summary: after attending a coworker’s baby shower together, clark tries to figure out how to get you pregnant.
word count: 1.6k
tag list: @punksnotdeadbutiam, @unabashedlyinlovewithyou,@whotfisthatsblog,@wildernessmuse, @starwarsbian, @lilacsandlavenderhaze, @florayli, @gingerfemme22, @peachyvillehorror, @cerezzzita, @kryptidfiles, @garrettgr4h4m, @rynwritesstuff, & @bellathebookdevouer | wanna be added?
content warning: 18+ only!!!!! this is literally breeding kink the fanfic™. kinda proofread if you squint. clark gets baby fever and makes it the reader’s problem. gotta love her!! mild rough sex and overstimulation. brief mention of fingering and oral sex (both r!receiving) clark fucks you with an EJACULATING STRAP!!!! creampie in a way 💘💘. mating press position and tummy bulge. might be my best smut yet i fear.
a/n: HIII GUYS!!! i am so sorry for not posting. my life has been soooo crazy lately and not only did i not have the time to write, but i was struggling with writer’s block. this fic was also only supposed to be 500-800 words, WHOOPS! hope you all enjoy it. reblogs and comments are appreciated especially when tumblr hates me 😁😁.
LISTEN TO THE SONG FOR THE FULL EXPERIENCE
It doesn’t start with a positive pregnancy test. Or a conversation about kids. Instead, it starts with a coworker’s baby shower.
Or rather, a baby being forced into your arms despite your objections.
“No, Lois—Lois!”
Lois shrugs, securing the infant against your chest before letting go. “What? I gotta pee. You’re doing great.”
You frown, beginning to panic as you watch your best friend walk away.
“This jacket is vintage!”
As she disappears into the crowd, you glance down at the infant looking up at you with wide, curious eyes.
“Hi… how you doing?”
The baby blinks.
You offer them an awkward smile, patting their back as your gaze wanders, searching for their mother, blissfully unaware that her child has fallen into the wrong hands.
Most of your coworkers drift past, cooing over the baby, ignoring the desperate plea in your eyes.
Across the room Clark is at the dessert table grabbing you another cupcake. She heard your exasperated voice chastising Lois.
Her attention snaps to you instantly.
There you are, holding a baby, looking like you want to disappear.
For some reason, the sight nearly knocks the air from her lungs. Everything else in the room fades as her focus settles solely on you.
She’s seen you hold coffee cups, stacks of case files, even a stray cat she rescued from a tree—but somehow, seeing you hold a random baby makes her Kryptonian DNA go haywire.
You’re stiff as a board, staring down at the baby like you’re one sneeze away from dropping them.
But, God, you look soft.
Too soft.
The startlingly domestic sight roots itself in Clark’s chest before she crosses the room, unable to hide the grin tugging at her mouth.
“Need a hand?” she teases, hovering over your shoulder. “With this little fella… or lass?”
You look up at Clark, and despite your inner complaints, you become stubborn.
You adjust the baby tighter against you. “Nope, I’m fine.”
Clark lifts an eyebrow, still smiling.
“You’re holding them like they’re a bomb, sweetheart.”
“They’re not a bomb.”
“No, but you look like you’re waiting for them to explode.”
You tilt your head, peering at the infant, lips pressing into a thin line.
“God, don’t put that out in the universe… This jacket’s vin—”
She snorts. “Vintage… I know. I’m the one who bought it.”
“So you know why I’m freaking out.”
Her grin pulls into a smirk. “Then why are you holding them?”
You huff. “Lois ambushed me… and I’m waiting for the mom to come back.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Don’t ‘mm-hm’ me.”
The baby shifts, nestling closer, and you freeze. Their little hand curls against your jacket, and your expression warms almost imperceptibly.
Clark can’t help but melt.
You begin to rock the baby, finally getting the hang of it, and she hopes she’s already filing this image away somewhere in the back of her mind.
“Are you sure you don’t need my help?”
You don’t pay attention to her, focused on the cute little face that’s against your chest.
“Like I said, Clark, I’m fine…”
The moment you got home, she was on you—hands at your waist, kisses along your neck as you tried to get through the door.
You scolded her with a squeal. “Knock it off, Clark.”
She hummed against your skin. “Sorry, sweetie. I can’t help myself.”
The baby shower was over, the infant back with their mother, but whatever had awakened in your girlfriend lingered.
Inside, she tugged your jacket collar down and kissed your shoulder, letting it fall to the floor.
You tried to pull away, but she only drew you closer, basking in your warmth.
She brushed the corner of your mouth with hers, earning a light slap to her chest.
“What’s gotten into you? You’re acting weird.”
She tilted her head, smirking as she guided you backward toward the nearest wall. “Have I?”
“Yeah… you’ve been like this since before the shower ended.”
Clark shrugged. She couldn’t deny it—she’d been thinking about earlier all day, hoping to get it out of her system soon.
But you didn’t let her.
Yet.
Her fingers began tracing your midriff through your shirt. “I just liked seeing that side of you...”
Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What side, sweetie?”
Clark inched closer, fingers sliding underneath your shirt. “The domestic side. You looked so soft today, honey… It made me think about how amazing you’d be, and how easy it’d be to have a family like that.”
Heat returned to your cheeks.
“Oh, no. Not that. Seriously? Is this some kind of Kryptonian thing?”
She kissed you again, “No, just a you thing.”
“Seriously?”
“You know I can be very persuasive…”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Mhm, I don’t think you are.”
“Wanna test that theory?”
You already regretted your words.
“No.”
Clark didn’t hesitate.
One second you were against the wall. The next, you were lifted into the air and thrown over her shoulder.
You protested as she carried you toward the bedroom, kicking your legs and slapping her backside.
“Put me down!”
Your knees were against your chest as Clark thrusted the silicone in and out of you.
You were still reeling from the all-consuming sensation of her mouth on your core. Her tongue dragged a line up your slit before latching onto your clit.
Your fingers dug into her scalp, pushing her further into your cunt, moaning so loudly that you were going to get another noise complaint.
She switched between two techniques, alternately fucking you with her tongue and slipping three fingers into your hole.
She apologized with a crooked smile, “I know, darling… I know. I just gotta prepare you for me, okay?”
Once she had given you at least three shattering orgasms, and even taken one for herself by humping against the mattress, she grabbed the harness from the nightstand, secured it around her hips, and tightened the black strap.
Clark then hovered over you, her chin still glistening with your arousal. As the dildo entered you, a gasp of air escaped from your mouth.
The sheer size of the silicone was overwhelming. She started slow, almost teasing you, inching deeper into you.
When you let out another whimper, she paused, leaning down to kiss you, forcing you to taste your own cum.
“Does it feel good, pretty girl?”
She eyed the white lines around the silicone as she pulled out of you, groaning as she could actually feel it.
“You're already milking me, honey...”
Again, a cry was torn from you, just as your spine attempted involuntarily to arch itself, despite how Clark was pinning you down.
The rhythm of the strap continued to send you into ecstasy. The smirk on her face remained, and she chuckled when you writhed underneath her.
“You’re already so far gone, sweetheart. Just making it easier to put a baby into you.”
