a/n; merry christmas eve to all the freaks out there, me especially
you and clark always decorated for christmas, it was one of clarks favorite things about the holidays. one of the things clark sets up every year is the mistletoe.
you know he does it just so he has an excuse to kiss you, and you find it endearing because he doesn’t need to use that as an excuse to kiss you.
he specifically placed it in the doorway of the kitchen, where the two of you walk under a lot. he stopped you every time, pointing up to it with a smile before cupping your jaw and kissing you.
which is what he did now, pointing up with that same dimpled smile, “look, guess we have to kiss now” he shrugged jokingly before grabbing the bottom of your jaw and pulling your face towards him so he could press his lips against yours.
you smiled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes. his tongue slid against yours as you deepened the kiss, tugging your fingers through his hair.
you hum against his lips as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in so your flush against his chest. his hand trails to your ass, playfully grabbing at it as his other hand rests against your neck, not squeezing, just there.
you're threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss grows sloppier. you can hear the way he’s groaning into your mouth and the way your lips smack together.
“clark” you whisper between kisses, he can hear the way you're begging in your voice he knows what you need and exactly how to give it to you. he’s tucking his hand in your pants feeling the plush of your ass against his palm before his fingers push into your hip, then they find their way to your panties, dipping below the waistline.
his thumb rubs circles into your clit, pulling a string of moans from your mouth into his, which he swallows with a kiss. his thumb dips down to your slit, collecting slick before returning at your clit applying the perfect amount of pressure as he pleases you. “so wet” he coos, pecking at your jaw as he moves away from your lips.
your hands find their place at his shoulders to help keep you up, he’s only just started but you can already feel your knees shaking with pleasure. his middle finger drags down your slit, circling your entrance before slowly pushing in all while his thumb hasn’t left your clit. your moaning as your mouth opens to an ‘o’ shape, which is pressed into his shoulders to muffle your moans.
his fingers slowly move out to the last knuckle before pushing back to the base of his finger as it curls up hooking against your g-spot. you’re a whimpering mess against him, toes aching from standing on them as he tuts at how ruined you sound. he picks you up with one hand by the waist, walking you back onto the wall where your toes just barely graze the ground as they curl.
“clark” you mewl feeling a second finger slip in pumping at an unforgiving pace, curling to touch the top of your cunt as his thumb continues to rub on your clit pulling you closer and closer to the edge. he’s whispering sweet praises into your ear about how well you're doing for him and how good you feel on his fingers. you can’t even properly reply, all that leaves your mouth is whimpers and his name.
your nails begin to dig into the muscle of his shoulder, which flexes with each curl of his fingers, you’re sure your nails would draw blood if he wasn’t indestructible. your free hand pulls at his curls giving him the sign everything he’s doing is right. “fuck- fuck don’t stop, please” you warn, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach beginning to grow tighter.
“that’s it honey, you got it” he smiles, looking up to catch your lips against his, the kiss is rough, sloppy, and all tongue and you can’t help but whine against his lips as his fingers work you through your dangerously close orgasm. your eyes brows are pushed together, and your throat is sore from the moans that he’s pulled out of you all while the ache in your stomach grows pleasantly unbearable.
he doesn’t stop, even when you're fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm hits. he doesn’t pay mind to how your thighs shake around his palm as his fingers continue to work their way through each tremor, through each desperate moan of his name. you’re crying out, slurring how it’s too much, and he’s eating it up, smirking against your neck as he pecks at your jaw before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.
he kisses you before he’s placing his slick fingers at his lips before pushing them between his lips, his tongue swirling around them and you can see the way he physically sighs at the taste. “so sweet” he mumbles before kissing you again, still smiling against your lips. “better pack for my parents' house now. you okay sweetheart?” he says it casually, like he didn’t just ruin you against the wall with just his fingers, over a stupid mistletoe.
