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ddejavvu · 11 days ago

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pairing: (smallville) clark kent x reader

summary: clark hits it from the back for your first time, because that 'doesn't really count'.

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. anal sex, first time sex, mild discomfort for both of those reasons. my bsf was the inspo + source for this because she's taken it up the shitter a dozen times but swears up and down she's a virgin and (completely judgement-free) i find that fascinating

for whatever reason, you and clark have never had sex. whether it's because you want to save yourself for marriage, or you're worried about pregnancy in small-town kansas, or no one has a condom when you need one, the bottom line is that you and clark have been totally abstinent thus far. that's not to say you've never done anything with him, but in your minds it doesn't really count if it's not in the right place, right?

clark's touched you, sure, and you've touched him. you've sucked him off and he's repaid the favor breathlessly, if not a little too eagerly as he goes down on you. you've cum on his fingers and you've dry humped for days and he's fucked your thighs and he's fucked your tits on one wild occasion just to have a hole but hey!! he's never put it in your pussy and that means it doesn't really count. you haven't technically, really had sex yet, all of that other stuff is just sort of foreplay if you think about it. you've never let him in your pussy so really you've never had sex at all.

it's another night of heated, heavy makeouts, heaving, panting breaths washing over your bare, goose-bumped skin as he sticks his hands into the hem of your jeans, and you reconsider your commitment like you always do at this point in time. you really want to stay strong, you're not letting him inside of you, but- but that's not really the only place he could put it. you're sick and tired of the teasing, abstinence is what you think is right but you just can't seem to keep it in your pants either of you. so you consider it for a moment, and you decide that you're not breaking your resolve, he will not be allowed to stick it in... that hole.

"Clark," You murmur, taking hold of his wrist where he's fingering the hem of your panties, "Do you want to-? Like, you know, go from the back?"

There's perhaps no modest way of saying it, but his brows furrow like he's not picking up what you're putting down.

"Like, like- you know, I'll- I'll get on my hands and knees, and you can..."

One brow raises, then the other, "Oh. Oh, like-? Like I can- uh, I can go inside?"

"Yeah. But- y'know, from the back."

"Yeah. Yeah," He fumbles with his jeans, feeling a tightness below his gut as he fully comprehends what you're offering. even with your jeans rucked down by your knees he can see you through your panties, there's already a wet spot from where you'd ground into his thigh earlier. and he's not using that hole, but it's still sexy to see as you get yourself propped up on your hands and knees. He realizes that this is going to be harder than normal sex, that your body won't help him as much, but the thought of finally getting his dick wet in one of your holes- he's already about to cum.

Clark does have lube, because it came in a care package from a seminar his high school did on safe sex practices. You've used it once because you were trying to get off quick and you didn't have time to get yourself wet naturally, but he's glad for the rest of it now as you settle on your hands and knees.

you feel a little ridiculous, on the floor like this, but you even weirder when his hands spread your ass apart, territory you’ve never ventured into before. You have a sudden flash of anxiety because Clark goes still, but he’s only trying to figure out how best to go about this. He realizes something easy enough to figure out but something he’s never had to before: you’ll have to be stretched open before he can fit inside of you. His stillness comes from his hesitation; he doesn’t wanna fuck up the best offer you’ve ever given him. He wonders, lube on the hole, finger dry? Lube on the finger, hole dry? Lube on both? He’s never done this before either. He settles on lube on the finger and still he hesitates. What if he fucks up? What if he didn’t cut his nails short enough last night (thank god he cut them at all), what if he hurts something, what if it doesn’t feel good at all and you break up with him?

Meanwhile you’re face down, ass up on the floor, silently begging for him to just stick it in already. You’re starting to think maybe it’s just gross to him, maybe he only wants the one hole you can’t give him yet, maybe he’s watching you with disdain as you bare yourself for him.

Clark doesn't mean to startle you but it does break you out of your mental spiral when he finally touches you. The lube is cold and you jerk forwards away from the touch, but you settle back into place, apologizing with burning cheeks. Clark is just as out of his element, and he reaches out to secure your hips in place with the hand that isn't lubed. He didn't mean for it to be suave, but it steadies you, and you exhale shakily, pushing back into his hand to prompt more.

You are tight, but with the lube he's able to get his finger in relatively fast. all it takes is a little finesse, a steady, gentle, circular push against your hole that gives him some resistance but is ultimately willing to acquiesce. Even after he gets one finger in it's tight, but he uses a bit more lube and soon your hole gets used to his single digit. you're letting out little gasps and whines because it feels differently than anything else you've ever experienced, and you feel Clark's finger begin nudging at the tight walls of your hole before he's confident he can slip another finger inside. He's gentle, and he doesn't jab his finger side-to-side, but he plays with it, figuring out how much give he's got and letting out his own breathy sighs as he watches his finger slide in and out, glistening with lube. he's fingered you before and watched, but this is different, this is tighter and he feels you squeezing down on him with every pump of his finger. he gets embarrassingly hard in his jeans, practically squirming himself on the floor while he watches you swallow him up.

When he's deemed you loose and pliant enough to try for a second finger he keeps them pressed tightly together, hesitating when you squirm and cry out a bit in discomfort.

"You okay?" He glances around at you, trying to gauge whether you're in pain or if it's just different from your scrunched-up face.

"Yeah. I- It's weird," You admit sheepishly, "At first, but- just keep going, please? I want to- I want to do this with you."

He pushes two fingers in with a steady force and your nails catch the dust on his floorboards as they curl into the wood.

It's a slow process, because he's never done it before but he knows enough to know it'll really hurt if he fucks it up. He gets to three fingers before he tries his dick, which proves to be perfect, because his fingers are thick and he's continued in the pattern of gently and barely scissoring you open with each new finger added. It's hard because you're tense, but he's got his big warm had on your hip, rubbing gentle circles into it with the ounce of brainpower he has left while he watches your hole swallow his fingers up. He's murmuring, 'relax', But it's okay, looser is better than tighter, at least for your comfort levels. you're still plenty tight when he takes his hand away to fumble with his belt, smearing lube against the front of his jeans in his haste to get them off. The condom is no better, wasting precious moments that he could be inside of you with its foil wrapper, clinging to the rubber inside.

"Okay." He's breathless and oh-so-eager, "You ready? You still want to?"

You push backwards again, hole now open and inviting him in, "Please! Please, Clark," You've gotten past your momentary discomfort, or you're at least willing to take it for the chance to have Clark inside of you, "Please don't stop now. I want you to be inside of me, we just- it has to be like this."

He's already on his knees and lined up before you're done, and he grabs greedily at your hips, giddy now that he's gotten to free his raging hard-on from his jeans. He's loathe to separate his hand from your ass to guide himself in but it's so fucking good when he finally pushes in that he almost passes out. he's used to the suctioned but loose cavern of your mouth, or your fist that can open and close around him. This is the first time he's ever shoved his way in anywhere that doesn't open, and even though he'd stretched you a bit too wide you're still completely enveloping his dick, warm- almost hot and tight as he pushes in as far as he can.

He probably should have gone slower for the first thrust, because you cry out and rock forwards, your elbows nearly buckling, but he'd been a little too eager to sheathe himself fully inside of you. He gasps out and takes a second to just feel, noting that his hips are now flush against yours, and he can feel your warm skin, he can feel your warm body, he can feel your warm hole swallowing him up and keeping him stuck in place. It feels like a divorce to pull out, but he does it so that he can push in again, moving slow to make sure you don't get hurt. he knows it's gonna start out uncomfortable but you're still pushing back into him, and you're breathing slow and steady, trying to steady yourself through the initial difference in feeling so that you can enjoy it.

"Sorry." He grunts, feeling every single ounce of pressure against his cock as you squeeze him, trying so hard not to let himself collapse over you. He's strong enough to hold himself up but you're making him so weak, so frazzled and braindead that he just wants to collapse and take in the way he's buried in your ass forever. He makes the mistake of looking down as he pulls out and he nearly busts right then and there watching your hole perfectly conform to the width of his cock.

His breath is huffing over your back, and he finally sets a steady pace when you're feeling okay enough for it. As soon as he gets a rhythm going he knows he'll never stop, grunting and panting and groaning as he feels the most intense pleasure he's ever felt, better than his hand, better than your hand, better than your mouth. You're so tight and hot and you're already trembling, and he can't stop himself from leaning down to press his face into your back. his nose digs into the back of your neck and his mouth just sort of opens so that he can press his lips and tongue and skin to your flesh, mindless and needy and sticky as he ruts his hips desperately, roughly, greedily against your ass.

He's rocking into you like a man starved and you feel him hitting impossibly deep in a spot you've never had anything hit before. It's pleasurable, yes, but it's not enough, and if you could drag a hand to your cunt to play with yourself you would. but your arms are shaking and it's all you can do to stay on all fours, while clark pounds your ass. his dick is thick and strong and your cunt aches for it but you'll have to be satisfied with this. your mouth falls open at the feeling of being so full and then so empty, over and over and over again. it's like a vacuum, and you arch backwards into him with each pull-out, desperate to fill that empty space as if he's not going to force his way back in within a fraction of a second. It's an addictive rhythm, and you moan over and over and over again as he buries himself in your ass.

