though one of the sexiest things about him is his mind. how much he knew, like random facts that would win you a grand prize in a game show about books or historical events. or even about you and what makes you tick. where you liked to eat and how you’d crack your knuckles. he always knew.
his attention to detail was unmatched because he is an amazing observer.
he knew you so deeply that it was like he studied you in the same way he searched for information. kept your image close to his heart and burned it to memory like a brand.
but you hadn’t yet gotten further with jason other than making out hard and panting even harder, you knew he was the type to prioritize your pleasure over his. when you started touching more intimately, he saw how much you liked him and felt more confident in how heavily he felt for you. he’d hold those moments with the same tenderness he held your hand with on your first date, devotion leaking from his pores.
but jason wasn’t prepared to see how he could completely ruin you when it translated to bed. he didn’t even know he was capable of it, though once he got a taste, he knew he was unconditionally yours. mapping out roads around your body and marking the spot that made you make the most noises. memorizing the map that led to what he really wanted.
the first time was after a week that was horribly cold and you clung to jason like a second skin. overtime, his warm hands fell to between your thighs and when you didn’t stop him, he continued. shakily, more afraid of hurting you than anything else. though entirely skilled, he knew exactly what makes you tick. every single button he pressed made the experience all the more memorable. every touch and every praise, jason made it comfortable and safe like it was his priority because it is.
now its getting hot and heavy. he’s got you pinned under him hand running up your side while he just barely restrained himself. taking your panties off of you so slowly, unwrapping you like a gift he is oh so grateful to receive.
as though he’s afraid of hurting you somehow.
dragging his heavy, weeping tip through your folds. letting the weight rest against you after prepping for what felt like eternity. the resistance is hardly there at this point, but even now, jason’s bigger than anyone could gauge. what you’d imagined in your mind was ten times fold with him and the girth he harboured was a little daunting.
“i got you princess.” he breathes. “will you let me in?”
eyes staring into his as heart shapes form in the thin air, you nod breathlessly.
you’re not one to back down from a challenge, right?
then he presses forward and kisses you at the same time, swallowing down the gasp that took your breath. only an inch inside and he’s the one shaking already, cupping your face with one hand and fisting the bedsheet by your head with the other.
the stretch is incredible. the sheer size of him both unwarranted and ridiculously impressive. but when you consider his soft spoken voice and the gentle rasp that shook you to your core, it only made your arousal greater.
he drops his head to your cheek and kisses your face gently. then he lets his lips trail down your jaw, licking down then he could tuck his head in your neck and breathe you in. rocking into you slow like he was afraid to fully seat himself inside.
jason whimpers your name softly when you tense. “ease up ma.” before letting a hand circle your clit.
“i’m sorry,” breath shakily as you wrap your ankles around his back. “you’re really big.”
something in his perfect face melts and his lips upturn. he stops his hips from moving any further.“don’t apologize to me, i should be doing that. god, please don’t tell me i’m hurting you.”
but the wait was eating you up. the feeling of him there and not giving you it all was building and the ache was defeaning.
you needed all of him.
you shake your head and try to buck into him further, but jason’s hand shifts to your hip and holds you firm. still holding himself back for some reason unknown to you. a whine slips from your lips when you try to get closer and he groans like the action was ruining him.
this time, you decide to plead. “i want it all jay”
blinking down at you, he shifts his gaze from eye to eye. needing the reassurance as though he truly believed you were saving his feelings.
“are you sure?”
you nod and part your lips, biting your lip softly as the pressure rests there. “please.”
then jason leans down and you think he’s going to kiss you. plump lips pink and swollen with tension as he washes his eyes over your face. resting his forehead on yours before closing his eyes and still not moving his hips yet. just letting the weight of what would fill you stay just in reach but out of touch.
like a threat that’s more like a promise.
“i love you so much.” he admits before pressing his lips to yours, muffling any response you could’ve had.
you moan into his mouth then, half surprise and pleasure. the feeling was unreal. the stretch around him stole the air from your lungs even though he was moving so slowly.
he pressed forward and despite the pleasureful pain it caused, letting your ankles dig into his back and pull him deeper until he was fully seated inside you. a tear slips down your face just as he parts from you to breathe and a cry escapes past your lips.
the sound is enough to startle jason. he pulls back as the tear is enough to make him second guess himself. fear echoes across on his face.
“shit—did i hurt you?”
taking a moment to compose yourself, you shake your head warily. “no,” the sound another muffled cry as he stayed impossibly still, unsure what to do.
“sweetheart, you’re crying,” leaning back trying to pull his weight off of you.
though you don’t let him move far, tightening your hold on him and locking your ankles.
“stay,” gripping him close for dear life.
his eyes stay unwavering and his hips stay still. he reaches up for your face again and brushes his thumb over your cheek before he nods at your determination.
“okay,” shakily he says. “but if it hurts—”
“it doesn’t.” you quickly interrupt. “i promise, it feels good.”
a slow smile creeps up his face. “yeah? you feel good?”
you nod again and stare straight at his lips, urging him on. slowly his resolve crumbles and he lands closer to your face to kiss you once again. pressing his perfect lips to yours like a seal and a lock.
just then he adjusts his hips, shifting them forward and rocking into you. he watches as your breath hitches and your fingernails dig into your palms. head drawing back to drown into the pillow beneath it. he groans at the slight resistance created in the friction but eases up until you let him in so easily. hands on your hips tight but not hurting, just enough to remind you where he was.
he takes your hands and pries your fingers up, interlocking them with his to distract you from the sensation. slowly inching his way inside until the tears in your eyes were accompanied by gentle moans.
then you drag him closer once again and he lets you interlock your ankles behind him.
“let me do the work,” panting by your ear. “let me show you how i love you.”
wiping your tears, his teeth shine brightly as he smiles and soothingly strokes your face. impossible gentleness from his calloused hands. when the words die, he converses with his eyes you could drown inside of.
finally he bottoms out with a soft sputter on his tongue, completely unable to mask his weight behind his heavy hips, touching your cervix from this angle. nailing dig into his hand, needing to be grounded and feel him completely, jason pants heavily. he brings your hands up higher until they rested just above your head. the loving frame he posed you in was so evident you could cry. instead, you paint him in the same light.
the ministrations resume and he moves with less restraint than you’d started with. watching how your expressions changed and the sounds escaped your lips quicker with every movement.
his deep thrusts could’ve knocked the air from your lungs but he was doing it so slowly as he inched himself further, it melted away. pleasureful bliss blooms across your skin as he kisses your neck. leaving open mouthed smooches up to your face and worked back down, surely leaving marks in their wake.