She instantly notices the spike of your heartbeat, speeding up the pace.
“Aw, you want that, honey? Want me to fill you up? All round with my baby?
Even in your pleasure-addled haze, you nod deliriously, your breath hitching while she begins to pound harder.
As she does, her eyes trail down to your lower stomach.
“Ohhhhh, sweetheart…. Look at that.”
You weakly lift your head to look, Clark moves one of her big hands from your legs, pressing gently against your gut.
At the apex of your abdomen, a bulge appears whenever she thrusts forward.
You whimper as you watch, especially when she decides to decrease the pace, ignoring your breathless pleas to continue the rhythm.
Once she’s satisfied with herself, she moves faster again. As her hips snap forward, she discovers that the bulge becomes more pronounced.
Your walls tightened around the silicone as she continued to bury herself into you, losing all sense of rhythm while sounds of wet friction echo throughout the bedroom.
The thick base of the strap abuses your pussy, hammering that sweet spot, causing you to see stars whenever you close your eyes.
"Oh my God, Clark—"
She can sense it—and see it too, with her X-ray vision.
“Come on, sweetheart… cum for me… give me a baby… please.”
Her pelvis grinds as your inner walls start to spasm. The climax is incredibly close, ready to engulf you.
Clark coos at you, “That’s it, baby. Gosh, you’re perfect… gonna make a great mom, y’know that?”
Her words help the coil in your gut start to snap. Your vision whites out so completely that for a minute, you see God.
“Oh, Clark! R-right there! Right the—”
She shoves forward, with the heavy pressure against your pubic bone triggering the reservoir within the dildo.
Right as you cum, the waves crash over your body and completely soak the silicone, it shoots deep into your hole, flooding you entirely.
The sudden pulsing rush of fluid makes you gasp, eyes snapping wide open. You shudder as Clark ensures that every drop doesn’t go to waste.
“Gotta make it stick, baby… need you pregnant.”
To muffle your cries, she uses her most effective trick: kissing you.
She maintains the relentless rhythm before gradually slowing down, allowing you to breathe again and placing your legs flat on the bed.
Your hands finally reached for her, pressing against her bare back, fingers splayed across it as she rested her forehead against yours.
She listened to your heart rate begin to settle with hers, effortlessly continuing to keep the silicone in you.
Eventually when Clark pulls out, remaining close, a gush of fluid leaks out of you.
Both of you look down at it, before breaking out in soft giggles. You flush hard, immediately hiding your head into the side of her neck.
She presses a kiss to your temple, her smile reflecting a sense of peace.
I LOVE BUTCH CLARK FICS OMGGGGGG, I cannot get butch Clark kent out of my head. Thank u to all the butch clark writers out there, I see u, and I adore u.
summary: clark is a vigilante trying to solve a recent series of murders, but she can't seem to get her story straight around you
word count: 2.3k
content warning: clark is a vigilante, smallvillie, could be viewed as pre-super(wo)man, reader is a college student who lives on a farm, murder mentioned but not in detail, making out, on the counter(!!!), fingering, brief aftercare, not proofread
a/n: hello! this is my first butch!clark post, so i hope i do her well. thank you to @farmgirlfromkansas for introducing me to this, i'll probaly write a part two because plot
You lived the life people would dream of. Something from a vision board people work on after their 9-5 job.
A nice farm in Kansas, feeding the chickens, riding your horse, selling produce at the markets. You couldn’t have dreamed of a better life for yourself.
You were living with your parents and your brother Matthew, while you finished your degree at the local community college. You only had your courses three days a week, leaving you at the farm post for the rest of the time.
You grabbed an old bandana from your desk/vanity, tying it in your hair before you went to go feed the chickens, grabbing the seeds from the trinket box you’d found a few years ago. As you grabbed your jacket to walk out the door, Matthew knocked before slowly opening it. “I’m heading to town; do you need anything?” He asked before taking a drag from his cigarette.
“I don’t believe so.” You told him, holding the seeds in one hand. “But be safe, okay? There's all the news of that serial killer in the city and…just be safe, okay? I love you.”
He scoffed, “You sound like mom.” He said before walking towards the door.
For the past three weeks, the paper had been full of stories. Bodies found on public sidewalks, gun wounds to the chest, suspects arrested, and released the next day due to insufficient evidence.
Four people had been shot, killed, and buried with their families, with no answers.
It crossed your mind daily. You couldn’t imagine losing your family like that. You lit candles for them every night, hoping for an answer.
After you came back inside from caring for the animals, feeding the chickens, checking the newborn barn cats, refilling the animals' water bowls, along with all the less glamorous tasks and walked over to the kitchen sink to try and get the dirt from under your polished nails.
As you grabbed your lotion, there was a knock at your front door. You sighed, wiping off your hands on the towel hanging before walking to the door.
Opening the door, you were met with a woman in a flannel and dark jeans covered in mud. You didn’t recognize her, which was odd considering you knew just about everyone in town.
“Hello, darling. Are you alright?” You asked the woman. Assuming maybe she was new to town or had gotten lost on her way to somewhere else.
“Hello, ma’am, uh, I’m a volunteer trying to get information about the series of murders that have been occurring in town.” She spoke, eyes momentarily looking like a deer caught in headlights.
“Who are you a volunteer with?” You ask skeptically.
“That's not relevant, ma’am-”
“It is to me. I don’t like giving my information to people who can’t even identify themselves.”
“I’m looking for information on the recent murders occurring over in the city-”
“So you’re with the police?” You ask, raising a brow.
“Yes, well, ma’am, I just need information.” She said, tripping over all her words.
“I’m just as concerned as everyone is about the murders, but I don’t believe you have anything to do helping solve them based on…” You gestured to her. “This. Have a good day.” You told the woman before closing the door.
She stood there. “Good job, Clark.” She murmured to herself, moving her curly hair away from her face. “Great work.”
She didn’t work for the police, she didn’t work for anyone. She just wanted to help people. Technically, law enforcement called her a vigilante, she wasn’t a fan of that title. She considered it the best way for her to help the people law enforcement overlooked.
She had defaulted to lying about being involved with the police a few times to gain credibility, which typically worked. But stuttering on her words while saying it didn’t help her.
“Just try again tomorrow.” She told herself, heading to the next house in hopes they had details that would lead her to the criminal.
Three days had passed.
Your brother had arrived home safely from town, and the odd women hadn’t knocked on your door since that day.
Your parents were visiting friends out of state for the weekend, leaving you and Matthew home alone. He was preparing to go to your neighbor's home to fix their plumbing while you made your coffee from the living room, watching the news, more as background noise than anything, nothing
awfully interesting was on at this hour.
The local news anchor spoke, “Another body was found in town last night belonging to a young man. Local police have estimated it happened about two days ago and still have no leads on who the killer is. If you have information, please call at…”
You didn’t hear anything past that, muting the television and whispering, “Goodness Gracious.” You thought about your brother visiting town a few days ago, how that could have been him had he stayed longer or taken a different path.
Matthew wasn’t watching the program, or maybe just wasn’t as affected as you were, as he simply grabbed his keys. “I’m heading out. See ya later.”
“Stay safe!” You said as he closed the door without another word.