He's dragging you closer, pumping his hips harder, holding you tighter with every thrust and he finds himself embarrassingly fast to finish. he should be stronger than this, he should be able to contain himself for longer than a few minutes but the way your hole keeps that constant, tight pressure on him has him coming undone quicker than he'd like to admit. He's got a condom on so he can cum inside no sweat, but he hadn't even thought about it before it had happened, and he wonders if you'd have asked him to pull out had you had the time. he doesn't, and there's so much that it fills out any gaps between the condom and his dick. It's messy and gross and squelchy as he rides it out but he's so overwhelmed by the feeling of your hole that he can't do anything but keep going. all he can do is keep pumping his hips, grunting and groaning into your back as your hole milks his orgasm, and he has to consciously hold himself up instead of collapsing over your back. he's strong enough to stay upright but it just feels so good, like nothing he's ever had before. He knows he's cum before you, he knows you haven't cum at all, and that you're not likely to from just this. but he'll fix that in a minute, as soon as he gets over the mindblowing feeling of you clenching around him.

he pulls out and you whimper at the final loss of contact, still pressing back for more. He drags himself off of you and presses a sweet kiss to the curve of your ass, soothing the sting from where his hips had slammed into your skin over and over again. you're panting and you finally hit the floor, resting even though your body wants stimulation and now. Clark drags you into his lap, letting you sit against his chest while carefully avoiding his sensitive cock. Next time- god, he's already getting hard over next time, he'll bounce you on his lap. but for now he reaches for your cunt with his clean hand, finding it wet and begging for his fingers just like your ass was.

"Thank you," He murmurs, nosing at your temple as you lay in his lap, jolting and squirming as he slips two fingers inside your ready-and-waiting cunt, "Fuck, thank you, that was- that was so good."

"Clark!" You turn into his chest, holes screaming with sensation as he fingers you, finally giving you enough to get off on, "You- I- I want you inside again."

"Now?" He asks, breathless, his lips pinkened and puffy from his teeth gnawing at them. You nod and he lets you clamor onto his thighs, already lining himself up to fuck your hole again. When you sink down onto him it takes some bracing and effort, but he slips right back into the now familiar-rhythm of up and down, in and out, deliciously tight pressure, and he knows he'll never be fully content with his hand ever again.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent smut #clark kent blurb #clark kent imagine #clark kent fanfiction

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lawboysammyy · 26 days ago

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clark kent x sensitive!reader

• sensitive!reader and clark met when he found her standing in the hallway with teary eyes, practically shaking because she was having a bit of a freak out over her english teacher’s scolding

• she acquired the nickname “angel” after a halloween party when she was dressed as an angel and forced clark to be the devil on her shoulder

• now angel is a sweet girl, really, but she can be a bit of a crybaby when things get too overwhelming

• clark has learned that the best way to calm his girl down after a rough day is letting her lay on his strong chest and take a long nap

• if you can’t find sensitive!reader, she’s probably asleep in either her bed or clark’s, or she’s making baked goods with martha kent

• angel doesn’t have many friends, but she does get quite close with mrs. kent once she and clark start dating

• clark and angel may seem like she would be a bit too much for clark and his crazy life, but the kent boy really does enjoy knowing that he’ll always know how to come to his girl’s rescue; a forehead kiss and long nap with her head in clark’s lap

author’s note: feel free to send in asks about clark or one of the readers 😊

#sensitive!reader #smallville #clark kent x reader #clark kent #tom welling #headcanons #moodboard #clark kent fanfiction #tom welling x reader

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svnriseblvdd · 1 month ago

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neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: clark is invited over to help build some of your furniture, and you'll do your best to make him break

WARNINGS: very suggestive, mdni, mentions of boners, allusions to masturbation (m), clark is so down, he needs loving desperately.

part one! part two! part three!

Clark rings your doorbell and waits for you to answer. You don’t take long to answer, which isn’t particularly helpful when Clark is still trying to mentally prepare himself for spending the day with you, because the entire way over to your house apparently wasn’t enough for it.

You open the door, in a sports bra and gym shorts, and Clark feels like he’ll melt immediately. “Hey! Clark, I’m so glad you’re here. You’re such a lifesaver.” You pull him into the house. “You’re earlier than I thought you’d be, but that’s okay. I was going to change before you came over otherwise I’d be all sweaty and everything. I’ve been doing yoga. It’s really good for you, you know. It makes me really flexible, I can bend all sorts of ways now.”

Clark tries not to think about the implications of that. He tried not to think about all the different ways you can bend, the way you’d bend for him, as he throws himself totally into your body and pleasure.

“Yeah, that’s-” He clears his throat. “That’s nice.”

“Do you want a drink? We’ve got chilled water in the fridge, soda, juice… oh, I made lemonade, if you wanted some.”

“Uh, yeah, lemonade sounds good.”

“Great! Let me get a glass.” You reach up into a cupboard, pushing yourself onto your toes to reach a glass, and Clark averts his gaze as the bottom of your sports bra slides up slightly with the stretch. It’s not like your back is particularly scandalous, but the presentation of bare skin on a place usually covered is difficult to handle.

You pour a glass and hand it to him, before sticking the jug back into the fridge and reaching for a bottle. “Are you not having any?” He asks.

“No, I’ve drunk so much lemonade, it’s practically pouring out of me at this point.” You laugh a little.

“So, what is it you want me to do?” Clark questions.

“I just need help putting together some furniture. It’s so much quicker having two people doing it. It’s a nightstand, a bookcase, and a vanity.”

You take a sip of the water, and a small droplet falls through the air as you pull it away, dripping right onto your sternum. You’re looking outside when it happens, unphased by it, and Clark’s eyes track it down, down, down… as it slips into your cleavage. He imagines following the trail it leaves with his tongue, the way you’d shiver. And now he’s about ready to pop a boner over a drop of water.

“Come upstairs.” You lead him up the stairs, along the hall, and into your room.

Clark takes a look around as he walks in. You’ve still got boxes of things to unpack, but there’s a lot of empty space in your room where the furniture has to go. The furniture sits in boxes propped up against the wall, and you’ve already got a wardrobe and drawers for your clothes. And your underwear is on the bed.

Your underwear is on the bed.

Clark skips over it quite quickly, but it’s difficult to ignore. It’s a small heap of bras and panties, a mix of bright colours and neutral tones, and a lot of lace. He’s going to explode. He’s sure of it now.

“Sorry about that, it’s just I need to reorganise the drawers to fit all of it in, and I just haven’t had the time.”

You set your bottle on a windowsill, and begin to unpack the pieces for your nightstand, Clark’s lemonade sitting on the windowsill before he joins you on the floor. “This doesn’t look too hard,” he says, although he thinks he probably does.

“Yeah, hopefully.”

He’s right. The nightstand goes up quickly and easily just like he does. And then you’re moving onto the bookcase, which is also particularly easy.

You take a break before starting on the vanity, and it’s during this that Clark becomes certain he’s close to breaking point. “Thank you so much for helping, Clark.”

“Yeah, of course, any time.”

“You’re so good, you’re always there to help if I need you. And I really did need you today.” Oh, God. “Moving in is such a nightmare. It’s so long and hard.” Your voice carries a bit of a whine to it, which Clark doesn’t know is on purpose, but it wrecks him. You don’t seem to realise the double entendre in your words, but Clark definitely does. Surely you can’t know what the implications are, you don’t really mean these things.

The vanity goes up after, and you’re very happy for everything to be finished, especially so quickly.

“We did it!” You celebrate. “You’re so fast, Clark. And so helpful. Once again, you know, anything I can do to pay you back or help you out, I’ll do it. Just tell me.”

“No, it’s all good. You’re okay.”

“Please, Clark, let me know what I can do for you. Promise I’ll help out.”

He nods a little. “I’ll think of something.”

