Sweet Lessons (part 5)
series masterlist
clark kent x inexperienced!reader
clark wants to taste you
smut | oral f!receiving | a little angsty in the beginning | jealousy
You’d thought it would be sweet, thoughtful. A surprise.
The bakery box was warm in your hands as you pushed open the door to the Daily Planet. Clark had been pulling insane hours, and you figured the least you could do was bring him something fresh out of the oven. Blueberry muffins, his favorite. You imagined the way his face would light up when he saw you, how he’d lean back in his chair and grin that wide, dimpled grin before pulling you close.
But then you saw him.
He wasn’t alone.
Clark was leaning against the edge of his desk, sleeves rolled up, that boyish smile on his face. And standing much too close was a blonde intern, laughing at whatever he’d said, flipping her hair over her shoulder like something out of a rom-com. She touched his arm as she laughed, and your stomach turned.
You froze. The box in your hands felt suddenly heavy, ridiculous.
You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you didn’t need to. She was leaning in, smiling up at him like he was the only man alive. And Clark? Clark was smiling back. Easy, warm, the same smile that melted you every time.
Your chest went tight.
You didn’t go inside. You didn’t call his name. You just turned around, walked out, and left the muffins in the nearest trash bin before heading home.
You hadn’t planned on keeping it from him. Really, you hadn’t. But every time Clark called, every time he smiled at you like nothing was wrong, the words shriveled in your throat.
So instead you stewed. For days.
By the time you were curled up on his couch again, pretending to be engrossed in the movie playing on the TV, Clark had clearly had enough.
“You’ve been weird,” he said flatly.
“I’m not weird,” you mumbled, eyes fixed on the screen.
“Sweetheart.” His voice was softer now, but firm. “You’re barely talking to me, you barely look at me. Something’s wrong. What is it?”
You shook your head quickly. “It’s stupid.”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s stupid. If it’s got you this upset, I want to know.”
His hand slid over yours, warm and steady, and that was all it took for the knot in your chest to loosen. You bit your lip, staring down at your lap.
“I came by the Planet the other day,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
Clark’s brows knit. “What? When?”
“Tuesday,” you admitted. “I… I brought muffins. I thought it would be nice. But when I got there…” you swallowed hard. “You were talking to her.”
His frown deepened. “Her?”
“The blonde intern,” you whispered, heat crawling up your neck. “She was laughing and she touched your arm, and you were smiling. I thought…” Your voice cracked, embarrassment rushing through you. “I thought maybe you liked her. So I left.”
For a moment, the room was silent. Then Clark exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face like he was trying to steady himself.
“You really think I’d let some intern flirt with me and not think about you?” he asked, his voice low, rougher than you’d ever heard it.
“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, tears stinging your eyes. “I know it’s dumb, I just-”
He cut you off, voice low and firm. “I was being polite. That’s it. She’s an intern, I was answering her questions.”
“You were smiling at her,” you whispered, hating how small you sounded.
Clark’s eyes softened, and he shifted closer, cupping your jaw so you couldn’t look away. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, “I smile at everyone. But don’t you dare think for a second I’d want her. Or anyone else. Not when I’ve got you.”
Something hot and humiliating burned behind your eyes. “You don’t-”
He kissed you, cutting off the protest, slow and grounding. When he pulled back, his gaze was molten.
“You have no idea, do you?” His thumb brushed your lower lip. “No one makes me lose my mind like you do. No one.”
Your breath hitched.
He leaned in, voice dropping to a husky whisper against your ear. “Let me prove it. God, please let me taste you.”
Your whole body went hot. “Clark—”
He kissed you again, deeper this time, easing you back against the couch until you were beneath him, your head spinning.
“Tell me yes,” he breathed, lips ghosting over your neck. “Tell me you’ll let me show you how much I want you.”
And the word slipped out before you could stop it.
“Yes.”
The second the word left your lips, Clark was tugging you down into the cushions, spreading your thighs apart like he’d been waiting forever for this moment.
“Been wanting this for so long,” he murmured, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of your leg. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about tasting you.”
Your breath came uneven, heart pounding. “You’ve been in your head, sweetheart,” Clark murmured, pressing a kiss just above your knee. “Let me fix that.”
“Clark,”
“Shh.” He kissed higher. “I’m gonna take such good care of you.”
Your shorts and underwear were gone before you even realized he’d eased them down, and suddenly you were bare under the heat of his stare. His pupils were blown wide, lips already wet from kissing down your skin.
“God,” he groaned, almost to himself. “You don’t know what this does to me.”
You squirmed under the intensity of it, but then he leaned in and dragged his tongue flat up your slit and all thought shattered.
You gasped, hips jerking, and his grip tightened on your thighs. “That’s it,” he rasped, licking you again, slower this time, savoring every second. “So sweet for me. Fuck.”
Your hand flew to the couch cushion, fingers clawing at the fabric, and Clark chuckled against you, the sound vibrating through your whole body.
“Sensitive, huh?” He latched onto your clit, sucking lightly until your back arched. “Yeah, that feel good, baby? You just relax and let me play.”
You whimpered, hips shifting helplessly, and his hands pressed you down, holding you steady while his tongue circled, flicked, licked until you were trembling.
“Hold still for me, baby.” he coaxed, pinning your hips down with a firm grip. He muttered between licks, voice filthy and possessive. “No one gets to have you like this. Just me. Only me.”
“Clark-”
“Say it,” he demanded, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, his mouth shiny with you. “Say you know it’s only me.”
Your face burned, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “It’s only you.”
His groan was low, guttural, before he buried his face back between your thighs, devouring you like he hadn’t eaten in days. He licked deeper, tongue teasing your entrance before sliding up to swirl over your clit again, relentless and perfect.
Heat pooled low and fast. He flattened his tongue and circled you, pressing just enough pressure to make your thighs tremble. “Look at you,” he groaned. “So loud for me. So good for me.” His praise was rough, claiming. “Come on my mouth. Come for me.”
The pressure built so fast it scared you, your whole body bowing up against him. “I—I can’t—”
“Yes you can,” he growled, not letting up. “You’re right there, sweetheart. Give it to me. Come on my tongue.”
Your cry broke sharp, helpless, as the orgasm ripped through you, shaking and gasping, thighs clamping tight around his head. He didn’t stop. He rode you through it, tongue still working, sucking, until you were writhing from the overstimulation.
Finally, he slowed, gentling the strokes, kissing softly over your swollen clit, your thighs, your hipbones. Then he crawled up your body, pressing a lingering kiss to your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
“You believe me now?” he whispered against your mouth. “That I’d never want anyone else?”
Your head lolled back, still dizzy, and all you could do was nod.
Clark chuckled, brushing a damp curl off your forehead. “Good girl,” he said softly. “Because I’m never letting you forget it.”