beach safety
clark kent x fem!chubby!reader
original ask 💝 | ao3
summary: you look too good in your bathing suit on vacation.
word count: 2.4k
contains: fluff & smut. chloe/jimmy, lois/oliver, reader/clark trip to the beach. jealous & protective!clark, oblivious!reader. some grumpy behavior and horniness, some overreacting– clark is just a man guys, excuse his behavior… teasing/banter. reader is heavily implied to be a switch. *handjob, praise, the beloved bunny kink. *no use of y/n
a/n: clark you are so hungry omfg. here you go anon wrote this at midnight just for you!!!!
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Clark was not jealous. He was just concerned for your safety. Somebody had to be!
This beach could be full of criminals. Potential attackers and kidnappers. Men who could take one look at you and decide that you would be the perfect victim to wrangle away from the group and disappear without a trace. They certainly all seemed to think so by the way they stared, and he wasn’t having it.
What was worse was that you didn’t even notice. You just laid there in that ridiculous number: little bikini bottoms with two tropical flowers on each cheek, the hem pinching the plentiful skin of your hips and thighs, and a matching bikini top that did nothing to conceal the soft rolls and curves of your torso, which were so safely shrouded in a pretty blue rashguard on the walk over. Your body was a magnet. His magnet. He was rigid as a board as he surveyed the shore.
“You need more sunscreen,” Clark grunted, taking the half-empty bottle free and pulling you up by the arms.
You flushed a bit and glanced to your left, where Lois was smirking behind a dipped hat brim. She mouthed, Psycho.
“Clarkie, you sunblocked me like a half-hour ago! The stuff doesn’t wear off until eighty minutes!”
“Don’t care. You look pink. Should have listened and kept that rashguard on– sit up, bunny.”
You rolled your eyes and let him smear more sunblock on your arms, and you took the opportunity to look up at his face. His skin was perfectly golden already– Kryptonians don’t need sunblock, which was some kind of cruel trick by the universe, you decided– and his mouth was turned downward. For lack of a better word, on your nice tropical vacation with friends and drinks and absolutely nothing going wrong, your boyfriend looked miserable.
You furrowed your brow. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, moving onto your tummy. He took indulgent liberties with squeezing and kneading your flesh, and his eyes flickered around as he did so. At the group of guys down the beach knocking a volleyball around, and the other group in the opposite direction who were sipping beers, and even at his own friends. Oliver was half-asleep in a chair beside Lois with a warm soda can in his grip, and Jimmy was nose-deep in a comic anthology which he protected from the sand with his life.
“You look like a spooked cat. Or a dejected seal.”
Clark glared affectionately at you and playfully smeared some lotion on your cheek. When you scrunched your nose and swatted him away, he moaned in annoyance. Your warm skin was glittering. “That stuff is a little much, you know.”
“I like the sparkle sunscreen,” you laughed. “Seriously, baby, what is it?”
“Nothing,” he huffed, tossing the bottle back into your bag and sitting back in his chair. “Nothing.”
You gave it a second, wheels spinning with curiosity, before giving up. Clark could get this way sometimes. All rough around the edges. It usually happened when he was in an unusual environment. The beach was definitely one– being a Smallville native, all he knew were lakes. The ocean was a sprawling unknown variable before your eyes, littered with vacation boats rocking in the waves and people bobbing like apples. Maybe he was afraid of sharks. Or fun.
Shaking off the attitude, you nudged Lois’ foot. “I think I might go dip my feet in. Wanna go? Chloe?”
The spunky blonde’s head perked up, and she smiled with every tooth. “Sure! I’m pretty hot anyways.”
“Alright, fine… let’s get it over with,” Lois smirked.
As you rose to your feet, Clark watched you unwrap the nest of hair punctured by your hair clip. The sweaty strands fell like ropes of silk down your back, shining in the sunlight. His heart hammered while he protested: “But I just put sunblock on you! That’s gotta soak in!”
You sighed and threw him a glance over your shoulder as Lois and Chloe started down the searing sand toward the water. “I think my sunblock from earlier is set just fine!”
Clark sputtered softly to himself as the swing of your hips sliced the air. There you went, trotting in scraps of nylon and spandex, bearing your Hellenistic shape to the undeserving eyes of the entire Atlantic coast. He was lucky nobody chased you to the water. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably, tracking your trio.