“please jay,” moaning out as though he wasn’t already fucking you. “more.”
jason fucks you like he was about to lose you then, when he looks up and sees your eyes rolling and the tear streaks on your face. letting go of your arms to lift you up and over him. he rolls onto his back and seats you in his lap, never pulling completely out, just enough that you feel what you’d need to retake.
“okay princess,” he coos. “i’ll help, yeah?”
already exhausted but willingly to please him, you grip his shoulders and start to grind down into him. he cups your ass and lifts you up, letting your weight back onto him over and over. the mix of your arousal making it easier to fuck up into you as he holds you effortlessly. shifting your hips against him weakly, jason decides to take up the task entirely but not until he really sees you struggle to fit him inside you.
a couple more whines escape you as you attempt to move, taking an inch deeper just to grind against his pelvis. minutes go by like this, when he tries to tell you it’s okay and he can do it, you shake your head like you’re already gone. then you tell him you can handle it.
both of you know you can’t.
another roll of your hips against his where a broken moan pulls him out his head causes jason’s brain to flip. he doesn’t just hold you anymore, no, he starts to get meaner. not like he wants to hurt you, but he wanted to give you what he’s wanted all night—to fuck you full.
thrusting up again and again while he watches your face contort, slowly melting onto his chest while he sits up further. moving you up and down onto him, biting his lips to control his moans when you whimper his name. then he can’t even hide that. groans and moans, gasps and sighs—they fill your ears like sinful symphony as he works himself up further. he listens to the praises you say in his ear while he does the work you should’ve, fucking up into you as though on a mission. his pace picks up as he feels you moving back into him, matching his thrusts with your own.
the peak sneaks up on you when he tangles his hand in your hair to get a look at your face. pulling just enough to see your expression and gasp when he continues his ministrations.
“i wanna watch you let go for me.” nearly whining when he admits. “you gonna let me come inside you? please?” his breathy voice coaxing you.
vigorously you nod as his pace begins to falter and his thrusts only become deeper as though he wanted to get closer.
it’s enough to spur you on. enough to push you right over the edge as you see his pink, bitten lips and the flush on his cheeks. the ruffle in his hair that proved how long this had been going on for. he looked so incredibly hot, you could die a happy woman tonight just from his good he’s fucked you.
through the peak, he carries you over, not stopping and not pausing his filthy promises. you’re clamping down around him when he sputters your name, groaning harshly and prolonging the feeling. you can feel him reaching his climax, bucking into you and movements stuttering. when he comes, you feel the pulses as he fills you. rope after rope painting you white from within. the waves of intense pleasure as his veins drag and he starts overstimulates himself. then he reaches between you to circle your sensitive bud, thrusting sloppily as you’re limp against him and throwing you into another orgasm.
practically screaming his name as you muffle a cry into his shoulder, barring your teeth and taking a bite of his supple skin. shaking as he fucks you through another climax and pushes his seed deeper inside. hand slipping off his shoulder as he slows his movements. groaning softly by your ear as he makes shallow bucks as though he didn’t want this to end.
but fucked out in his arms is his lover, drenched in sweat and slick that he didn’t know had even reached those places. and still, he was buried inside you with no indication of wanting to move.
minutes go by like this, both of you entirely spent and trying to catch your breath. he’s first to look at you and ensure that he hadn’t harmed you. eyes closed and lips parted, panting hard like you’d run a marathon as jason looks the same. leaning back further just to see the look on your face, jason kisses your forehead then.
“was that okay?” he twists at your heartstrings. “did i hurt you?”
still he was questioning himself and you were just coherent enough to shake your head and speak in a slur. “you’re perfect. my perfect boy.”
the breathy words only made him smile. his grin wide and toothy as he kisses the top of your head over and over. ignoring how your hair stuck to your head, hoping you’d do the same to him.
“sweet baby.” murmuring between his rough kisses that felt like cuteness aggression towards you. “i love you so, so much.”
you hum as you nuzzle into his chest. “mmhmf, i love you too.”
still cheesing, he holds you tight against him. part of him felt like he was dreaming with how much he loved you. his body shaking with restraint as he twitched inside you but he knew you were too exhausted to go again. leaning himself back onto the mattress to tuck you against him further, holding you there like something sacred. as though you would run or get taken away if he faltered his hold at all.
the hold on you only grounding as though you were floating over your body still, ghosting like he’d fucked you into the afterlife. sleep eases its way through your body and jason absorbs it.
only minutes later you’re completely asleep, snoring peacefully as jason drools on your head.
and there’s no place you’d rather be.
forgive me for this filth. i’m never a normal person when i’m ovulating…
summary: sometimes, it's just too big. but clark knows you can take it.
CWs: 18+ MDNI!!!! clark kent x fem!reader, size kink, mating press, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it folks), snarky!clark, kissing, some praise, use of pet names, clark's a good man even though he's a little sassy, established relationship i guess?, talking you through it i guess? in a way?, no use of y/n. i think that's it!
author's note: quick little thing because i haven't posted in a while, i hope you all enjoy! literally wrote this in my drafts so i don't even have a word count. im assuming it's around 1.5k? anyways, sorry about the lack of content guys - working on a massive multi-chapter fic AND putting some stuff together for 1k. should have some more stuff posted later this week (maybe)! love you all!
"Fuck," you hiss, head tilted back and burying itself into the pillows beneath it. You suck in a stuttered, shallow breath and whine it out. You're unable to take any sort of full breaths, anyway; Clark's too busy taking up all the space in and around your body.
He's got you pressed into the mattress, completely unable to do anything but focus on the way he's fucking you. It's a brutal mating press this time. Your legs are curled up almost to your chest, and his arms are caging you in, and the way he's got his face tucked into the crook of your neck is ensuring that you're feeling all of his weight. Just how you like it.