You reach up to hug him, grinning.

~~~

It's not until later, when Clark is gasping and whining out your name and the post-nut clarity hits, that the guilt begins to settle in. Clark feels terrible. You're his friend, his neighbour. You need his help, and here he is, falling apart at the thought of you. And you can't know how your words are affecting him. In fact, he's not sure that you know at all what you're insinuating, not when you do it so often and when you seem none the wiser.

tagged: @blueeweeb

#muse: clark #smallville clark kent x reader #smallville clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut

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beaucate · 29 days ago

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˚₊‧🍓⭒🧺‧₊˚ INTRODUCING OBLIVIOUS READER

oblivious reader x clark kent one. / more works of this below.

OBLIVIOUS READER who doesn't realize that the vibrant green glow running within her blood stream, is all because of the farm boy whose smile is so gentle it leaves her brain all fuzzy.

OBLIVIOUS READER just does not see the way said 'farm boy' would set his eyes on her every chance he gets, always a little too aware to where she is in a room. it has to be on lois or lana; because why would his eyes soften, and cheeks flame as red as his flannel just because of her?

OBLIVIOUS READER thinks the shyness he displays is all part of farm boy charm. not noticing that he's memorized her coffee order (one pack of sweetener and two pumps of caramel). she ignores how the rough callouses of his knuckles constantly brush the sides of her arms when he's 'passing by' and slowing down his steps to match by the rhythm of her walking.

OBLIVIOUS READER never questions why clark is somehow always around. with every walk home in the middle of the night, every time she's been in dire need of help - before even muttering the word for it; clark is always just close enough to make sure her needs are more than met.

works

oblivious reader one.

nsfw blurb.

i am so so excited to write more of her! any requests or thoughts are so welcome my mind is full of this atm! i also very clearly couldn't decide between tom or clark, so i'll try to make the writing as neutral as possible - if not specifically labelling it.

#๑°⋆｡ ୨୧ ⌗ clark kent #๑°⋆｡ oblivious!reader #david clark kent #tom clark kent #smallville clark kent #smallville clark kent x reader #clark kent x reader #superman x reader #clark kent drabble #clark kent x fem reader #clark kent imagine #tom welling #david corenswet #clark kent x you #oblivious reader #clark kent fluff #clark kent angst #clark kent smut

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angelltheninth · 2 months ago

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Riding Clark Kent Because He's Too Scared of Hurting You

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cock riding, praise, strength difference, orgasm encouragement, size kink, big cock, sweet!Clark Kent

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: He's making me crazy! I can't wait for this movies, I will be there on day fucking one!

His large hands lock against your thighs, spreading them far enough so you can straddle him properly

But that is as far as Clark will go until he's more comfortable with using his strength, or speed for that matter, when you're having sex

While rare that he sweats he does when he's holding back

That's why he trusts you to take the lead and lets you set the pace

It doesn't matter how many times you get him to come, he stays hard until you've had enough

Due to his superhearing the sounds are all amplified, the sound of your pussy stretching around his girth, the sound of sticky cum being pushed in and out, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass every time you go down, the sound of your hips hitting his, the sounds of your cute moans

He doesn't have to be on his back for you to ride him, he can be towering over you, his hands placed against the wall, you in front of him, rolling your hips into him, your ass smacking against his steel hard abs

The only way he will touch you is when he pus his thumb on your clit and vibrates it

Clark loves when you order him to come while you're riding him

It's just a few words for you, or it can be after you've edged him for a little bit and you can see the veins in his neck bulging as he clenches his jaw in the effort to hold back until you say he doesn't have to anymore

You don't even have to move your hips that much after a few rounds, you can stay on top of him, holding onto his shoulder, and let your tight pussy do the work, clench and unclench around his big cock

Mutters praise in Kryptonian, and even a few dirty words every time he finishes

So much so that you've even learned a few phrases and say it back to him

That really drives him insane, to hear his girlfriend talking dirty to him in Kryptoanian, that you bothered to remember, that you learned, he's beside himself with joy, talking even louder, words slurring together as he unloads his cum into your pussy

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #dc comics x reader #clark kent imagine #superman imagine #dc comics imagine #clark kent headcanons #superman headcanons #dc comics headcanons #clark kent smut #superman smut #dc comics smut #clark kent x you #superman x you #dc comics x you #clark kent x female reader #superman x female reader #dc comics x female reader #x female reader

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victorian-nymph · 8 months ago

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btw this was about the fact i couldn't find any fics where he's a fucking sub lol ♥️

There was a wild amount of noncon fics when i was looking for superman fics but the thing that threw me off the most was the sentence "alpha clark kent" cause then i have to be like oh yeah these are dcu fanfics, I was floored cause i was like "wait this guy;

#does anyone have bottom clark kent x reader fics asking for a friend-#doing this on my main was a CHOICE #i want to ride christopher reeve like a fucking priz- wait maybe making horse related jokes is a bad choice

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daylighted · 2 months ago

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the file of 𝓭𝓸𝓮!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻.

pouty lips . . . sugary iced lattes . . . baking . . . collecting squishmallows . . . sweetheart . . . romance books . . . big doe eyes . . . weighted blankets . . . pink sunsets . . . white lace . . . gentle rain sounds . . . oversized sweaters . . . decorating . . . journaling . . . hand holding . . . cherry popsicles . . . vanilla scents . . . peach blush !

────────────────────────────────────────────

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ㅤ you've got a match !! ㅤ ─ ♡ ─

clark kent. the pretty, sweet thing that hangs off of his arm like it's a job in of itself. you love him, you adore him, and he'd do anything in the world for you. you're the apple of his eye.

alec mcdowell. polar opposites, you and alec seemed drawn to each other from the beginning. the pessimist to your optimist. the sass to your sweet. you're as complimentary as brown sugar & vanilla.

soldier boy. you were not something that could have been predicted for ben. an innocent little thing that looked at him like he hung the moon? no, ben could never have predicted you, but that didn't mean he was going to just give you up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ㅤ doe's texts !! ㅤ ─ ♡ ─

to, clark.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ 18+ ! ] just a little more. ㅤㅤㅤㅤlightning skies.

to, alec.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤworks in progress . . .

to, ben.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ 18+ ! ] her pretty thoughts.

notes. or. something incredibly self indulgent & to force encourage me to write characters i don't / haven't !!

feel free to leave reqs if u wanna i do not have any ideas for this atm besides knowing i wanna do it in between stanford!dean things !! <3

tags. @depressionbarbie2023 @jasvtsc @deanswidow @titsout4jackles @cosmicanakin @deansbite @beausling @aileenunfiltered @ostaramoon @ultravi0lence14 @whyyouegg @jackleslvr

#divider by kodaswrld #──★ dahlia's jrnl #doe!reader #clark kent #smallville #clark kent x reader #alec mcdowell #dark angel #alec mcdowell x reader #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles #tom welling

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blackynsupremacy · 5 months ago

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CLARK KENT HELPING

YOU TAKE OUT YOUR

BRAIDS HEADCANONS

pairing: henry cavill!clark x blackfem!reader

fandom: DC

this was brewing in my head while actually taking out my braids today. plus, i wanted to give my baby henry a shot at this.

summary: it’s that time again! time to take down those 1-2 month old braids to prepare for your next fresh set. the only problem is, it’s raining, you’re tired, and you know it’s gonna take forever. yeah even getting your hair taken down, washed, detangled, and dried can be a hassle. fortunately, your fiancé, clark kent, is always happy to help with the process.

contains: lots of words, some things are based on true events, self insert, fluff, romance, established relationship, you and clark are simps, you and clark being fine, nudity but no smut, clark being a green flag, cuddling, kissing.

taglist: @rosiestalez @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @simply-the-best23 @jkr820 @zombiehe4rt @elitesanjisimp @sabrinasopposite @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn

(i know i didn’t ask if ya’ll wanted to be tagged, but y’all are mutuals that consistently interact with my posts, so this is how i’m showing my appreciation! thank you! let me know if any of yall want to be tagged in my next blurb. again thank yall and i love my mutes)

• work was work today.

• it’s raining like hell.

• but good news, you’re getting your hair done this weekend! ain’t nothing like a fresh set of braids.

• the bad news, you gotta take out the old braids, wash/condition/detangle, and blow dry your hair all before your appointment. (yk how these new hair stylists be)

• girl, you’re dead tired, but you know you need to start asap!

• good news again though! your man clark kent is already home and you know he’s always down to help with your hair.

• ya’ll have been dating for 4 years before he popped the question a month ago on your anniversary.

• one thing about clark kent, he’s gonna hype up your hair no matter what style.

• he believes you’re stunning whether you have braids, twists, a lace front, locs, a slick back ponytail, a silk press or, your natural. he loves it!!

• he loves to watch you style it on your own or if you’re following along to a youtube tutorial.

• you’ve taught him a thing or two like taking down braids, detangling, applying edge control, and even helping you to wash and condition it!

• he catches on pretty fast and follows your instructions to a tee.

• his love language is acts of service and when it comes to your hair, he wants to make sure he does it properly.

• he told you he wants to continue learning because he can see himself helping out with your future daughter’s hair, so why not start with his future wife?

• this man is going to be the death of you.

• you see clark sitting on the couch with his laptop. as soon as he hears the door shut followed by your sigh of exhaustion, he’s already putting that to the side and zooming in your direction to take your bag, umbrella, and jacket off your hands.