“You know, man, she’s allowed to enjoy herself,” Oliver said, giving Clark a start. He was so convincingly napping before. “The poor girl’s just trying to have fun and you’re hounding her.”
Clark stared at Oliver with the blank expression of his ancestors. “She is enjoying herself.”
“Not with you breathing down her neck, she’s not. What’s the big idea, anyway? Can’t give her space?”
Clark waved him off dismissively. Oliver wouldn’t understand. Lois was the queen of wearing revealing things, and he wasn’t innocent of the charge, either. They were perfect for each other in a lot of ways. But you? His sweet, thoughtful girl? You wore clothes. Real clothes, frequently. Seeing you like this was entirely too jarring for Clark’s taste. It had him aching in places too vulnerable for the open air.
Oliver studied his friend’s profile. Clark’s fingers tapped impatiently on his knees while his eyes darted past your every move, watching you splash water on Chloe and whip your salted hair back, letting the water trickle beneath the tie of your top and through the crevices of your body. Suddenly, the man found himself laughing.
“What? What’s so funny?” Clark grumbled irritably.
“Dude, are you seriously jealous over your own girlfriend?”
Clark snapped his head towards Oliver. Jimmy’s eyes flicked up, too, smiling behind his book. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hey, I get it. She looks good in that–”
Clark’s face burned as his hand shot out and clapped Oliver’s mouth shut. “Watch it.”
The blond licked his palm and made the man rescind with disgust, cackling at the world’s funniest joke. “You’ve got problems, my friend.”
“Don’t look at her. In fact, just shut your eyes. Look at nothing.”
“My girlfriend is down there too!”
“Shut up,” he deadpanned, standing decisively.
Down at the water, you dunked under again, feeling the rush of cool liquid over your sizzling skin. When you came back up, Lois was picking at a knot in her hair and still pressing the topic of your boyfriend.
“I’m telling you, he’s trying to mark his territory,” she rambled, and Chloe’s laugh rang out from the waves a few feet over. “Guys get that way, seriously! The second you look too good for them, they dig their claws in. Everyone and everything is a threat.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” You swore, adjusting your swim bottoms.
“Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a bikini. Clearly Clark wishes only he could see you in a bikini.”
You flushed and argued, “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a little body positivity…”
“Of course there isn’t,” Chloe interjected, leaping to ride a small wave out. “But what Lois is trying to say is that you look great, and I think it’s making Clark nervous. You know how he gets when guys flirt with you.”
“I’m still not convinced that they do.”
“That guy in the bar last week? ‘Do you always take your drinks as sweet as you?’ Oh, please!” Lois snickered.
Wincing a bit, you admitted, “Okay, that one might have been a pick up line.”
A rushed hiss escaped from Chloe, cutting their conversation short. She raised her finger to her lips and flung a handful of water at you and Lois, suddenly grinning. “Shut up– he’s coming in!”
You turned toward the shore to see Clark in his abhorrently long swim trunks wading into the shallow shoreline. You had tried to take him shopping for a suit that fit the day and age, but he was insistent that his high-school trunks worked just fine. He had the same bothered expression on his face, and you stifled a laugh as he swam out.
“I think I’ll go make Ollie sunblock me sensually,” Lois quipped, and Chloe winked at you, following her cousin’s strokes back to shore.
Clark shot them a passing glance and dove underwater, and you watched for his head to pop up. It was only when a pair of hands wrapped around your ankles that you yelped. The water swallowed you whole, and you felt a rippling pair of arms wrap around your waist as you surfaced again, sputtering with laughter.
“Warn me next time! I could have choked!”
Clark smiled and smoothed your soaked hair from your face, revealing those shiny eyes and plump cheeks. Another stroke of unpredictability had him lunging forward with a kiss, and you grunted in surprise as his lips slotted against yours; you quickly found your way, of course, forgetting you were in the ocean and that he had nearly drowned you for the sake of joining the group.
“Mmf– Clark,” you wheezed, prying yourself free. “I mean it, what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting crazy since we left the hotel.”
“Your bathing suit,” he conceded, hands smoothing down your back.
“My what?”
“You look ridiculous in it,” he elaborated, blushing awkwardly. “Like, good. Ridiculously good. Everyone is staring at you.”
“They are not.”