And although the mating press is brutal, his pace is not. It's slow, and deep, and careful, because Clark knows how much you can handle. Knows you well enough to clock when you need him to take his time. Knows exactly how to ensure that you're enjoying yourself, and, make no mistake—you are enjoying yourself.
But he's just so fucking big. Buried in you so deep. All nine inches of him, hard and heavy and utterly and completely filling. All 6'5 of his height and 240 pounds of his weight pinning you down beneath him.
Sometimes he's too big.
Clark shifts above you. He's still got you in that mating press, but now one of his arms is tucking beneath your waist, moving your hips up just enough to make him push deeper into you. You gasp. It's the first time that you're able to suck in that much air since he's been on top of you.
"Clark!" you whine, loud and stilted and a little strained. You'd been screaming all fucking night. You're surprised you even have a voice anymore.
"S'too big!"
He smiles against your neck. Trails a few soft kisses on the column of your throat before he lifts his head out of your neck and looks down at you. You don't realize he's taken his arm out from beneath your waist until you feel his hand on your chin tilting your face down and forcing you to look into his eyes.
"Did I hear that right? It's too big, baby?"
He punctuates that question by pulling back, almost completely out of you, then pushing all the way back in. Every fucking inch. All in less than a second. A quick, deep thrust, one that punches all of the air out of your lungs for the thousandth time tonight. Your back arches as much as it can with all of his heft on top of you. The shallow excuse of a breath you had frantically sucked in gets shoved out of your chest.
“Yes!” you squeak out. Clark laughs at you; it’s not cruel, but it has your already flushed face burning a little more. He presses his hips a little deeper, a little harder, and your eyes roll back into your head. That ache, that familiar burn with getting stretched open on his cock, is the most confusing thing; feels so good even though he’s practically on the verge of splitting you in half. You throw your head back, and your hips squirm, and your fingers dig into the bedsheets beneath your body so you can try and pull yourself away from him.
It’s no use, though. Clark’s hand leaves your chin and attaches to your right hip, his hold on you tight and sturdy; you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried. Not that you’d actually want to, of course.
“You want me to take it out?” he asks.
That question wasn’t really a question. Maybe it was a threat. Or a death sentence, because taking all of that pain and pleasure away before you can finish might actually kill you. Almost as much of a death sentence as the way he pulls his hips back; this time, he pulls all the way back. Completely out of you. He keeps the thick, blunt tip of his cock pressed against your cunt, though. What a fucking tease.
Your eyes shoot open and, through all your quick panting and pathetic whimpering, you manage to glare at him and cry out, “No!”
He flashes one of those pretty crooked smiles at you. Always so cocky whenever he hasn’t earned the right to be. Just makes him hotter.
“No?” he asks. Then he huffs.
“Thought you said it was too big, honey?”
You start to push out a garbled mess of a protest, but you cut yourself off with a guttural, borderline animalistic moan when you feel him gently glide his length through your sensitive folds. A soft, back and forth rocking that only lasts a couple seconds. The slick sound when he rolls his hips back and forth is nothing but sinful. Makes your pussy flutter and clench around—much to your dismay—nothing.
“Please,” you beg, breathy and whiny and pathetic above all else. You haven’t been able to take a full, deep breath since he’s started fucking you. Unfortunately, the panicking from how he isn’t fucking you anymore has squeezed your lungs like a vice. Can’t take a deep breath without him fucking you, either. All you can do is pant up at him like some sort of bitch in heat, and…well, it wouldn’t be a stretch to classify yourself as one.
Clark picks up on that, judging by the way his hand glides up your stomach and toward your chest. His palm lays over the center of it, allowing his fingers to splay out over your flushed, sticky skin. His hand is, just like him, massive. Proportionate to his gigantic body. The tips of his fingers can reach your collarbones while his thumb is steadily brushing back and forth over the spot just above your heart. He could probably hear it hammering in your chest, just like he can hear every pitiful excuse of a breath you keep trying to suck in.
“Tell you what,” he mutters. “You take one deep breath for me, and I’ll put it back in.”
“Clark,” you groan, a wobbly little pant that you struggled to get out.
“Breathe,” he commands. “Breathe, or you’re not getting what you want.”
Now he’s holding himself hostage from you. Of course.
In true Clark fashion, he teases you while he’s waiting for your response. Continues to gently glide his cock through your folds, letting out a soft, low growl and hanging his head for a moment. He laughs, breathy and a little desperate, and his hips buck. It sends a jolt through both of your bodies; seems like the idiot’s gone and teased himself, too.
“Better do it fast, honey. Don’t think I can last much longer.”
How does one force their brain to force their lungs to manually breathe? In, out, in, out. Seems pretty simple. But your brain doesn’t wanna cooperate, because all you can feel is the tip of Clark’s cock brushing over your clit again and again and again as he keeps rolling his hips. You whimper so loudly that it echoes off your bedroom walls; when your head falls back onto your pillow, you shut your eyes. Squeeze them so tight that you see stars—although that could also be because of the oxygen you’ve been depriving yourself of.
Then, it happens. You do some sort of hard reset. You suck in a big, deep breath, chest fully expanding and bumping against Clark’s.
“Atta girl. I knew you could do it,” he purrs. Leans down to press soft kisses on your chin, and the corner of your lips, and down your jaw while he lines himself up and sinks right back into your cunt. There’s no resistance at all. Your breath hitches in your throat and you tense up, mouth dropping open without any permission from your brain. Although, your brain’s letting you down a lot right now, so…best to not depend on it.
“Give me another deep breath, baby,” Clark whispers, breath fanning out against your ear. He’s buried to the hilt again, voice a little strung out and voice a little shaky. But he’s doing a lot better than you, so who are you to talk?
You can’t breathe again. He’s too deep, and he feels too good, and the angle he’s got you at is keeping his tip pressed right against that spongy spot that makes you shake when he pays too much attention to it. Your fingers, desperate to find something to tear up, meet his shoulders—if he was a normal human being, you’d have left a few deep cuts in his back from how hard you just clawed down it.
But you manage to do it after a beat. To suck in a deep breath, to moan it out, to blubber about how good he’s got you feeling. Or maybe it was just gibberish. Who knows? At least you got the air in. At least you rediscovered how to breathe.