• this man is teeth rotting sweet. how’d you get so blessed?

• he greets you with a warm embrace and plants a kiss atop of your head. he peeps that new growth, but he won’t mention it until you do.

• you both take a seat on the couch and have a brief conversation about each other’s day. you sigh again and run a hand through your hair one last time.

• “it’s about that time, clark. i’m getting my hair done soon and i need to start taking my braids down, but i’m so tired!”

• you whine and lean your head on his broad shoulder before you peer your “please help me” doe eyes into his blue ones that were hiding behind his glasses. he doesn’t hesitate to keep that eye contact either. it’s so intense yet intimate. you almost look away because even after 4 years, clark can still get you a bit flustered from time to time.

• “baby, would you like to help me out again? i promise you’re not gonna have to do all the work. i just need some assistance to get this done faster.”

• you playfully pout and bat your lashes. you already know the answer, but this brought you joy. you knew he was waiting for an opportunity to help with your hair again.

• he shows off those pearly whites before he enthusiastically responds, “i’d never thought you’d ask. you go change into something more comfortable, i’ll handle the rest, and we can get started.”

• he lays a chaste kiss to your lips and pats your behind to signal for you to handle your business and you don’t hesitate to do so.

• by “handling the rest”, clark gathers the necessities: 2 pairs of scissors, a detangling comb, 4 hair ties for sectioning, a plastic bag from that one drawer in the kitchen, your satin bonnet, and an order of chinese takeout placed on doordash.

• clark was waiting on the couch and he gleamed when he saw you come back clad in a white tank, no bra, grey cotton shorts, and one of his oversized, plaid flannels.

• as soon as you found yourself comfortable on the couch, clark handed you a pair of scissors and ya’ll got to work at cutting the braids shorter before you both section off your hair into 4 parts and start unbraiding from the front.

• you started on the right side, while clark took over for the left.

• you obviously know of clark’s abilities, his extraterrestrial heritage, and his intense duties as superman. he makes sure his powers can be of help in the most important areas of his life, one of them being your relationship.

• he’s had some practice with unbraiding and his fingers moves like clockwork. he moves at a delicate, quick pace and uses his keen eye to make sure your hair doesn’t get tangled or pulled, so there’s no unnecessary breakage. braid by braid, each one is removed out of your head and into the empty, plastic grocery bag that’s placed between you two.

• he’s seen you sometimes get it tangled and you would be quick to just cut it off, but with his aid, you’ve been doing that less frequently.

• after about 30 minutes, clark can already hear the doorbell ring and footsteps walking away. the food’s here.

• he opted for contactless delivery this time because he knew he just had one more braid….and done!

• he urges you to give your hands a break from unbraiding your side and to wash them because your dinner has arrived. he chuckled as you perked up hearing that because you were hon-grey!!

• he also takes it upon himself to gently place your satin, royal blue bonnet on your head.

• it’s his absolute favorite because it’s patterned with his iconic red and gold family crest!

• you have a friend who owns a small business of designing bonnets, durags, and head scarves with the cutest patterns imaginable for black nerds like you.

• they got some with superheroes, anime characters, hogwart house symbols, disney, you name it!!

• 2 years ago, you asked them to commission a bonnet to match his heroic attire.

• this was to show him that you’re proud of his kryptonian roots and that you 100% support him being one of the world’s most selfless heroes along with the other members of the justice league.

• you sometimes worry for his life, but he always tries his best to make it back to you in one piece.

• but girl, that bonnet had him geeking when you showed it to him!! his face heated with a bright hue of pink before he plants a billion kisses all over your face. his voice never ceasing his appreciation and eternal love for you.

• you both chill for a few minutes to eat and watch some tv.

• you stretch your hands, placed your bonnet on the coffee table and resumed to unbraiding the last strand on the front before sectioning it off with a hair tie and starting on the back of the right side. it seems that time moves slower (or faster) as your fingers meticulously unravel each braided strand.

• clark is half way done with his entire side. his brows raise at the sound of your soft groan of what seemed to be pain and exhaustion.

• “babe, my fingers are starting to cramp and so are my arms.” you gripe and pause your movements to massage out the stiffness in your fingers.

• clark also pauses what he’s doing. he delicately grasps your hands into his, sprinkling tiny pecks on each aching knuckle. his pink lips lingers on the rock that adorns the fourth knuckle of your left hand before those baby blues gaze into your own eyes.

• you could clearly see your worn reflection in his pupils, but you lovingly smile as you know what he’s about to say.

• “c’mere, beautiful. let me take care of the rest while you sit and relax. it’s just a few more and it’s nothing i can’t handle, so it’ll be my pleasure.”

• that’s true. clark’s an invincible kryptonian. unless your hair was laced with some green k, a cramp within the joints of his digits wouldn’t be possible. if you ask, he would one day take out your braids all by himself without you having to lift a finger and he’d be in pure bliss of taking that burden off your plate.

• he spreads his thighs apart. the large palms of his hands encircle around your waist to shift your body in between his legs before his fingers get back to tenderly remove the last remaining braids.

• as he does so, you simply enjoy each other’s presence. ya’ll would be cracking jokes, planning suggestions for the wedding, your jobs, and a myriad of other topics to kill time.

• about 30 more minutes pass by and your braids are finally out! he leans back feeling accomplished and marvels at how much your hair has grown over the month.

• “may i?” he politely asks. his expectant eyes glancing into yours for approval.

• “of course, kal.” you grin. it’s like seeing a child light up in a candy store, he’s so elated.

• you feel more at ease and lean into his touch as his fingers lovingly caress through your natural hair and scalp.

• you know that he just wants to feel your hair in it’s natural state. it’s not out of a fetish, but out of pure fascination, so you let him!

• you love that even though you’ve been together for 4 years and he’s helped you with your hair on multiple occasions, the curious kryptonian wonders why he always has to ask you before touching your hair.

• as a journalist, he’s gonna conduct his own research.

• he educates himself and he understands the history of that one boundary in your community, so he always asks you before touching your hair or he waits for you to offer.

• he’s not even human and he understands the basic human decency of not to reach out and touch someone’s hair out of nowhere.

• you sigh in relief and thank clark with a kiss before you go to dispose the plastic bag of worn out braids to the kitchen and into the large garbage can. you turn around and lean up against the sink.

• now it’s time to wash, condition, detangle, and dry.

• clark already knows the next step. he stands from his position on the couch and stretches his back muscles. he moderately saunters to the arched threshold that separates the kitchen and living room. his tall stature works in his favor as he casually raises his arms with his hands gripping the arch that’s a few inches above his head.

• you know exactly what pose i’m trying to poorly describe to the best of my ability. it happens to be one of those non-sexual turn ons that men do without them realizing.

• you go into a bit of a hypnotic state as you stare at his bulging biceps. you also take notice of how his white t-shirt raises up to expose a small section of his sculpted abdomen. the raven tresses on his skin that perfectly matches the messy curls on his head form a trail straight down to his—

• the trance is broken by the baritone voice of your fiancé.

• “my eyes are up here, angel. were you even listening to me?” he flirtatiously quips and tilts his head with a playful smirk curving on his lips, lowering his arms to cross them over his chest.

• like some suave lady killer, he approaches you and places his index under your chin to shift your gaze to his.

• girl, not you getting caught in 4K! you know that man is fine, but you got to finish off your hair. there’s no time to waste when it comes to that, so you must stay focused.

• you can’t help, but feel the heat of embarrassment rush on your melanated cheeks and giggle nervously before you confess.

• “i’m sorry, clark! after all of these years, you still get me sprung. now, what were you saying, boo? ”

• “it’s no worries, (n/n). don’t doubt that you’ve got the same effect on me too.” he blushes himself, beaming at the compliment and pecks your forehead, nose, and lips before he resumes his question.

• “would you like to wash in the sink or shower?”

• he bursts into a joyous laugh as you don’t hesitate to choose the shower.

• of course he was hoping you’d say that, but you shut down the idea because you just want to kill two birds with one stone, wrap this up, and cuddle in bed.

• he understands where you’re coming from and it’s no pressure at all. you both love when you two get down in the bedroom, but you share a common belief that spending quality time is the key to true intimacy.

• he takes your hand and leads you both to your shared bathroom.

• he puts his glasses on the sink, switches on the shower and checks for the perfect temperature that’s not too hot for your scalp, but not too cool for your body.

• you go to obtain large drying towels, african net wash cloths, and disposable shower caps. you then seek out the shampoo, conditioner, and detangling cream to nourish and clean your hair.

• you return to the bathroom with the items and clark gets your second opinion on the water temperature. you get a feel and let him know that it’s just right before you both strip of your clothes until you’re both completely naked. you make sure your engagement ring is placed in the velvet box it came in and set it on your drawer before you both step under the running water.

• clark reaches up to detach the shower head. before making a move, he asks if you need any further assistance in this step and you gladly accept, closing your eyes as he handles the shower head to pre-rinse both of your heads for a well deserved cleaning.

• as he puts the shower head back where it belongs, you let him know that you want to do the shampooing for both you and him.

• yep, clark uses your products on his hair!

• one time after your fifth date, he hugged you and his sensitive nose stealthily picked up on the natural, sweet, and intoxicating scent of the hair lotion that seeped into your scalp. he thought at first it was your perfume, which he loves too, but he was mistaken!