You sighed, turning off the channel in an attempt to keep yourself from crying about the families awaiting answers. You tried your best to go about your day, trying to study for your test tomorrow when you heard a knock.
You assumed it was Matthew having forgotten his tools, you opened the door and found yourself faced with the same woman once again. You tried to close the door on her, but she placed her hand on the door, her veins flexing as she grasped on, hoping you wouldn’t close it on her.
“Ma’am, please give me a second chance to explain this.”
“I don’t understand what you could explain.” You told her, making sure you had access to something to defend yourself if it came to that.
“I don’t work for the cops-” she attempted to tell you.
You cut her off. “Can’t even get your story straight?”
“I don’t work for anyone. I just want to do good.”
You opened the door a little wider, willing to hear her out. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not a cop, I don’t work for law enforcement or anyone. I just want to help people.”
“So what was the point of lying?” You ask, still skeptical but more trusting of her.
She sighed, “People tend to trust me more if I say that, as opposed to what I just told you.”
You nodded slightly, understanding where she may be coming from now. “Have you gotten any leads on the murders you asked me about?”
“A few things that might help me find who's doing this. Nothing that's led me straight to it, unfortunately.”
You sighed, glancing over your shoulder, looking inside, making sure the home was tidy enough before asking her, “Come inside, I’ll make you some tea and get you food.”
“You don’t have to do that-”
“Please. Let me. Consider it an apology for shutting you down earlier.” You told her softly.
She nodded before stepping inside and taking off her shoes and stepping inside, “Is anyone else home?” She asked, likely a courtesy question.
“Just me at the moment.” You told her as you started to boil the kettle, “Do you have a preference for what tea you want?”
“I’m alright with anything.” She said, carefully standing by the table, not yet sitting down.
You laughed slightly as you noticed her hovering, “You can sit down. Do you have allergies?”
She shook her head, sitting down. “I’m Clark.”
You gave her your own name as you started making her a platter, cutting fruits, placing deli meats and cheese slices as you. “Do you have a way to protect yourself out there?” You asked. “I imagine law enforcement doesn’t like you too much, and the criminals must want you gone too.”
She smiled, “I protect myself well. Thank you for your concern.” Her voice was genuine, grateful that someone was concerned about her well-being. “I’ve gotten out of fights before.”
You nodded, trying not to pry into this stranger you’d invited into your home, simply placing the platter on the table for her. She thanked you while you poured the boiled water into the mug, placing a herbal tea bag in the mug.
Clark looked up at you, “What do you do for work?” She asked in an attempt to make small talk.
“I’m getting my degree over at the college. I was working and studying before you knocked. What about you?”
“I do some freelance journalism, but I spend most of my days doing this. My ma and pa support me lots.”
You nodded, handing her the tea. “What do they think about all this?”
She laughed a bit, taking a sip of the tea. “They’re concerned, but they understand that I need to do this.”
The two of you discussed more, her relationship with her parents, your degree and coursework, and the horrifying events occurring in the city that had haunted both of you.
Clark was a sweet woman, even if she was a bit reserved. She was close with her ma and pa, speaking highly about them without a single backhanded comment towards them. She spoke about her cousin Kara and dogsitting for her pet.
She asked you about your courses and your motivation behind choosing your major. She complimented your family's farm and the animals' friendliness. You joked that she should come back some time and meet them, you noticed the slight flush in her cheeks at that but attributed it to the changing temperature
“Are you finished with the tea?” You asked, offering to wash it.
She nodded, thanking you as you took the mug and washed it with warm water.
“Thank you, you really didn’t have to invite me in and do all of this. You’re very kind.” She told you.
“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.” You told her, wiping your hands off and turning to her. “Do you need anything else?”
She nodded, swallowing before asking, “May I kiss you?”
You laughed a bit, not out of a hateful place, but out of shock. Clearly she didn’t pick up on that.
“I’m sorry I came on too strong-”
You cut her off, grabbing her face and pulling her lips against yours. Her hand found its way to your waist, the other holding the back of your neck as she kissed you back.
Once she finally got her soul back into her body, she took over the kiss, using your neck to gently guide you to kiss her deeper as she slipped her tongue into your mouth, the hand on your waist sliding up your body, feeling you through the fabric of your dress.
You moaned, tangling your hands in her curls, letting her move you to sit up on the counter so she could stand between your legs. She took the hem of your dress, sliding it up in one hand while the other held your hip to keep you from falling off.
She pulled back to look at you, catching your breath, the way you tried to chase the adrenaline high of her lips. “We don’t have to do this.” She told you.
“I want to.” You told her without a moment of hesitation, “As long as you do, I want to, Clark.”
She nodded like it was an obvious choice. “Can I take off the dress?”
You nodded rapidly, letting her take off the fabric and place it on the floor before kissing you again, hungrier this time. Not holding back now, knowing you wanted this just as badly as she did.
One hand stayed on the back of your neck so she could guide your head to kiss you and get all of the beautiful noises out of you, striving to discover all of them. The other hand was messing with your bra clasp before it loosened around your chest, she slid the fabric off of your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with your dress.
She unbuttoned her own flannel, letting you see her toned body and black spots bra covering her chest. She moved to kiss down your neck and shoulders, savoring the noises you made like they were the sweetest noises she had ever heard.
She wrapped her mouth around your nipple, letting herself get lost in the sensations your body made for her. With you blissfully distracted by the sensation in her chest, she moved your underwear to the side, rubbing her hand up your thigh while her finger gently played with your clit before slipping her index finger into your folds.
You groaned with pleasure, throwing your head back, gripping one hand on the counter while the other grabbed onto her toned waist.
“You’re okay, pretty girl.” She whispered, slipping another finger in as she pressed kisses onto your neck. “Just let me take care of you.”
She kept the motion of her fingers, repeating the sensation flawlessly as she kissed your neck, feeling the vibration from the noises leaving your body.
“Clark…” You whined, letting you know you were getting close.
“It's okay, baby. Let go.” You told you pulling back from your face to watch you fall apart at the thrust of her fingers.
She slowed down her motions as you rode the high before gently withdrawing her fingers. “Where do you keep the towels?” She asked.
You pointed in the direction of the cabinet as you caught your breath, not noticing her grabbing a washcloth to apply warm water. She picked you up like it was nothing, placing you on the couch and cleaning you.
“I’d like to come back over sometime.” She told you. “To see if you have more case information, of course.” She said with a smile.
“I’ll let you know if you do.” You smiled back before sighing, “My brother will be coming home soon; you should probably go.” You told her.
“Just a few more minutes.” She said, wrapping her arms around your torso.
Lana catches butch!Clark staring at her mouth and to give both of them an out (because she noticed that Clark noticed that she noticed, and things are about to get awkward) she says "oh, do you want to borrow my chapstick?" and Clark goes "uh. ha. yeah. yeah."
and because it's been half-legitimised to look but also she's bashful about having been caught she keeps sneaking glanced back at Lana's lips and darting her eyes away again to where she's pulled out her chapstick, and then her eyes fix on that when Lana takes the cap off and slowly rolls out the tube. Clark had thought she was just going to pass it over, but then, slow-sudden, Lana's hand is delicate against her chin, holding her steady.
