summary: Not even Superman can ignore the haunting sound of a Siren call. It is easy to reel him in and capture him in your grasp. But it is your turn to be mislead when you realize he doesn’t drown. Instead, now you are stuck with the most frustrating problem of all: a lovesick man who refuses to leave you alone.
content warnings: mentions of drowning, violence, mean!reader, pushy!Superman, obsessive!Superman, mention of readers hair twice, reader is bare chested in this
word count: 1.9k+
pairing: siren!female!reader x Superman
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The night was thick with fog as the moon hid behind the clouds. The ocean stretched an endless black around you. It was the kind of night that made sailors uneasy but let you thrive.
You sat perched on a jagged rock a little ways away from shore. The haunting tune of your song rolled off your tongue easily as it was soft and sweet. While your voice carried across the waves it was almost impossible to ignore. It always worked. Always drew them in.
Tonight wasn’t any different. A dark figure cut through the fog above as your eyes narrowed. Your head tilted, your song continuing. It wasn’t a ship this time. It would be impossible for it to be a fisherman, but still the figure approached. You thought your eyes were deceiving you as a man floated above the ocean.
Curiosity overtook you. A flying man? You had seen some strange things in your life, but you weren’t sure if you had ever something like this. He was broad shouldered with a red cape flowing behind him. His face was handsome in a way that even made you blink.
But you still sang louder. The sound of your voice threaded around him as it tugged at him like a net. His flight slowed slightly before he descended and his boots landed on the rock.
Once he stood above you, you smiled. He had fallen right into your trap, or so you thought. “Hi,” you smile.
His pupils were wide, his expression soft, as if drunk on the sound of you. You slid into the water as your scales caught the faint moonlight when your tail swept behind you. You reached for him with soft hands, your voice dripping with sweetness. “Come with me.”
And he did. As soon as he entered the water, you wrapped yourself around him with eased practice. You dragged him under, your claws sharpening around him and tail wrapping around him to pull him deeper. It was a routine at this point, except for the part where he didn’t thrash. Or choke. Or even sink.
Instead, his eyes were open underneath the waves as he looked at you with a calm expression. His lips even curved into a smile, his eyes hooded with the familiar look of being lovesick. Your felt his hand wrap around yours even as you struggled miserably to pull him down.
Your eyes widened. This wasn’t right, it’s never how it went. No one survived this. You snarled, anger growing inside of you as you pressed harder. But it was useless. His chest didn’t heave for air. His body didn’t strain. He was completely unmovable even after you pulled as hard as you could.
And then, his smile turned into a small laugh under the water as air bubbles escaped his mouth. In shock, you loosen your grip just for him to tighten his on you. He didn’t use much force, just pure ease as he pulled you closer as your torso pressed into him.
You immediately resurfaced as you gasped in fury. A million emotions buzzed through you as his head popped up next to yours in the rough waves.
“You’re supposed to-“
“Drown?” He finishes, the warm smile still on his lips. “Yeah, I understand the confusion.”
You could barely think of words to say as you squirmed out of his grasp, distancing yourself. To your relief he let go easily. Your chest heaved as you felt so many emotions. Anger, confusion, even humiliation. Like you had been the one tricked and now he was just here mocking you.
“You were supposed to die.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” he grins.
“Get away from me,” you growl, but you couldn’t force yourself away yet. This was too shocking. You watch as he ends up on the rock again, his cape dripping with salt water as he attempts to ring it out. His dark curls are now damp as it lightly falls over his forehead.
“But I haven’t even gotten your name yet,” he teases. A wave of red crashes over you before you dive under the waves and disappear into the dark water. Your head swirls with ideas of what he could be. Maybe a demon, sent here to in turn destroy you.
The next night was quiet as you lay draped over the same rock. Salt water glistened over your bare chest as your tail fell over the side of the rock, flicking it gently against the soft waves. Your eyes were half-lidded in comfort as you finally began to let your deflated ego rest from the event the day prior.
Until you heard that voice.
“I was hoping I’d find you here.”
You nearly groaned. Turning your head just enough to glance over your shoulder, you saw him again. Broad-shouldered, dark hair, that annoying grin, and the red and blue outfit he dressed in. The man, or thing, rather, that should have been just another easy kill. Another fool that was easily lured beneath the waves. It was like he was taunting you now, really.
“You’re persistent,” you mutter, flicking your tail in the water which sent a splash toward him. He hovered, not even flinching.
He chuckled slightly, a hand scratching the back of his neck. “Can you blame me? I’ve been all over the world but I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Your jaw clenched as you wanted to attempt to drag him under yet again, but you knew it would be no use. “I tried to kill you.”
“Yeah, I noticed. How did that work out?”
The audacity.
You turned away, lying across the rock once more with your back to him. “You should leave. There’s nothing for you here.”
Your instincts flared to knock him away from you with your tail as he landed on your rock. But it would just be even more humiliating the second he wouldn’t budge.
“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to sing, or lure me in, or… whatever it is you do. I just want to be here. With you,” he tells you, his voice slightly softer now.
You couldn’t bear to be near him any longer as you slipped into the water. For some reason, you didn’t swim away though as you glare up at him as the waves lap over your bare shoulders.
“What is that ridiculous thing you are wearing?” You ask.
He grins that annoying smirk as he glances down once.
“It’s more of a work uniform,” he says after a moment, glancing back down to your face as you easily tread even in the rough waves. “I think I like your outfit even more.” He smirks.
That comment pisses you off to no end. You scoff, your blood boiling. But the only thing you can do is disappear into the ocean. An attempt at slapping him would probably only amuse him.
The next night, you had picked a new spot in order to get some peace. It was all the way across the ocean, somewhere you hadn’t been in a while. You almost jumped out of your skin at the sight of him hovering.
“How did you find me?” You snap, preparing to slip back into the water.
“I- uh- I’m sorry,” he starts. “I know what I said was creepy. I don’t usually talk in such a way.” You give him a glance before turning your head again. After a moment, he inches forward in the air.
“I brought you something, if that’s okay,” he tells you.
He holds out his hand to reveal a shell in his palm. You roll your eyes. In his defense, it was a violet snail shell that was fairly rare. You had only seen a couple in your life even living permanently in the ocean. But you couldn’t let him know that.
“I live in the ocean,” you say blankly. “You think I need another shell?”
His face fell for only a moment before it lit up again in that annoying warm smile. “Okay, fair. Tomorrow I will bring you something else.”
You ignored his comment as he still held out the shell. You took it from him, dropping it into the water as it sunk to the bottom. A wave of familiar satisfaction washed over you at the thought of hurting his feelings, but his expression didn’t change.
He presses on, this time trying compliments. “You know, your eyes catch the moonlight like-“
“Don’t,” you growl.
“And your tail, it shimmers more beautiful than-“
“I said don’t.”
“- any treasure I’ve ever seen.”
Your eyes snap back to him as you want to grab him and hold him under just to make it stop. Having to deal with a man and not being able to drag him to his death was torture.
“I could just rip your throat out,” you hiss. “You’re insufferable.”
But the grin he has held that has began to drive you mad is still on his face. “And yet you still haven’t left.” You open your lips to say something but quickly close them after you realize you don’t have anything. So you just sit in silence instead, ignoring the way his eyes stay on you.
That night after he left, you dove into the waves and darted to the ocean floor, searching for the shell he had brought that you discarded. Your chest let out a sigh of relief as you spotted it and picked it up. It worried you to know you wanted to keep it, but you just blamed it on its rarity for now.
The fourth night, you sat on a rock as you combed your hair with a piece of coral. He of course showed up like he had been, floating behind you as you tried to ignore him. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“What?” You snap.
He only grinned. “Just admiring the view.”
Your chest burned in familiar annoyance as you threw the piece of coral you were holding at his head. It bounced harmlessly against his temple as he didn’t even flinch, just continued to grin.
“I brought you something else,” he tells you, lowering back down to the rock as he places a decent sized fish in front of you.
Your eyes narrow as you are tempted to push it off the rock. Before you can say anything, he adds something else. “For humans, men usually will treat women to dinner. I thought I’d take the task of having to get your own food off of your plate tonight.”
Your chest burned with an unfamiliar feeling before quickly pushing it away.
“What if I don’t eat fish?”
He pauses for only a moment. “What do you eat then?”
“Men.”
Your response makes him laugh, causing a shiver to run down your spine at the sound. It takes everything in you to force away the grin from your lips.
Suddenly, his hands gently press against you as he slowly nudges you into the water. Out of surprise, you fall under the surface for only a second before resurfacing quickly. You are about to lash out at him before you notice he is stripping off the suit he wore.
You try not to stare as he undresses to only underwear. You glance away as he slips in the water next to you, grinning at you as the both of you easily tread water about a foot away from each other.
You finally look at him again as your eyes meet his blue ones. The way he looks at you makes your stomach coil deep inside of you.
“What even are you?” You ask, your voice softer than you meant it to come out.
“Kryptonian. I come from a different planet, so technically I’m not human. The yellow sun gives me my powers.”
You are silent for a minute as you avoid his gaze again.
“And the suit?”
He briefly glances to the rock before back to your face. “I wear it when I save people. Usually, I try to blend in with other humans in my day to day life. But when the world needs me I am Superman.”
You are tempted to laugh at that. Tease him about the name, the suit, his duty to save people. But for some reason you can’t bring yourself to do it.
“So you must think I’m horrible, then,” you say quietly after a moment.
You swear he has gotten a little closer as your tail brushes against one of his legs every now and again.
“No, I don’t think you’re horrible,” he says softly. His voice sounds sincere, like he really meant that. “Why do you do what you do? Is it instinct?”
You look down at the water between you. “I guess. It’s what I’ve always known to do.”
One of his hands comes above the water to push a piece of wet hair behind your ear.
“Tell me your name,” he says quietly.
**part 2 is posted :)
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notes: Hehe this was fun 🥰🧜♀️ I swear everything I write has the potential to turn into a multiple part story. Idk how to feel about it
summary: Clark Kent doesn’t know what he has gotten himself into after agreeing with you that he likes it rough as well, knowing he naturally was an awkward guy. But he knew he could never pass up the opportunity to be with you so he tries his best to take you roughly in his own sweet, clumsy way.
Clark doesn’t exactly know how he managed to get you in this position. One moment, he was honestly over the moon that a girl as beautiful as you was giving him the time of day. The next, his whole body shuddered as he read the text from you.
I like it rough, Clark Kent :)
All he could remember is sitting on his own couch, his eyes widened as he began to panic. He immediately opened Google and began to type away.
How to talk dirty to women.
How to talk dirty to women + without being overly disrespectful.
How to be dominant.
And despite the way his heart pounded, he managed to get through a few sexts that were utterly ridiculous and awkward on his end. He was even more surprised when you asked to see him.
When you had first arrived, you half expected him to attack you with kisses when he opened the door, shoving you against the wall roughly. But he didn’t. Instead, you just got that half grin that you loved so much as he greeted you and stepped aside to let you in.
The walk down the hall to his bedroom was quiet and honestly felt like a walk to the restaurant on a first date rather than a path that two adults were making before hooking up. He awkwardly sat on the edge of his bed as you climbed onto it, smiling softly as you tried to make conversation. He carefully took off his glasses and set them down gently onto his night stand, opening the drawer.
“I’m on the pill, in case you were worried about something like that,” you tell him casually as you pull off your sweater. His eyes widen as his hand freezes over the box of condoms (which he had just purchased that afternoon) before quickly shutting the drawer.
Now, he had you in a place he never imagined putting any woman in. Your face smashed into his mattress, ass in the air, and his hand pressing into the back of your head to hold you down. To him, he assumed he did everything wrong. But the noises coming from you surprised him even as he stuttered through this with no clue.
“O-oh Clark,” you hum, your lips in a lazy smile as his swollen cock literally feels like he’s kissing your womb with every thrust. You always lucked out and knew how to pick them: sweet, nerdy, and huge.
She likes it rough. Talk dirty to her. He reminds himself.
“Yeah?” He forces it out, honestly captivated by the way your warm walls squeeze his sensitive cock. “You like that, you naughty little thing?”
Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you find his word choice a little odd, but the way he fills you doesn’t leave much room for thinking. You nod against the mattress as a breathy moan passes your lips.
“Mhmm,” you hum, his hips moving at the perfect rhythm to keep you feeling absolutely dumb.
His sweaty palm continued to hold the back of your head against the mattress. His other hand was gripping your hip so tightly out of nerves that when he realized and loosened it, there was a red mark already forming. He was about to apologize frantically until you let out another string of incoherent whines.
“You’re… Gosh, you’re so good,” his voice is ragged and breathless as his hips continue to fall into you, your skin slapping together as the bed frame groans.
Your lips part, heart clenching at how sweet he is. “Clark… you’re wrecking me.”
Your words send heat flooding right into his lower stomach. His lips part, mind spinning as he tries desperately to remember anything from his frantic Google searches. “Yeah? You like being wrecked by me?” His words come out choppy and clumsy, but the way you gasp and grip his sheets with your fingers make his cock twitch deep inside you. A raw moan escapes his chest as his hips slow slightly, almost like he was holding back for enjoying it too much.