• “my god, you smell amazing.”

• clark takes you out to dinner and feeds your ego! okay, kal-el!

• he couldn’t get enough of it!

• this aroma— it was like something fresh and made from natural ingredients without any harsh chemicals.

• it reminds him of the homegrown warmth and love that his parents, jonathan and martha raised him up in back in smallville.

• if it wasn’t so soon (or the fact that he hasn’t told you his secret then), he would literally fly you out there in 10 minutes.

• when you moved in together, he would sometimes sneak a bit of your shampoo and conditioner in his hair routine once or twice a week until you finally caught up to him!

• you scolded clark a bit for using your products without permission because you would’ve let him use a little if he’d ask and plus, that stuff was expensive!

• he looked genuinely remorseful and apologized. “i’m sorry, (f/n). it was wrong of me to sneak like that, but i just wanted to use it because it’s like i’m taking a part of you with me everywhere i go. that way even though we’re apart, i don’t feel so alone in this universe anymore.”

• that almost had you crying and throwing up. he’s as big a simp for you as you are for him, so you couldn’t stay mad at him!

• you had an agreement to share or double up as long as you both are putting in for it.

• it was definitely no problem for clark because besides it’s sentimental value, it does wonders for his hair! it looks healthier, shinier and it feels softer compared to those 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner concoctions that he’s been using since high school.

• he loves your weekly beauty supply store excursions. he doesn’t care if the 6 items in your cart is $35, he’s paying for it all!

• clark’s aqua pupils observes from behind as you pour a generous amount of shampoo into your palm, rubbing the other against it, and massaging the bubbly, white substance through your scalp. your fingers work to make sure every single hair on your head is lathered in the coconut scented liquid and he notices that you’re careful not to tangle it.

• his own trance is broken by a “your turn! now lean down a bit, my love.” you’re now waiting for him to follow through, leaning his head down and forward to make his now drenched, dark hair right in your view and in your reach.

• he exhales at the contact of the cold shampoo descending on his scalp. as your fingers massage through his hair, his eyes close and a smile of ecstasy plays on his lips.

• your touch, the scent of the product, and the fact that if he opened his eyes again at this very moment, your breasts would be right in his face is clark’s idea of his personal heaven.

• you both take turns to rinse your own hair and each others to double check that all of the suds of the shampoo are gone.

• you repeat the process again, but this time it’s with conditioner. once that’s applied, you both put on the shower caps to let it rest and do its thing.

• you both use that time to talk some more and thoroughly clean your bodies of the filth of the work day using the african net wash clothes and aromatherapy body wash.

• after one last rinse of ya’lls hair, you cut the water off and grab the towels set out to wrap around your soaked bodies and dripping hair before walking to your shared bedroom.

• fortunately, you and clark have your own respective hair dryers, so that step doesn’t take too long before you take on the final boss: detangling.

• still clad in your towels, you and clark apply the detangling cream through your scalps. as he uses his comb to effortlessly rake through his noir mop, you just kind of stand and stare at the detangling brush in your hand.

• if you’re tender headed, you’ve probably lived the nightmare over and over with your heavy handed mother tugging the comb through the knotted ends, jolting your head and neck forward as you whined in pain. of course she got mad at you for that and said that it didn’t even hurt.

• you’re grown now! with your own bills, home, car, job, and man. there’s way more stressful things in the world than getting some knots out.

• you start the teeth of the comb from the root of your hair and hear the wet stickiness of the detangling cream as it glides to the end.

• okay, we’re getting somewhere! no pain or the pulling of knots for the next few strands near the front. now let’s start on the back. comb one, comb two, comb three—

• “ow, ugh!” you yelp. cringing as you hit a knot at the end.

“ woah! sweetheart, are you alright?”

• clark immediately halts his actions and puts his comb down. he takes one step behind you to examine the situation.

“please, lord, don’t tell me it’s tangled that bad.”

• you attempt to comb without breaking your hair out and the more you try, the more painful it gets. your arms and hands started to stiffen again.

• you lowkey wanted to cry because you just want this to be done and sleep peacefully in clark’s arms for the rest of the night.

• you immediately ask clark for help and he once again, comes to the rescue. he was gentle and comforting, but straightforward when it came to getting those knots.

• he talks you through it to make this a little easier.

• “i’m so sorry, honey. this is gonna hurt a bit, but we’re gonna knock these out and go straight to bed in no time, okay? i love you.” he kisses your temple before he proceeds with the task.

• several minutes of detangling are over! clark gets a second shower of kisses all over his face as you thank him again.

• you discard your towels and replace them with your nightclothes. clark’s shirtless with his sweats and you’re comfortable in another one of clark’s shirts with a fresh pair of cotton shorts.

• you put your hair in an afro puff ponytail and as always, you let your fiancé do the honors of placing your superman patterned bonnet on over your hair like a king crowning his queen.

• he looks at you with such pride and joy. seeing you happy feels so good it hurts. it makes him feel as weak as when he’s around green k. maybe even more.

• clark wouldn’t feel too comfortable to wrap his hair up just yet, so you suggested he uses a satin pillowcase instead.

• speaking of pillows, you look at the clock and realize it’s gotten late. you and clark shut off the lights and retire your exhausted bodies into your bed.

• you lay in a fetal position and turn to face him. kryptonians don’t usually need that much sleep as humans do, so you weren’t surprised that he was still awake.

• you both gaze and admire each other in comfortable silence. your hand reaching to his jaw. your brown toned fingertips caress the pale yet angelic face of the man you love. he closes his eyelids and leans into your warm touch.

• like a magnet, you drew closer to his face until your, full yearning lips rested on his. it doesn’t take him a second to melt into it, his hands clinging to your waist to rest your figure on top of his. your palms find themselves to rest on each side of his jawline.

• between each kiss, the moonlight illuminates the wide smiles you exchange to each other.

• after you two get your fill of each other’s affection, you lay your head on clark’s chest with his arms still acting as a shield around your back. he pecks your temple and is pulled in by the music of your steady heartbeat. he looks down to see your eyes pointed toward his and your hands folded flat on his chest.

• “thank you, clark. thank you so much for your help, your patience, your kindness, your love, and your compassion. not to mention that you are so fine, you still get me giggling like a schoolgirl at my big age! whether you’re superman, clark kent, or kal-el, i just thank you for being you. i love you, clark kent and that’ll never change.” your lips curve with a beaming smile.

• “(f/n), you need to know that everything i do, i do it for you and i’d do it again. you’re the most beautiful person and i’m not just talking about your stunning beauty. your heart is golden. despite everything that we’ve been through, it’s always been you. you understand me, you give me grace and hold me accountable, you still believe in me when i don’t even believe in myself. that’s how i knew i had to ask you to marry me, so i love you more, (f/n) kent and that’ll never change.”

• “look at us! we’ve only been engaged for a month and it sounds like we’re exchanging vows already.”

• “that sounds like a great start to me.”

• you both laugh and he gives you one last lingering kiss on your lips. your heads drop and your eyelids close before you take your peaceful slumber in each other’s presence.

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ladybirdswritings · 2 months ago

Text

INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at, and now he’s finding it hard to resist you. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

four;

You had only one partner in your entire life—and Christ knew how awfully that ended. Still, each relationship taught you the same lesson: crying in front of them, especially too quickly, was as cruel as a death sentence.

But here you were, eyes glossy as you fought to suppress every awful, hopeless feeling swelling in your chest, the credits of The Notebook rolling on the screen.

Did that love even exist? Better yet, would you ever find it?

You couldn’t stop the quiver in your pretty, pink lips.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Hey,” Clark called, his laugh breathy, and your shoulders tensed.

You didn’t want to rush this, or push anything further. You weren’t entirely convinced he wasn’t hiding something underneath that perfect façade.

But Clark hadn’t hurt you when he brought you to his apartment. He hadn’t hovered over you when you sat on his dark emerald couch. Quite the opposite, in fact—he’d given you space, letting you curl up in the corner with a blanket, sitting a cushion away to make sure you felt comfortable.

Funnily enough, your mind wandered to how his body had felt in the bookshop just hours before, swaying so close to yours.

Christ…

“I’m fine.” You laughed at yourself, shaking your head, a sniffle escaping as your eyes blinked, letting two tears fall. Clark adjusted his glasses with his wrist, grabbing a tissue from his abstract glass table and offering it to you. You accepted it gratefully.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he cooed, his voice a deep, soothing balm for the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. “I’ve cried at this film too.”

He was lying, but his words made you laugh, and that was enough for him. He grinned as you wiped your tears away.

“Are you lying to me?” Your watery doe eyes were too pretty a sight—and though Clark prided himself on being a strong man, he grew weak under your gaze.

“Yes,” he admitted, and after a long pause, you both erupted into a fit of laughter—breathless and wiping your eyes when it ended.

Clark sighed long and deep, leaning back against the cushions, gazing lazily at you with one arm resting along the back of the couch, his fingers grazing your shoulder.

“God, you’re pretty.” The words slipped out like a breath, and that ever-present pinch returned to his brows when he realized what he’d said. But when you flushed a soft pink and brought your shy gaze to meet his, he made no effort to take the words back.

A comfortable silence settled between you both. You peered at him through watery lashes, and he gazed at you with a soft smile, as though he was memorizing the delicate features of your face.

“Clark,” you started, and he hummed in response, too busy counting the sparse freckles on your face, tracing constellations in their scattered stars.