"keep your mouth soft," Lana instructs, and she's pleased but not surprised when Clark's mouth slackens even further. She always sees Clark grow softer around her, gentler, calmer. She's a gentle guy all the time, apart from when she leaps into action, but Lana's seen her shoulders visibly relax when she makes her presence known in her barn. It feels good, being able to make her feel at ease. It feels good to make her feel other things, too. Lana presses the chapstick against Clark's bottom lip, pushing it slowly and smoothly, watching how Clark's skin shifts with her motion. She does her top lip, and finds herself wishing she had brought lip balm instead, so she could be feeling Clark breathe against her finger. Clark's lips have a shine to them as Lana pulls back, and she leaves her mouth open, awaiting her next instruction. If she stood on tip-toe, Lana could swipe her tongue into that open mouth. Her fingers start to shake as she rolls the stick back down, so she hides her hands behind her back, refitting the cap with practiced ease.
"go like this," she tells her, flattening her own lips together, and clasping her hands tight together when Clark copies her, her plush lips quickly going back into shape. "It looks good. it looks good on you."
Clark wants her. She knows that. She's always known it, ever since they first started hanging out. Here, with Clark's pupils wide in the dark of her barn, and her lips shiny and her mouth open, Lana knows it the most. If she pressed her thumb up against one of Clark's canine teeth, it would be sharp, but she wouldn't bite her. And if Lana climbed up on her wide, strong body, Clark would hold her up, under her thighs and -- she has to go, now, before she does something she can't blame on dry lips.
"well, I'll see you at school tomorrow, right?" She ducks her head to pretend to look in her purse for a moment, to avoid seeing the hurt in Clark's face fall before she affixes a more decent expression.
"yeah. let me know if algebra is still kicking your ass, we can do a lunchtime study session before the test." Clark's voice is steady. Calm. Even a little happy. It's safe to look back at her now, which Lana is glad for, although a small, dark part of her wishes Clark had more trouble stuffing herself back into the friendship role they'd assigned each other. Maybe if Clark would just grab her and kiss her, this thing would be easier to handle. Then again, if she did that, she wouldn't be Clark.
"I'd like that," Lana confirms, and, as a conciliatory gesture to that small, dark part of her, nips out her thumb to brush away some imaginary excess from under Clark's mouth. She pretends not to notice Clark's sharp intake of breath, and pretends not to notice Clark's gaze following her route out of the barn, and pretends not to notice that Clark noticed that she noticed.
summary: your girlfriend starts working at the metropolis fire station and it becomes the best and worst thing that has ever happened to you.
word count: 3.1k words
tag list: @punksnotdeadbutiam, @unabashedlyinlovewithyou, @whotfisthatsblog, @wildernessmuse, @starwarsbian, @lilacsandlavenderhaze, @florayli, @cerezzzita, @gingerfemme22 & @peachyvillehorror wanna be added?
content warning: 18+ only!! firefighter!clark obviously. reader gets very desperate and horny (so does clark at one point). no use of y/n. CLARK HAS A MULLET!!! (got inspired by all the man of tomorrow bts pictures of david @kryptidfiles and @maiamore were posting. thank you darlings!!) sub top!clark if you squint real hard, oral sex (r!receiving), and some light fingering (r!receiving) too. light BDSM and restraints. clark kent loves your tits. VERY brief mention of the strap. TRIBBING <333
a/n: hiiii guys!! i am so fucking sorry for not posting as much as i used to. my life has gotten so busy lately and writer’s block is definitely kicking my ass. i hope everyone enjoys this! i apologize if it’s rushed. i’ve been trying my best to finish this and my brain has been slowly rotting away i fear 😭. if there’s any glaring issues, let me know!!
LISTEN TO THE SONG FOR THE FULL EXPERIENCE
You never understood the appeal of firefighters. Or firemen, to be more specific.
When your mother used to take you on errands growing up, she’d pass the fire station and slowly glance at the men on duty, as if they were something sacred, something worth staring at.
It even followed you into adulthood. Your friends would ramble about their fantasies involving “hot firefighters.” You’d bite down on your tongue and let them indulge, not wanting to be an asshole.
You just never got it. It felt like you were missing some inside joke nobody bothered to explain.
That was until your girlfriend decided to become one.
You only meant to drop by for a second.
Clark had forgotten her lunch in the fridge, and even though she could go without food for months, it was the perfect excuse to visit her.
Once you walked inside the building, you were met with noise, heat, and motion. Men with what could only be described as porn-staches and fresh buzz cuts eyed you as they sized you up.
Most of them were lounging around the bay, laughing or clapping each other on the shoulders while you stood there with a tight-lipped smile, looking for Clark.
Eventually, one guy leaning against a counter noticed you and flashed a grin.
He pushed off the counter. “You’re Kent’s girl. I remember you from the pictures…”
You immediately covered your face with your hand, mortified.
Pictures?
Of course she did.
He jerked a thumb toward the back. “Yeah… she talks about you all the time. We all tease her about it. Want me to go get her?”
You were still flustered. “Uh, yeah. She forgot her lunch today. Is she in the back?”
The man nodded. “Yup, training bay. She’ll be right out.”
Moments later, Clark ran out from somewhere, glowing. A few other guys followed behind her, curious to see you in person.
She didn’t hesitate before folding you against her chest and lifting you off the ground.
“Hi, sweetie!”
Somebody behind her whistled.
“Ooo, Kent’s got company.”
Clark ignored them, murmuring into your ear as she set you down.
“Thought I heard your heartbeat outside.”
You chuckled as she pulled away. When she did, you finally got a good look at her.
She was wearing a tight black shirt stretched over her shoulders. It was damp in places that made you wonder if she had just come off a drill. Her bunker pants sat heavy on her hips while the utility straps hung loose at her sides. Aviator glasses rested on her face despite being indoors.
Your mind blanked.
You forgot what you were supposed to be doing—why you came here.
You almost forgot how to stand.
And the mullet—
Fucking hell.
It lay messily at the nape of her neck, curls falling forward just enough to make it unfair.
You didn’t remember having this sort of reaction when you saw her in the super-suit.
Clark’s eyes trailed down to the lunch bag.
“Is that my lunch?”
Despite her question, your attention was snagged on the way her arm muscles flexed as she pointed, and the traces of soot smudged across her forearms. It made your heartbeat spike.
She turned her head, a faint smirk tugging at her mouth.
“You okay?”
You regained focus, stuttering, “Y-yeah… Um, you forgot it… in the fridge… this morning.”
She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “Thank you, darling.”
The next week was utter madness.
Your girlfriend in a firefighter uniform had completely rewired every inch of your mind and body. Now you were hoping to undo it through logic.
You tried subtle things first.
“Hey, do you think you could come home early? I made your favorite. Breakfast for dinner!”
“The oven’s acting up again.”
“Think there’s a spider in the shower. Come quickly!!!”
Unfortunately, she responded to all of it with the same infuriating calm.
“Sorry, honey. I can’t tonight. Rain check?”
“Maybe get our neighbor to do it. He’s pretty handy. Good luck.”