“I’m so close,” you cry. “Harder, p-please Clark.”
He swears your words alone could make him collapse as his head spins. He was able to make you close? This must be a dream. His grip tightened again on your hip as he tried to steady himself, thrusting into you with the kind of smacks that could be heard in the apartment next to his. It was harder this time, deeper, as your eyes rolled back. Your pussy wraps around him so tightly as he manages to hit the spongey part of you each time.
The desperation of your breathless cries against the mattress sent a shiver racing through him. His hand moved from gripping your hip to one of your ass cheeks, squeezing it hard, almost testing, before bringing his hand down with a sharp smack that echoed in his small room. You jolted with a gasp which caused him to freeze immediately.
“Oh gosh- I’m so sorry, I- did that hurt? Did I hurt you?”
His panic was so genuine that you had to bite back a small laugh. “No, I liked it. Do it again.”
Something inside of him seemed to snap. His hand came down again, this time harder. The sting of the contact mixed with the way he easily stretched your pussy melted together in the most perfect way.
“Clark- I’m! Oh God, I’m gonna-“
His thrusts grew slightly erratic as he continued to pour into you. Your walls fluttered around him as you began to drag him right to his edge as well.
“Please, just let go for me. I- I need you to cum for me,” he stammers as you can’t hold back anymore.
Your pussy clenched so tightly around him it almost knocked the air out of him. Your back arched, your face twisting against the sheets you were being pressed into as you let out raw, high pitched cries.
Finally, you release, coating his cock as your walls spasm around him in relentless pulses. The wetness gushed down his length and part of your thighs with every contraction.
Clark was wide eyed above you, watching in awe as his thrusts became sloppy. You whimpered into the mattress at the way his cock kept hitting that devastating spot deep inside of you as you tried to ride out the aftershocks. He was close too.
He paused inside you, balls pressed right against your skin, making the most guttural sound as his warm juices spilled into you. You panted as you felt the sudden flood of warmth in your cunt. Clark’s grip around your head turned shaky, almost gentle in a way, but he didn’t fully stop holding you down until the last few spurts wrung themselves out of him. He stayed buried deep inside of you for a moment before pulling out of you slowly.
He collapsed onto his bed, eyes in a daze as reaches for you. He pulls you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your head before realizing he wasn’t sure if you would like that.
But you didn’t squirm or even tense as you settled against him.
summary: Lois Lane and Clark Kent have been together for years. They are a solid couple who share everything, even dreams. For Lois, one dream she can’t shake is the longing for a woman’s touch alongside the man she loves. After months of searching and disappointment, they finally meet you. What begins with shy smiles over drinks soon turns into late night dinners that eventually turn into a night none of you will ever forget.
content warnings: smut, poly relationship, established relationship between Lois and Clark, bisexual Lois Lane, bisexual reader, wlw, fingering of reader, some fluff, p.i.v sex, kissing, reader’s hair mentioned twice, first time poly relationship, minimal physical description of reader, some fluff, aftercare
word count: 2.9k+
pairing: clois x female!reader
***I am a slowburn loving and detailed writer through and through. If you just want to read the smut scroll down until you see these hearts: ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
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It wasn’t like Lois Lane and Clark Kent needed anyone else in their relationship. They had been together for years, deeply in love and built a bond most people couldn’t even dream of.
Lois had always been honest with Clark about who she was, as he could be with her. The truth about her was a little more mild than being a world saving alien from another planet, she was just bisexual. She adored every part of Clark but something inside her ached for something softer and different. She was sure it could only be soothed by the touch of another woman.
At first, the idea of adding a third had been nothing but a late night conversation. Clark had been drawing lazy circles against her bare skin after sex. Between tangled sheets and tossed around pillows, she looked up to him and asked him without hesitation.
“What are your thoughts on adding a third?” She asked.
Clark, who was cautious in the same way in everything he did, was confused at first. He was slow to warm up to the thought. But over time he saw that Lois’ yearning was genuine and began to understand what she was getting at. She didn’t dream of replacing anything that they had, but instead only wanted to enhance it. Just add someone who could share the kind of love they built.
So their search began. The tips of Clark’s ears burned at the thought of being put on a dating app. It wasn’t like he needed any more attention on Clark Kent than absolutely necessary, especially with something like this. Being from a small town in the Midwest, he was still trying to get used to the thought of a nontraditional relationship like this.
Eventually, he agreed to it under the condition Lois didn’t show his face in their profile.
Months passed of Lois scrolling through their dating apps with no luck. She had even convinced Clark to go to these events around the city designed for couples to find their “unicorn”.
“They have those?” Clark asked, a look of bewilderment on his face. But of course he agreed due to the natural nature of wanting to make Lois happy.
The nights usually consisted of forced smiles and silent walks back to their apartment. Clark’s hand gently stroked her back, trying to find the words to comfort her as he could tell she was more disappointed than she led on.
Although Clark was skilled at holding a calm, comforting demeanor, deep down he felt disappointed too. He reassured Lois that someone who was meant for them was out here as he slowly began to crave that person a little more.
Lois had been curled up on the couch with Clark one night. A half empty glass of wine rested in one hand as she scrolled on her phone with the other. She told herself she wouldn’t spend too long on the app tonight and she wasn’t going to get her hopes up. She just wanted to scroll for a while, maybe distract herself before they went to bed.
And then she stumbled across your profile. Her thumb froze mid scroll, her breath catching in her throat. God, you were gorgeous. Genuine, striking, with a smile that made Lois’ heart stutter. You were younger than both of them. She scrolled down to read a little more of your profile. Attending a university downtown, from Massachusetts, open to getting to know people and seeing where it leads.
It seemed to be a standard dating app profile until her eyes landed on a word that made her heart stop. Bi.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice sharp enough to make Clark glance down at her where he was lazily flipping through the channels.
“What is it?” he asked, brow raised.
Lois smacked his arm, practically bouncing upright. “Look at her, Clark. She’s… she’s perfect. And she’s bi!” Her words came from her mouth in a rush, breathless and eager, her excitement filling the room.
Clark glances down at the phone screen. His heart skips at the picture of you, but he had to swallow. He wanted to say that doesn’t mean she’s looking to walk into an established relationship and become a throuple, but his heart doesn’t allow himself to say that to Lois.
He just nods, his eyes still on her screen. “Pretty,” he says simply.
“Pretty? Pretty, Clark, seriously? She’s fucking hot,” she grins. “Tell me the last time you saw someone like her around here.”
Clark glances at her choice of language but can’t hold back the small grin on his lips. He goes back to the tv as the sounds of Lois’ eager fingers tap out a reply quicker than he had ever seen her text. He wouldn’t allow himself to get his hopes up too high.
A couple days pass as Lois sulks around. No reply from you. Every time her phone buzzed, her heart would leap only to sink again when it wasn’t you.
One night, Clark was just about to take her phone from her hands to give her some attention before she shot up from the couch.
“She replied!” She squealed.
From that point on, it was easy. Conversation flowed like you’d known each other longer than a handful of messages. Flirty jokes and playful banter came from Lois as your replies were warm but slightly bashful. It honestly clicked so naturally that after about a week, you’d agreed to drinks with both her and Clark.
The first night you met in person, Lois had been bracing herself for disappointment. Most of the women they’d seen before drifted toward Clark first but how could she blame them? He was tall, impossibly handsome, with a soft, gentle smile that made people melt. Lois loved him for it but it always stung when she felt like an afterthought in what was supposed to be their search.
You were different. You noticed Clark of course (you’d have to be blind not to) but you seemed to naturally gravitate toward Lois. She saw it in the way yours eyes lingered on her, or the way you laughed at her jokes, or how you leaned in subtly closer when she spoke. Clark was kind and easygoing, and you clicked with him too, but with Lois? There was a spark neither of you could deny.
Drinks turned into dinners. Dinners turned into more nights out and more excuses to be near each other. Eventually, nights out turned into nights in, until one evening, you found yourself in their apartment, straddling Lois’ lap on the couch as her mouth claimed yours that left you dizzy.
The different between Clark and Lois was huge. It wasn’t just their personalities, but also the way they did everything. Lois’ kisses felt like she was clinging to you like you were the last person on earth. Her mouth was feverish and needy as she stole every sound from your throat. Her soft hands always roamed your body, squeezing, caressing, and pulling you closer.
Clark was different. He was gentle and more slow. His rougher hands held you like you were something fragile and precious. Making out with him was passionate and still breathtaking just the same.
Lois’ lips continued to attack yours as you gently pull away, your breath heavy. “I feel bad,” you say against her mouth as she presses her lips to yours again. “Shouldn’t we help him clean up?”
Lois ignores you at first as a smirk creeps onto her lips. She attaches her mouth to your neck, pressing kisses there now.
Clark heard you, of course, his enhanced hearing picked up every word. From the kitchen he glanced over, catching the sight of Lois’ hands tangled in your hair as her mouth was red and swollen from kissing you. Desire pooled in his chest, heat climbing as he tried to ground himself by glancing back down at the plate he had.
“No way” she says slowly against your skin, this time nipping at the spot under your ear. “He doesn’t mind. And needs some time to get used to this.”
After a few minutes of making out with Lois, Clark now joins the both of you in the living room as he sits down on the couch.
Lois tosses you into his lap as his arms circle around you gently. You aren’t sure if you’d ever be able to be passed around without a wave of desire washing over you.
Clark’s hands are more soothing than Lois. One rests on your hip as he presses a kiss to your hair. You are still out of breath.
Lois can’t seem to bare being without your touch for long. She crawls over to the two of you as her hands rest on your thighs.
“Stay the night?” She asks, her eyes hopeful. “It’s already late.”
You blink as you feel the heat flare inside of you. You had never spent the night before, and Clark seems to be just as taken back as he tenses slightly under you.
“Okay,” you whisper, nodding.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
That night you lay in their bed, sandwiched between their bodies. Clark’s arm is wrapped around your waist as Lois kisses at your shoulders and neck. She has forced herself to calm down, knowing it was a new experience for all of you.
“We’ve talked about this. A lot. Clark and I… we’ve both thought about what it would be like to be with you in that way. And Gosh, we’re excited. Like, ‘pinch me, is this real’ excited.” Her laugh was breathless, but then her voice softened. “But there’s no pressure. Not tonight. Not ever. You don’t owe us anything. We’re just so happy you’re here with us.”
You smile gently at her as Clark gently rubs his thumb against the skin of your hip. He leans in, bis breath warm on your neck as he nods slightly.
“We’ve been looking for you for so long,” his voice is deep as it sends a shiver down your spine. “But only if you want this and are comfortable. You don’t have to decide anything tonight.”
You turned slightly, caught between the way Lois’ eyes burned into yours and the safety of Clark’s embrace. Your lips parted before you could stop yourself. “I want this. I want both of you.”
Eventually, you found yourself pressed against the mattress as both of their hands explored your body. Your clothing was slowly stripped away piece by piece as you felt like you were on fire.
Your breathing caught after your legs were coaxed open by Lois. Her thumb gently parted your slits as she found your clit. You hummed softly as Clark watched in awe, holding onto you.
A delicate finger slipped inside of you as Lois’ breath caught at how slick and tight you felt around her. You bit your lip, letting a moan escape your lips before Clark’s warm mouth presses into yours.
Lois watched as she pumped her finger in and out of you. You lying there, bare skin, beautiful tits, completely open for her. The way her man hushed you by claiming your mouth with his own sent a shiver down her spine. She eventually added a finger which caused you to twitch around her.
Lois’ fingers were skilled, using your sounds and subtle movements to get you right where she wanted you. They curled gently inside of you.
Clark eventually pulled away, his blue eyes now dark with a desire you haven’t seen before as he kisses your neck.
“So perfect,” his voice is low and gravely.
“That’s it beautiful, go ahead and cum for me,” Lois says softly.
Lois watches as you orgasm for the first time with her. Your thighs twitch, back arching slightly as you let out a small cry. It was nothing like a porn scene, instead this beautiful display of love and pleasure as you creamed around her fingers.
Your chest heaved up and down quickly as you watched Lois bring her fingers to her mouth. Clark sits up slightly as he grabs her wrist and brings it to his mouth.
“Hey,” Lois says, laughing lightly as he wraps his lips around her two fingers. “That’s mine that I worked for.”
You feel like you could just die under them, your chest fuzzy with slight embarrassment as you can’t help but let out a small giggle.
Lois leans down to capture your lips in hers. She presses against you as your hands find her hair. Slowly, your hands begins to trail down her body as they try to undo her pants.
She shakes her head, removing her lips from yours as they press against your neck. “No. Tonight is about you.”
Clothes fall away easily as Lois and Clark take turns kissing you. You can barely catch your breath before a new set of lips is on yours.
Eventually, Lois moves so she is under you. Your bare back presses into her naked chest, her tits against your soft skin. Her hands find your hips as she adjusts you so your ass is pressed right into her.