“Why’d you ask me out on a date?”

Maybe it was the wine, the gentle breeze flowing through the window, or the way he looked at you—as if he’d known you for a thousand lifetimes. Whatever it was, you couldn’t suppress the question from slipping past your lips.

He shifted, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he considered your words.

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s interested me,” he said plainly, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. Your curious mind didn’t think that was enough—but before you could push for more, you held back the urge.

He turned his head to you slowly, tilting it with a playful glint.

“Why’d you say yes?” he asked, grinning lazily.

You found yourself flushing pink again as you considered your answer.

Because you look like Adonis.

Because I’d be an idiot to say no.

Because I need to know if you’re a serial killer or not.

“Because you read books.”

Oof.

You winced as the words left your mouth, watching his brows furrow and the grin slowly fade from his lips. You felt the urge to crawl into a hole, but instead, you scooted closer on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you.

“I’m awful with words,” you admitted, voice small.

Clark recovered quickly, masking his brief disappointment with another lazy grin. “But you’re pretty,” he repeated, his gaze softening as he leaned closer to you.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. Your gazes locked, pulling you both closer like magnets.

And then, in a blink, he was there. One arm on your hip, just like earlier. The other gripped the couch as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to his self-control.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he whispered.

And though the parts of you scarred by past trauma screamed for you to take it slow, to hold back—

Well.

Fuck it.

You nodded once, and his lips were on yours—soft, slow, and tentative.

One peck, and he pulled back, scanning your eyes for any trace of regret or hesitation. When he found none, he dove in again. Only this time, his glasses bumped your nose.

You winced, and his eyes widened. But then you broke into an amused smile. He mirrored you, a ghost of a laugh playing on his lips as he removed his too-big glasses and set them aside.

“Let me kiss it better, baby,” he whispered, and God, you melted.

Baby.

In that moment, you knew. Even if he eventually broke your heart or turned cruel, you’d still long to hear that word fall from his lips.

Oh, but slowly, he leaned forward again and pressed a soft kiss to where his glasses had bumped your nose. Then another to your cheek, and another, then your eyelids, your chin, your forehead—exploring you, savoring you. He hovered just shy of your lips, his arms warming your skin, his fingers finding a home cupping your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against the apples of them.

“I want to keep kissing you,” he whispered, his voice strained, deeper now. You interrupted him, unknowingly.

“So do it, Clark.”

He inhaled sharply, a strained grin playing at the corners of his lips.

If he were a lesser man…

“If I keep kissing you,” he admitted, his voice low and heated, “I’m going to have a hard time stopping.”

And you swayed in your seat, body humming with anticipation. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead, each one igniting the fire inside you, while your eyes dropped downward.

And then you saw it.

A bulge—strained but undeniable—aching to be released. To be touched.

A very big, demanding bulge.

Maybe his kisses were meant to distract you from it. Or maybe he wanted your innocent little eyes to fall upon it.

Unbeknownst to you, it had started to ache the moment he inhaled your intoxicating scent in the bookshop. One kiss, and it had been pulsing.

You gulped, wide-eyed as his kisses moved to your temples, his lashes tickling your skin.

Maybe it was the way he called you baby, or maybe it was curiosity… or maybe, just maybe, you felt as though you owed him something.

Yes, that was it.

He’d been so kind to you. Wasn’t this your obligation?

It’s certainly what your ex used to believe…

You winced as your shaky hand reached for his denim, slowly grazing the firm bulge, your fingers testing the limits of its tightness.

He tensed, his grip on your face tightening as he leaned back a fraction. Awe glazed your expression as you watched him close his eyes, jaw tight and lips pursed. A guttural moan escaped him, shaking both his chest and yours.

You had to keep going, if only to hear that delectable sound again.

Slowly, your fingers found the zipper, inching lower and lower—until his hand snapped down to capture your wrist.

Mortification spread across your cheeks like wisteria vines.

He stopped you, holding your wrist for a moment, catching his breath before his eyes fluttered open again, scanning your face.

A slow, lazy kiss pressed to your wrist, then two more to your reddened cheeks.

“You had wine,” he whispered against your neck, dipping his head into the crook and licking lazily at your pulse.

He hadn’t let go of your hand—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t trust himself.

His words took a moment to make sense in your foggy mind, but when they did, relief flooded your tense body. You relaxed against him.

He did want you— he just didn’t want you buzzing from wine.

He wanted you whole, complete, present.

You shivered as he traced his tongue from your throat to the soft place beneath your ear, pressing a final kiss there before pulling back.

His face had changed now.

Gone was the gentle, bookish man who’d kindled a fire both for and in you and let you ramble about books. No, this Clark was different—hungry, staring at the finest ambrosia before him.

Ready to pounce.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, and you realized then you'd been staring at his lips.

You licked your own.

"I'm okay, Clark."

He nodded, and in a swift motion, you were seated in his lap, his bulge pressing against your plump bum. The clothing between you only deepened the pulsing ache.

"You just bite me if I cross a line, okay?" You giggled softly at that, and he only nibbled your ear in response, wrapping two strong arms around you and settling back against the couch.

You had been the most fun he'd had in a while—and damn if he wasn't already dreading the moment when you'd part.

"Can I take you home tonight?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a new intensity that made your breath catch. His hands were gentle on your waist, but the tension in his grip told you that he wasn’t quite as calm as he appeared.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts and even stronger feelings. You’d never felt so simultaneously vulnerable and desired. There was something about him—something in the way he treated you with patience and respect—that made your guard slip, just a little. And yet, the fear of getting too close, too quickly, still lurked in the back of your mind.

You swallowed hard, trying to push past the anxiety. This isn’t the same as before, you reminded yourself. It doesn’t have to be.

“I think I’d like that,” you said finally, your voice shaky but sincere. You could feel his grip tighten slightly, as though he was holding his breath.

“Are you sure?” He searched your face, wanting to be absolutely certain that you weren’t just saying yes out of some sense of obligation or fear of disappointing him.

You nodded, and a small smile played at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

The air between you two shifted, as if the space around you had contracted and expanded all at once, drawing you closer to him. Clark’s eyes softened, and his smile was tender, almost reverent, as he kissed your forehead once more.

“Okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. “C’mon pretty girl.”

He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You took it, allowing him to help you up from the couch, and together, you made your way to the cherrywood door. As you walked out into January’s chill, you found yourself unsurprised when he draped his coat over your shoulders.

As you climbed into the truck, Clark reached over to start the engine, but before he did, he turned to look at you once more, his gaze soft and searching.

“I want you to know ,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “this isn’t just a pass of time for me or my pleasure. You’re pretty, and you’re incredibly tempting… but I don’t expect a thing from you. That’s not the man I am.”

He could be lying. As your ex had, as many others had before. Christ, you’d just met him a few weeks ago. Were you to believe his words were truly more than just a ploy to get you comfortable?

One stolen glance into his blue-gray gaze though, and you just knew that could not be true.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, a mix of relief and something else—something deeper, something unfamiliar but present. You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his hand as he reached for the gear shift.

“I’m not like that either,” you replied, your voice steady and sincere. “But I think you know that.”

He grinned, not needing to say more words as the tension eased from his shoulders and he shifted the car into drive. As you pulled away from the apartment building and into the quiet streets, you weighed each syllable of his words with scrutiny. You thought yourself to be a fool for considering them honest.

But that was okay.

Clark Kent was a man more than determined to prove your pretty little mind wrong…

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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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Alone again - Naturally

Summary: Even around your so-called friend you are alone.

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, loner reader, introvert reader, flirty Clark, low self-esteem, almost accident, fluff, Lois bashing

Alone again. Naturally.

You should’ve known better than to go out with your so-called friend.

A few years back Lois Lane was your best friend. Now you are only an excuse for her to go to a bar or attend a party without one of her flings.

She always was the one drawing all the attention toward her person. In high school, during your freshman year and after you landed your first job at a cat magazine.

Lois Lane. The rising star.

You have always been in her shadow, and this will never change. If you are shy, meek, and introverted, people easily overlook you.

Just like tonight. Lois is once again the center of the party. She chuckles loudly and bathes in the attention she gets from the men in the room.

You sigh deeply, wishing you didn’t follow her invitation to the party her employer throws only for her.

Her latest article got all the attention, while your job led to nothing but articles about birthdays, other people’s weddings, and missing cats.

Your career is just like your love life – non-existent.

Her laughter fills the room, and when she looks your way you hope Lois will save you from drowning in self-pity. Sadly, she turns her back on you to talk to someone else than you.

She always does this. Sometimes you believe she’s the cruelest person on the planet. Maybe she only keeps you around to show you how much better her life is.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” crap, someone found you standing in the corner. Now you have to engage in small talk. You wring your hands and force a smile on your face. “Hi, I’m Clark Kent.”

