Bisexual Babe&Co

He knew he shouldn’t have done that stupid job. Ollie insisted on it, of course. The idiot swore to him that if he only broke into the lab and got the hostage scientists out, the League would round up the rest. He promised that there wasn’t anything Clark had to be careful about, no dangerous substances or valuable equipment. Even when he pressed on what they were making in that lab, Ollie had dismissed him with a smirk and said, Just do the job, Big Blue, and save the day, okay? And now he knew he should have never listened. God, Ollie could be such a prick sometimes, always keeping something from him. 

It had to be then. When he flew through the glass wall and shattered it. He remembered scooping up the hostages and shielding them behind his body to absorb the bullets raining from the kidnappers; they were in the rafters of the lab. He managed to grab one who hopped down and flung him across a table, and a few vials shattered. Clark watched for a split second as a pink powder plumed into the air, and suddenly the scientists were screaming and running for their lives through the glass. Clark didn’t waste another moment, he simply blew a big puff of air to knock the remaining attackers down around the top of the room, and he swept away, leaving the scene for Ollie’s guys to comb. 

He should’ve known when everyone started running that he’d released something in the air. Only scientists would be afraid of something inside a vial. And now he was suffering the side effects of it. Very, very loudly.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything,” the cashier flushed. “Just… waiting for her order.” 

As you stood beside him, arm looped through his and studying the menu at the coffee cart, Clark felt his neck burning. The girl behind the station was not hiding her curious eyes well, and he could’ve just sworn he heard a string of words come out of her mouth that were entirely inappropriate. They rang in his ears clear as day: “God, what a lucky bitch. I can’t believe she gets to fuck this guy, he looks huge.” 

The girl’s mouth didn’t move. He was staring right at her. Yet, he heard the words. There was no doubt someone said them. Clark did a quick scan of the street, but they were the only people on line. The voice was close, so it had to be her. You wouldn’t have reason to say something like that. He scratched the nape of his neck in confusion. 

After a minute of hard decision, you smiled at the cart girl and asked, “Could I get that horchata cold brew? That sounds so good!”

“Absolutely,” she nodded curtly, giving Clark an unusual glance before turning the card reader over for him to swipe. “I’ll get that started for you.”

As the girl shifted to make their drinks, he leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Did you hear what she said?”

“What do you mean?”

“Before you ordered. She said something really, like, vulgar,” Clark winced. 

You chuckled softly, furrowing your brow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you sure? She seems sweet.”

“She does,” Clark pulled away, chewing the inside of his cheek. “It’s probably nothing.”

When the cart girl handed over his black coffee and your sugary concoction, he gave her a restrained grin. When you tugged his hand back in the direction of the Daily Planet, though, he heard the same voice again, almost as if it was against his neck: “Man, he is just unreal. She better take advantage of all that.”

Clark’s entire body tensed with shock. There was definitely, definitely something in that powder. His hips ached.

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

The next one was even worse, because it was Cat who had the next word. Cat Grant, who was equally impaired by the stick up her ass as she was willing to flirt with every man in her eyeline, was leaning over your desk and checking a story edit. When Clark came by to offer you a refill on your water, she smiled up at him.

“So attentive,” she teased. “I never thought I’d see the day Clark Kent stopped fumbling files and started dating coworkers."

“Hello to you, too, Cat.”

You kissed his wrist as he patted your cheek and handed him your bottle. “I’d like that, actually. Thanks, Clarkie.”

Clark felt mushy for a moment at the name, and as he moved to step toward the water cooler, he heard Cat say, “Clarkie? God, that’s lame. I’d be calling him Daddy or something, at least.”

Clark whirled around quickly and sputtered at the blonde. “What did you just say?”

Both yours and Cat’s heads flicked up, wide eyes peering at him like a couple of spooked meerkats. Cat frowned. “What?”

“What you just said,” he pointed at her accusingly. “That– you can’t say stuff like that! We’re at work!”

Cat snickered and quirked an eyebrow. “I think you need to get your ears checked. I didn’t say anything, Kent."

He huffed in exasperation at you, but you were no help. You seemed completely confused by his behavior. Confused and so cute, all tucked into your dress and waiting for your stupid water refill. Clark grumbled, “Forget it,” and walked away. 

As he stood idly at the water station and watched the bottle fill, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering towards what other names you might call him if prompted. His tongue felt too big for his mouth.

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

It only got more ridiculous as the day dragged on. Almost everybody at work had something entirely insane to say about you and him together– or rather, think. None of them were speaking at all, he discovered. He was hearing their thoughts. That was the only explanation. That powder gave him the ability to read people’s minds, and he was horrified. People were so much more perverted than he imagined. 

When you stopped for groceries on the way home to work, the cashier– some teenage boy with a nice zit right on his nose– thought, “Man, I bet he puts her through the mattress.”

The girl who lived two apartments over was getting her mail out of the lockboxes in the lobby when they came through the front door. After a brief and courteous hello from you both, she thought, “I wonder what position they do it in most… he seems like a doggy guy.”

And then again, when they were walking up the stairs, she followed them up, and Clark heard, “I’d do anything to see them fuck. It’s probably so hot.”