Her lips find your shoulder, kissing your bare skin. But you can barely even notice the small kisses at the way Clark’s eyes burn into your naked body.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Lois whispers into your ear before placing a kiss there. “You have no idea how perfect you are to us.”
Your breath catches as Clark finally gets his boxers down, his hard, throbbing cock finally free. Your eyes widen at his size. He was huge.
“So pretty,” he mutters, his eyes glazed over as they run over your body. You pussy glistens as Lois has your thighs parted on top of her.
Lois senses your tenseness as she softly squeezes your hips. “It’s mind blowing, babygirl,” she smirks next to your head as she places another kiss.
Clark eventually finds himself hovering over both of you. Lois’ strokes are gently against your skin as she places soft kisses. The way she held you made this moment even more intimate.
Clark’s lips found yours as he kissed you passionately. Your lips were already swollen, heart already beating out of your chest as he pressed his torso teasingly between your heat.
“You’re precious,” he says against your lips. “We’ll take care of you.”
All you can do is look up at him as he slowly positions himself between your legs. He hisses quietly as the tip of his cock can already feel the dripping wetness of you. Lois’ hands hold open your thighs as her chest burns. She kisses your ear again.
Clark moves forward slowly as about an inch of him slips inside of your cunt. He pauses, almost ready to collapse and cum right there. This was always his favorite part, the point of slipping in and hearing the tiny gasp of a woman. Feeling the new sensation of an unfamiliar pussy made his head spin even more.
“That’s it baby, just feel him. Let us love you,” Lois whispers into your ear as she lovingly caresses your hip.
Clark continues as he inches further into you. Your walls grip around him tightly as he lets out a ragged breath.
Your soft sounds of pleasure fill the room as Clark slowly starts to find a rhythm. His size stretches you out as Lois continues to whisper sweet things to you.
Clark presses another kiss to your lips, drinking in every quiet sound you make as you squirm against Lois. You were perfect to them.
Lois could tell you were close by the way your hips moved. Clark was slowly pouring his hips into you as the sound of skin slapping skin filled her ears.
Her hand brushed down your stomach until one of her fingers found your clit once more. Your eyes widened as a choked cry slipped past your lips. You tightened around Clark as you began to pulse.
“Oh goodness,” he hissed, his large hands finding your hips to try to ground himself. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Let it happen”
“We’re right here. Just fall into us, pretty girl.”
Their words put you over the edge. Your back arches gently as you feel your thighs shake, cumming all over his cock. Your breathing is labored as Lois feels like she could never get used to your sounds.
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” she smiles as Clark continues to thrust in and out of you. Your sensitive pussy throbs around him as your mind feels like it’s spinning.
Clark sucks in a breath as he pauses his strokes, letting his warm cum spill deep inside you. He kisses your neck several times as he feels himself twitch inside of you.
He slowly pulls out as your thighs still shake slightly. The best part about aftercare in a threesome is that even as Clark gets up to get a towel, there is still someone there to snuggle you.
Lois holds onto as she presses kisses to your temple. “You are so perfect for us. So beautiful.”
Clark comes back with a warm cloth. He gets back into bed as he gives you a soft smile. He wipes you down, his touch gentle as his eyes rake over your beauty.
“You are so beautiful,” he says, his gaze now on your flushed cheeks.
His lips press against your soft cheeks as he tosses the towel to the side.
You spend the rest of the night between the both of them. Their eyes never leave you as they gently stroke your body, looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing they had ever laid eyes on. They worshipped you.
Eventually, your eyelids feel heavy as you drift to sleep. Your breathing is softened as Clark glances up to Lois, who is gently stroking your jaw with her thumb.
“This is the best idea you have ever had, Ms. Lane.”
**Part 2 :)
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
notes: GUYS. Can you imagine?!?!?!?!! I have no words, truly
summary: Not even Superman can ignore the haunting sound of a Siren call. It is easy to reel him in and capture him in your grasp. But it is your turn to be mislead when you realize he doesn’t drown. Instead, now you are stuck with the most frustrating problem of all: a lovesick man who refuses to leave you alone. (Copied & pasted from part 1).
content warnings: (please also read c.w. from part 1) mentions of drowning, ship wreck, lustful men, slight angst throughout, cuddling, reader becoming more submissive/accepting
word count: 3.1k+
pairing: female!siren!reader x Superman
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Your lips press together as he asks for your name. Your eyes falter to the water in front of you in avoidance. Instinct screams at you to vanish beneath the waves and disappear into the dark parts of the ocean where no man could ever reach. But something told you he’d probably be able to do that too. The idea of giving him your name feels like surrender in a way.
Still, something about him loosens you in a way you had never been before. You mutter it softly, under your breath as you don’t even bother looking up for a few seconds.
And he smiles. A real smile, like you’d given him a gift more precious than the ocean.
“You have no idea how beautiful you really are,” he tells you softly.
You ignore him as you fight the urge to turn away.
“What about you? Am I just supposed to call you something like Superman?” Your tone is sharp and defensive, desperate to change the subject.
“Clark,” he says. “That’s who I am when I am a human, anyway.”
The reveal of his name made you feel even more vulnerable as your jaw clenches. You swallow, forcing the tightness of your throat down.
Your eyes flicker to him again. It was very hard to read him, although you could see hints of his desires through his brain.
“What do you even want?” You ask, your voice quieter again than you mean it to be. Your question hangs in the air as he doesn’t flinch. He just looks at you with those wide open blue eyes that honestly got on your nerves. He had no shield or pretenses whatsoever.
So you started to do what came naturally to you, you reach. Not with your hands, but in a more darker sense. You used the ancient siren instinct that was woven into you deeply. You peer into him subtly as you peeled back the layers of his mind the way you’ve done with countless of men before.
Usually it’s easy. Disgustingly easy. It was how you were able to see what humans desired most, and if your song didn’t work, you could rely on using hallucinations of their greatest desires to reel them in. Usually, the desires of men were pulled from their minds easily. Mostly just about lust for women who weren’t theirs, fantasies of betrayal, greed, murder, pure ugliness. In a way it always made the killing feel justified for you.
But with Clark, it was different.
He’s hard to read. His soul resisted the pull of your gift as it seemed he had the ability to gaze into your own. Still, you caught glimpses. Dreams of holding back disasters, saving lives from fires and ruins, lifting people from certain death. You wondered to yourself if someone could truly be as pure as him, or if he was somehow deceiving you. The ache of being responsible for literally everything never seemed to leave him.
Then, a flicker crosses his mind as you see yourself. Your heart stutters. It wasn’t in the cruel, overly sexual way you were used to. It was just you. Laughing under the moonlight, and then again on a rock as your tail draped lazily across his lap. All of these images showed you in a different light. You looked happy. Soft and unguarded.
You blink, tearing yourself from his visions as a shiver runs down your spine. You hate the way being near him makes you feel.
Clark’s eyebrow furrows slightly as if he can sense something is wrong.
“I told you. I don’t want anything, I just like spending time with you,” his voice is quiet but still steady at the same time.
~
The next day, it is nearing dusk as you lay across your normal rock. Your back arches slightly as your tail drapes across the slick surface.
You try to focus on the familiar sounds of the waves crashing against the ragged rocks around you until your ears pick up the sounds of muffled conversation and a motor in the distance. A ship.
As early as a week ago, the sound would have stirred your hunger. The thrill of being able to unravel their darkest desires and attract them before pulling them to their deaths was what you naturally craved.
Now, you only stare.
Their voices carried faintly over the waves. Laughs, shouts, the shuffling of boots against the deck. Your eyes narrowed as you thought about what easy prey they would be. A single note for you would have them spilling overboard, right into your arms.
Your jaw clenches. The song trembles at the back of your throat aching to be released. But it doesn’t come. The only thing that does is visions of Clark, those stupid dimples, that dumb smile, or the annoying way his blue eyes look at you.
“Pathetic,” you mutter to yourself bitterly.
You’re angry. Not at the sailors or even Clark, but at yourself. He didn’t even know you. He couldn’t even promise you anything, yet just knowing him made you hesitate on doing what came natural to you. It made you feel guilty for even wanting to, which was a new emotion.
You squeeze your eyes shut as your nails dig into the rock, chipping it easily.
“Just because I talk to him doesn’t change what I am,” you hiss to yourself as if saying them out loud was just you trying to convince yourself. “He doesn’t change me. He can’t.”
Still, the ship passes as you don’t make any sudden moves. You glare up at the night sky as you swear your eye is even twitching.
About a half hour passes as you have finally began to calm down. You can still hear the ship in the distance yet it is not as taunting now. Your eyes flutter shut as you try to just relax. Being wound up is something you felt often these last few days.
That is until you hear the distant sound of wood snapping and shouts across the water. Your head picks up as you spot the ship, now a good distance away, as it seemed to sail right into a rocky area, causing it excessive damage.
You roll your eyes as your tail curves gently, trying to get more comfortable to at least try to ignore it.
If their idiotic mistake led to a wreck, it is their own fault, you thought to yourself.
The waves fill with panic even as you try to tune it out. The sailors claw at the heightened waves now, gasping for air. Their desires pour out of them in a rush as they enter your brain uninvited.
One man clings to a plank of wood, desperate, his mind flickering to the softness of his mistress waiting at home while his wife tends to their children. Another, as he kicks and sputters, imagines the time he had double crossed his business partner and positioned him so he didn’t have to share their profit.
A scoff moves past your lips as you try to shake these thoughts away.
“Even facing their death, humans are disgusting,” you mutter.
But another vision stirs. It wasn’t theirs, but just him. You see Clark, and the way he would easily help them without hesitation. Regardless of their intentions, past mistakes, beliefs, he would still save them. His strong arms would pull them effortlessly from the sea as his expression filled with determination. The image burns you from the inside.
Your teeth clench as you try to ignore it. He was a nuisance even without being there physically. With a long, forced sigh, you slip into the water slowly as you glare at the ship. Fury flooded your veins: not from the sailors, or the sea, or even Clark, but just the way he had managed to infect you with this cursed feeling of compassion.
You cross the water easily as the shouts got louder. You swim under the now half submerged ship, finding the small life boat attached to it. You hook your claws around the rope and rip it free.
Then came more work. The work that would pain you mentally to do. Their bodies float and thrash, some half unconscious and sinking under the waves. One by one, you grabbed them roughly and dragged them over to the small boat. You showed no mercy handling them as you threw them into it over the side, stacking them up as the sounds of coughing and sputtering filled your ears. You hurled the last one over the edge as water gushed from his lungs.
You vanish beneath the waves before they could even turn their blurred vision toward the sea.
~
The next night, you jump out of your skin when Clark returns to visit you. You are hugging your tail to your chest as he lands on your rock, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. The last thing you needed was him finding out what you had done. You were sure you would die of humiliation.
“Are you okay?” He asks, looking down at you after you seemed a little jumpy and didn’t immediately hurl an insult at him.
“Yes,” you say simply, looking up at him once before back to the water.
He still thinks it’s weird, but doesn’t push any further as he sits down next to you.
It is quiet between the two of you as the late afternoon sun casts above you. The silence between you turns comfortable. He isn’t trying to pry a conversation out of you, and you aren’t pushing him away either.
Finally, you turn to him. “Can I show you something?”
His head turns to you as a small smile graces his lips. “Of course.”
You slip into the water, looking up at him as you wait for him to follow. He seems to catch on that you wanted him to follow you as he strips his suit off and joins you.
You reach over and grab his wrist, pulling him under the surface as he doesn’t resist, just like he never does. Your tail effortlessly glides against the warm water as you swim deeper. He seems to glide through the water with no effort as you realize you don’t have to pull him much. Your eyes flicker over to him until you remember that annoyingly, he can fly. Of course swimming would come easy to him.
His eyes meet yours under the water. They are the same as they always are: calm, steady, and filled with that kind of look that can only come from love. You look away as you continue to guide him.
Finally, the coral reef is displayed before you in a burst of color. Purples, reds, yellows. All alive, all shimmering. Schools of fish flicker through the maze in spurts of silver. You pause at the edge, tail curling slowly behind you as you let go of Clark’s wrist. You turn to look at him once more to find him staring at you again, a small smile on his lips.
You force your gaze away, and if you had the ability to, you would feel the need to blush. He begins to lean in closer as he goes to take your hand, but of course you can’t let him do that. You dart away slightly, putting a few feet between the two of you as he tilts his head. The dumb, boyish grin is still on his lips before it turns into something a little more amused.
He makes a sudden move for you as you have to quickly move again. A startled squeal leaves your lips as it results in air bubbles before you realize he is chasing you.
He is fast, obviously. You wonder if he is holding back slightly as you manage to stay out of his grasp, darting away from him. You squeal, mostly out of amusement, and whip your tail as you dart sideways into the reef’s jagged maze.
He chases after you easily as the both of you weave through the coral, ducking between curves, flipping around columns of rocks.
He nearly catches your tail in his grasp, fingertips brushing across the slick scales which causes your heart to race before you twist away once more. The shimmer of your tail disappears into a cave of coral until you come out of the other side, whipping your head over your shoulder to look for him. He is still right behind you with a grin.