“Can’t right now, babe. In the middle of training. Just use a piece of paper and a cup and put it outside. Don’t need to kill the poor thing.”
You even tried sending pictures of yourself in bed, hair fanned across the pillow, giving her a glimpse of your bare shoulder as your bralette strap slipped down your arm.
Missed you this morning. The bed’s so cold without you.
Clark only responded with:
Miss you too, pretty girl. Try stealing my pillow. Love you.
You frowned at your phone as it dawned on you that she just might be immune to the spell you’d been tirelessly casting on her.
The night it did happen, you weren’t actually trying. Well, maybe a little bit.
You were in the kitchen, hunched over your phone on the counter, debating whether you followed the recipe correctly. It was supposed to be something simple and comforting.
Just a little roasted dinner.
But once the burnt smell filled your small kitchen, you began to think you’d be the first person to give Superwoman food poisoning. You were already dashing toward the oven when the smoke came.
As you snatched a nearby dish towel and began flapping it around, the beeping from the smoke alarm echoed throughout the apartment.
“Shit—no, no, no—”
You yanked open the oven door and pulled out what was supposed to be your dinner, setting it on the stove. You glared at the pan, your chest tightening with disappointment.
“This was supposed to be nice,” you muttered as tears threatened to spill.
Here you were standing in the middle of your kitchen wearing a sundress in Clark’s favorite color, having cooked the food to the point where you couldn’t even eat it yourself.
Right as you were about to completely lose it, the living room window slid open and Clark flew in. When she found you, you were pacing.
“Baby?”
You stopped in your tracks, your head snapping toward her voice. The mere sight of her in that damn firefighter uniform made something inside you unclench.
You let out a weak hello when she gently reached for you. Clark hooked an arm around your shoulders to comfort you.
“I heard the alarm first… then your heartbeat.” Her voice eased against your temple. “I was so scared.”
You whimpered, leaning into her as you waved toward the stove.
“I’m sorry… I tried to make dinner, and I thought I had it, but I didn’t, and then it started smoking, and I think I messed up the timing, or the temperature, or maybe I just—I don’t know, I thought… it was finally your night off… and I’d do something nice for you.”
Clark listened, her expression softening as you rambled.
“And I wore your favorite dress, which sounds ridiculous now that I’m saying it out loud, because—”
She cut you off with a kiss.
It wasn’t rough or unrestrained, just tender. She didn’t do it to unravel you, but to bring you back. She anchored you there with her, the grip firm on your waist. It wasn’t possessive. It was only Clark hoping to dull the noise for you.
The charred scent of smoke and the screeching wail of the alarm became barely noticeable.
Clark breathed steadily against your ear.
“It’s okay, darlin’… I’ve got you here with me.”
That landed heavier than everything she had said all week, making your breath shake. Her thumb moved gently at your waist.
“Come on, breathe for me… It’s okay.”
The grounding tone of her voice compelled you to indulge in a familiar sense of nirvana.
Your vision steadied, then dropped to her body. Your fingers curled lightly into the front of her shirt as the ache in your chest worsened after tracing a soot mark across her cheek with your gaze.
She murmured while peppering kisses against your neck.
“There she is… there’s my girl.”
You groaned, cranking your neck sideways to give her more access. If it were even possible, her arm tightened around you. Clark’s lips dragged back to the shell of your ear as her hands roamed your backside.
“I’ll get the smoke alarm, and you go on to bed. I’ll be in soon… Alright, sweet girl?”
You nodded, half-adrift, obeying her like a loyal Dalmatian.
You were lying in bed, clutching the bedsheets to your bare chest, listening to Clark’s heavy footsteps outside your bedroom as she disabled the smoke alarm, your dress folded somewhere at the foot of the bed.
In the silence that followed, she slipped back through the crack of the door. Her eyes found yours immediately, her mouth curving into a smile.
She remained silent as she glided through the room to your shared dresser. Anticipation coiled through you as the drawers opened and fabric rustled faintly.
Your back straightened when she turned toward you with one of her ties in hand. Though you had always known this was where it was headed, your breath still caught.
Clark walked over to your side of the bed and stopped beside you. She held the tie loosely between her fingers, bringing it to your wrists.
She wraps the wide blade of the fabric twice around your skin. Without pinching you, she crossed it to secure it in place and guided your hands to the headboard. Clark looped the tie around the iron railing twice before tugging it into a firm knot.
Then she leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Good girl.”
She unbuckled her bunker pants, letting them fall to her ankles. Clark stepped out of them as she pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her in just her sports bra and boxers.
She peeled the bedsheets off you, eyeing how your body was only half covered with your lacy underwear.
Clark couldn’t hold back from kissing along your neck as she straddled you. “Impatient, darling?”
A trembling whimper escaped you, “F-fuck you.”
She places a featherlight kiss on the swell of your breast, amusement coloring her voice, “I’m trying.”
Her mouth finally latched onto your breast, enveloping it wholly, circling your nipple with her tongue, earning a groan from her.
Clark moved to your other tit, mirroring the same attention she had given the first one, while one of her hands slowly moved to your underwear.
You whined as she cupped your clothed cunt, the wetness of it already coating her fingers. She squeezes it when she feels you rub against her hand.
Clark cooed at you while kissing down your midriff, saying, “Oh, I know, sweetheart… already feels good, huh?”
You nod, letting out another soft, high-pitched gasp, “Y-yes… just stop teasing me.”
She snickered, pulling the gusset of your panties to one side. “As you wish, my love.”
Your head snapped back into the pillow, straining within the tie’s hold while she licked a stripe up your center. Her tongue, flat and broad, parting you like the Red Sea.
“Easy, easy, baby,” Clark crooned, her hands sliding beneath your thighs as she guided your legs over her shoulders. “Seems I’ve neglected you for too long.”
She moans into your cunt, sending vibrations throughout your aching body. She eats you out like her whole purpose on this earth was to do this.
And with how the bed began to shake—not from you, but from her rolling her hips against the mattress—you squeeze your thighs around her head.
Her mouth closes in around your sensitive nub while she slips one finger into your hole. You cried out, “Shit, C-Clark…”
She curls her finger as she begins pumping it in and out of you, hitting that one spot that turns you into a giant puddle underneath you.
Your orgasm is near; you can feel it in the way your thighs clench, your back arches, and your jaw falls slack as incoherent praises spill from your mouth.
Like always, she can sense it.
You know she does by the way her free hand holds your hip, keeping you grounded. Clark adds a second finger, doubling down on her efforts.
She whispers against your clit, “Come on, sweetheart… soak my face. Wanna taste it so bad.”
Anchoring yourself in the rapture, it engulfs you, leaving you gasping and trembling as though you’re drowning in it. It’s unlike what your hands have been trying to replicate for the past week.
Still chasing her own release, Clark continued to lap at you even as you shook uncontrollably. You have to physically push her off, bringing your foot up to her shoulder and nudging her.
Reluctantly, she presses a kiss to your inner thigh before crawling up your body. When she looms over you, leaning closer—her mouth isn’t the only thing that’s damp.
There’s a wet patch in the crotch of her boxers, and her glassy eyes are filled with desperation. You were just about to tease her when she beat you to it, silencing you with a firm kiss.