“Just like that, baby. Good girl,” he praises you. Honey-sweet, like he always is.
“You keep breathing deep and slow like that for me, and we’ll go as long as you want.”
clark kent’s restraint was tested every single day, since he’d crashed on earth in that pod all that time ago.
but even counting his adventures and tribulations of being the man of steel, he would still count this moment right here, as the ever most testing.
“e-easy baby” his shaky voice meets your ear at the same time his hand races to hold the back of your head in search of control.
you press your lips together to hold your laugh, but cant stop the teasing smile that graces your face at his tone.
“clark i haven’t even done anything yet.” you reply, looking up at his face through your eyelashes.
all you’d done so far was get on your knees in front of him and reach for the band of his sweats.
however, you definitely weren’t complaining about how sensitive your giant boyfriend was, seeing him squirm before you even set sight on his cock had your brain conjuring up exactly how he’d react when you ran your tongue along his-
“yeah i know, its just seeing you like that on your uh, on your knees.” his response cuts through your imaginations.
“you like seeing me on my knees for you clark? does that turn you on?”
you bring your hand up again and use your index finger to run a line along the sliver of skin exposed just above his boxers while you continue to gaze up at him, running your tongue over your bottom lip.
he groans and throws his head back at your teasing, his hand releasing the grip it previously had on your hair. which you take as a sign to continue.
“sweet jesus, your gonna be the death of me” he murmurs, watching your every move.
you tap his hip twice and he takes the sign to sit up so you can drag the material thats restricting him, down his thick muscle ridden thighs.
slowly, you pull down the fabric, revealing your boyfriends full length as it springs upward.
leaning forward, you lick from the base all the way to the tip of his shaft.
clark whines in protest at your speed or lack there of. bucking his hips up towards your face.
taking it as a sign, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. swirling your tongue around it before lowering the rest deeeep into your throat, breathing through your nose to keep from gagging.
you brace your hands on either side of clark’s thighs, pushing your head down. enjoying the feeling of his throbbing veins against your tongue.
moving your hands from his thighs, you bring them to the base of his cock. stimulating everything you can’t fit down your throat.
clark whines above you, taking a firm grip of your hair. not to pull or push, just to get it out of your way.
“ohh baby just, fuck, just like that.”
“you’re amazing, my god you’re perfection.”
“oh-okay y’gotta get off angel i can’t…”
his words only encourage you. picking up your speed, you watch as the man of steel falls apart under your tongue.
you can’t help but gag at the feeling of his tip hitting the very back walls of your throat. causing it to constrict against his length.
“baby i can’t, you… shit”
his hips buck up, forcing his cock impossibly deep into the back of your throat while he find his release. not even noticing his hand pushing your head down onto him leaving you unable to move.
‘we aren’t in Kansas anymore’ fic and what did you mean here? “He had never heard something so profound before, he didn’t even know he could do that. He decides to make a mental note for later, to focus on the sound of his co-“
his coworker??? or what because now I’m like so sad because what do you mean?
honestly i've been thinking about this for 20 minutes now and i have NO IDEA?? did i mean to put "vo-" for voice? wish i could answer but i wrote that 4 months ago.
waiting for more? check out my clark kent masterlist.
updates will be around every two weeks, but i'm a liar so....
SUMMARY - A casual movie night with your best friend leads to the two of you striking up an equally as casual deal. Just sex, no messy feelings or labels. It's what you both need and besides, your adults and you've known Clark forever. What's the worst that could happen anyways?
story contains smut, detailed warnings will be provided
18+ inexperienced!clark kent who’s powers go haywire his first time
everything about you is overwhelming him, all the while both of you are still fully clothed. you'd done stuff before sure, but never like this.
never with you grinding into his hardened lap, with even the softest moans that leave your lips blasting in his ears. he hears it all, the whines from your clothed cunt rubbing up just right against the seam of his perfectly starched jeans.
breathing heavy into each other, you begin removing your clothes. first your shirt, that reveals a bright red lacy pattern across your chest, which has clark blinking a few times and breathing heavy.
then your sleep shorts (which weren't much material to begin with) he feels, smells, hears, and sees it all. its like all the little things he's learnt how to just "turn off' over the years, loose all their control at the sight of you naked.
by the time your both left in only underwear, he's a mess. hand flexing at your sides, sweat collecting at his forehead and causing his hair to melt to his skin.
"you okay baby?" you ask, noticing his seemingly discomforted state.
"we can stop if you-" you barely get to lift your thigh an inch off of him, befroe his strong hand are squeezing into the skin on your waist, connecting your centers with such force it drags a soft groan from both of you.
"don't stop, just need a minute. you're... everywhere" his tone is right as he screws his eyes shut and buries his head in your shoulder.
you aren't exactly sure just what that means, but you wait anyway. or atleast, your body waits, while your mind drifts off to the thought of him channelling his alien strength to fuck you stupid.
"oh gosh baby please... you're gonna kill me." you feel his grip at your sides again, and shift uncomfortably at the harness against your inner thigh.
"what can you, you feel that?" you question at his reaction
"feel it, hear it, smell it, for goodness sakes doll i can practically taste it" he starts moving again now, grinding against you while moving your hips in pattern with his.
you don't have time to respond to his words, you can only moan his name into the open space around you as his fingers reach breach the fabric of your underwear. collecting your wetness with his fingers before rubbing tight circles against your bud.
soon enough, he's lining himself up with your entrance, thrusting in and out with just the tip a few times, before dragging you all the way down on his cock.
with how full you are, clark has to help you to bounce on him, lifting you like you weigh nothing. practically using you like a doll, picking you up and dropping you down, using his own hips to thrust into you.
it's all too much for him, the feeling of your warm walls around him, all the sounds amplified in his head. he buries his head in your neck as a distraction, trying to fight the tension he can already feel building inside of him.
trailing wet kisses and hickeys along the exposed and sensitive skin on your neck all while grinding himself impossibly deeper into you.
"cah, cold" you try and fail, too overwhelmed by the dual sensation that has rendered your brain and speech useless.
"wha- mmphf, wha'd you say?" he speaks into your neck, still not noticing that he's freezing it.