A laugh escapes your throat as bubbles leave your mouth. You don’t laugh. Never like this at least. The feeling startles you almost as much as the way his grin widens seeing it.
Finally, you loop around and dart through a cloud of fish, spinning in the water before deciding to rest against the wall of a rock underwater. For a second the reef is completely quiet.
Then, arms cage you in. Clark’s hands slam on either side of the rock you were pressed against as he traps you between it and his chest. His face is inches from yours as his blue eyes were still startling even in the dim light.
Your heart hammers against your ribs as your tail brushes his legs with every movement. His chest rises and falls steadily as if he was content staying down here forever just to look at you.
His eyes flicker to your lips as he blinks. Then, he slowly begins to lean in as you feel like you could faint. His eyes are now closed as a small grin overtakes your lips. Your hands plant against his chest, shoving him forward and catching him off guard as you manage to slip away.
You swim back toward the surface, leaving him underwater for a moment as his eyes shoot open. For a second, he just floats there completely stunned.
“You’re a tease,” he says as soon as his head pops back up over the waves. There is a grin on his face nonetheless as you try to act like he had no affect on you.
~
The next night, you find yourself waiting in anticipation for him. It almost sickened you the way you felt about a man. Well, technically he wasn’t a human man. Maybe that made it a little better. Still, it was hard to force the thought of him out of your mind.
You were so lost in day dream that you didn’t even notice the way he landed on the rock next to you. He grins, seeing your eyes closed as he quietly set the thing he had brought you down. He slips into the water silently with you still unaware.
His hand resurfaces, wrapping around the bottom part of your tail as he gives you a playful tug into the water. Your eyes shoot open in surprise as you quickly resurface, pushing your now soaking wet hair from out of your face.
Your chest burned with a new type of feeling once you realized it was just him.
“That is no way to treat a lady,” you grin, splashing him. Really? you thought to yourself, you are supposed to be dangerous, and the worst you can do is splash him? What has he done to you?
“Oh, I don’t remember all of your actions being very lady like,” he teases you.
He gets back onto the rock and reaches down to grab your waist, pulling you up next to him. It isn’t until he is done that you realize you should’ve shoved him away and told him you were capable of getting onto the rock yourself.
“I brought something,” he speaks again, grabbing the book from next to him. Your eyes flicker down to the cover to find a blue book with some writing on it. The thing that catches your attention though is the cartoon illustration of a female with red hair and a green tail like yours. You let out a laugh as your eyes narrow.
“The Little Mermaid. I’m going to read it to you. You’ll love it,” he smiles gently. An unfamiliar feeling rises in your chest as you look at him.
“Clark,” you start, another laugh coming from your lips. You weren’t sure if you felt embarrassed or overwhelmed. “First of all, I am not a mermaid. Plus I’m a little offended that you think I would like something so trivial.”
“I promise,” he grins, ignoring your protests as he presses on, just like he always does. You feel an arm wrap around your waist as he moves you onto his lap. You squirm against him, your clawed fingers wrapping around his wrists to try to pry them away but you can’t help but let a giggle escape from your lips.
“This is ridiculous. You are so weird. No wonder you have no human female companion,” you grin, not fully meaning the insults you were spewing.
The smile doesn’t leave his lips as you finally decide to stop squirming. Your hand stays wrapped around his wrist tightly. Although you had softened a great deal, you still had to push him away in some way.
He open the book as he began to read. Your eyes glazed over the page as you looked at the words in English. Although you could speak many languages, you had never seen writing before.
You fought the feelings away as best as you could as he read the first few pages to you, rolling your eyes and interrupting him to tell him you didn’t like the story already. As he continued, you found it hard to fight the way you enjoyed the sound of his voice. You took in the pictures in front of you as you slowly began to relax against his chest.
The grip against his wrist subconsciously loosened as he continued on, his chin against your shoulder as you listened intently.
Your chest tightened at the different parts of the story. The prince, the longing to be together, and the sacrifices the mermaid endured caused your chest to feel strange. The feeling of Clark’s warm body under you combined with the sound of his calm voice caused your heart to stammer in a way it had never before. You almost felt the unfamiliar urge to tear up.
As Clark neared the end of the book, your widened eyes narrowed slightly as your stomach churned. You began to think about how even in a world where superheroes and sirens existed, the type of childish make-believe of this story could never happen. Even if it did get your hopes up for a short while.
He finishes it, pausing for a moment as he wishes he could see your face. You are staring down at the last page in silence as a new emotion crashed into you. You swallow. What is he doing to me?
He is about to ask if you liked it before you suddenly dart off of his lap. The book flies from his grasp as he was caught off guard, falling into the water as you disappear beneath the waves.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
notes: Poor baby!! :( He is too sweet. But seriously this is so so fun to write omg!! I LOVE them
Also, I really don’t know that much about siren lore so I hope you can’t notice HAHAH. At the very least I hope everything makes sense!!!
summary: You’ve grown used to spending Tuesday nights on a rooftop with Superman. You shared takeout, talked for hours about anything, and tried to pretend you weren’t slowly falling for him. The only issue was you had no idea who he was behind Superman.
content warnings: alcohol mentioned once, heels and skirt worn by reader, no physical description of reader, no smut, kissing, mostly just fluff (I guess if you could even call it that?)
word count: 2.4k+
pairing: collegestudent!female!reader x Superman/Clark Kent
Metropolis seemed to be the place that never slept. Even after midnight, neon lights continued to flicker, traffic hummed along many streets, and sounds of people laughing spilled from the bars and restaurants that were littered on every corner. You were used to it by now after your first semester at Metropolis University. The energy was overwhelming at times, but it beat the staleness of your small hometown.
That night wasn’t much different. You were walking back to your dorm after a night out with your friends. Your heels clicked against the pavement as the hem of your skirt needed to be pulled down every once in a while. The city was always a little brighter after a few drinks as your ears still pounded slightly from the loud music of the club.
Passing a random alleyway, you caught him in the corner of your eye. You slowed slightly as at first you thought it was just a shadow of a man slouched against the brick. When the light caught him, your breath caught in your throat. The cape was unmistakable. Superman.
You had only ever seen him from a distance. A few times flying over some skyscrapers, and the rest of the time just through shaky news footage on your phone or tv. Never like this, where you were close enough to be able to count the bruises across his jaw or hear the strained sound of his breathing. His large frame was pressed against the wall, fingers curling into the brick as if he was steadying himself. His head was bowed, mumbling words under his breath that were too low for you to even make sense of.
Any other time, you were the type to mind your own business and keep walking. Maybe you could blame your curiosity on the alcohol. Before you knew it, you had taken a few steps into the alley.
“Are you okay?” The sound of your voice causes him to freeze. He hadn’t even heard your footsteps as he was so lost in the fog of exhaustion and thoughts. Slowly, he lifted his head.
Blue eyes found yours. They were sharp and piercing, but they held the same amount of startle as yours now did.
“I-“ his voice cracked before he steadied it. He straightened, standing at his full height now as his cape rustled before falling back into place. “Yes. I’m fine.”
His voice returned to the same deep tone he always carried as Superman. You blinked, realizing you were just staring as you nod. “Okay.”
You kept it pretty simple as you turn to continue on your way. Something flicked inside him at the way you had accepted his answer so easily. It was a mix between amusement and disappointment that you were walking away so quickly.
Your beauty had stunned him, but of course he’d never admit that to a random woman in a dark alleyway. It wasn’t like he was trying to creep you out. But he also couldn’t stop the way his steps followed after you.
“You’re walking alone?” He calls after you.
You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes catching his and offered a small, friendly grin. “Yeah. I live a few blocks away.”
He nodded once, decisive. “I’ll walk with you.”
Before you could even let the argument slip past your lips, his long strides fell into place beside yours. The cape trailed just enough to brush the air behind him as he towered over you. The few pedestrians out at this hour slowed, stared, whispered. You knew it probably looked odd.
You bit back a laugh as your face felt hot. “This is embarrassing.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and your eyes widened as you winced slightly. “I mean- sorry. That sounded rude. I didn’t mean it like that.”
His lips curved slightly into a faintly bashful smile that softened his entire face. “Don’t worry. I know what you meant.”
It is quiet between the two of you as you cross the next street before you speak. “So you talk to yourself?” Your eyes glance up to him.
His brow furrows slightly as his eyes meet yours. “What?”
“In the alley,” you clarify, grinning slightly. “You were mumbling. It kind of sounded like a conversation, but you were the only one there.”
Color crept faintly into his cheeks, and he rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze darted away for a moment. “…I do that sometimes.”
You laughed softly. “I do too.”
You made him feel so out of his element already, which worried him. Just the sound of your voice caused his heartbeat to increase.
You sigh as you slow down to pause in front of the building. “Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me home.”
He looks down at you with a small smile on his lips. “Don’t thank me. I wanted to. Goodnight,” he pauses after the last word, lifting his gaze slightly as if he wanted your name. You tell him and his chest flutters at knowing something else about you. He repeats it, telling you to have a good night once again.
That was how it started.
You didn’t know what urged you to stop that night. But from then on, Tuesday nights became yours. Superman would land on the roof of your dorm, the gust of wind announcing his arrival, and you’d already be waiting. Sometimes with takeout, sometimes with homework sprawled around you, sometimes with just tons to yap about. The most confusing part was you weren’t sure what this was. A friendship, sure, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t look forward to those nights a little too much.
He felt the same way. He wanted nothing more than to see you more often, show you who he truly was, even ask you on a date. There were several times where he wanted to plan an “accidental” run in as Clark. But he was terrified you wouldn’t give him the time of day as someone so dorky and awkward. So the late night hang outs continued. You didn’t ask who he truly was, and he didn’t bring it up either.
You were sitting on the roof of your dorm building, back pressed against the brick wall as two containers of chow mein sat next to you. You had a textbook opened into your lap, the cool breeze of the night brushing past your legs that weren’t covered at all in your pajama shorts. Your teeth held one of your hoodie strings between them out of habit.
The familiar rush of wind came shortly after as you didn’t even have to look over to know he was here. His landing was always quiet but never subtle.
“Hey Supes,” you tease, turning the page. “I got you some Chinese in case you’re hungry.”
When you did finally glance over, your lips curve in a half smile. Because there you were with your takeout, and there he was standing a few feet away holding his own bag of food like a person arriving late to a gathering.
“I did the same for you,” he admitted, the corner of his mouth curving in a sheepish smile.
“Oh, we’re trying to out-nice eachother now?” You grin, watching as he settles about a foot away from you. For a moment it almost feels unreal as it did in the beginning. Superman, a world known figure, sitting criss cross near you with takeout between the two of you.
“We might have to start setting up dates for who brings what,” he responds.
You reach over to look through the bag that he brought as you begin to speak again. “So you remember that paper you helped me write last week?” You ask, pulling open the container to find falafel. You tap your finger with your thumb as you make an excited face since it was one of your favorites.
He grins, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he had no idea what you were doing. He would have to add that into his phone notes of the various gestures and phrases you used so he could look them up later. You made him feel so out of touch but he loved every second of it.
“The one where your contribution was typing your name at the top?” He asks, and your eyes flicker to his face as you can’t hold back a grin. He had been growing more comfortable with teasing you as time passed.
“Yeah, if that’s how you want to remember it,” you laugh lightly. “Anyway, I got 100 on it. Like, my professor had no corrections at all and said it was the best thing he’s read all semester. How are you so good at writing?”
He ducked his head slightly, trying to disguise the flush creeping up his neck. “Oh, you know… I’m just good with words, I guess,” he replies, hoping you wouldn’t notice how nervous he was around you again. “Lots of practice.”
Your nod as your eyes narrow slightly, taking a bite of food. You would have to circle back to his last comment later.
He glances down at the textbook in your lap as he tries to change the subject. “Economics, huh? That’s some pretty heavy stuff.”
You sigh as you glance back to the book. “Yeah. I have a test tomorrow.” You pause for a moment before speaking again. “When you say you have lots of practice, does that mean through your job? Like your day job I mean?” You ask simply, going back to what he said. You were always trying to subtly pull information out of him in hopes you could find out who he really was without him telling you. It was like a game. “Maybe you went to school for it?”
His lips parted like he’d been caught in the middle of something. For a split second, his eyes flickered away before he leaned back against the brick wall with you.
“My day job,” he repeated. He adjusted the carton in his hands like it demanded his full attention. “Yeah, something like that.”
You tilted your head, chewing thoughtfully as your eyes stayed locked on him. “So you do have one.”
That nervous little smile tugged at his mouth. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“Not really,” you smile. “I mean, Superman doesn’t exactly strike me as the clock in, clock out type.”
He chuckled under his breath and you felt a small thrill that maybe you’d managed to crack his composure. “Maybe I like blending in,” he offered.
“So it has something to do with writing,” you continue, watching as he takes a bite.
He swallows before giving you a look, but the slight smile is still there. “You ask a lot of questions. I really don’t even have the chance to get to know you.”
You grin, shaking your head as you continue to eat. “You know me. You know my name and where I live. That basically means you know me more than a lot of people.”