You hummed into the kiss as you tasted yourself on Clark’s lips. Her hands scrambled to undo the tie around your wrists. She needed your hands on her. Your fingers in her hair. Your nails down her back.
Without hesitation, you cupped her face, matching her intensity. She gave a broken, needy little sound, involuntarily bucking into you. The slight friction sends you both reeling.
Usually, she’d lean over toward the nightstand and pull out the strap, and fuck you until you were left hollow and sobbing for more. But she was craving something more visceral.
You help Clark pull her boxers off and throw them across the room. She pushes your knees up to your chest, dragging her slick folds against yours as she nestles into the side of your neck.
Her clit catches yours, already tender. Clark’s voice is muffled, but you understand her perfectly.
“Please, baby… I’m so close… Can you do it again… for me?”
You try to nod, your voice fracturing as she speeds up. With how fresh your last orgasm was, you were still coming undone.
“Yes, Clark… Oh, God…”
She speeds up her pace, grinding her pussy into yours vigorously—refusing to cum without you.
Your eyes flicker down momentarily, widening at the sticky string of arousal that’s clinging between you two.
Soon, Clark’s thrusts become sloppy, erratic, and ragged. You attempt to muster the strength to get each other there, but you can’t. You’re too limp even to move.
She doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, staying close to you. The knot wound tight within her is on the verge of snapping, occupying every corner of her mind.
You’re right behind her, breathlessly showering her with praise. “D-doing so good, Clarkie… right there… Fuck.”
Once you both reach your peak, you swear you see stars. But this time it’s far more intense. It’s almost otherworldly, similar to your girlfriend who’s shuddering above you.
Barely riding out the aftershocks, Clark collapses onto you, still overwhelmed by how good your smile feels. Something she knows she’ll never get over.
She scatters kisses along your face and jaw, playing with your hair as she rolls onto her side of the bed beside you—the spot that’s felt unbearably empty without her.
You watch her with a dazed grin, giggling when her touch tickles you. “I can’t believe you..”
Clark raises a brow, smirking, “Me? What about you? You’re not exactly subtle, y’know?”
You shrug, cuddling into her, “Was never trying to be.”
Clark’s eyes grudgingly opened, hearing something vibrate in the bedroom. It wasn’t loud or sharp, just annoyingly persistent. She reached for the source of the noise.
In the shadows of city lights spilling through the windows, she saw you still asleep, curled against her chest. The buzzing started again.
By the third time, she realized it was most likely her phone. Clark sighed dramatically as she adjusted her grip on you, leaning over you toward her bunker pants to grab it without waking you.
You stirred instantly at the feeling of your sleepy firefighter girlfriend shifting slightly on you.
She immediately felt guilty, pressing a kiss to your shoulder while gently coaxing you back to sleep. “It’s okay, honey… don’t worry.”
You nodded drowsily, a soft noise slipping into her warm skin as the phone buzzed once more.
Clark grabbed her pants, leaning over you, digging through the front pockets to find her phone.
As soon as she found it, she glanced at the bright screen and frowned.
It was one of the guys she worked with, Kyle.
She settled back onto the bed, sliding her thumb across the screen, answering the call, tightening her hold on you.
Still careful not to wake you, she whispered, “Hey, man. What’s up? It’s late.”
For a second, she didn’t hear anything. Until…
“Where the hell did you go, Kent? The whole crew has been looking for you.”
Clark closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Even across the city, Kyle’s voice managed to stay grating. Still, she did feel bad—at the thought of everyone worrying over her.
“Shoot, I’m sorry. I had something to take care of at home. I thought we were done.”
Kyle snorted, not buying it. “Yeah, sure, clearly we weren’t. Let’s hope the boss doesn’t tear you a new one when you get back.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she picked up from you, and ran a hand through her curls. “How bad is it?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. You know how stoic he usually is. You’ll have to find out on your own.”
Clark stiffened as you mumbled something unintelligible into her, hoping Kyle didn’t hear it—knowing that was the last thing she needed to be teased about.
“Right.”
He hummed dryly, “Yeah… you’re in for it.”
She groaned, “I know, I know, I know.”
Kyle chuckled before hanging up. “Oh… and Kent?”
“Yes?”
“Say hi to your girlfriend for me.”
Clark choked, staring down at her phone as silence flooded the apartment for three seconds before you shifted against her, whimpering into her chest.
“Baby, I’m cold…”
Clark softened, embarrassment and annoyance melting away as she pulled the sheets up around you.
“Oh, sweetheart… I got you. Go back to sleep.”
But when she lifted her head, she realized both of you were mid-air. Several feet above the bed.
She froze, holding you tightly. And for once in her life, Clark Kent had absolutely no idea what to say.
summary: clark comes into contact with red kryptonite and spends the next week making your life a living hell.
word count: 3.0k
tag list: @punksnotdeadbutiam, @unabashedlyinlovewithyou,@whotfisthatsblog,@wildernessmuse, @starwarsbian, @lilacsandlavenderhaze, @florayli, @gingerfemme22, @peachyvillehorror, @cerezzzita, @kryptidfiles, @garrettgr4h4m, @rynwritesstuff, & @bellathebookdevouer | wanna be added?
content warning: 18+ only!!! clark’s temporary personality alteration by red kryptonite (obviously), angst, emotional manipulation, hurt/comfort. ROUGH SEX. she gets real mean in this one, okay?? degradation, use of a vibrator, oral sex (r!receiving) and tribbing <333 this is a happy ending, i promise. i did not mean to make the beginning so sad. like always not proofread!! we die like men.
a/n: heyyyy guys. was craving for some mean clark a few days ago and forgot i had this in my drafts. I KNOW, I KNOW, another beyoncé song fic. i’ve been listening to her a lot lately. i was also supposed to let clark use her powers on the reader in this but i kinda forgot. I’M SORRY!! hope you guys like this 💕💕. comments and reblogs are always appreciated.
LISTEN TO THE SONG FOR THE FULL EXPERIENCE
You stood on your tiptoes, almost buzzing against Clark’s desk as the warm paper cup in your hand warmed your fingers. It was her favorite order.
Two sugars and a splash of cream. Sickeningly sweet, just like her. Sure, she was running late, but waiting for her always came naturally to you.
Once you spotted her stepping through the elevator doors minutes later, your easy smile softened. Your eyebrows knitted together, inspecting her carefully.
Her posture was the same—broad shoulders beneath her typical Monday navy button-down, dark curls, glasses resting perfectly on her nose, and a copy of The Daily Planet tucked against her chest.
But something within you felt uneasy.
She just looked so…
Wrong.
Still, you didn’t let it show as she approached her desk, weaving through the sea of coworkers. When Clark finally towered over you and you offered the cup to her, you caught a glimpse of her eyes.
“There you are, baby.”
The same ocean-blue eyes you’d spent countless mornings getting lost in before she had to go save the world again.
They were still blue, but you could have sworn you noticed the faintest of red in them, like shattered ruby beneath glass.
She stared at you, almost as though she were looking right through you. Still, you persisted, nudging the cup against her hand.
“Thought I’d rescue you… I missed you last night.”
