ᯓ★ ℳℴ𝓏ℯ

It was subtle at first. Stealing glances at his groin here and there, taking any chance you had to make any sort of physical contact with him; a simple brush of your fingertips along his arm, innocently guiding his hand higher on your thigh, or whatever it may be. But recently, it seemed as if he was just getting more and more oblivious with every second that passed, and you had to up your game.

When you first met Clark, you would've never anticipated him being a virgin. That hunk of a man had never had sex before? No way. It was too easy to assume that any woman who laid her eyes on him would throw herself onto him any chance she got.

After getting to know him, you found that he's definitely had chances before. After getting to know Superman a bit more, you found the real reason as to why he never took those chances. It all makes sense after putting two and two together. But after eight long and painful months of not getting laid, and giving him all the space he needed, it was only a matter of time before you were the one throwing yourself at him any chance you got.

It was subtle at first. Stealing glances at his groin here and there, taking any chance you had to make any sort of physical contact with him, or whatever it may be. But recently, it seemed as if he was just getting more and more oblivious with every second that passed, and you had to up your game.

You'd be on top of him on the couch, in the middle of a sloppy make-out, his hands roaming the curves of your body. Instead of letting him slip his fingers into his favourite panties—the ones with the symbol he wears on his suit, along with a little white bow—you kept his hand on your waist as you began to grind your hips against his.

You were sure it was working, that he'd finally give in and fuck you like you've been so desperate for these past few months. But just as you started to speed up, gripping his biceps and moaning into his mouth at the feeling of his blatantly hard cock rubbing against your clothed clit, he tightens his grip on your hips, slowing you down, eventually to a complete stop, to which you whine at the loss of friction.

"C'mon, honey, what is this?" he sighed, looking up at you through his strangely luscious lashes, slipping his large hands under your shirt and rubbing soothing circles against your skin.

"Clark! Why'd you stop?" he cuts you off before you can say anymore, lifting you off his lap and seating you beside him on the sofa. "Answer me. What's going on, huh? What's gotten into you?"

"I don't know, you tell me," you retort, bringing your knees up to your chest and crossing your arms over them. "Why don't you tell me what you think's gotten into me?"

"Baby, I- I don't think I know how to answer that," he turns to face you now, resting a calloused, yet gentle hand on your knee,, urging you to move closer to him, but you stay in your place. "You have to be straight with me, hon. I wish I could read your mind, but I can't.. Haven't learned that one yet.."

"Well, I don't know.. maybe it's a question of what hasn't gotten into me" you muttered, your quiet voice laced with a hint of sarcasm that Clark wasn't exactly accustomed to. He stares at you, puzzled, with an eyebrow perked up.

"Clark, come on, it's been almost 9 months we've been together, and you still haven't fucked me, even with all the- the touching, everything," you continue after realising his utter confusion, or was it just ignorance? "What's the deal?"

"We've been over this, you know exactly what the—"

"Don't give me that. I mean what's the deal with me?" You pressed, straightening out to sit on your knees in front of him. "You don't trust me or something, is that it?"

"No! No, of course that's not it, you know that!" he insists, now getting up from the couch to pace around the living room's coffee table. "Do I know that?"

"Yes!"

"Then what?" a beat. "Can you not just talk to me? 'Cause I'm sure that would just make it a hell of a lot easier for the both of us, Clark."

A moment of silence settles between the two of you. He slows his pacing before returning to his seat beside you, his elbows balanced on his knees and his head in his palms.

"I just don't want to hurt you," you take a breath, about to respond, but he opens his mouth to continue before the words can leave your mouth. "I know- I know, it's corny. But that's the real real reason, okay? I just- Superman, and- my strength, and I, like- I could literally break your bones if I go too hard.. not even exaggerating..." he rambles on.

You are taken aback by his response. It wasn't the first time you were hearing about him being superman and all, but you never would've guessed that that's how he perceived these situations. It wasn't even an idea you had considered. But now that it's put that way, right in front of your eyes, you assumed he had that sort of thing under control, but.. heat of the moment, or whatever.

"Is that tr—"

"Yes," he interrupts. "It's the truth. The real life truth, okay? I promise." His eyes are filled with nothing but pure honesty now. No reluctance, not like before. Maybe it was the fact that you thought he didn't trust you that got to him, got him to say the 'real life truth'.

"Clark, I just- I want it, please- I need it, okay? I—"

"No. It's not happening, sweetheart, I'm sorry" he cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence, his hands gesturing in front of him. He gives you a sincere, apologetic glance.

"Then let me ride you! Then you don't have to do anything, all me," you propose, settling on your knees again and placing your hands on his shoulders, practically pouncing onto him. He brings his hands back to caress your sides. "Baby—"

"It makes sense, doesn't it? We can just try," You continue on. "Please, Clark, please.. I need it- need you, need to feel good.." you can feel a wet spot forming in your Superman panties just at the thought of his cock inside you, but that was nothing new. He swings each of your legs on either side of his lap with ease, and glances up at you.