He sighs and shakes his head with a grin, and he swears he is about to open his mouth to tell you his real name before you keep talking.
“But fine. I’ll ask easier questions for now. Do you have a girlfriend?”
His heart thuds in his chest for a different reason as he meets your gaze again, pausing. “No. No girlfriend.”
His response amuses you for a second as you laugh. “Uh oh. There was a pause. I’ll rephrase, does your secret identity have a girlfriend?”
That makes him laugh this time as he shakes his head.
“No, no parts of me have a girlfriend. I promise.”
You smile as you pick up the other container, still amused. “Boyfriend? You know there’s talk on the internet that you and Batman might have something going on,” you tease.
That did it. His head dropped instantly as another laugh escaped him, covering his face with his hand. “Oh my gosh,” he mutters, his shoulders shaking slightly in amusement. “You are… what is that word you called me last week?”
You smirk widely. You always loved the way his voice got higher when he couldn’t stop laughing. “Insufferable?”
“You are insufferable,” his grins, his laughter dying down as he looks up at you again. “But no. I only spend time with one person that I look at in more than a platonic way.”
Your grin falters for a second and your lips part as you blink at him. “Oh yeah?” you say softly, your tone playful but your pulse quickening. “And who’s that?”
His gaze lingers on you, unflinching, until the air between you feels heavy. “You already know,” he says softly.
You feel your breath catch, your heart clenching in your chest. Before you can even think of a clever reply, he leans in. His lips find yours gently, testing at first, but the warmth of his lips rushes through you so fast your head spins.
You almost forget to breathe at how unreal this feels. Your hands gently find his shoulders as you kiss him back. He pulls back just enough for you to see the faint flush over his cheeks before his voice rumbles against your lips.
“My name is Clark Kent,” he admits, and before you can even react his lips are on yours again.
“I work at the Daily Planet,” he murmurs between another kiss, his mouth curving into a smile before pressing them against yours again.
You try to laugh against his lips, giddy with amusement and disbelief before he is pulling away again. “Clark?”
But you are cut off as he kisses your jaw. “I live at 344 Clinton street,” he returns to your lips as pecks them again. “Apartment 3D.”
You can barely breathe, partly from laughing but also the way this large man you had been falling for over the last few weeks was kissing you so intensely. Your hands have now found his nape as your fingers glide into his hair.
He pulls away once more to kiss the corner of your mouth. “You’re insane,” you giggle.
“My phone number is 555-5185,” another kiss. “And I wear glasses.”
By the time he pulls back properly, you’re breathless with laughter and your lips tingle. He’s smiling, but rests his forehead against yours as he nuzzles your face.
“Seriously, anything you want to know about me, I’ll tell you. Anything,” he says softly as his large hand holds your face gently.
“You’re not real,” you whisper with a small smile.
“Neither are you,” he counters, brushing his thumb over your cheek before stealing another kiss.
notes: this was just a fun little something I guess. I needed something light bc the other piece I am working on is killing meeee!! Thanks for reading 💋💋
summary: You are a scientist that is assigned to a top-secret government facility that houses an extraterrestrial subject to learn more about where he came from. In this he is not Clark Kent or Superman, just Kal-El. Martha and John did not find him, but the government did.
content warning: themes of imprisonment/captivity (for him), experimentation (nonconsensual, words like probing/injecting/sedation through kryptonite mentioned), dehumanization (he is often referred to as alien), emotional neglect against him by others, mild physical contact without consent (no intention to harm you he was just curious), he cannot speak any language, **no mention of anything sexual until the ending note. **not smut
word count: 2k
pairing: female!scientist!reader x Kal-El the last son of Krypton
— — — — — — — — — — — —
He had fallen from the sky nearly twenty-nine years ago, a blur of fire and steel tearing across the Kansas night until it left a crater in the middle of a farmer’s field. The government had arrived before the news cameras or locals had a chance to take more than a handful of grainy photographs. What they found was a craft unlike anything anyone had ever seen. And inside it? An infant.
The reports described the capsule as self-sustaining and it hummed with a strange kind of energy that no Earth technology could match. Carved into its panel systems was a message, damaged and grainy. It was an echo of a voice in a language no human spoke. It was eventually decoded years later, barely traceable but clear enough to identify one thing: they referred to the baby as Kal-El.
You had heard fragments of this story several times throughout your life, but of course it was all chalked up to be a hoax. Deep down, you didn’t want it to be.
And somewhere deep down inside that same part of you was an unrealistic dream to find out the truth.
People even laughed at you when you told them you wanted to study alien life in college. So your description of your goals quickly turned into a blanket description of what you were really chasing after.
First came your undergrad degree in biology. You smiled as your family took pictures at your graduation, saying how proud they were of you that you were finally ready to enter the real world. That was pretty far from the truth.
You jumped right back into school the next semester to earn your masters in linguistic anthropology. When you called it that, people usually just smiled weirdly at you and nodded, so you usually just said you read a lot about the way people communicate.
You were psyched out of your mind when you landed a rare PhD student position through a corporation called Star Labs. It was boring work to say the least, just five long years of entering information into analogs about various samples from Mars and Venus.
But you never pulled yourself away from the niche obsession you had about life outside of earth. After your long days at the lab, you couldn’t help yourself by indulging in the most ridiculous research, if you could even call it that. You scanned places like Reddit and Facebook for the crazy conspiracies people rambled on about. You half-smiled at people’s theories about Area 51, or the way the had spotted extraterrestrial objects in the sky. You were very educated and had a solid sense of reality, but even after all these years, you couldn’t shake the thrill that these theories brought you.
You eventually completed your dissertation. It was on challenges of communicating with nonhuman intelligence. The committee that examined your thesis were definitely thrown for a loop over it, but by the grace of all things good you passed.
Your family had given up on the idea of you finding a career a while ago. Because who did they know who made a career out of studying aliens? She’s too busy looking up at the sky for UFO’s your brother would tease.
Even you were surprised the day you received the letter in the mail. One of the faculty members who had examined your final dissertation had passed your information along to someone who eventually passed it on to someone else in the government.
At first, you thought it was a joke. Some prank that someone you knew was playing on you. The envelope was sealed and marked with a government insignia. You thought it was a really cruel joke all the way until the point you were sitting in the briefing. Then came the nondisclosure agreements, and you felt your hand was going to fall off from all the papers you had signed. The last paper you received was the contract. It contained all of the information about your assignment, where you would be located to, and what you would be doing. You could barely finish the fine print before you were signing it.
And before you could even consider it a joke anymore, you were being transported from your new living quarters to the one and only Area 51 base. The security check was lengthy, and you were exhausted from just that even though your day hadn’t even started yet.
You were greeted by a man by the name of Dr. Holt. He was the one assigned to show you to your work space and brief you. After giving you a tour of the office area of the facility, he hands you a file.
You’d expected the file to paint him as some kind of monster, something terrifying. And in a way, it did. The earliest reports told of strength beyond human limits. Notes of failed attempts to pierce his skin with scalpels and light that burned from his eyes when he grew agitated with the way someone was touching him. He was contained before he could speak a single word, never learning what it meant to be anything other than something to be watched.
His world became a cell. Bright white walls infused with something called kryptonite. It was carefully measured to be just enough to dull him and keep him tethered, but not enough to kill him. His interactions were limited to guards and scientists in lab coats who never spoke to him. They measured him. Prodded. Observed. But they never looked at him.
Until now.
The program had shifted. You weren’t told exactly why, only that the department you were working under wanted more than physical data. They wanted to understand him. His culture, his language, the scraps of history buried inside his head. And so they brought in people like you, researchers who specialized in anything alien.
You studied the file for days. You read over it at least a hundred times. “Subject 001: Kal-El. Extraterrestrial. Male. Origin: Krypton”. Added to the files were years worth of notes, interactions, tests. Some of them seemingly unethical. There were even pictures of the original crash site along with a small stone like item with what looked like an ‘S’ carved into it.
It had now been a week since you arrived and the department deemed you ready for engagement. You followed Dr. Holt through the many chambers and vaults it took to get to where they kept him.
Dr. Holt speaks casually as you follow him.
“Over here is where we keep our protective equipment. You may put it on now if you would like to,” he tells you, gesturing to what looked like a row of hazmat suits on the wall.
“His file mentioned he tested negative for any human disease,” you say, just thinking out loud. He puts his hands up in a way that seems like he’s telling you he’s just doing his job.
“Very well. You’re not required to wear it,” he says simply. He stops in front of a case that has a code on it. He quickly types it in as the small door opens. He takes out a vile with a sharp needle covered by a plastic cap and holds it out to you. It was filled with a bright green liquid.
“You will be needing this. Keep it in your pocket at all times. These days, he is pretty weak from the Kryptonite, but you might need to inject him with it if you are attacked.”
You slowly reach out and take it, looking down at it before putting it into the pocket of your lab coat.
“Ready?” He asks.
Your eyes snap up to him in surprise. “That’s it?” You ask.
The man just chuckles as he shakes his head. “What, did you think you were coming here to receive training like in the movies? The alien doesn’t speak. He will never speak. The government just seems to like pouring money into useless research. Just go in there and let him get used to you.”
You are a little taken back by his words as your brow furrows slightly. But before you can even reply, he has started the process to open the door with a code, key scan, and fingerprint. The vault opens with a loud beep as you are ushered inside, the door pulled closed behind you.
You blink as bright white light floods your vision. As they adjusted you noticed the walls were in fact laced with a faint, green shimmer.
But none of that mattered once you saw him.
He sat against the wall as his legs seem to bend like he had learned to fold himself smaller inside these walls. His dark hair hung in loose waves over his forehead, and when he lifted his head at the sound of the door, the startling blue of his eyes almost made you forget to breathe.
For a moment, he just stared. Wide-eyed. Unblinking. You’d read about his fascination with people, but reading wasn’t the same as being the subject of it. He looked at you like you weren’t just another uniform, another scientist passing through. His expression softened, and for the first time you wondered if anyone had ever smiled at him in here.
So you decided to, because why not? It would probably be easier to gain some information through the use of human mannerisms. Maybe he would eventually be able to mimic them.
Your lips curved into a small, warm smile. You were nervous, but it was still genuine.
And something in him shifted. He watched in fascination as you decided to do what you would with any other person.
“Hello, I’m-“ but you can’t even get out your name as he has now crossed the small room to make a straight shot to you. His hand grips your face, somewhat roughly as his fingers push against your lips. His wide eyes stare down at you as he feels a wave of disappointment as the words stop coming from your mouth.
You are startled, to say the least. And you were almost certain that there would be someone just waiting to tranquilize him for making such sudden movements, but you realize no one is probably even watching.
For Kal-El, no one had ever spoken to him. Sure, he had heard English from the scientists around him who muttered terms as they jotted findings in their notes. They spoke amongst each other, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Now, he needed to know what you were saying as he naively touched your mouth, wondering how you did that.
Your now trembling hand finds his wrist as you try to pull his hand down. It isn’t until a small sound of discomfort leaves your throat that he drops it. He seems horrified, recognizing the sound as the one he has made many times before as he was prodded and injected with the green stuff he had grown to fear.
Your breathing is slightly heavier as you look up at him, recognizing his facial expression as one of guilt?
So he is smart. And emotionally intelligent, which is more than you can say for most humans you know.
You smile softly again, wanting to calm him.
“It’s okay,” you speak again. “You like to listen to someone speak?”
You know he couldn’t understand. Not yet, at least. You just watch as his face turns to that wide eyed fascination again, but he doesn’t touch you.
You feel absolutely out of your element. You had prepared for years for something like this, except you always understood something like this didn’t exist. Maybe that’s what made it seem appealing.
But now here you were, face to face with what was supposed to be an alien but looked exactly like a man.
Your eyes glanced over his chamber as you tried to find something to do, something to talk about. Is there nothing here they leave him to help keep him entertained?
Your eyes meet him again to see he is still looking down at you.
*You can read part 2 here!
— — — — — — — — — — — —
notes: YOO when I tell you this is literally my baby. I do want to continue it because I love it so much, but I don’t know how I want it to go. I would love to turn it into some wild smut where their sex goes crazy (bc I’m a freak at heart) but I also like the idea of a nice lil slow burn of them learning each other. Please tell me what you think!!
Also, I worked really hard on this and I did do quite a bit of research. I had to look up a lot of things about the reader’s education and also some of the extraterrestrial stuff, so please don’t judge too harshly if something didn’t make sense. But tysm for reading ily muahhh
summary: Your days have fallen into the same monotonous routine over the last three years: wake up, chores, receive snide comments from your husband, and go to sleep. You are supposed to feel content and even grateful for your life yet you feel anything but. But everything shifts when a new neighbor moves in next door. He is tall, kind, and listens to you in a way that awakens feelings you thought you had buried long ago.
content warnings: 50s ideals/beliefs, housewife!reader,women “belong” in the home ideals mentioned, reader is talked down to, reader discontent with her life, reader is married, emotional cheating/going behind husbands back, reader implies she attends church, reader’s hair mentioned, **no physical abuse, no smut. +
author’s note: I do not fantasize over the 1950s aesthetic because I know this period was so unfair/horrifying for many. I just like the idea of this fic because it’s fun and kind of thrilling and eventually I want the reader to receive everything she dreams of! So if you think you will be upset over the social norms and the way the reader kind of starts off more submissive/not standing up for herself, please do not read! I don’t want to upset anyone
word count: 4.1k+
pairing: Clark Kent x f!housewife!reader
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
You tried to tell yourself that this was the dream. A neat, humble house, a steady income, and a hard-working husband. It was easy to feel guilty over the fact you were supposed to not only feel content, but grateful for this kind of life.