By the time Clark got into the apartment, he was sweating and embarrassingly hard. He’d been fighting it off all day, but after hearing so many ideas and seeing so many mental images of you and him doing nefarious deeds, he couldn’t keep up. He was still half-human, after all, and desperately in love with you, and not to mention incredibly weak. Only so many people can be indirectly told how fuckable their girlfriend is before they collapse under the weight. 

He got to work putting the groceries away, hands eager and somewhat trembling as he ushered you out of the kitchen. You smiled suspiciously, hanging your coat by the door, and you leaned in the archway. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“What do you mean?” he muttered shortly, stocking the fridge. He hadn’t even taken his coat off. It was… disguising him. 

You studied his jerky movements in the low light. Clark never acted like this, so clumsy and jumpy. He could be awkward here and there, but he’d left behind the bumbling act a while ago. Something had to be bothering him, you were sure of it. You crossed your arms. “You’ve been acting off all day. Accusing people of saying things they never said, blushing, stammering… what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he lied, pushing a few cereal boxes into the cabinet over the counter. “I’m fine.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I’m not hiding anything, really! I mean it!”

Clark knew it wouldn’t be long before you found out. He was an awful faker. He stared at you, shifting his weight between his feet, fussing with the buttons on his jacket. He could feel your smirk burning into him like a brand. 

You thought to yourself, You don’t want to tell me? Fine. I guess I’ll shower alone then. “Okay. Just don’t forget to put the eggs on the top shelf. I’m gonna go wash up.”

Clark nearly whimpered at your conflicting tones. You wouldn’t press him, you never did, but now he knew that you were sassing him behind those eyes, thinking of punishments, judging his actions. The erection in his pants was painful enough to make him see stars. He shoved the eggs in the fridge carelessly before following you. You didn’t make it halfway down the hall before he was grabbing you up and pressing a hungry kiss to your lips. 

“Mmf!” You squeaked, startled by his sudden ferocity. “Clark– hey!”

“I breathed something in,” he panted, hands tugging at your blouse, slightly tearing the seams. 

“What?” You wriggled, trying to stop him from ripping the shirt clean off. His pupils were so large you couldn’t even see the blue in his eyes, and his cheeks were so dark they could’ve been purple. “Clark, easy!”

Clark whined pathetically and buried his face in your neck, licking at the skin. Something terrible was overcoming him. All those thoughts, all the time spent alone inside his head today with you, it was making him insane. He worried that the powder was influencing his hormones. He didn’t want to hurt you. And then again, he was worked up after eight incredibly jarring hours. Maybe any man would lose his mind. 

“The other night," he groaned, tasting the salt of your skin and nearly blacking out. “That lab rescue– mm– with Ollie. Breathed something in, some powder… can hear people’s thoughts.”

It was hard to listen when he latched onto the weak spot behind your ear, but your concern still radiated. “Wait, you what? Why didn’t you say anything?” Fucking idiot, you thought. 

“Don’t call me an idiot,” Clark smiled against your neck. 

Your heart dropped like it weighed a ton. “You heard that?”

“Mhm.”

“...Woah,”

“Yeah, woah,” Clark laughed, but then he scooped you up by the thighs. The throbbing of his cock against your leg was quite apparent now, and your lashes fluttered through an onset of desire. “All day, been hearing things… people think about us…”

As he barged into the bedroom and tossed you down, you yelped and erupted in laughter. Clark crawled over you as you inquired, “Like what?”

“People are disgusting,” he offered, yanking your body free of that shirt-and-pants prison. You frowned as he tore the clothes, but he’d buy you more, he always did. “They see us together and think about what we do. When we’re alone.”

You gasped as he reattached himself, teeth sinking into the meat of your chest. Your fingers sunk into his hair. “Like about us sleeping together?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, helping you unbutton his shirt. “Perverts.”

“I think you’re the pervert,” you grinned, dragging him up to get another look at that wild face. “You listened.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t be so horny if it bothered you,” you squinted playfully. “You liked it. What did they say?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Clark laughed incredulously.

“Why not? Come on!”

“Because it’s– it’s wrong! You shouldn’t hear what people think about you! Besides, what they– you’re– no,” he stuttered, flushing darker than should be possible, even for a Kryptonian.

Your smile widened. “They must have thought some dirty things about me if you’re so embarrassed."

Clark hid in your shoulder, grinding helplessly against your thigh. 

“About you?”

Clark’s hips stuttered.

“Oh, baby,” you giggled, “you are so hopeless.”

Clark studied the stars behind his eyelids as he rutted against your leg, whimpering like a dog. “I just really need you… I think I might explode, I don’t know if this is a side effect or what, but just– please.”

You scratched at the base of his neck and tilted your head. Then, because you were cruel and decided he deserved it for being so withholding, you thought very clearly: Show me what they thought. Fuck me like they imagined. 

Clark’s head shot up, and you cackled at the pretty expression of surprise. It was all fun and games until he tossed you onto your stomach. 

“Woah– oof!”

jk this was an AU. Here’s the real letter💜💜