you to feel every single inch. âThereâs you go, just- Just take it- Fuuuck-â
He moans your name, and you kiss him. You want to feel everything he has, vibrating through your chest. Straight into your cunt.
Clark bottoms out, hiding his face in your neck. You blink up at the ceiling, trying to push off more tears. Itâs good, unbelievably good, and your body doesnât know what to do with it.
âTight.â Clark mumbles against you, and you laugh breathily.
âBig.â
He looks up at you, and for a second, you only see Clark. Your best friend, looking out of you, always kinder than he needs to be.
ââm serious.â He says, low and rough. Like a secret. âWhen I call you pretty. When I- When I say I want you-â
You kiss him, and Clark melts into you in a second. You canât stop your smile.
âI know.â You breathe, and he nods.
âLove you.â He pushes in almost an inch deeper, like the words spur him on. âSo much.â
You blink, and his eyes widen.
âThatâs- Um- I donât think I meant to- You feel really good and my brain is soupy-â
Kissing to shut him up will only work so many times. You cover his mouth with your hand, every inch of you feeling alive. From his words, his body, every single inch of this glorious man thatâs somehow, all yours.
âMy brain is soupy too.â You whisper, clenching purposefully around his cock.
Clark grunts, rutting forward. You giggle, and he gives you a dangerous look.
âVery soupy. But,â You beam. âI love you too. And Iâm very serious.â
Clark pauses. Smiles into your hand, eyes shining in the dark. You feel a little like your floating. Youâd like to be rocketed right up to heaven.
âMake me dumb.â You breathe, and Clarkâs shoulders square.
Your hand is knocked away in a second. His mouth attacks yours, and the moment he starts to move, an orgasm is ripped from your very core.
You scream, locking up and clenching around him. Clark moans against your lips, grabbing your knees and pushing them up to your chest. Itâs a deep angle, and you can feel every inch of him, sliding in and out of your cunt. His balls slap near your ass, and his mouth hangs open as he stares down at him.
Heâs fully gone to the red kryptonites effects. Thereâs no question, as he bends you in half and starts to fuck you like a doll. But he still doesnât let his strength slip. You feel completely safe in his hands.
Safe and attended to.
Youâve never fucked a man who makes sure to hit your g-spot so much, and Clarkâs barely even lucid right now. But he drills down into it, moaning your name and making those sinful, beautiful sounds.
Itâs too much for your poor pussy. Two is a lot of orgasms. Three is yourâusualâmax, and thatâs usually with time between. But Clark isnât letting up. And youâre getting close again.
âCla- Clark-â You whine out, and he fucking growls. âClark, Iâm gonna-â
He makes a deep noise of understanding, and starts to fuck you harder. You cry out, grabbing uselessly at the sheets as the next release gushes from your pussy, flying up your spine like ecstasy.
Clark finds his own release there. With you clenching tight around him, writhing with overwhelmed pleasure and moaning his name like a hymn as you come. He throws his head back and starts to fuck like an animal, roaring your name.
He grabs your jaw, demanding your eyes on his. His thumb presses on your lower lip.
Cockdrunk and empty headed, you open your mouth and start to suck.
It feels even better than youâd thought. At first itâs nothing, just painting your walls and sticking so deep inside you, you think it knocks you into another, tiny orgasm. Then itâs more, spurting out of your pussy as he keeps fucking into you. An obscene fountain, staining your ass and thighs.
Then itâs too much. Youâre not sure you can breathe, but the lights dancing on the edge of your vision only add to the euphoria.
Now, itâs everything. Youâre full. So full. You never want to be empty again.
And you donât think Clark would allow that anyway.
Because heâs still fully hard inside of you. And with how heâs staring at you, you donât think thereâs a space of sound mind anymore.
Clark just stares at you, still mindlessly sucking on his thumb and growls.
You giggle as he grabs your hips and flips you onto your stomach. Drags your ass back up into the air and pushes himself back in with a thick moan.