"y'freeze breath clark, t's too cold" you speak through the whimpers of sensation.
takes a minute for the words to fully register before he pulls his head back to find that there is in fact frost, over the quickly forming bruises on your neck.
he'd been using his freeze breath without even noticing, he should be embarrassed, ask if your okay, do all the things a good alien boyfriend would do.
he doesn't though, he can't, not when the sight is turning him on past the point of no return. not only has he marked you, the two of you were too fucked out to even notice it. so driven by the feeling of being so deeply connected, that the thought didn't cross either of your minds.
his thrust are rougher after that, quickly driving the both of you dangerously to the edge. however, as the heat builds, he doesn't just feel it in the pit of his stomach.
no, it's everywhere, the tips of his toes and fingers, his palms, even the familiar heat behind his eyes seems to be overflowing as you both near your peaks.
it takes your cock drunk brain about 30 seconds to notice that your no longer on the bed. but rather, hovering about a feet or so into the air. clark doesn't notice, or maybe he just doesn't care. the only thing he's focused on is your pleasure and his own.
you cry out as your orgasm takes you over, and so does he. screwing his eyes shut as tight as he can to contain the red hot heat that threatens to release to the sensation of your walls fluttering around his length.
safe to say, sex will never be the same for either of you, ever again.
+ follow for more, and comment to let me know what you thought or to be added to my clark kent taglist.
another possessive bf/ex pst (boooorrrrinnggg but it’s whatever you guys want)
jason todd x enemies with benefits also academic rivals?
3k+ clark kent virgin smut fic
send a request
bucky barnes smut fic
hurt reader x jason todd
Voting ended onFeb 25
ps: i’m also so sorry to the people waiting on one of my unfinished series, i have an addiction to making part 1s and nothing else… i’ll get to them though 😅
jason had a nasty habit for being a head pusher, but he just couldn't help it. the way you gagged around him as he pushed your head further down his cock, spit gargling in the back of your throat as you dragged your nails deep into the skin on the back of his thighs.
red trail marks that sent a sensation straight to the head of his dick. leaking all over your buds across your tongue, a warm salty taste. his favourite part though, was when he pulled himself back out to let you actually breathe.
your mouth hung open and tongue dangling out of your mouth like a panting, needy dog. eyes half lidded in a fucked out state as his cock sat heavy and hot on your tongue. you could literally see the steam rising off it from your point of view.
he tilted your head back more, forcing you to look up at him with those dead eyes.
"you ready for some more?" his voice was taunting with a hint of care, he would never push you past your limit unless you asked. when you nodded in response, your dry mouth beginning to water as he slid himself back into your mouth, letting you hollow cheeks around him and swirling your tongue along the frenulum.
"oooh fuuuuck yeahhhh" the way he dragged those words past his lips as a praise, how he relished in the fact you not only sucked cock but looked so fucking good while you did it. stuffed to the brim by his thickness, veins pressed flush against your lips. a slight discomfort to your jaw was worth the price of getting him off.
and when he jerked himself as he was bottoming out on your face and tits, watching you drop your tongue out and taste him.
if he was bad for anything it was the multiple orgasms it took to actually wear him out. destroying each and every one of your holes just to satisfy his needs.
18+ inexperienced!clark kent who’s powers go haywire his first time
everything about you is overwhelming him, all the while both of you are still fully clothed. you'd done stuff before sure, but never like this.
never with you grinding into his hardened lap, with even the softest moans that leave your lips blasting in his ears. he hears it all, the whines from your clothed cunt rubbing up just right against the seam of his perfectly starched jeans.
breathing heavy into each other, you begin removing your clothes. first your shirt, that reveals a bright red lacy pattern across your chest, which has clark blinking a few times and breathing heavy.
then your sleep shorts (which weren't much material to begin with) he feels, smells, hears, and sees it all. its like all the little things he's learnt how to just "turn off' over the years, loose all their control at the sight of you naked.
by the time your both left in only underwear, he's a mess. hand flexing at your sides, sweat collecting at his forehead and causing his hair to melt to his skin.
"you okay baby?" you ask, noticing his seemingly discomforted state.
"we can stop if you-" you barely get to lift your thigh an inch off of him, befroe his strong hand are squeezing into the skin on your waist, connecting your centers with such force it drags a soft groan from both of you.
"don't stop, just need a minute. you're... everywhere" his tone is right as he screws his eyes shut and buries his head in your shoulder.
you aren't exactly sure just what that means, but you wait anyway. or atleast, your body waits, while your mind drifts off to the thought of him channelling his alien strength to fuck you stupid.
"oh gosh baby please... you're gonna kill me." you feel his grip at your sides again, and shift uncomfortably at the harness against your inner thigh.
"what can you, you feel that?" you question at his reaction
"feel it, hear it, smell it, for goodness sakes doll i can practically taste it" he starts moving again now, grinding against you while moving your hips in pattern with his.
you don't have time to respond to his words, you can only moan his name into the open space around you as his fingers reach breach the fabric of your underwear. collecting your wetness with his fingers before rubbing tight circles against your bud.
soon enough, he's lining himself up with your entrance, thrusting in and out with just the tip a few times, before dragging you all the way down on his cock.
with how full you are, clark has to help you to bounce on him, lifting you like you weigh nothing. practically using you like a doll, picking you up and dropping you down, using his own hips to thrust into you.
it's all too much for him, the feeling of your warm walls around him, all the sounds amplified in his head. he buries his head in your neck as a distraction, trying to fight the tension he can already feel building inside of him.
trailing wet kisses and hickeys along the exposed and sensitive skin on your neck all while grinding himself impossibly deeper into you.
"cah, cold" you try and fail, too overwhelmed by the dual sensation that has rendered your brain and speech useless.
"wha- mmphf, wha'd you say?" he speaks into your neck, still not noticing that he's freezing it.
