This is Kaliās fault. @killakalx
Minors Dni- includes. Slight dirty talk? But? Loving?, marking, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, cumming inside, kind of sappy pillow talk, dom!Clark, fem!reader
Clark Kent is strong enough to pick you up and use you like a fleshlight. He doesnāt, usually, because thatās mean and he doesnāt want to accidentally hurt you or anything.
But there are rare occasions, when heās had enough of being Superman, when heās had enough of being Clark Kent, where he lets himself tap into those desires to justā¦ use you.
Heās got you pinned to the wall of his apartment, feet not even scraping the floor, his tongue so deep in your mouth you swear heās trying to make you choke on it. (Doesnāt help that his is a little bit longer than a normal personās, and his sharp little fangs donāt help much either.) Heās holding you up by your waist, his grip bruising, and when he pulls back heās out of breath.
āI need you,ā he whispers, and itās the last semblance of a boyfriend whoās gentle or careful with you that youāre going to get for a few hours. His glasses are askew, his hair is ruffled, his shirt has already been halfway unbuttoned thanks to your wandering hands. āPlease.ā
When you say āokayā, heās on you faster than heās ever been on anything in his life. Ripping your shirt down the middle- your bra, too- heās setting you down on unsteady feet before basically attacking your chest, biting and sucking his way down your body, coming to where the hem of your pants hugs your waist before he stops. He looks up at you, blue eyes nearly eclipsed by his pupil, blown wide with arousal.
They flash gold when they catch the light.
Clark looks like a proper predator, and suddenly you understand why villains get all prickly when theyāre dealing with Superman. Heās scary. Your sweet, loving boyfriend, who has never once even raised his voice at you, is downright terrifying.
āI can smell you,ā he chokes out, and his voice is dark. Your pants are gone before you can even register his movements, and your underwear are also the unfortunate victims of his super strength. āCan hear your heart beating,ā he breathes, a little laugh escaping him as he presses his mouth against the soft skin of your stomach. āYour blood, I canā¦ fuckā¦ā
Aaaaand youāre suddenly on the couch, Clark is between your legs, and heās eating you out like heās never had a meal before in his life. Usually heās careful, controlled, wants to make you feel good before anything else. But right now, heās just hungry, and heās getting more enjoyment out of your desperate attempts to squirm away from him and the noises youāre making more than anything else. He makes you cum three times while he mutters about how youāre āsuch a good girlā, and then heās cradling your face in his hands, cooing at you while you come back down to earth.
āYou prepped? Yāready to take my dick, sweet girl?ā
(His southern accent is thick; he looks and sounds drunk on you, chin covered in your slick, big blue eyes meeting yours.)
He doesnāt let you answer, mostly because he knows you canāt. And he knows his dick is huge- he goes slow, usually, but tonight he just needs to feel you cum on his cock otherwise heāll go insane, heāll go crazy.
Clark feels properly awful about how youāre already squirming and whining when he presses his tip at your entrance. He wants to do something, but then the tip slips in, and heās gone.
He pushes in the rest of the way with a wet shlck, curling his body over yours so he can see the way your pussy looks speared on his cock. āFuck.ā He rumbles. āLook at you, taking me so deep. God, itās like youāre made for it, made for meā¦ā
He thrusts into you, keeping his forearm above your head to brace himself- when your hands curl around his bicep and squeeze all desperate, he blacks out for a second. When he wakes up again, youāre squealing, and heās rubbing circles against your clit with his free hand, and you have some bite marks that are stark against your skin.
āCum for me.ā He begs, and his voice doesnāt even sound like his own. āCum for me right now, I know yācan do it, I want you tādo it, youāve been so good fāme, so fucking good, the best, taking me so deep and hard like itās what you were made for- please give it tāme, darlin, please.ā
When you sob all high and pretty and spasm on his dick, he feels like heās seeing stars. Actually, itās better than stars, because heās just looking at you, at the tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, at the red marks you leave when you dig your nails into his skin. Clark sees everything.
And then he cums, pushing deep inside, a choked gasp of your name dropping from his lips. He screws his eyes shut, his nose wrinkling in that cute way it does when heās thinking. He moans low and just for you.
ā¦ when he comes back to his senses, youāre softly squirming under his weight, grumbling about how heavy he is. He pulls back- and out- watching with amazement as a bit of cum starts to trickle out. He barely resists the urge to follow it with his tongue, because he thinks youād kill him.
āMy sweet girl.ā He croons instead, pressing soft kisses to your face. āSo good, so pretty. Took me so amazingly.ā
āYou almost killed me,ā you complain, pouting at him. āWomen on this planet are not built to handle seven orgasms, Clark.ā
He tilts his head. āI only remember four.ā He says, raising an eyebrow. āā¦ but I can make it seven, if you want. Really test the limits of the human body, yāknow-ā
You hit him in the side of the head with a throw pillow. He relents.