"...I don't want you to get hurt." He repeats. "I won't, I promise! I'll tell you if it hurts- Clark, just please let me ride you.." you urge, rubbing both your hands sensually against his broad shoulders, bringing one down to his meaty bicep and the other to his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his dress shirt that he's yet to change out of from his day job.

"...Fine," he finally accepts. Before you can get too excited, he continues, "but don't make me regret this.."

"I won't! I won't, I promise!" You're quick to undo the buttons of his top, as well as slip your tank top over your head. You toss both your shirts into a secluded corner in the room to be forgotten about. His hand snakes to the back of your head to smash your kips against his, as his other hand reaches for the clasp of your bra, which just so happened to match your panties.

It's not long before you're both completely bare, and there's nothing left but pure skin to skin contact, and that on its own was a rare occasion.

"You sure you're ready?" Clark verified, for what felt like the 7th time that night. Before he can continue on, you reply, "yes, Clark! Stop. I'm sure. I've been waiting, like, forever for this."

"..Okay, but I want you to tell me if it hurts at all, and we'll stop." He presses further. You nod quickly. His hands are beneath your thighs, holding you up like a chair so you hover over him. You still balance yourself on his shoulder with one hand, though, and your other hand to reach down and line up his abnormally sizeable cock with your dripping hole. Not only could he hurt you with his strength, but it was no denying that he was just an excessively large man, overall, and that included his dick. It wasn't like anyone’s you've ever seen before.

You're gripping his muscular shoulders like a vice, your nails clawing into him when he lowers you down onto him. Already, he seems as if he could tap out from the mere feeling of your wetness grazing against his sensitive and already leaking tip.

He fists at the tender flesh of your ass, and he can't stop himself from letting his hands wander further, gripping every area humanly possible, and you're not even completely settled down yet. "G- Gosh, baby- mhmm-" he avoids your gaze at all costs, throwing his head back against the back of the sofa. His dishevelled brown locks fall away from his forehead. He's never felt anything like this before. Maybe (crazy idea) that's because he refused to let you have sex with him for months, but there's a first time for everything.

You let out loud moan that bounced off the walls of the room when you feel the bottom of your thighs meet his—the kind you'd hear in those corny, plainly staged porn videos that teenage boys watch unironically. He swore he was about to cum just from hearing your mesmerising voice, but he couldn't risk embarrassing himself, especially not on you guys' first time.

"O-Oh fuck, Clark— hnghh!" you let your head to fall against his shoulder and tucked your face into his neck, inhaling his scent. "'S so- fuckk! S-So big—!" Your mouth falls into an 'O' shape, your eyebrows are pinched upward and you can't help but glance down at the spot where his cock disappears inside you. His eyes follow your line of sight, and his gaze lands on the evident bulge poking out of your lower tummy. He swears that that has to be the hottest thing he's ever laid his eyes on and that he could just cum so deep inside you at the sight of it.

"Gosh, sweetheart," he mutters, glancing at your face with a look in his eyes that suggests you were the creator of all life itself, like you hung the stars with your bare hands, and he had to repay you somehow. He looked at and treated you like his very own goddess, which was no different than any other day. "Y'feel so good, ca- can't believe I never- o- oh golly- never let y'do this before, mph!"

His large hands come to rest against the curve of your bare hips, and he's internally begging you to move before he loses his control and takes it upon himself to do so.

"Baby, please.. 'm beggin' you, I needa feel more of you.."

And with that, you lift your head up once again, your nails still clawing against his back, even if it was a well known fact that his skin of steel could not be pierced. You took your time lifting yourself up until only his tip remained inside your warmth, then bringing yourself down again. He shuttered at the feeling and you could feel him twitch within you.

"Cl- Clark, oh my- fuck!" It had been a while since you had sex, and the stretch felt like you'd been split into two. Sure, you had your toys—the ones that you didn't tell Clark about because you didn't want him to feel guilty about the fact that you had to use those as a result of him not wanting to have sex. But it wasn't very long before he put two and two together. He could literally hear your lewd moans from across Metropolis.

But none of their sizes could compare to Clark's. You could practically feel all of him everywhere throughout your body, and you didn't think for one second that he was aware of the effect he had on you, on your body. Meanwhile, his poor brain was flying at three hundred thousand miles per hour, feeling every ridge of your walls dragging up and down against his aching length.

It took barely three minutes for your pace to slow once more. Of course, you didn't have the same stamina he did, not to mention his huge cock that rested inside you. While you never voiced your discomfort, he figured out that you wouldn't possibly be able to move for much longer. After much contemplation, he finally offers:

"Baby, let me—"

In one swift motion, he flips you over onto your knees, your ass pressing into his hips with his cock still inside you as you clutch the armrest of the sofa. He begins to drill into you and you bite the fabric of the couch, muffling your voice. "Hmphh!"

"Sweetheart, hah— so good to me, baby— you're s'good," he groans the praises into your ear as he leans over you, one of his muscular arms hooking under your torso so he can feel your glistening back against his bare chest. He brings the hand under to fondle your breast, taking the nipple and rolling it between his fingers. "Could jus' cum inside y'right now—"

"Clark! Hahh, right there, fuck!" You take one arm down to claw at his forearm, but he's too busy peppering kisses along your upper back and shoulders, and some of them will definitely be visible later tonight...