As morbid as it was to look at the bare minimum in a positive way, your husband, Robert, was not abusive in the way many husbands were. Physically, at least. He rarely ever raised his voice either. That didn’t mean he didn’t share the same views and opinions of many people at this time, like how you belonged at home or your hobbies were a waste of time.
The days blended together in routines. You started by waking before his alarm went off, slipping into the kitchen to prepare coffee and breakfast. Then you finished packing his lunch right before he was off to work, only for him to usually pull away from your goodbye kiss to look down at you with a disapproving look.
“I see you didn’t have time to iron this pair of slacks?” He questioned, letting you know he could always notice a frivolous slip up but never noticed how much this life made you ache inside.
Instead, you just looked at him with a soft expression and apologized.
You filled the hours Robert was gone with chores. You hung laundry on the clothesline, pushed the vacuum over already spotless carpet, wandered around with the squeaky cart through the grocery store, and started dinner at exactly three in the afternoon daily. Sometimes, when the work was done, you’d curl onto the couch with a book in your lap. It was such a relief to slip into a world bigger than the four walls that surrounded you.
The fantasy always shattered when Robert walked through the door. His eyes would scan the area as he took off his work coat and set down his brief case. It was almost like a mental checklist of all the things you had failed to do. Didn’t even notice I walked in to greet me, there is a dirty spatula in the sink, and she forgot to grab the cookies I had mentioned this morning from the store.
“What’s the point of reading all that nonsense if you can’t follow a simple grocery list?”
His voice was honestly becoming like nails on a chalkboard as you quickly close the book, realizing he was home.
The next day unfolded like usual: breakfast, goodbye, chores. By late morning, you were outside in the backyard with a wicker basket on the grass filled with Robert’s freshly washed shirts. The sun was warm against your shoulders as you pinned laundry to the clothesline.
You reached for another shirt before movement caught your eye beyond the fence.
A truck had pulled into the driveway of the house next store, which had sat empty for a couple months now after the owners had moved away. You froze, clothespin between your teeth as a tall figure came into view.
At first you only glimpsed him between the fluttering shirts. But then he stepped into full view, carrying a large box as though it weighed nothing. He shifted, adjusting his grip, and you noticed the details: the dark, wavy hair, his sharp jaw that was softened by the dark pair of glasses perched on his nose. He was broad shouldered and impossibly tall. He was the kind of man who looked like he belonged in a magazine, not in the quietness of the suburb you had been suffocating in.
Your breath caught and before you realized what you were doing, you slipped behind the trunk of the old maple tree in your yard. From there, you let yourself steal another half glance.
He didn’t notice you as he hauled another box from the back of his truck, the fabric of his white t shirt straining across his back as he reached into the back. You slipped behind the tree once more, clutching the clothespin tightly in your hand now as your heart was beating unusually fast. You did your best to convince yourself it was nothing. Just a neighbor and some curiosity.
The days that followed brought small, stolen glimpses. Through kitchen blinds you watched him push a mower across his lawn, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to his elbow. Another day he stood on a ladder, paining his shutters a clean shade of white as his frame stood steady and sure. Each time, you tried to force yourself from the window and told yourself to mind your own business. It wasn’t right to eavesdrop on the new neighbor.
That evening, Robert settled into his usual chair, rustling the evening paper. You told him lightly, “We have a new neighbor.”
“Mm,” was all he gave, eyes never lifting from the page.
The next day, you caught the sound of voices outside as you were preparing to plate dinner. Robert’s car door slammed as your breathing caught when you noticed him crossing the yard toward your new neighbor. You paused at the window, watching discreetly through the curtain.
They shook hands and began exchanging a few words. Robert even laughed over something he said. You were almost desperate enough to press your ear to the glass to catch the sound of his voice. You had to quickly rush back over to the stove once Robert had turned back toward the house and made his way to the front door.
He got inside, shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie. You stirred the pot on the stove as if you had been there all along, glancing over your shoulder casually.
“Well,” he starts. “We have ourselves a new neighbor. His names Clark Kent. Just moved here from Kansas. He seems like a nice enough fella, I told him if he needs anything he can come by.”
You nod, forcing a small smile as if you hadn’t already told him last night. Your heart began to go back into its normal rhythm.
“He does seem nice,” is all you can think to say.
The next day was laundry day again as the almost empty basket sat at your feet, filled with towels. The sun was high and warm as the smell of cut grass and laundry soap settled around you. You didn’t even notice him approach as you pinned a towel to the line.
“Hi.”
You jumped slightly, turning your head sharply as your eyes widened at the sight of Clark Kent standing across the other side of the white fence that separated your yards.
“Oh- hi,” you breathed as you tried to wipe the look of shock from your face to not look completely strange.
He blinked then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
You shook your head quickly as you took a step forward to be able to see him better. He extended a hand over the fence and your heart skipped again at the thought of actually touching him. What is going on with you? Can you not interact with other people now? you think to yourself.
“I met your husband last night. Thought I’d come over and introduce myself properly. I’m Clark,” his voice was warm as you slipped your hand into his to shake it.
You told him your name with a polite smile. Up close, he was even more disarming. His eyes looked into yours and he towered over you easily, but it wasn’t in an intimidating way. His easy charm just made your heart stumble in a way it hadn’t in years.
You tried to keep your tone even as you made polite conversation. You asked how he was settling in and if he needed anything for the house, but the way your left hand fiddled with the material of your dress told a different story. You hoped he didn’t notice how flustered you felt.
Then, with a suddenness that caught you off guard, he said, “would you like some iced tea? I was just about to have a glass and sit on the patio for a few minutes.”
You felt stunned as you blinked. It was usually you that was expected to play hostess and offer refreshments. That was how you were raised, at least. But the way he looked at you made you feel welcomed and invited in a way you hadn’t before.
“Sure. That would be great,” you got out, forcing another smile.
Crossing into his yard, you followed him up onto the deck where he set two tall glasses down on the table. You slipped into the chair, thanking him softly before taking a cautious sip.
The conversation slipped into something almost easy as the initial nerves wore off and you slowly started to accept that you now lived next to possibly the hottest man you had ever seen. You asked what brought him to Delaware. He leaned back in his chair, adjusting his glasses as he answered.
“I landed a job at the Daily Planet as a journalist. Nothing too exciting yet, but I’m glad to have the chance. I start next Monday.”
Your face brightened before you could stop it. “Oh- Robert reads the Daily Planet paper every morning without fail.”
Clark’s grin widened slightly as he glanced over at you, boyish and warm. “Well, then I suppose you have a reason to start reading it too. Neighbors ought to support each other, don’t you think?”
You felt caught off guard as you blinked once. No one ever invited you into the world of news or stories before. It wasn’t like you were ever expected to keep up on current events because no one ever asked you opinion on anything anyway. You glanced down at your glass as all you could do is give a small smile and nod.
After a moment, he spoke again. “What about you? What do you like to do?”
The question made you feel nervous even though his tone was nothing but kind. You answered automatically, the same way you’d answer if anyone else had asked you. “Oh, you know. I participate in some events for my church, evening strolls in the neighborhood, a little gardening and sewing.”
He nods, the same gentle smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t skeptical or patronizing though, it was just simply Clark.
“Okay,” he nodded, taking another sip before continuing. “Now what do you really like to do?”
His words rippled through you as your heart stammered. It was a simple question really, one that didn’t take much thought, but it was so rare you ever got to talk to anyone about what you truly enjoyed. It took a few moments as you realized how pathetically boring your life really was, and how you had to admit that to the gorgeous man sitting across from you.
You hesitate for another second as you glance back up at him from your glass. “Well, I like reading,” you admit, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.
His eyes light up instantly, the corners crinkling slightly as he nods. “I do too. What do you read?”
No one ever asked. Not like this at least, with genuine interest instead of being condescending. You shifted slightly, smoothing the skirt of your dress against your leg as you had to think for a moment. It was hard to even remember your own name with the way he stared at you.
“Anything, really. I know it can be a waste of time, but I do go through quite a few books. I just got done reading East of Eden. I thought the storyline was okay, but I really enjoyed the way they described California. It makes me dream of living in the mountains and how crisp the air seems. Like you can breathe deeper just imagining it,” you smile lightly as you speak before your voice trails off slightly toward the end, realizing you had began to ramble.
But Clark just nodded, his expression lighting with the kind of sincerity you weren’t used to seeing when you spoke about books. “That’s a great one. I think it’s amazing how a story can transform you to a different world like that. Make you feel like you’re there even when you’re not.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes lingering on your face thoughtfully. “Have you ever been to California?”
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head no as you glance back down to the glass in front of you.
“No,” you admit softly, although admitting your lack of exposure to different places didn’t embarrass you like you thought it might. “We don’t really travel much. Most of Robert’s vacation time is spent at home.”
Clark leaned back in his chair once again, his gaze still kind but twinged with something like curiosity as he looks into the yard ahead of you two. “Well, it’s never too late. That’s the beauty of books, they remind you that there’s always more out there than just what is in front of you.”
Your chest tightened at his words, because for the first time in longer than you could remember, someone wasn’t telling you to just be satisfied with what you had. He was assuring you it was alright to want more.
The following day you stayed inside, dusting shelves that didn’t need dusting, refolding items of clothing that were already neat. Your mind wandered. No matter how many times you tried to distract yourself, Clark’s voice lingered in your head.
You told yourself it was nothing. He was just a neighbor, and your mind just craved something out of the ordinary after living the same day you had over and over for three years. The curiosity would fade after a while.
The knock on the door cause your heart to leap. You set down the folded shirt into the drawer, shutting it as you exited the bedroom and started toward the door. When you opened it, there he stood. Tall, a little sheepish, and his hands tucked into his pockets.
“Hi,” he said, almost shyly. “I know this might be strange, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to come over for a moment and help me decide how to decorate my living room.”
You blinked at him, your first instinct an almost cautious one. A married woman stepping into the home of the new bachelor next door. That would definitely give the women of the neighborhood something to gossip about for weeks. And truly, you didn’t even know him.
But the alternative, going back to the silent, same routine you had lived for three years suffocated you. The thought passed through you like dark humor: even being chained up in a basement would be better than the monotony you’d grown used to.
Still, you trusted Clark. Something about him felt steady, harmless, and kind. After the briefest hesitation, you smiled. “Alright.”
He led you through his back door, steeping inside after you as you both stopped at the entrance of his living room.
“It definitely needs a woman’s touch,” he said lightly. You stood side by side, your heads tilting gently at the same angle as you looked at the bare walls and single sofa that pressed against the wall.
“I’d like to keep it simple,” he adds. “Minimalist, but with some small pops of excitement.”
A strange feeling washes over you. Robert had never once asked your opinion on how a room should look. Not even the comforter set on your bed had been yours to choose. But here Clark was, waiting quietly for your thoughts as though they mattered.
You nodded silently as your eyes swept over the room once more. “Maybe, a brighter color on the walls. You could get a matching vase and some throw pillows to match it. A plant also adds to a room and makes it feel more alive without being too much.”
Clark’s grin spread slowly as he nodded in approval. He took a few strides into the connected kitchen before pulling some paint swabs from the drawer.
The both of you stood at the counter as you looked over the options.
“Do you like that one?” You ask after a moment, pointing to a color that was similar to periwinkle. It was such a stark difference from the wood paneling and white walls that covered your living room.
He nods, tilting his head as he glances at the blank walls once more. “I do. I think that would go really nice in here.”
But his next words cause you to pause.
“Let’s paint it today.”
Your laugh was light as you look up at him, a confused expression crossing your features.
“Today?”
“I’m serious,” he grins. “I’ll pay you. You can put it in your California fund.”
You shook your head, warmth blooming through your chest as you were still grinning. “You don’t have to pay me, Clark.”
Less than an hour later, he returns from the hardware store with two cans of paint and a small variety of brushes.
The room fell into a quietness after the two of you started. The distinct smell of fresh paint filled your nose. Clark worked in long, steady strokes as his paint roller glided across the wall. You crouched near the baseboard, working carefully on the trim. The only sounds were the soft drag of brushes or the occasional clink of the roller dipping back into the tray of paint.
Clark moved the roller a little too quickly after picking it back up, causing a few blue droplets to flicker right onto the fabric of your dress. You looked at them as he froze, his face twisting into an apology before he even spoke.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-“
“It’s okay,” you say quickly with a small smile. “It’s just a dress. It’ll come out.”
He gave you one last sheepish look before returning to the wall.