“Hi,” you glance at his offered hand and murmur your name. “I’m not working here.”

“I got that,” he flashes you a stunning smile. “I assume one of the gentlemen brought his charming girlfriend with him. A shame he left you here.”

“Oh, no,” you shake your head. “Lois invited me and she’s…” You bite your tongue. This man is a stranger, and you don’t want him to believe you are the kind of person talking behind your friend’s back. “She’s busy and I’m not much of a partygoer.”

“Honestly, I came here to hide in the shadows. I’m not much of a partygoer myself,” he grins and finally drops his hand. “So, what do you do for a living.”

“I’m a…” You are embarrassed to admit that you are working for an unimportant online magazine that barely anyone reads. “I write articles.”

“Oh, I’d like to read some. Where can I read them?” He gives you a soft smile. “Anything I should read first?”

“I write about missing cats and such,” you drop your eyes to avert his gaze. “Nothing important like you and Lois. I guess no one even reads the things I write.”

“I’d still like to read your articles.”

“It’s fine, really,” you sniff, and wring your hands again. “I know that the things I write about are boring. No one wants to know about Miss Fluffy ending up stuck in the neighbor’s car. You don’t want to read the things I wrote about.”

“Never underestimate your talent,” Clark tries to cheer you up, but you don’t believe a single word leaving his lips. “I’m sure you are a very good author.”

“No. I’m not.” Your fake smile drops. “I know my place, Mr. Kent.” You get defensive and step back. “You should go back to the party and talk to more interesting people.”

“What about?” He asks as you try to find a way to sneak out of the room without drawing any attention toward you. “Why don’t you come with me and talk to some of the people in the room?”

“I told you, I’m not much of a partygoer, or good at making small talk,” you wince at your words. You sound like the pathetic loser you are in your opinion. “Uh-I should go now.”

“What about Lois?” Clark takes a step toward you. “Don’t you want to say goodbye to her at least?”

You glance at Lois and quickly avert her gaze. She’s not in the mood to hold your hand or talk to you. “I think she’s good without me.” Your voice cracks. “I don’t even know why she invited me.”

“Wait—” Clark tries to stop you, but you hurriedly make your way toward the exit. “Y/N, don’t just go.”

You are out of breath when you finally leave the building. Feeling like a fool for coming here to watch Lois celebrate another milestone in her career.

Before you can go back and apologize to her for leaving without saying goodbye, you hurriedly cross the street.

One moment you want to reach the other side, and the next a car speeds toward you. You gasp, and close your eyes, waiting for the impact.

You don’t feel the car hit you, and you don’t end up dead on the street. You’re suddenly high up in the air, clutching Superman’s suit.

“You should be more careful.”

“I-“ you look up at the superhero you heard so much about. Rumors said that he was dating Lois Lane not so long ago too. At least you read an article telling you so. “Clark?” You furrow your brows as the same soft eyes you saw not moments ago look back at you. “How…?”

“What? I—” He seems to be confused. You’re the first person to uncover his secret. “Y/N, you can’t just run over the street. That’s dangerous.”

“Okay,” you hastily say. I mean, you are floating above a building, your life in a stranger’s hands, and you won't argue with him. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“You can worry me any time,” he wraps one arm around you to bring you closer to his chest. “How about I bring you home?”

“Does…uh…Lois know about your secret identity?” You can’t stop yourself from babbling.

“No,” he whispers lowly. “I guess she wouldn’t have left Clark Kent if she knew I got a secret,” Clark smirks when you look at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“You won’t drop me, right? I swear I won’t tell anyone about your secret.” You claw at him. “No one would listen to me anyway.”

“Do you honestly believe I’d drop you?” He quirks a brow.

“No…I mean…you’re a hero…right?” You pout. “I didn’t want to find out. It’s just…your eyes give you away.”

“I should wear sunglasses from now on,” he laughs while floating toward the next building to land on the rooftop. “If you promise to not tell anyone about my secret, I believe you. And I won’t drop you, sweetness.”

“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully. “Did you date Lois as Superman too?”

He laughs now. “No. She didn’t know we were the same person. Lois broke up with me for Superman and the stories she wanted to write about him.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” you pat his chest, admiring its firmness. “I’m sorry this happened to you. Sometimes she’s just…” You trail off while patting his chest. “You know…”

“Let me bring you home,” Clark stops you from defending your friend. “Please.”

“Can we…uh…walk?”

“I’m already in my suit and got no clothes to change back into Clark,” he lies. Clark could easily change back into his alter ego, but he’d love to fly you home.

“Does this mean you want to fly?” You suck in a breath. “Do you have a seat belt or something?”

“I’ll bring you home safely, Y/N.” You end up back in his arms. This time you sling your arms around him and hold tight onto Clark for dear life. You close your eyes and hide your face in his chest.

You squeak when he pushes off the building. “Now that you know about my secret, do you want to fly with me again someday?”

“Uh-“ you blink your eyes open but still claw at him. “If you bring me home safely, we can do this again.”

“It’s a date then,” he smiles and flies into the night, making a detour to hold you a little longer…

Part 2: Not alone any longer

Tags in reblog.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x fem!reader #shy reader #clark kent #clark kent x you #clark kent x female reader #Alone again - Naturally

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baronessvonglitter · 9 months ago

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Halftime Show

Joel Miller, Javier Pena, Dave York, Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno x f!sexworker!reader (lucky girl)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: you're an escort hired for a private Super Bowl party hosted by a mysterious client and his four friends

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, reader's work name is "Angel", reader is a sex worker, mildly dubious consent (though she does state that the men can do as they want, it's her first experience in sex work), rough sex (but no violence done to reader), group sex, threesome to sixsome, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, double p in v, anal sex & fingering, multiple penetration, hand jobs, face fucking, facial, verbal abuse/humiliation, squirting, swallowing, creampie, spitroasting, reader gets slapped w/a dick for a bit, porn without plot, you know.. all the sweet stuff.

Author's Note: another cross-post from AO3 but honestly, football is barely mentioned so if you want you can ignore the whole Super Bowl aspect. Y'all might know by now I love a little romance in my smut but this particular fic has zero romance. Reader is there to do a job and leaves having done it very well. Also.. I'm considering creating a part 2 featuring more Pedro Boys, so any input on that is welcome!

FULL MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

DAVE YORK MASTERLIST | JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST

It's your first day as an escort and you're a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. You never know what you're going to expect from clients, but these guys you're about to meet have been pre-screened and even had to turn in blood tests just to be considered as clients. The escort service you work for is very prestigious. You're even driven to the location by a security detail who is tasked to wait outside for you. This makes you feel a little better.

You take a quick look at your outfit before you leave the car. The rule is you show up in character and leave in character. No real names, no background stories, just a persona and an exchange of goods. Simple as that. Should be easy enough.

Taking a deep breath, you exit the car and go up to the front door.

The doorbell rings, and Dave York springs from the sofa, a little smirk on his lips. "Guys, I think she's here," he announces, and the rest of the group look up from the Super Bowl game, groaning when Dave mutes the sound even though it's just gone to commercial.

"Who?" Frankie Morales asks, swigging a beer.

"The halftime entertainment," Dave answers mysteriously.

Marcus Moreno and Joel Miller trade inquisitive glances. Javier Peña raises his brow. He knows what Dave means.

Dave brings you into the living room and you take a quick survey of your surroundings: the home is nicer than most, two stories, decorated tastefully but with an obvious woman's touch. You give him a once-over. He's forty-ish, handsome, clean-shaven.

"The wife got the house in the divorce," Dave tells you, as if reading your mind. "This is my last weekend here, so let's make it count!" He raises his glass of whiskey to the guys, most of whom also salute with their drinks. They are all eyeing you like a pack of dogs that haven't eaten in days.

Marcus, a kind-looking man with dark eyeglasses who gives you Clark Kent vibes, smiles awkwardly at you, blushing. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asks Dave politely.

"Angel," you give your working name, smiling at each of the men. They're all cute: some scruffy, some dapper.

Dave smirks. "I'm Dave, and these are my buddies Marcus, Frankie, Joel, and Javier." Each of the guys smiles or nods at you as they're introduced.

"I heard you guys are looking to get wild," you say, opening your winter coat to reveal your see-through lingerie. Joel, Javier, and Dave whoop in excitement. Marcus and Frankie are more reticent but can't take their eyes off you. "What do you plan on doing with little ol' me?" you ask innocently, kneeling on the cushioned ottoman in the middle of the living room. You glide your hands over your body and smile as the men shift in their seats, watching you, getting hard already at the idea of you offering yourself.

Dave is the first to put his hands on you, first on your hips then grabbing your ass. Joel, an older man with graying hair and green flannel shirt, interrupts him, rising from his seat. "Now, who told you you get to go first?" he asks in a deep voiced Texan accent.

"First? We're running a train on this girl?" Javier asks from his seat, a cigarette burning between his lips. He's dressed like someone from the 1970s but his clothes fit him well, accentuating a lean physique.

"You can do whatever you want with me," you tell them with confidence. "But of course, no hitting, no biting, no leaving marks." You are resolute on this, as is your employer.

"Hell, darlin', we're not monsters," Joel says, his eyes full of concern for you. The others chime in that they aren't into really rough stuff. Only Dave looks a little disappointed by your rule.

"I'd expect you to be more methodical about this," Javier tells Dave, rising from his seat and casting an amused glance at his friend. He eyes you up and down then reaches into your bra to cup your breast while his other hand dives between your thighs. "Christ, she's already wet. And so fucking tight. You haven't been doing this kind of work long, have you, baby?"