Thereâs a chance that his cum is transferring some of the sexual stamina onto you. Itâs the only possible way you can last this long. Clark fucks into you from behind, kissing up and down your spine as his balls slap against your clit. Your fourth orgasm hits you, and you think you see he stars.
Clark cums again. You donât know how thereâs still possibly space for it, but nature finds a way.
You giggle into the sheets. Clark kisses your shoulder, rutting deeper and deeper into your abused pussy.
He might take your laughter as a challenge. Suddenly youâre being flipped over, and Clarkâs impaling you on his dick once more, forcing you to slide down and feel every inch.
Itâs a good thing you get giggly when you have good sex.
If he sees it as a challenge, youâre ready to lose, over and over and over again.
On Sunday, Clark fucks you through the afternoon and into the night.
There isnât a spot in the apartment that doesnât feel the aftermath. After making you ride him, he clambered over you and held you to his chest, fucking you with just your knees on the bed. After that you ended up on your back, then riding him again, then somehow on the floor. Against the wall. In the doorway, your face pressed against the window, Clark flying and holding you in his lap. By the time the sun was over your head, you were a wordless, dumb mess. Clark had you in a headlock and you were smiling like an idiot, taking his cock over and over again until you think you reshaped each other.
Now, standing in the shower to wash off the everything, you think if you reached down and touched yourself, youâd find Clark completely rearranged your guts to his shape. When youâd looked at him during the soft, quiet cleanup, his cock had certainly looked like youâd molded him to only fit in you.
Itâs an oddly romantic thought.
There are lots of those to go around.
Clarkâs waiting for you in the living room. Heâs been trying to clean, but you donât think thereâs a point.
âI told you Iâm going to have to move,â you joke, and he sighs.
âWell, I- I really tried, but-â He wrinkles his nose. âI think it got in things. When I- Yeah.â He groans. âI can see it.â
âSee it-â
âX-ray vision.â
âOh.â That fun revelation had gotten lost in everything else. Itâs going to take some getting used to.
Clark bows his head, almost in shame.
âSorry I didnât tell you,â he mutters.
You shake your head. âIt fine-â
âI wanted to-â
âClark.â You place a hand on his chest, smiling softly. âItâs okay. Really.â
He blinks at you, then relaxes.
âReally?â He asks anyway, and you nod.
âReally.â You nod to the floor. âI can even start apartment hunting right now.â
Clark laughs at that, and you beam.
Itâs the same. Even after I love yous and the sex marathon, itâs still just Clark. And youâre more lucky to have that, than anything else.
âYou could move in with me.â He suggests quiet and nervous, and your eyes widen.
âI-â
âIf itâs too fast, you donât have to, I- Geez, I havenât even taken you out on a date yet, never mind-â
âClark.â You raise your voice, forcing him to quiet down. âI was thinking the same thing earlier.â
He starts slightly. His lips twitch. âYou were?â
You nod, and he grins like you handed him the sun.
âItâs not- Maybe too fast-â
âMaybe.â You shrug. âBut I- Iâve loved you for years.â You look down to your fingers. âAnd we kind of lived together before. For work. And youâre my friend, first, so if you think itâs fine-â
Clark pulls your own trick. He grabs your face, and shuts you up with a deep, long kiss. You smile, rising up to meet him, and itâs barely been a day, but itâs the most natural thing in the world.
âIâm gonna do it right, though.â Clark says against your lips. âTake you out. Woo you.â
You laugh. âBring it on.â
âŠEnd note: sex pollen fics are so fun i feel like im getting a secondary highâŠ
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DAVID CORENSWET as Jack Castello Hollywood (2020)
ray of sunshine
Superman & Lois by Jonathan Howard.