You weren’t sure what got into you. You lasted all of a minute before you glance at him again, dipping your brush into the paint before dragging a bold stripe of blue up his pant leg.
He stops, glancing down as a grin tugged against his mouth. He shook his head and let out a small laugh. “Guess that’s fair. Now we’re even.”
You smirked, heart thumping at the thrill of it before the both of you returned to your tasks. A few minutes later, you stood up to stretch and reach the corners where the walls met. To your surprise, you felt cold, wet paint rolling up your back.
He had started at your lower spine and rolled up to your shoulders as your mouth fell open. You turned slowly, feeling scandalized as your gaze met Clark’s mischievous grin.
“You did not,” you tell him, but the way he grinned told you he was definitely thinking I did.
You gaped for another second before lifting your brush and swiping it right across his glasses.
Clark stepped back with a laugh as you couldn’t contain the smile on your face.
“Have fun not seeing,” you grinned, feeling like you had won as he pushed his glasses up onto his head.
Despite the mini paint fight and a lot of it ending up on clothes, you managed to finish the small room as you and Clark stood next to each other to admire your work. The both of you were a mess as the paint had already dried against your skin, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed as hard as you did.
“Thank you,” he smiles, his eyes warm as he looks over at you with a genuine expression that almost pains you to see. “I think you might look even better than the walls.”
Despite his joke, your chest still burned.
“Thanks. I have more paint on me than they do.”
He chuckles, tilting his head as though studying earnestly. “No, I mean it. I think you’ve got a natural knack for this. I should hire you for the whole house.”
“Oh, sure,” you teased. “I’ll just add interior decorator to my list.”
Before he could respond you had glances at the clock that hung in his kitchen. It read 4:42 pm.
Your heart nearly stopped. “Is that the time?” you gasped, stepping back as if the clock had slapped you.
Clark blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, I believe so?”
“Robert will be home in less than a half hour,” you muttered under your breath as panic set in. “I’ll see you later, Clark.”
Before he could even respond, you practically darted to his back door. You glanced over the fence line, making sure no watchful eyes would catch you as you slipped across the yard.
Inside your home, you hurried straight to the bathroom as your pulse hammered in your ears. You stripped off the paint stained dress, stuffing it into the bottom of the hamper as if you were burying evidence of a crime. The shower turned on quickly as you scrubbed yourself with frantic urgency, the blue swirling with hot water as it trailed down the drain.
With the last rinse of your hair, you turned the knob off and grabbed for a towel, drying yourself quicker than you ever had before.
You managed to tug on a clean dress and step out of the bathroom just as you heard the front door jiggle from a key.
“Hi honey,” you greeted Robert, but your heart plummeted the second he began to shed off his coat. Dinner had not been started, the untouched package of beef still sitting in the fridge.
You stood in the hall frozen as he muttered a greeting to you, stepping out of his shoes as the evening paper was tucked under his arm.
He loosened his tie with one hand as he began to look over the kitchen, noticing the lack of usual aroma. They trailed over the empty counter, and then to the stove that had nothing on it.
His brow creased. “Dinner’s not even started?”
You swallowed, forcing a quick smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I… uh, I lost track of time today.”
His expression sharpened slightly, not exactly angry, but it still held the quiet disapproval that made your stomach knot tighter than if he would have shouted. He set the paper down on the dining table with a quiet thud. “Lost track of time? Doing what, exactly?”
Your brain scrambled for an excuse, flipping through them like pages to a book. “I ran into that older woman we sit near in church at the store. She kept me in the aisle for a long time talking. I started some laundry when I got back home and I guess I didn’t realize how late it was.”
Your excuse feels clanky and awkward, and you silently hope he would buy it and just leave it alone. But like always, he had to get a jab in.
Robert studied you for a moment, lips pressing into a line. Finally, he shook his head, sitting down at the table as he picked up the paper once more. “You know, reading or day dreams don’t put supper on the table, hon.”
His words settled into the familiar sting under your skin, but they also pulled a new feeling from your chest as you felt annoyance begin to rise inside you. Still, you were relieved he didn’t question you further as he opened the paper.
“I’ll have it done in no time,” you tell him, shaky hands beginning to pull different ingredients out.
There was no response as your husband had already put his focus on the paper, tuning you out. You took out the pack of meat from the fridge as your eyes flickered out the kitchen window and over to Clark’s house out of new habit. His kitchen light was on, and you had to force the thought away of how much you would enjoy having dinner with him as you continued to make your own.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — —
notes: honestly even thought I created his character I would stand ten toes and beat the fuck out of Robert :/ bc why are you so annoying and why am I literally about to throw up when I imagine him
content warnings: porn with a plot, established!relationship, rough patch in relationship, reader on edge, angst in some parts, nagging, lecturing, (slight) male incompetence, mean!reader, rough sex, smut, piv sex, creampie, edging (slight), readers hair mentioned, praise (once), sub turned dom Clark, hair pulling,
word count: 4.9k+
pairing: f!reader x Clark Kent
— — — — — — — — — — — —
As surprising as it was, even a relationship with Clark Kent could grow stale. He was your impossibly sweet, golden retriever like boyfriend of three years. If you had shown yourself a snapshot of where your relationship was now on the first date, you would have never believed it. There was no way being with someone like Clark could possibly be going this poorly.
You weren’t sure exactly when it happened. Maybe somewhere between his unpredictable hours and your own long days, the magic had slowly began to thin over time. You still loved him, God, you did, but somehow your love had fallen into more of a routine than the exciting passion it had started as.
Clark was still the same man who had stolen your heart. He was kind, thoughtful, incredibly passionate, undoubtedly loyal, and the epitome of anything you could ask for in a partner. He still brought you small surprises, like flowers or your favorite coffee. The two of you still kissed each morning before leaving to go about your days. He still smiled that same, quiet smile when you talked even if he was tired to the bone.
But lately, you found yourself becoming someone you didn’t even recognize. The kind of girlfriend who huffed when he carelessly missed the hamper and dropped a shirt next to it instead of in it. Or the type who snapped at him when he forgot to take the trash down again. Sometimes even your own voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard in your head, but you couldn’t help but fall into the routine of nagging.
“Clark, how hard is it to read a grocery list? Like seriously.” He’d blink, confused, before he looked down at the wrong brand of cereal he had grabbed. Now, Clark knew all about how most men did show signs of incompetence and he understood your frustration. He wasn’t trying to get out of being asked to do things, most of his mistakes were results of being purely exhausted. Instead of arguing back that he had briefly glanced over the list and bought the cereal you usually bought instead of the one on the list, he just apologized.
“I’m sorry, I can stop in tomorrow after work to grab the right one.”
“You always grab the wrong one,” you cut in, sharper than you meant it.
The worst part of all of this was that he never snapped back. It would be much easier to rip into him each time if he was ready to fight back, but instead he usually acknowledged his mistakes. He paused for a moment, keeping calm, and just nodded in agreement with you. He never rolled his eyes or changed his tone. Every now and then, maybe gave a small sigh before he quietly tried to fix whatever mistake he made.
Honestly, that probably made you angrier. Because what were you supposed to do with all this bottled up frustration when he just took it?
The next night, you were at the kitchen table. You still wore your work uniform from earlier as your lap top sat open in front of you, the light straining your eyes and giving you a faint head ache as you copied down notes for one of your classes. You didn’t even look up at you heard the door unlock. Clark stepped inside, his shoulder heavy as his tie was loose around his neck. He carried in a bag of takeout and set it down on the counter before taking off his glasses.
“Hey,” his voice was steady and warm as he gave you a small smile.
You didn’t look up as you continued to type. “Hey.”
A moment later came the rustling of plastic as he reached into the bag. The smell of chicken filled the air as he glanced at you once more. “Do you want to eat now?” He asked, going to grab two plates. You shook your head in response, mumbling you would in a few minutes as you continued.
Instead of relief that you didn’t have to make your own dinner, you felt the familiar ache of irritation settle under your skin. He began to unpack the containers, the crinkle of plastic and snap of lids filling your ears. He hummed softly under his breath, pushing some food onto both plates with a fork as everyone once in a while it tapped against the glass. For some reason, that was it.
“Do you really have to make noise like that?” You snap, still not even bothering to look up.
The humming stops as he pauses.
“Sorry,” he says quietly, still gentle. “I know you’re trying to study. I’ll be quiet.”
He went quiet now, but guilt had already settled into your chest. The sharpness in your voice was honestly unnecessary, but you had trouble with apologies especially when you were in a mood like this.
A few minutes later he walked over your plate to you, realized you weren’t going to join him at the counter. “You should really take a quick break and eat,” he says, hesitating as he pauses above you. A year ago, he would have rested his hands on your shoulders to gently stroke your arms. He knew now that when you were overwhelmed, the last thing you needed was to be touched.
“I’m busy.”
“I know,” he said simply. “It looks like you’ve been at it since you got home from work, though.”
You finally glanced up at him for the first time tonight. You were half prepared to keep arguing, but you were too tired to say anything else. Your eyes trailed over his features. His black hair that fell in messy short curls, his kind eyes, soft, pink lips, his tall stature. He really was undeniably attractive, yet you seemed to forget that sometimes. Somehow, he still looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. You hated that too. How gentle and patient he could be as you showed him anger more than half the time.
The weeks continued like that. Quiet, tense, and familiar in the worst way. You told yourself it would get better after each milestone. After this one final, after this semester, after things slowed down at the Planet, after the world stopped destroying itself just to expect Superman to clean it up. Every time you thought about it, you told yourself when things finally settled down that you could find your way back to each other. But time just continued to stretch. The world never stopped needed him, and you never stopped feeling like your head was underwater. Your relationship continued to spiral into something that only looked like normalcy on the outside.
You still kissed each other goodnight and said “love you”. You even had sex once a week, although that had become like a thing to get done off the to do list rather than fun like it was supposed to.
You didn’t even realize how bad it had gotten until one night, Clark was kissing your neck softly as he thrusted in and out of you slowly. What once had you giggling and kissing between the sheets, back arching with pleasure and nails digging into his shoulders, had you staring up at the ceiling lost in thought. You were thinking about the paper that you still hadn’t start due in two days. Or the bill that you really needed to remember to pay before midnight to avoid the late fee. Mundane things that definitely didn’t belong during a time like this until Clark’s voice pulled you back in.
He’d already said your name once, then again as your eyes fixed onto his face.
“Are you even here right now?” He asked quietly. You blinked, realizing too late that he had witnessed your lack of enthusiasm. His tone wasn’t angry, just hurt, which was worse. You swallowed as guilt built inside of you.
“I’m just tired,” the excuse felt pathetic on your lips, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. You were tired of being this way. He nodded slow as his gaze lingered on you that let you know he didn’t fully believe it. He gently pressed a kiss to your lips as if he could try to search for whatever had gone missing between the both of you.
“I know. I just miss you.”
A few days pass of the same muted routine. You’d made dinner that night, although the word ‘made’ was hardly the truth. It was just noodles, jarred sauce, and pepper. It was the kind of meal that you threw together out of obligation, not care.
You sat at the kitchen counter with a stack of bills piled in front of you. Your phone sat on the counter too as you tapped through payments, only half focus and purely tired.
The front door opened with its familiar creak as Clark stepped in. His shoulders were slumped as usual as he slipped his shoes and glasses off.
“Hi babe,” he said gently, offering you that soft smile the didn’t quite reach his eyes lately.
“You told me you paid the phone bill this month,” you said flatly, skipping over a greeting entirely as the payment confirmation you had just made loaded on your screen. “Now we have a late fee, and I just made a double payment on your student loan because you paid that one instead.”
He paused mid step, frown tugging at his lips. “Oh. I- I could have sworn I remembered paying Verizon.”
You didn’t respond, instead scrolling to the next bill. “I hope you don’t mix this many things up at work,” you sigh under your breath. “It’s like you leave your mind there for the night.”
Clark stood there for a moment, jaw tightening slightly before nodding. “Sorry,” he said simply, moving over to the sink to wash his hands. His shoulders were tense as he seemed to scrub at his skin with a little more force than usual.
He joined you at the counter a moment later with a plate of the food you had made. He began to eat in silence as you continued to scroll through payments. The occasional clink of his fork against the plate irritated you, but this time you didn’t mention it.
After a few minutes, you slid off the stool to go grab your laptop charger from the bedroom. Passing the doorway, your gaze caught on the familiar sight of Clark’s dress shoes sitting by the mat.
“Shoes go on the rack,” you say sharply, loud enough for him to hear as you scoop them up. “This small ass shoebox is already cluttered enough. You seem to like adding to it.”
Clark looked up from his plate, blinking at you. There was a flicker of something tired and restrained in his gaze. He remembered the way you used to love this apartment. You had picked it out together after a year of being together, laughing together about how cozy it was. Now all it was is just a shoebox to you?
He swallowed, a breath coming from his nose as he went back to eating. “Sorry,” he muttered again.
You came back into the kitchen with your charger just as Clark was standing to put his plate in the sink.
“Rinse it,” you say without looking up, the words coming out more like an order rather than the reminder they were intended to be.