Nothing.
Not even the familiar blush that usually crept up the back of her neck.
Trying not to seem desperate already, you bit your lip as you continued, your voice dropping a little. “It was so cold in bed without you… Just me lying there in that stupid itchy lingerie.”
Usually, Clark would choke before looking around to make sure Lois and Jimmy hadn’t overheard, then lean close enough to mumble, “Don’t say things like that at work.”
Instead, she took the coffee. Her usually warm fingers, the ones that always sent shivers down your spine, were now completely cold and rigid, eerily similar to her current demeanor.
She brushed past you, nudging you aside to get to her chair.
“Seems like you survived.”
You blinked, still staring at her as she slipped behind her desk.
Normally, when you heard those words from Clark, it was in the comfort of your apartment, usually when she was feeling mischievous or flirty.
Today was neither.
She wasn’t even looking at you—your usually adoring girlfriend, who had earned a reputation around the office for never being able to stop gazing at you, even before you started dating.
Her computer wasn’t even on.
She just sat there, refusing to look at you.
Around you, conversations continued uninterrupted. Someone laughed across the room. Jimmy argued with the copier.
The world kept moving while yours paused.
Her flat voice pulled you out of the spiral.
“Are you just gonna stand there with your head up your ass, or actually do something?”
Your jaw slackened, like the wind had been knocked out of you as your heart folded inward.
A painful silence followed while you were too stunned to speak.
“Um… Right. Sorry, sweetie.”
Nothing.
Quietly, you walked back to your desk.
Towards the end of the week, the biggest question around the office was: who was this person, and what had she done to Clark Kent?
The woman who was kind enough to apologize to the copy machine after kicking it had become insufferable.
When she wasn’t brooding at her desk, she was answering people’s questions with clipped sentences or correcting them without softening the blow. She dismissed meetings halfway through after claiming they weren’t worth her time.
Even when Jimmy joked about why she didn’t bring coffee for anybody anymore—
Clark replied flatly with, “Because you’re all capable adults. Figure it out yourselves.”
Lois didn’t even playfully argue with her, too afraid that she was going to get her head bitten off. Instead, she asked you, “What crawled up Kent’s ass and died?”
You stopped talking to her, bringing her coffee, or waiting for lunch after the fourth message went unanswered.
At first, you wrote it off as her having a few bad days, because how long can someone keep their sanity while carrying the weight of the world without cracking? You wouldn’t blame her.
But this was different.
She barely acknowledged you, pretending you were nothing but another coworker, glaring at you with those strangely bright eyes.
And when she did mutter anything to you, it was either “Go away.” or “You’re in the way.”
It always left you in a state of shock. You never answered with a comeback—you simply wandered off, looking back at her over your shoulder with wide eyes, as if you’d just crossed paths with a wild animal.
Her temper had gotten so bad that it even affected her work.
You and Lois would stand in front of the break room television, watching Superwoman argue live on the news, even bickering with Mr. Terrific and baiting the poor man.
Lois stood with crossed arms and raised eyebrows, leaning over to you.
“I think there’s something wrong with your girlfriend.”
Later, when Clark filed her latest Superwoman story, Perry rejected it outright, saying it was unacceptable and that she’d gotten cocky with her writing.
On the tenth day, you began looking up if Kryptonians could get possessed by demons.
You both always joked that her apartment was haunted, with how old and creaky it was. Whereas yours was just now haunted without her scattered ties, forgotten books, and the constant warmth of her presence.
So obviously, that had to be it.
Your girlfriend was just possessed.
But that didn’t explain the red in her eyes.
Maybe it was just a different kind of demon.
To cope with a miserable week, and the terrifying thought that you might never get the old Clark back, you ordered dumplings.
So when the knock finally came, you didn’t bother checking the peephole, swinging the door open with your tip in hand.
Your polite expression for the delivery person fell away as the woman who’d been avoiding you all week stood there instead.
Her hair was wind-tossed, coat unbuttoned, with a paper bag dangling from one hand.
You pouted.
“You aren’t my dumpling delivery.”
Her eyes narrowed as she lifted the bag.
“You mean this?”
You blinked before snatching it from her hand and retreating into your apartment, having a nagging feeling she was going to follow you in.
“What happened? Scare off the delivery guy?”
Clark didn’t answer immediately, watching you place the bag on the counter.
“No. I passed him in the lobby, smelled the dumplings, and figured I’d save him the trip.”
You groaned.
“I had a twenty-dollar tip for him, Clark. You know I like to tip them extra.”
She shrugged out of her coat, dropping it onto your couch, earning a scoff from you.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you.”
“Thank you,” she replied, mirroring your sarcastic tone.
You glared.
“…Seriously?”
Clark looked at you over the rim of her glasses.
“What?”
“What do you mean, ‘what?’”
You let out a disbelieving laugh.
“You’ve spent the last week acting like an absolute asshole. You ignored me, my texts, everything. You don’t get to…”
You gestured wildly around your apartment.
“Come here, uninvited mind you, throw your coat on my couch like a stray dog, and act like everything is fine. Fuck you!”
Clark’s expression never wavered, simply watching you let it all out.
It made your stomach twist.
That was the part that confused you most.
Not the coldness, or the sharp tongue, hell not even the strange crimson that’s been flickering beneath her eyes all week.
It was how casual she was.
“You don’t get to pretend nothing happened,” you said, voice thick with crying.
“I know.”
“You don’t get to just show up and—”
She was moving before you finished—three long strides.
Your back met the edge of the counter.
“Clark—”
“Shut up.”
Your breath caught.
“I am trying to be mad at you.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re doing a terrible job.”
“Clark—”
She cut you off, kissing you in the most unexpected, possessive way possible.
By the time your brain caught up, her hands had already found your waist.
The counter dug lightly into the backs of your thighs before the pressure disappeared altogether.
And with effortless strength, Clark lifted you onto the countertop, never breaking the kiss.
“Let me make it up to you, honey.”
Although you were still incredibly angry at her, you figured you could finish arguing with her after she fucked your brains out. You were only human; who had a rough week after all?
Clark has you pinned on your bed, tugging at your nightshirt, exposing your bare breasts.
“Have my girls missed me, sweetheart?”
Ignoring the shiver that ran all over your body, you decided to be bold.
“No… I was fine without you… Capable of taking care of myself.”
Clark harshly pinches your nipple as punishment.
“Please, you know you can’t cum without me.”
Your voice shakes, “I can.”
“Oh, yeah? With what then? Your hands? Or that cheap little toy of yours?”
The sheer terror in your eyes must have been obvious since she chuckles.
“You think I don’t know about that? Have to listen to you play with yourself while I’m across the city?”
You attempt to choke something out, but she interrupts, leaning over to your nightstand, fingers grazing the drawer where it’s hidden.
“Where is it, pretty girl? In here?”
Seconds later, Clark pulls out your vibrator and you see a dark glint flash across her eyes.
“Clar—”
She shakes her head, clicking the vibrator on the lowest setting, placing it onto your mound.
“Did you really think this cheap plastic could replace me?”
Still feeling slightly defiant, you spit, “I only used it because you’ve been a dick.”