explicit 18+ cupcakes + cum
asking clark to cum on one of your little birthday cupcakes and to rub his tip in it so some icing gets on his dickâŠâŠheâs like no baby I donât wanna ruin them, theyâre for you and youâre like yeah exactly, theyâre for me. so I want your cum on one of them and so clark sighs but still has a shy little smile on his face when he takes his dick out and starts jacking it right above a cupcake. you guide him through what you want him to do, how you want to make his dick messy and sugary. he follows every order, gliding up and down and back and forth until the whole underside of his length is smeared in the vanilla icing, his dick print blatantly obvious on the smeared cupcake. clark warns you when heâs about to nut and you demand that he aims the tip on the icing of the sweet little treat. his cum drooling out into a little runny pool on the cupcake and his whimpering the entire time heâs riding through the high. then you thank him with a devious laugh and hold eye contact when you grab his dick and the cupcake, taking a bite out of the smooshed cupcake and tasting his cum in the middleâŠ. taking turns going back and forth between the icing stuck on his cock and the sperm drooled all over the sweet birthday treatâŠ.. clark really couldnât help himself but to cum again unexpectedly with your mouth on the underside of his sticky base, whining when you hum and rip your head up to wrap your lips back at the top to catch the thick shots of his load.
itâs easily one of the filthiest activities heâs ever participated in, mixtures of giddy excitement and horny shame swirling inside of him while you continue licking the leftovers of the sugary icing off his dick, closing your eyes like itâs heaven thatâs graced your lips. he swallows and stutters a shaky hâŠhappy birthday sweetie and you hum a long, grateful thank you so much baby
. . .
hhhhhh eating food off his dick
explicit 18+ perv uncut clark teaching how to give head
. . . .
âtake him out then. donât be scared.â
clark bucks his hips, encouraging you to unleash the bulge that had been screaming in his pants. when you keep wide eyeing him from down below, he nods his head and laughs while you continuously look to him for his approval.
âgo on. youâre gonna do a good job baby, donât be scared of him. heâs not gonna bite you.â
every floppy thick inch of skin rolls out, pointing up at his happy trail. you lick your lips when you see the extra skin bunched up at the top with veins throbbing down. he looks massive. intimidating. you couldnât believe he was letting you practice. clark was so happy to be the one to guide you through your very first blowjob.
âitâs not cut so you have more to play with and tease me with,â he says, grabbing hold of his base and showing off the thick oozy tip by pointing it right at your face. clark visually surprises you when he pulls his foreskin down and unveils the pink nubby head. âitâll drive a guy crazy if you lick the tip first then go down from there. here, open your mouth,â he breathes.
you comply with your tongue out, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. clark mutters a thatâs it and guides his tip to the flat of your tongue, his foreskin moving back up to sheathe his tip while he glides it around your mouth. tapping it against your tastebuds. when you wrap your lips around it and gulp, clark doesnât even try to hide his eager gasp, praise leaving his lips while he giddily moves his hips around to drag his tip around your wet tongue.
âmm look at that. youâre a natural.â
âam I?â
âyeah baby, keep going. think you wanna try to take a little more? Iâm going slow, donât worry,â he assures. tucks your hair behind your ears and pats your head. doesnât wait another second until heâs dragging another inch inside your mouth and youâre almost scared that heâs just started and your mouth already feels so full, sensations of his heartbeat pulsing in his dick making you drool a little bit. âthaaaatâs it, thatâs it. tasting your first dick. how is it?â
âitâs big,â you answer with a deep breath, kitten licking the tip after you answer and still going despite clarkâs deep laughter.
âuh huh. I warned you about that, didnât I? but you can do it. I believe in you,â he bites his lower lip and takes his dick to slap it against your open lips. âmmhm. tug the skin at the tip like that, tug it with your teeth then lick it,â he coos. it violently throbs in your mouth when you follow his directions, a little spout of something salty landing on your tongue when you pull the skin back. âohhh. such a good girl, arenât you? thatâs perfect, youâre a quick learner. been hungry for some dick this whole time, havenât you baby?â
nodding your head with your mouth all full, clark hisses and starts to get quicker with the glide of his hips to thrust against your tongue. you taste more of that salty, warm liquid that beads out from his tip when you dug your tongue in through the skin, pinching your brows in at the surprise in flavor and consistency.