"You all are my first clients," you admit, your breath hitching as his thick fingers tease you.

Javier manages a small smile then looks over at the group. "You haven't thought about these guys," he tells Dave, and nods at Frankie and Marcus. "They're completely baffled by this."

"We're not, I know exactly what's going on," insists Frankie, an adorable middle-aged guy wearing a t-shirt, cargo pants and baseball cap. His innocence is palpable and quite touching.

Dave and Javier's hands are still on you, grabbing and groping. It's a good start. "I'm paying for her. I should get to go first," Dave complains.

A few of the guys (well, okay, Javier and Dave) start to bicker about it, fueled by testosterone and alcohol. Joel strides up to you, effectively taking you away from Dave and Javier. "It's kind of a shame that no one's puttin' her feelings into consideration. She's gonna be providin' a huge service for us. Least we can do is give her a little pleasure beforehand." With that, he takes you and places you on the ottoman, kneeling between your open thighs. He rips open the crotch of your lingerie and dives in, sucking on your pussy. Your initial shock gives way to thrill as you register the warm, wet stiffness of his tongue rasping your folds, your clit, not taking his time about it. Your fingers curl into his hair as you lift your thighs back. You're still on the clock, still giving a show, even if this part is currently for your benefit. With Joel's aid you manage to take the now-ruined lingerie off and are naked but for your knee-high stockings.

"Way to get the party started," Javier says approvingly. "I'm not about to waste any time." He goes to you and sits you up. You take a moment to admire the bulge in those tight trousers before he pulls them down enough to take out his thick shaft. You obediently open your mouth to accept it and he slowly moves into your throat, allowing you to get used to him. Saliva pools in your mouth as you start to moan around his dick, still exhilarated by Joel's ravishing you with his tongue. You feel a hand massaging your breast and look over to see Frankie, his puppy dog eyes wide with wonder, as if he can't believe you're real.

"That feels so good," you tell him, sensing he likes praise. He lights up, encouraged by you, and continues to pinch and pull at your nipple before sucking on it, extracting a pleasured moan from your lips before you go back to sucking off Javier.

Marcus and Dave stand back. Marcus looks flustered and Dave has his hands on his hips, making a face. He's figuring out where to squeeze in but at the same time doesn't want to share.

Meanwhile you're keeping busy with Javier's cock in your mouth, Frankie's mouth on your breast, and Joel still lapping at you between your thighs. The most exquisite feelings comes over you and your scream is muffled as you come so hard, your body spasming while surrounded by these men. It's the most sensually charged moment of your entire life.

Joel lifts himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's wetter'n a cucumber in a convent," he chuckles, standing and trying to get the feeling back in his knees. Frankie then moves down to finger you just as Javier is on the verge of coming. Just as he gives a strangled growl, spilling his cum into your willing throat, you feel one of Frankie's fingers in your ass. You gasp and clench around him as Dave takes Javier's place. Your body is buzzing with energy, with lust.

"You're gonna earn every penny," Dave growls, thrusting into your mouth as if he hates you. You don't have a gag reflex but you pretend to choke on him, bringing tears to your eyes.

Frankie starts to undo his pants then quickly steps away. "I'm, uh, not ready yet."

"Let her take care of it," Javier says, lighting up another cigarette.

"No smoking in here," Dave warns, his eyes still on the mascara running down your face.

"Fuck you."

You start stroking Frankie, smiling at the plumpness of his cock, uncut. He's gazing down at you with tenderness in his eyes.

"Marcus, you joinin' us?" Joel asks, getting ready to pull down his jeans.

Marcus watches from the adjoining kitchen, his beer growing warm in his hand. "Maybe.. in a bit." He smiles nervously.

Joel shrugs and unzips himself, releasing his thick, veiny cock. It's all you can do not to stare at it in wonder.

"Hey, I was gonna go first," Dave says aggressively.

"You snooze you lose. Aren't we all gonna get a turn?" Joel smirks before aligning himself to your opening. "Such a tiny, perfect little pussy.. you're gonna be completely wrecked when we're done with you, babygirl..."

Your eyes widen when he begins to slide into you, but you're already slick enough to take him. You remove Dave from your mouth so you can watch Joel's cock disappear inch by inch into your cunt.

"Don't forget about me," Dave warns you, tapping his dick against the side of your face. You compliantly return to sucking him off and he grunts contentedly in response. At the same time Joel pushes in to the hilt. "Hell she's taking every inch of me," he groans. "What a good little slut she is.."

"Well shit, don't stretch her out before the rest of us," Dave complains.

"That's not a particular worry of mine," Javier smirks, getting himself ready again as he goes to your free hand, opposite Frankie, who is already hard and ready. Joel is building up a nice tempo, sliding deep inside your pussy, Dave thrusts avidly into your mouth, Frankie and Joel are watching you as you zealously prime them for whatever they want to do next.

"Oh my god!" Frankie's eyes go wide and without warning he comes on your stomach and you make a sound of surprise when you feel the warm stickiness of him on your skin. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," you tell him with a smile. "Think you've got another one in you?" you wink and scoop his cum into your mouth as Frankie watches in wonder.

Dave seems upset that you keep removing him from your mouth to talk to Frankie, but Frankie looks so happy that you're not grossed out or upset. Dave grabs hold of the back of your head and rams himself in your throat. "Less talking, bitch," he growls.

You would give him a death glare but then you feel Joel speeding up, his thrusts strong, the loud slapping of your flesh fills the air. Before you know it you're throbbing around him, milking him as you feel him finish inside you. He doesn't stay long, and soon Javier takes his place. "Flip over, cariño," he says, moving you on all fours. Dave takes over from the front, Frankie strokes himself while fondling your tit. Javier grabs your ass and slides in, letting you feel every inch of him as you moan around Dave's cock. He cums soon, spraying the back of your throat with his thick white cum.

"Get in there, Frankie!" Javier encourages, pumping away none too gently as he watches your ass ripple with each thrust. "Marcus get over here and do something or you'll miss out!"

Marcus seems frozen to his spot but Frankie follows orders and you open wide to receive him. He looks down at you like you're some kind of miracle, and you make sure to look at him the same way, charmed by his good nature.

Javier leans close to you. "I'm gonna put it in your ass, cariño."

"Do whatever you want," you purr.

He pulls out of you and you feel a warm glob of saliva at your rear entrance. Javier smears it around your puckered hole and eases himself in. You gasp, fists clenching the edge of the ottoman. "Fill all her holes, boys," Dave says, watching from the side. "That's what she's here for."

Frankie pulls away from your mouth. "Let me get under you." he says, and Javier pulls out enough for you two to get positioned. Frankie aligns himself at your entrance and sinks in easily. "Jesus, you feel so good, Angel.." He thrusts up into you as Javier continues to fuck your ass. The three of you are a fusion of lust and frenzy. Joel watches, running his tongue over his lips, still tasting your sweet essence. Dave tells everyone he's next to claim your ass. Marcus has since inched closer, undeciding yet if he's going to join, or how. He's obviously hard, his eyes dark with craving.

"Marcus," you mumble as he approaches your side. "Fuck my mouth," you beg.

He suppresses a gasp but he unbuckles his belt. "I haven't.. in a while.."

"That's okay.." you smile at him, helping him pull down his pants and briefs, running your nails over his solid girth, and he immediately rises to the occasion. "You were shy before, but not now," you notice, and give his cock a couple of gentle tugs before taking him into your waiting mouth, just the tip, and letting him go in as deep as he wants.

Javier speeds up, fingers digging into your hips as all your cries fill the room. He comes, filling your ass as he grunts savagely, causing you in turn to come, clenching around Frankie who buries himself deep inside as he lets go. Once Javier pulls away Dave takes over, gripping your hips and moving you against him.

You finger your lonely pussy, unable to make yourself feel as good as any of these men have. “Oh god, I want all of you at once.. please!” You beg.

Marcus approaches you and lays beneath you as Dave moves away, scoots up so he’s practically standing over you. Joel claims your mouth and Javier lets you pump him with your fist. Frankie approaches from behind and at the same time Marcus enters you from beneath. Two men fuck your cunt, stretching you, ruining you, and all you can do is give them what they want and then ask for more.. one man in your mouth, in your hand, in your ass.. you are working for every penny just as Dave said.

You're practically dazed by the countless feelings of pleasure coming from every man inside you, the way they move, the way they taste, how their hands grope your ass or your breasts, your hips.. you're just a receptacle for them, a plaything. This allows your brain to soak everything in without having to think. Just feeling. None of them really care about your pleasure, not at this point. You're just a means to an end, and you like it. You've never felt more alive.

"God!" you gasp as you feel yet another wave of absolute euphoria threaten to take you under. You don't even bother to hold back. As soon as you come you feel them all come with you, like tiny explosions set off in a chain. You gulp down Joel's spunk as Dave spills himself inside your ass, and Marcus and Frankie throb then release, one only seconds after the other. Javier takes control of himself from you and spurts his cum onto your face. For the first time ever in your life, you squirt, gasping at the relief and suddenness of it. The six of you try hard to catch your breath, all of you taking in the moments of this night.

"I don't think I'll be able to cum for weeks," Joel says, chuckling as he pulls up his pants.

Showered and dressed, you leave in a skimpy outfit that covers more than the lingerie did, as Dave uses the escort agency's app to send you a very generous tip from himself and the rest of the guys. The guys, cleaned up and all in relaxed moods, watch the game, not even upset that they missed most of the second half. You take your money and leave, blowing a kiss to the guys.

"God damn, you hired a good one," Javier mutters to Dave.

"Let's make this an annual thing," Dave smirks. "Next one's on you, Peña."

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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