"y'freeze breath clark, t's too cold" you speak through the whimpers of sensation.
takes a minute for the words to fully register before he pulls his head back to find that there is in fact frost, over the quickly forming bruises on your neck.
he'd been using his freeze breath without even noticing, he should be embarrassed, ask if your okay, do all the things a good alien boyfriend would do.
he doesn't though, he can't, not when the sight is turning him on past the point of no return. not only has he marked you, the two of you were too fucked out to even notice it. so driven by the feeling of being so deeply connected, that the thought didn't cross either of your minds.
his thrust are rougher after that, quickly driving the both of you dangerously to the edge. however, as the heat builds, he doesn't just feel it in the pit of his stomach.
no, it's everywhere, the tips of his toes and fingers, his palms, even the familiar heat behind his eyes seems to be overflowing as you both near your peaks.
it takes your cock drunk brain about 30 seconds to notice that your no longer on the bed. but rather, hovering about a feet or so into the air. clark doesn't notice, or maybe he just doesn't care. the only thing he's focused on is your pleasure and his own.
you cry out as your orgasm takes you over, and so does he. screwing his eyes shut as tight as he can to contain the red hot heat that threatens to release to the sensation of your walls fluttering around his length.
safe to say, sex will never be the same for either of you, ever again.
+ follow for more, and comment to let me know what you thought or to be added to my clark kent taglist.
✮⋆˙ jason todd can have a tender friendship with you and want you, but can't allow himself to date you
✮⋆˙ word count: 3.1k
✮⋆˙ cw !! 18+, fem!reader, angsty and jealous jason, reader makes the first move, penetration, mating press, use of 'ma' and 'doll'
jason todd had this terrible habit of showing up at your window after every patrol. it wasn't exactly just to casually swing by and say 'hi' either, but more like a shadowy figure glooming over your window just long enough to make sure you were safe. you liked it. but, of course, you never missed an opportunity to tease him about it, jokingly calling him a creep whenever you had the chance and he'd just wave it off insisting you could never be careful enough in a city like this one. sometimes he'd even be lucky enough to catch you while you were awake, which almost always earned him an invitation inside. you'd offer him some leftovers, sometimes coffee.. and some nights you'd even stay up on purpose, hoping to squeeze in some catching up before he jumped off to the next rooftop. and tonight was one of those nights.
the smell of garlic and tomatoes filled your studio apartment as you grew impatient and perhaps even a little bit worried. the pasta was almost done and there was still no sign of him. jason was no stranger to trouble, you were definitely already aware of that. hell, he could have been getting his ass handed to him right at that moment in some dark alley and you wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. and just knowing that that was a real possibility didn't exactly give you much peace of mind. the fact he revealed his vigilante identity to you definitely brought you two closer, which you were very happy about, but sometimes you just wished you could go back to not knowing and not constantly worrying about it.
a knock. the sudden sound of it against the glass of your window startled you, breaking you out of your thoughts and making you clumsily drop your spatula into the meat sauce instead. you sighed and rolled your eyes, turning to face the scary but familiar figure casting a shadow on your room and waving.
"jay, what did we say about your creepy behaviour?", you asked teasingly as you opened the window to let him in.
he entered the apartment with a loud thud, his heavy boots hitting the floor loud enough to wake your downstairs neighbours. "..that it was absolutely necessary?", he replied cheekily through his modulator before taking his helmet off and resting it on the coffee table like he had done it a million times before. and honestly by now, he probably has. he was definitely comfortable in your apartment, and it often served as his safe space that he knew he could go to in case he needed a moment of peace. you two had been friends for years now, ever since meeting at the local library. what can you say? he was cute. and being that tall and that deliciously broad didn't hurt either. you had offered to lend him some classic they didn't have in stock at the time and from there you started seeing each other often. you always thought that it would lead to something more, seeing how tender your friendship with him had become over the years, but jason always seemed a little bit odd when it came to dating.
the second his helmet was off his nose was filled with the delicious smell of the dinner you made, your lack of shyness when it came to herbs and garlic making him almost salivate on the spot. and boy, you could tell. for someone who always played the hardass, sometimes it felt like he wasn't the best at hiding his true feelings. both on food and... other matters.
"hungry?", you asked, stretching your arms out towards him a little bit.
"starving, actually". he closed the gap between you two, embracing you in a gentle hug. it seemed a bit odd the first time he did it, but you two would always greet each other this way since then - the hugs always a little too intimate and always lingering a moment too long. but you just decided not to fight it and accepted that this giant scary man just needed a tender embrace from time to time. his large hands rested on your back, barely ghosting it, the hug both polite and protective, as if he was worried he would never get another one after this.
he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent for a moment, trying to isolate it in his mind from the smell of food in the air. you were definitely wearing your signature perfume. perfume to bed? no, obviously not. you probably remembered he mentioned liking how it smelled, and hoped to get a more official answer out of him on the state of your 'friendship'. he may not have been the best at vocalizing his emotions, but he was definitely well trained on knowing how to read a situation. he swallowed hard, his hands softly brushing against the sides of your waist as he brought the hug to an end, his face almost looking too guilty over it.
"so what's on the menu, ma?", he asked, his eyes looking towards the kitchen and not you. surely if he didn't meet your gaze long enough you wouldn't peer further into trying to understand where you two stood. not that he blamed you for wanting answers - no, not at all. he was well aware that he seemed to be able to hang out with you, protect you, be affectionate with you, even linger way too long with his touches... but he didn't seem able to officially put a name on it. he didn't seem able to allow himself to have a girlfriend.
"pasta bolognese~", you hummed as you laid down two plates at your tiny dining table.
jason went to your front door, first to make sure it was properly locked and then to take off his boots. he knew you always got annoyed when he brought in dirt and blood and god knows what else into the apartment on his footwear. he also knew if he so much as stepped with his shoes on your little fur rug you would have his head, so he'd rather not risk it. he slowly made his way back to the table, sitting down and taking a fork in one hand. "every good dinner i've had in the past year i owe to the count of monte cristo at this point, you know?" he joked, but both of you knew he realistically would have genuinely lived off of takeout and burgers if you didn't step in every now and then.
you smiled warmly at him, filling his plate up. "and don't you forget it".
jason was scoffing down his food like he hadn't eaten in days. maybe he hadn't, you never knew with him and his missions anymore. nothing would ever come before a mission for him. "so.. take down any interesting bad guys lately?", you asked between bites.
he shrugged. "nothin' special.. some drug smugglin' ring thing mostly." he never really went into details about what happened on his missions. the only reason you even knew about his 'job' was because he revealed it once in a blatant attempt to push you away. jason in general had a weird opinion of himself, where he simultaneously thought he was doing the right thing and also saw himself as a murderer for it. the negative feelings wouldn't stop him from finishing missions, but they definitely knew how to stop him from having a normal love life. "you?"
you thought for a second. there definitely was one eventful thing that happened lately. maybe it wasn't as interesting as a drug smuggling ring, but you thought it might grab his attention anyway. "a coworker asked me out, actually".
you just saw him instantly clench his jaw and stop eating. the fork stood frozen in his hand as he stared at the almost empty plate in front of him for a moment too long. he swallowed what was left of his bite and proceeded to push his tongue against the side of his cheek, clearly overthinking how to respond to this. "oh?", he finally asked, trying to keep his composure and give no emotion away. and yet it somehow sounded both hurt and disinterested at the same time.