“Yes, baby, they are,” he sighed, hooking a thumb under the little bow tying your bottoms to your hip. The purchase seemed to ground him. “You’re attracting all kinds of attention. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have to sit around and watch while you make the entire beach drool?”
“I hardly think–”
“I’ve been hard for like, two hours,” he grumbled, dipping his head to press kisses to your collarbone. With the next swell of water, he drew you closer, pressing his groin against your thigh. The stiffness was overt. “Please don’t tell me you intended to torture me where everyone can see.”
Oh. Oh. So that was it.
You giggled sheepishly and wrapped your weightless legs around him, reveling in the buoyancy the sea afforded you. He flushed deeper and spanned his palms over the curve of your ass, keeping you flush. With a soft press of your lips to the juncture of his jaw, you whispered in his ear, “You really think I look that good?”
“Yes, bunny, obviously,” he muttered, properly humiliated.
You were no better. How many times have you wanted to tear a girl’s head off her shoulders for ogling him at work or on the street? You understood being territorial, even if Lois thought it was juvenile. Who wouldn’t want to keep a guy like Clark all to themselves? In a twisted way, it flattered you that he loved you that much– to the point of paranoia. It was kind of cute. Maybe you were both crazy.
You made the irresponsible decision to shove your hand down his swim trunks, and Clark’s eyes shot wide open. “Bunny, you–”
“Nobody can see,” you cooed, leaving kisses down the side of his neck, “just looks like we’re kissing. Let me…”
“Can’t you get an infection or something?”
A lighthearted giggle fell from your lips. “I’m not going to fuck you in the ocean. Yes, I would, I can’t imagine getting sea water stuck up there would be good for me. But you, on the other hand…”
Clark’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt your thumb slip over the throbbing slit of his cock, nudging the pink skin like a button. “Oh, gosh…”
“You want it? I’ll be quick, I’ll do a good job, I promise,” you crooned.
“Ah– mhm. Yeah, yes, yes. Please.”
You beamed at his tone. Superman was so macho until he had a hand on his cock. Sometimes you wondered if the taboo column would ever run a poll on whether the public believed Superman whined during sex. You would never tell them the truth.
“You don’t have to worry, you know,” you murmured, wrapping a set of delicate fingers around his shaft and starting to pump. “I only have eyes for you.”
Clark was grateful for the water, because he could at least count on it to hold him up as his knees buckled. The two of you drifted about in the waves as he clung onto you for dear life, face tucked into your neck, swallowing moans as if anyone could possibly hear all the way up the beach.
“I’m glad you like my bathing suit,” you kept talking, spurring him on as you jerked his cock diligently in your hand, thumbing the head with a practiced pressure and relishing the familiar twitch of his muscles.
“Bunny, baby… oh, please…”
“You think I want anyone else looking at me? Putting sunblock on my back?” You nipped his ear, coaxing your grip on him faster. “Only you, Clarkie. Wish we were alone, wish this was a private beach… I might have just let you fuck me right there on the sand.”
Clark moaned embarrassingly loud and you covered it with a splash of your free hand in the water, laughing sweetly. His gut clenched and jumped with every twist of your palm, the short-lived response only seconds away from seeding the sea. “You’re s-so mean,” he whimpered, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “Good girl.”
“I’m gonna get nice and sunburnt, baby, so when we go back to the hotel you can peel this swimsuit off and put aloe all over me,” you promised, voice lilting like a siren call. He always liked it when you talked softly to him like this. Of the two of you, your mouth was dirtier. “You can lay me down and have me all to yourself.”
“You promise?” He panted, cock jumping. Just the thought of locking you in the room and pounding into you until the time to drag you to dinner came… “Jesus, Bunny, I’m gonna cum!”
You nibbled on his cheek and cranked down hard, and Clark’s hips bucked into your hand. You listened to the soft sounds of his moans as they gurgled against your wet skin, and in the water below, you saw little white tadpoles springing to the surface. A triumphant smile overtook your warm face.
Clark’s body was taut with release as you smiled at him, and he tugged you underwater again, digging his fingers into your sides to perform a revengeful tickle. When you came up gasping for air, he kissed you hard, mumbling a barely coherent swear: “Have your fun while it lasts, because when we get back to the room, I’m gonna make you hop.”
You flushed happily and bit his lip, feeling another wave crash over your shoulders. “Lucky me.”