he laughs at you again, almost slurring when he softly paws your hair and reads your thoughts without you having to even say anything. âthatâs my pre cum. it happens when you lick the more sensitive parts. itâs a good thing when a guy does that, means youâre making him feel really good.â
you nod your head and suckle again on his skin, dipping your head down a little further to test your gag reflex. clark spreads his thighs out and opens his mouth, staring down with half lidded eyes at you. you gulp around the base and lick against his bulging veins, your fingers experimentally going up to cup one of his balls. clarkâs reaction is almost instantaneous, humming and calling you a good girl and encouraging you to take turns to squeeze each one.
âbaby, that mouthâŠ.â
when clark gets carried away and grabs the back of your head, shoving his cock further down than you were prepared for, your throat gags as a river of drool gets punched out of you and makes his dick even warmer and wetter. your eyes well up as some snot blocks your airways, his dick still greedily pushing in too deep. you hum a loud cry, desperately grabbing onto one of his hips with a hand to scream too big, too much.
clark groans and shushes you with those fingers still running through your hair, still self indulgently deep inside your mouth but still pulling back enough to at least not hit your uvula again. âshhh shh shh, donât throw up, donât spit up on me. you can do it. relax your throat, breathe through your nose for me,â he murmurs. nods his head when you try your hardest to get accustomed to the large intrusion, eyes still blurry with tears while he traces a finger down your jaw. âuh huh. yeah, keep doing that, keepâmmmmhh Iâm gonna put it in a little deep again, âkay?â
you nod your head and hold onto the flexed muscle of one of his thick thighs, the other one palming and rolling his sac like itâs a stress ball.
âthatâs it. this works best when youâre relaxed, youâll get better with practice. you can be honest and tell me if youâre gonna puke okay? itâs alright,â clark breathes.
you pull off and gasp for air while your spit dribbles down his length all the way to his balls. after a minute of bathing in his praise and catching your breath, you go back down to worm your tongue right between the rim of his foreskin, going around and around and around until you taste that same liquid again. while grabbing onto the base you start to stroke what you can, paying hot attention to that tip and pulling back to the top to drag your tongue in a french kiss.
as clark watches you bob your throat and suckle up his saggy full balls, he thinks he never wants to let anybody else defile your mouth like this. thinks he might just have to threaten any other guy that tries to come onto you like he has, hold you tight and suffocate you until youâre trained to be his forever.
his gruff moans of your name are long and loud, buzzing through the walls. when he slowly drags his cock out and back in, kissing the back of your throat, you canât help your inexperienced gags still thumping after every deep hump.
ârelax that throat, remember? shh, shh youâll get used to it after I do this more,â he promises. âif you puke on my dick itâs okay, itâs okay, just make sure you donât stop.â
clark swallows the same way you do. he wipes your tears with his thumb and makes you gag so hard you think youâre really about to spit up around his dick and choke until heâs yanking it out and whimpering out noise that resembled your name. next thing you know heâs jacking it and keeping just his drippy tip to the roof of your mouth and then spills his thick cum load. his sounds were heavenly, the wet way it sounded when he spurt against your tongue and fed it down your throat.
âgood girl! my sweet girl, swallow it all, take it. take your milk, mmm youâre so pretty with your tongue out,â clark shouts, voice gradually getting weaker as he roughly slapped his leaky foreskin against your lips while thicker stray drops from his nut splat on your face. âjeez, this dirty mouthâŠ.â
you close your eyes and rest your face down on the fat base of his cock while itâs still hard, curling up to the left against his hip. âsleepy already? donât wannaâŠ. spread these legs for me and get a little reward?â
you hum and nuzzle up against him even closer when you feel his hand drift down to your clit. legs automatically opening up to welcome him. âhere, let me give you my best âthank you. just promise me now that youâll only be taking these kinds of lessons from me.â
. . . .
so Iâm sorta obsessed with perv clark not even caring if a girl pukes on his dick as long as he still gets that neck
part two