He went still. His hands rested on the edge of the counter, shoulders flexing tight as he breathed in slowly through his nose and shut his eyes. The faintest crack followed, causing your head to snap up. A thin fracture ran through the tile beneath his right hand.
“Are you kidding me, Clark? Did you-“
“Do you ever shut up?”
The words cut yours off, deep and rough. They were nothing like the voice you knew. He still hadn’t even turned around. You sat frozen, lips parted in pure shock. The silence stretched for at least twenty seconds.
“Excuse me?”
He straightened slowly, his back muscles smoothing out in his white dress shirt as he stood up and turned to face you. The calm that always defined his features was gone.
“I asked if you were ever going to stop bitching.”
Your heart stumbled in your chest. Clark never swore. In three years together, you could count on one hand the amount of times he had said the word hell.
“I’m not bitching,” your voice is low and defensive. “You just cracked the counter. One we will have to pay for and fix. What is wrong with you?”
His eyes met yours as you could see the frustration he had pushed down for far too long beginning to surface. In a horribly toxic way, it excited and relieved you deep down.
“We have to fix?” He repeated, voice rising. “Or will that just go on my endless list of things I can’t do right anyway?”
His words echoed through the apartment leaving a small ringing quiet behind them. But you weren’t done yet.
“You think I enjoy nagging you? You really think I like picking up the slack every time you forget something?”
“You don’t talk to me,” he shot back, barely waiting for you to finish. “You talk at me. You don’t even look at me anymore unless I’ve done something wrong.”
Each word from him shocked you even further. He had never talked like this to you. It flustered you, how different he sounded than the man you had grown to know. Your hands trembled slightly as you crossed your arms, needing to do something with them.
“Don’t even bother coming to bed,” you said finally, your voice more quiet than you intended it to sound. He stared after you for a moment, chest heaving slightly as you walked down the hall. Then he decided to move, following you.
You turned to find him following after you in the bedroom as a mix of anger and something else you couldn’t quite name yet flared in you.
“I said stay on the couch!” You snapped, even though your voice held barely any of the usual sharpness it usually did.
He didn’t stop. Instead, he crossed the room and caught your arm as you tried to jerk away from him. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was still firm enough to get your attention. Your eyes widened as he seemed to be almost pleased that you shut your mouth so easily.
“I am not your doormat,” he said, his voice low and steady. His usual kind eyes are now a different shade of blue as they bore into yours. “And I think you need to be reminded that this is a relationship and I am just as much in charge of it as you are.”
You are pressed to the bed firmly and before you can even respond, his lips are planted against yours roughly. It feels as if you are in a dream as you can’t remember the last time the two of you shared a kiss with even an ounce of true passion, let alone this roughly. He doesn’t even give you a chance to collect yourself as you are pinned to the mattress, his mouth attacking yourself as a wave of thrill washes over you.
“Clark,” you breathe as his finally pulls away, his hands sliding up your bare sides under your top as he tugs it away quickly and lets it fall carelessly to the floor. Your voice was softer than you meant it to be, more like a small gasp as you knew he could hear your heart hammering. “I… haven’t shaved my legs.”
It was a lame excuse, you knew that. Clark had seen you are your absolute worst over the last three years. Food poisoning, morning breath, hair literally everywhere due to falling into a roommate like routine. But you had to come up with something to try to push him away no matter how pathetic it was. It felt almost painful to just lay there without putting up a fight after being so tense and mean for so long.
But Clark didn’t respond. Usually, he would’ve found that amusing and let out a small laugh. Now he didn’t even bother to acknowledge the sorry attempt at trying to stop him.
You couldn’t help but feel a wave of arousal pool in your gut at the way his eyes darkened when they glued to your bare chest under him. They raked over your exposed tits as if he had never seen you naked before. In his defense, he was technically seeing everything in a new light with the frustration that had overtaken him. His lips were immediately around your hardened nipple before you cried out at the way his teeth grazed the sensitive bud.
“Go ahead, yell at me some more. I even forgot to switch the laundry before leaving for work. Go ahead and raise that pretty voice at me,” he growls, his fingers now pinching the other one before his tongue continues to swirl around the one he was working before. But you couldn’t. Of course you couldn’t. Your lips were parted as you let out a shaky breath, watching as your usually docile boyfriend panted over you like a feral animal.
You didn’t even bother to come up with anymore excuses as his hands grabbed roughly at the waistband of your shorts, tugging at them carelessly as he ripped them down your legs. They were disposed onto the floor as you now laid out beneath him, completely naked and feeling more exposed than you ever had as his eyes raked your body. He moved slightly, standing up to tower over you on the edge of the bed as he began to unbutton his white dress shirt. After it was shrugged off, his rough hands gripped your hips and drug you right to the edge of the bed as you let out a surprise yelp. His hands moved to your thighs, barely prying them open as you did so willingly.
“Look at this,” he says lowly, his thumb firmly pressing up your slit with a quick swipe as it glistened with your slick. You gasp softly as your teeth catches your bottom lip, trembling slightly at the unexpected touch that wasn’t enough at all to cool the burning fire in you. “All this constant attitude, and nagging, and lectures, just for it to be shut down when I finally put you in your place.”
“Clark,” your voice is needy, pathetic even as you want, no, need his touch again. You didn’t know how you could have ever grown used to the hottest man you had ever met, and now here you were ready to beg for him to just touch you. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-“
His hand covers your mouth to silence you as his lips press into a thin line, shaking his head. “I don’t think so. The apology we both need can’t be done with words.”
His hand is only removed to grab at your arms and lift you slightly. He easily flips you over, positioning you just the way he wants as he pulls your hips up and presses your head into the mattress. You move your head to the side to be able to breathe as his large hand snakes its way into your hair, pressing your face and tits into the bed as he adjusts you so your ass is in the air. “Relax,” he commands.
Your body trembles in anticipation as you can feel your pussy throb in a way it had never before. He hadn’t even touched you, his thumb barely running over your folds to check if you were wet, and you were dripping for him already.
You feel your head roughly tugged back by your hair, your widened eyes meeting his as he glares at you sternly. “I said relax,” he repeats, holding your head back until you let out a shaky breath and listen. Your hips become less tense as he returns your face to be smashed against the bed. It would be easy to feel shame at this point, but fortunately the throbbing in your core only made it possible to think about the way you desperately needed to be pounded.
Your heart rate quickens at the sound of his belt being undone with his other hand.
“Clark, please. I need you so bad, I can’t wait,” your words are whiny and pathetic as he is able to undo his slacks with one hand.
He just smirks, a small sound of smugness coming from him as one of his hands grab your ass cheek, pulling them apart and massaging at the same time.
“No warm up? I don’t think you need it either. I could see your little cunt glistening before I even flipped you over,” he teases, still playing with your ass as you let out a whimper. “So mean all the time. So demanding. Who knew you could be so helpless?”
If you weren’t trembling before, you were sure now you were full on shaking in anticipation as your ass hung in the air, exposed and throbbing as his will.
“Clark please. I will never-“
You are cut off by the way you feel the head of his cock press between your folds, causing you to hiss and jerk your hips toward him, desperate to have him inside you. He moves back slightly, his free hand holding your hips easily now as it continues to press up and down your folds, but he makes sure to not let it brush past your clit.
“Never what, honey?” He asks casually, letting you practically suffer under him as he moves up and down.
“N-never disrespect you a-anymore,” you whimper. You were sure you were on the verge of tears, wanting nothing more than his cock deep inside your womb but of course he wouldn’t let that happen.
“I will start talking to you!” The last word comes more enunciated than you intended it to as he finally ruts his swollen tip across your throbbing clit. “N-not at you anymore,” you pant.
“I know you can be a sweet girl,” he coos and you practically stifle out a cry as the conversation continues with no sign of him plunging into you. “Remember when you used to send me sweet texts everyday about how much you missed me? Or couldn’t fall asleep without cuddling?”
An actual tear slipped from your eye from how overwhelmed you were with the need to just be fucked. “M-mhm,” you whimper, barely able to process how long ago that point in your relationship was. “Please, Clark. We can go back to that, I can be her again.”
He smiles faintly at your words as his hand gently stroked your hip.
“You’ll be my sweet girl again? Maybe I’ll have to welcome her back by giving her what she desperately needs right now.”
Your eyes widen as you nod against his hand, barely able to form words to beg.
“Yes! Please, I’ll be so good. S-so sweet, you won’t-“
But your words are cut short the moment he plunged into you. You suck in a breath as his large size fills your dripping cunt in one thrust, balls already pressing against your ass as he paused there for just a moment to really amplify the dramatics.
“Cl-Clark,” the whimper falls from your lips easily as your warm walls wrap around him tightly. Although you can’t hear it, he lets out a sigh of relief from his nose too as his hard cock twitches already at the feel of you.
That was the only time Clark was going to go slow that night. Without warning, he pulls back before ramming into you roughly, finding an animalistic rhythm as he pounds into you with more force than normal each time. The skin of his thighs slap against yours as a string of pathetic whines and whimpers leave your lips, his hand still gripping your hair as he holds your upper half down forcefully.
After so many years, it was almost like you forgotten that his size was much larger than average. Without foreplay and in a new position, his cock plunged into your cunt with a force that was borderline painful, if he hadn’t managed to find your g-spot every time due to knowing your body so well.
“O-oh! Clark, please!” You whine as he stretches you out.
“This was all you needed, huh? Me to remind you that you’re not in charge?” He grunts, your warm, spongey pussy almost making him want to whimper. Your fingers grip the sheets as you try to nod, your mind completely foggy now as you are pounded into.
His hand untangles itself from your hair as he slows down slightly, instead grabbing both of your arms as he bends them to hold them behind your back. You cry softly, barely able to hold yourself up as he continues to pour himself into you.
He wants to praise you, tell you how pretty your face looks pressed against the mattress, or how well your tight pussy is taking his cock, or the way your ass cheeks look gorgeous recoiling off his thighs when he ruts into you, but he can’t. Not now, at least.
“Is that pretty mouth finally out of things to say?” he asks you instead, adjusting his grip against your forearms as you feel your eyes could roll to the back of your head.
Your orgasm begins to build deep inside your abdomen as you pulse around him. He notices immediately at the shift in your noises and the way you pulsate around him.
Since he’s feeling so mean, he pulls out of you. You gasp, jerking under his grasp as he holds you down.
“No! Please,” you beg, your pussy still contracting at the absence of him.
He tsks, shaking his head as his cock glistens with your wetness, still standing straight up.
“I know it hurts, baby. It’s so hard when the person you love is mean to you,” he grins, adjusting you by your arms as he lays down on the mattress on his back. He rests against the head board, pulling you close as you whimper and continue to beg.
“Lucky for you I love you too much to make you suffer,” he says softly, kissing your neck. After a very painful minute, he holds your hips and guides you back to his cock, the tip finding your gaping, desperate hole as he presses back up into you.
You let out a cry of relief as he fills you again, using his strength to easily hold you up as he pushes himself up into you over and over.
Your head throws back, tits bouncing as your skin slaps together. He holds your hips firmly, loving the way your head falls back against his shoulder. Your head tilts to look at him, your eyes filled with the beautiful look of being completely lost as he has to do his best to ignore the way he has seemingly fell in love with you for the millionth time and focus on the way you need to be fucked. His lips find yours only once in a passionate kiss, letting himself slip into the pure love he still has for you before removing them to continue. You let yourself fall back against his shoulder again, the most guttural noises you have ever made falling from your lips.
“Clark,” you whine, moments away from letting go. “I- I’m about to-“
A gasp interrupts your words as he pulls out again. Clark has never done this to you, never switched positions like this and edged you. This just felt cruel.
Your words fall into a string of begs and whimpers as he hushes you, moving you to the bed as he lies you down. Both of your legs are pressed over his shoulders as he looks down at you, gently holding your calves as he kisses the inside of one.
“Clark, please,” your tone is the most pathetic it has ever been, sounding like you were begging for something like your life. He ignored your pleading, taking his time to adjust his cock against your entrance teasingly. Tears well your eyes again until he finally presses his hips forward.
This was the best position yet. The way your legs are over his shoulders allows for even deeper penetration, his tip kissing your womb each time that leaves you seeing stars. It only takes a few thrusts before you can’t stop yourself from coming undone.
Your head spins as the coil deep in your belly snaps, waves of your cum spilling over his cock as your eyes roll to the back of your head. He watches in awe, almost coming undone himself as he is reminded yet again you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“I- I love you so much,” he mutters, still plunging into you as your tight walls continue to pulse around him, a white sticky display of your orgasm now all over his cock. You can barely even process what he said as you continue to ride out the aftershocks. The way he continues to rut into your sensitive cunt almost makes you cry.
It doesn’t take much longer for him to finish, pressing himself deep inside of you for the last time as spurts of his cum fill you. You are in a daze as he eventually pulls out of you, gently moving your legs so he can fall onto the mattress. He instantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest as your thighs continue to tremble.
Neither of you say anything as his lips press against your head. The only thing you were sure of in this moment is that you could never take dating Clark Kent for granted again.