Clark glares, the vibrator closer to your clit. The bite of the vibrator compels your hips to jerk. Even on the lowest level, it was still so intense.
“Very mouthy for somebody who is this soaked.”
Your body completely twitches and she anchors a firm grip on your thighs, growling.
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. You don’t get to move.”
The vibrator runs up and down your slit, causing more wetness to seep through the fabric of your panties.
“Clark… stop teasing me.”
“Oh honey, I still haven’t properly apologized to you yet… that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to say sorry?”
She quickly tosses it aside, making you whine at the sudden loss of friction, “I thought you were going to—”
Clark has an almost evil smirk spread across her face as she grabs your legs, settling down in between your thighs.
“Oh, I was. But you decided to be a brat… gotta fix that first.”
You gaze down at her, watching her rip your panties off you before she moves back up momentarily to guide them into your mouth.
You’re instantly met with the taste of your arousal, muffled whimpers escaping.
She pats your flushed cheek, “There. That ought to keep you from talking back.”
Going back to part your legs, her breath fans over your glistening slit as her hands claw their way onto your ass.
“Oh, look at you. So fucking wet...”
Instead of devouring you like a woman starved as you hoped, she began delivering kitten licks up your slit, marveling at your taste.
“Shit, baby… Forgot how addictive you are.”
The air left your lungs in a sharp wheeze when she ate you out, tongue wrapping around your clit.
Your shrieks are barely heard, your panties serving their purpose, gagging you as you try to slip your hand into her curls.
Clark groans into your core, the aftershocks of the vibration rocking your body. She soon oscillated between slow and deep to faster, relentless strokes against your cunt, nose grinding against your clit.
Every muscle in your body stiffens, squeezing the sides of her head with your thighs as you scream. Just as your orgasm washes over you, tears run down your cheeks.
When Clark pulls away after letting you ride through it, through the blur of your tears, you can see that her chin’s shiny.
And her plump lips were swollen, slick with her own drool and your wetness.
“Good girl.”
She quickly discards her jeans and boxers, tossing them blindly. Clark leans down to yank the underwear out of your mouth so she can kiss you.
Your legs get pushed up to your shoulders as she aligns both of your cunts seamlessly. “Sorry, honey… I need this…”
Clark’s rhythm is unforgiving, rutting into you heavily. Every single contact pushes you closer to your breaking point.
You haven’t even recovered from your first orgasm, scrambling to hold onto anything, seeking some anchor.
“Clark, I-I can’t…. It’s too much.”
She silences you into a searing kiss, driving her hips steadily forward, trapping you beneath her weight—yet your hips instinctively tilt upward to meet every single demanding downward surge.
“Fuck, this feels so good… missed this pussy.”
You endure the pressure build up once more, allowing your body to surrender, poised to make you go unconscious.
“Oh, right there… right there, Clarkie…”
She grins at how you slur, letting out a gravelly groan against your lips. Her muscles lock, shattering her restraint entirely.
The rough pace of her movements keeps you nodding as you fuck each other in perfect harmony.
“I know… I know… come with me, okay? Can you do that for me?”
Your overstimulated walls begin to spasm around nothing, sweat blooming across your forehead as you obey her, release rippling through you.
Her cum spills onto your cunt as you both crash over the edge together, breathless and entirely undone.
Clark collapses onto you, grinding her pelvis forward, even long after you both finish, acting like an untamed animal.
You have to heave her off you, using all of your mortal strength, panting through parted lips.
“Clark… get off me.”
She keeps her face buried into the soft skin of your neck, refusing to move, whining for a while—which surprises you—while feebly humping your thigh.
The movement against your thigh does slow to a halt, but Clark doesn't lift her head, tightening her thick arms around your waist.
Her uneven breathing slowly synchronizes with the steady rise and fall of your chest.
She softly mutters, “Missed you.”
When you woke up in the morning, the first thing you noticed wasn’t the golden sun spilling through the windows.
It was the familiar, empty side of your bed—the rumpled sheets and silence.
Your heart still sank, even if it wasn’t all that surprising anymore.
She’d spent over a week pushing you away before barging into your apartment and turning your world upside down.
Now she was gone.
The thought settled like lead in your stomach, kicking yourself for wishing you’d stood your ground instead of giving in to her.
You sat up, threw on your robe, and went to make a cup of coffee when you faintly heard the clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen.
Completely terrified, you stared at the bedroom door, freezing when footsteps stopped right outside.
Carefully, Clark stepped inside, balancing a wooden tray against one broad forearm. She smiled at you.
“Oh, good! You’re awake.”
Your eyes instantly dropped to the tray.
On it sat pancakes, fresh fruit, freshly brewed coffee in your favorite mug, and a tiny vase holding a single daisy that definitely hadn’t been in your apartment yesterday.
She looked…
Normal.
Her blue eyes were just blue again, none of that strange crimson lurking beneath them. No biting sharpness or dry sarcasm.
Just warm, familiar blue.
Still, you didn’t trust it.
What if she was trying to manipulate you?
Or worse… what if she wasn’t?
Her cheerful expression instantly fell at your uneasy stare, tilting her head like a confused puppy before placing the tray on the nightstand.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“You…” Your voice caught.
“You look…”
She sat beside you on the edge of the bed, her eyes scanning your face.
“Are you okay…?”
You blinked, watching in confusion as Clark pressed the back of her hand to your forehead.
“Did I… go a little too rough last night?”
The question was so painfully, unmistakably Clark that your brain stopped working.
“You don’t look sore, but I pulled out the heating pad just in case. There’s pain medicine in the kitchen if you need it.”
After a moment, Clark paused, looking back at you.
“Honey, I love you… but you’re freaking me out here.”
You reached forward cautiously, your fingertips brushing her cheek.
She leaned into your hand without thinking.
The gesture was so instinctive that something inside you finally unraveled.
A quiet laugh escaped you.
“Where’s the asshole who almost fucked me unconscious last night?”
Clark winced, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Uh… she’s… gone. I hope.”
She reached for your hand, bringing your knuckles to her lips. The touch was so gentle compared to the woman she’d been the night before.
“I’m so sorry, honey. I, um… well, the Justice Gang and I were dealing with Red Kryptonite. We contained it, and I was exposed before any of us realized it. Kara tried to stop me, but I was being stubborn and thought I was going to be fine like last time.”
You raise your eyebrows, “Last time?”
Clark sighed.
“Oh, yeah… I came into contact with some of it in high school. Smaller doses, apparently, compared to what I was exposed to this time.”
You hesitated before asking.
“Do you remember everything from the past week?”
She grimaced.
“Everything, unfortunately…”
Her eyes dropped to your hand in hers.
“I, uh… have a lot of apologies to make.”
You snorted, gently nipping at her nose. “Yeah… you do. Your one from last night was pretty terrible.”
She blushed instantly, groaning into your arm as she hid her face.
“I'll be apologizing to you until I die for that.”
You laughed, tugging her back onto the mattress beside you.
“God, you’re so dramatic sometimes.”
Clark looked longingly at the breakfast tray.
"Babe... what about your food? I worked really hard on it."
You managed to pull her onto the mattress beside you, peppering her face with kisses.