"..but i still haven't decided if i should say yes or not", you added casually, deciding to frame it like you were asking him for an opinion. you just sat in your seat and examined his expression. he seemed to be thinking about his next words very carefully.
"...are you sure he's a good man?", he finally asked, his voice a little strained. jason didn't take you saying that lightly. not even a little bit. sure, he wasn't exactly planning on taking things to the next level, but a part of him did hope something could happen between you two one day. a small part. since his brain was mostly just screaming at him constantly to not get you involved in his messy violent life and that you deserve someone much better. someone you could have a nice future with. not someone who spent his days fighting and killing and risking his life.
you stared at him for a moment, trying to decipher his feelings on the matter. "i mean.. i guess? i don't know him too well", you added almost absentmindedly, twirling some pasta on your fork.
"you need to be with a good man-"
"as opposed to what, jason? a killer?", you cut him off. there was a long and awkward silence as you watched him battle with himself in his thoughts, his gaze heavy and locked on you, his jaw tight. in his mind you were too good to be with someone like him. as much as he wanted to.. felt the need to.. the very thought of the same hands that hold guns to people's heads touching your body made him feel sick. you sighed and got up, walking in front of him in an attempt to stop all the overthinking. "jason..."
he swallowed hard. your name rolled off his tongue so nicely as he whispered it, almost pained and whiny, as you inched closer to him, cupping his cheeks with your hands gently. every time you placed your hands anywhere near him you could instantly feel him melt into your touch and how touch starved he actually was. and you could always see him fighting with his own restraint when you did. and now was no exception. your own gaze lingered on his blue eyes, catching every speck of green, before resting your forehead on his. "...can't you just tell me how you really feel?"
as you spoke you could feel his hot breath on your lips, especially now that his breathing got heavier. you just needed him to fill the small gap left between you two. you wanted him to. his hands instinctively went to your waist, holding it gently and making himself feel even worse. "i.. i shouldn't want this", he whispered, his hands squeezing you a little as his thumb brushed slow circles on the little exposed skin there.
he made your heart skip a beat and feel like holding your breath as to not accidentally disturb him and have him stop. "what about what i want?", you whispered back, your lips barely brushing against his when the words left your mouth.
"you shouldn't want this either..", he trailed off, closing his eyes and pressing his lips onto yours in a kiss that was so feather light and unrushed that it was almost painful. his words may have been trying to stay rational and talk his way out of it, but his body was moving on its own, full of desire for you that just kept slipping.
one of your hands slid from his cheek to the side and back of his neck, your fingers entangling in his hair there. "but i do", you murmured, placing a warm kiss on his lips that made his breath catch in his throat. "and i think we're both allowed to".
you felt his lips part, as he leaned just a little bit forward, not just giving you permission but deepening the kiss himself. he could feel his restraint slipping even more, his hands on your waist tightening their grip in a possessive way, making you gasp quietly into his mouth. and that made his pants uncomfortably tighten. he then froze for a second, his mouth half open and his eyes darkened as if they were giving you one last warning before he snapped. "c'mon, ma, you know these hands hav-"
"oh my god jason, i don't care", you whispered, gently putting one of your hands over his and guiding it upwards. he stared at it as it went up your body antagonisingly slow, earning a whimper from him. you were blushing and definitely not used to making the first move, but it had to be done. he clearly had to be told very directly that he was more than what he did to keep the streets safe. you stopped his hand on your chest, letting it rest there as you pressed your lips against his again, speaking into them. "whatever those hands did.. this is what they're doing now."
he closed his eyes, blowing a bit of air out his nose. he allowed his hand to gently squeeze your breast, his mind going crazy with thoughts of how many times he imagined doing this and how somehow it feels even better now in his hand than it did in his wettest dreams. he sighed and crashed his lips into yours - the kind of kiss that shows how desperately he wanted this despite everything. needy, messy.. all over the place. he couldn't get enough anymore. jason got off his chair, kissing you while standing for a very brief moment, before he pushed both of you to your bed.
he looked so hot, hovering over you like this. his huge figure normally towered over you, and now in bed it was just making you want him even more. you could see every muscle clearly defined in his suit, and the faint smell of his sweat was enough to drive you crazy. and to top it all off, he looked so hungry. like a starving man who was finally facing a proper meal. "jay..." you wrapped your hands around his neck, your thighs pushing against his sides firmly.
jason pressed his body weight against you as he bent down to smear insatiable desperate kisses all over your neck. he stuck his tongue out, tracing a long and wet line from your collarbone to your jawline. your legs instinctively tried to squeeze together at the feeling, pressing harder into him, aching with desire. you could feel how hard he was as he kept hungrily kissing and sucking on your neck, making your fingers curl. you needed him so bad right now. your hands clumsily fumbled with his belt for a moment before releasing him free onto your stomach. fuck, he was huge. he bit into your neck gently before he quickly leaned back and helped you out of your pyjama pants and underwear. he literally groaned, low and ragged, at the sight of you like this, your panties gone and legs spread to each side of him, "fuck, you look so good like that, doll... fuck". he aligned himself with you before rubbing it between your folds a few times, already feeling himself get covered in your slick. he shot you a look, his eyes intense but quietly asking for permission.
"jay, please-", you whined, and that was all the encouragement he needed. he pushed himself into you, first an inch, then another one... until he was completely sheathed inside of you. you gasped as it went all the way inside, the sheer size of it being a lot to handle to begin with. you bit your lower lip to try to stay more quiet. his mouth hung open and breath uneven as he got used to the feeling of you wrapped around his dick like that - somehow both tighter and wetter than every time he imagined it when alone. his first movements were slow, but he took no time picking up the pace, wanting nothing more than to watch you make more of those delicious expressions you were making.
your hands quickly found their way to his shoulders, nails digging into his suit there as he pounded harder and harder into you. it was like he was making up for lost time, his mind dead-set on fucking you senseless as if it were the last thing he'd get to do in this life. his rough calloused hands grabbed the back of your thighs with an almost bruising force, pushing them back towards you and folding you into a mating press. "holy shit-", he spat out through his teeth as he felt himself somehow go even deeper inside of you, his tip aggressively kissing your cervix. "you feel so good, fuck-", he moaned, raspy but breathless.
he threw more swear words around, getting lost in the sensation of it all. jason quickly wiped some sweat off his forehead before he placed that hand on your lower abdomen, focusing on feeling himself moving inside of you. the applied pressure there made you moan even louder so you brought your index finger to your mouth, biting into it as to not wake up your neighbours. "jason, i'll-"
"nah, ma... don't hold back on me now", he muttered, voice rough, taking your hand from your mouth and giving it the gentlest possible kiss as he kept thrusting into you. he let go of it, only to bring his own back to where it was, pushing down on your lower stomach. he placed his thumb right over your most sensitive spot, rubbing circles there until he found a pattern you seemed to particularly react well to. "let me hear those pretty sounds."
he kept his motions stable as your toes curled in the air, fingers grasping at the bedsheets or pillow - whatever you were able to grab on to, as he helped you come undone with him still inside of you, still thrusting, riding out the final moments before his own climax. watching you moan with that expression, squeezing him just right as your hips buckled was more than enough to push him over the edge as well. he quickly pulled out, shooting pretty ropes all over your stomach.
you both just lay there for a moment, coming back to rational thoughts, your ragged breathing slowly calming down. he plopped down on the bed next to you, staring at the ceiling as if he was contemplating what he had just let himself do. what he literally felt like he couldn't stop himself from doing. "don't...", he started, his voice still breathy and low, "don't go on that date. please."
you chuckled, shaking your head a bit at him playfully. "only if you take me on one instead", you teased, trying to keep your voice steady.
warnings: angst, sexual relations as emotion suppressing , no actual smut in this part, kissing
He could tell from the second you dropped your bag on the floor that something was wrong. The expression on your face that bled an expression he hadn't had the misfortune of witnessing yet.
Trying to avoid as much conversations as possible, knowing he’ll see right through your facade.
It wasn't like you, to so visibly carry your pain with you, which is how he knew it must've been bad. You still melted in his arms, but you kissed away his concerned questioning when he tried.
He could feel how desperate you were to feel anything other than what you felt now, almost like you were connected in a way neither of you understood.
"Hey, wai- wait a second, please?" He spoke through your attempt at silencing him by covering his mouth with yours. Not stopping until his hands pulled you off of him, firm but still gentle, he was always gentle.
"I thought this is what you wanted Clark? No feelings." You didn't mean to hurt him with your words, or maybe you did... All you knew was that you didn't want to feel, whatever this was. He could fix it, it would all be fine after he fixed it.
"It is I just, something's wrong." His tone held more concern now.
He was right something was wrong, but talking about it was the last thing you needed now. You hated how he could see through you, it made you feel weak and delicate. That was the last thing you wanted to look like especially around the Man of Steel.
So you kissed him harder this time drawing his lower lip in between your teeth, like the more you flooded your emotions into the physical connection, the more the pain would dissipate.
He groaned in response and you felt his hands brace either side of your waist, pulling you in closer.
You felt wrong for using him like this, but isn't that what this was supposed to be, using each other?
Pushing your thoughts away, you though yourself into the feeling of his touch. The soft skin of his lips, his curls carded in between your fingers, the pressure of his hands on your waist. Even the smell of him, using everything about him to push away everything about you.
Then he pulls away, face scrunched into an expression that tells you he wishes he didn't feel like he had to.
You speak before he can, determined to not talk about your inner turmoil. Twisting your pain into rage targeted at the only one here to receive it.
"God Clark, just let it go." You turn away from him, but not soon enough to miss his slight flinch in reaction to your words.
"We can't do it like this, it's not right."
Somehow it feels stronger now, your feelings impulsified by the combined embarrassment of having them and being pushed away by him.
Seeing him look at you like how he was, was the last straw. He wasn't looking at you with the normal admiration and respect, no he was looking at you like you were about to shatter, like you were weak.
“You’re not my boyfriend, it’s not your job to worry about me.” Hearing your own words felt like being in the drivers seat during a car crash with no working controls. The guilt rang in your chest, only to be overcome by the cover of rage your enveloped yourself in.
“Baby just let me help you, we can-” His name for you only reminded you of everything you weren’t. Not enough to be anything real, just fragments of intimacy that you carry around the memories of like they’re burned into your skin.
“Don’t. Clearly your not going to give me what I came for so i’m gonna go, feel free to call me whenever you decide to let this go” you couldn’t be around him anymore couldn’t be under the weight of his gaze, with everything you’re holding back threatening to unleash every time you meet his eyes.
He calls your name but you don’t turn around, you can’t. Telling yourself that even though he’s saying these things, the truth is that the two of you are nothing more than convenience. You’re almost at the door before you feel his grip around your wrist.
“Hey don’t, don’t leave it like this. Don’t leave us like this.” His eyes plead with you far more than his words do. You’ve always fallen victim to his ability to convey a sea of emotions with just the way he looks at you, but not this time.
Pulling your hand away from his, you feel this need to make him feel the hurt you do. Unreasonable, you know that, but your misery seems to yearn for company.
“There is no us Clark, we are nothing. Especially now.” You can’t meet his eyes after that, knowing that looking at him would only intensify the overwhelming urge to fall apart in his arms.
You reached for the door again, and this time, he didn’t follow you. Didn’t call your name or reach for you again.
ellievsbear
gracieabrams
origamiaround
gummygunk
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