"Pleasepleaseplease— hnghh, don't stop! Needa cum!" Every one of his deep thrusts is accompanied by a squeal from you, and he only gets closer to release. He keeps his hand over your tummy where he can feel his own cock pressing against his hand every time he plunges into you.

Once again, he flips you over so you're on your back. You bat your lashes up at him as you grip his biceps like never before. "Wanna see your face when I cum inside ya, honey, gosh—"

"Clark, m'gonna cum!"

"Yeah baby, I gotch'ya, cum f'me."

"Ohh, fuckfuckfuck!" You whine, most likely at a volume high enough for your next door neighbours to hear you (and probably scold you for keeping them up all night the next morning). His thrusts get slower, yet sloppier as he lets himself come closer and closer to the edge, and closer to filling you up. He watches the bulge in your tummy slow down, and he finally loses himself inside of you when he puts his x-ray vision to good use to see the tip of his cock bruising your cervix, as well as his warm seed spilling inside of you.

He brings his hips to a stop, but doesn't pull out of you just yet, he just keeps his head on your heaving chest as you both pant audibly.

"Thought you didn't wanna fuck me" you retort, and his head moves up and down as you chuckle.

"Never thought you'd feel that amazing, honey.."

"So.. this wasn't just a one time thing.. right?" You inquire curiously.

"Absolutely not. If I ever deny this again, I want you to slap me real hard with Kryptonite in the room, understand me?"

"Sir yes sir."

YEARNER!CLARK who absolutely worships your body and the ground you walk on. he never forgets to make it known to you how ethereal you are in his eyes, inside and out, each and every day, even after 3 years of marriage. not only does he tell you, he shows you.

YEARNER!CLARK who doesn't just make love to your body, he makes love to you, and everything that makes you you; your flaws, insecurities, and your body. even just having him by your side in bed counterbalanced every negative quality you could possibly find in yourself.

YEARNER!CLARK who still looks at you like a starving man. Like you're sunlight and he's been freezing for far too long. He still stares at you from across a room like a teenager only just discovering what this thing called love feels like. A soft, reverent look that says he'd stop the world from spinning if you ever gave the signal.

YEARNER!CLARK who handles you as if you were just a delicate lily you'd find in one of Monet's paintings, as if you would break with one wrong graze of his fingertips on your body.

YEARNER!CLARK who refused to have sex with you for the longest time. he was too afraid, knowing the fact that he quite literally had the ability to break bones if he unintentionally thrusted too hard. but he couldn't hold himself back much longer when it came to your honeymoon. that night, the only thing he needed was to make sweet love to his wife. his wife.

YEARNER!CLARK who, the moment you even slightly mention an insecurity, makes sure to get that thought right out of that pretty head of yours. he'd lay you down onto your shared bed so cautiously and start peppering your entire body with kisses, muttering soft praises against your delicate skin; from your forehead, to your plump lips, to your perky nipples, to your belly button, all the way down to your ankles.

then for good measure, he'd bounce you up and down on his girthy cock until he's absolutely positive that your negative thoughts have been knocked out of your mind.

YEARNER!CLARK who, when you first met, only ever kissed your wedding ring finger (other than your lips) because he knew he just had to be yours, and that he had to marry you, no matter how long the wait was. now, he loves to see your wedding ring on your dainty finger whenever you wrapped your hand around his cock (which didn't even wrap all the way around). hell, he could cum at that sight alone. he sees that gem on your finger and can't help but take pride in the fact that you, of all people, were his real life wife.

YEARNER!CLARK who wants nothing more in life than to fill you up and take good care of you while seeing you grow his baby in your swelling tummy. the only thing better than one of you is two of you. when you finally agree to doing so, he'd give you his hot loads every night for a full month until he's 110% certain that you were nice and pregnant with his baby.

"Pl- Please, take all o' my cum, mommy- g'nna make you a momma, i promise- hnghh, fuck.." he'd mutter against your neck while he came deep inside you for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

MUNCH!IZUKU who never understood how amazing it could be to eat someone out until he started dating you. getting him to agree took a little work, but you had him absolutely addicted to you at the first swipe of his tongue over your sensitive clit and the first mesmerising moan to escape your throat. there was no denying that it only escalated from there on (not that you were complaining)

MUNCH!IZUKU who got nervous when asking for permission to go down on you at first, however he warmed up to the idea quicker than ever. it wasn't long before he started to eat you out religiously

MUNCH!IZUKU who ruts his hips into your shared mattress while settled between your thighs, wrapping his arms around your thighs tighter than ever. his lustful moans echoed throughout the room as if he was the one getting eaten out so deliciously. after drawing out at least three orgasms from you, he glances down to see the prominent wet spot in his own slacks

MUNCH!IZUKU who comes home after a long, burdensome day of teaching a bunch of unruly teenagers, feeling like the weight of the world was upon his shoulders, wanting nothing more but for you to settle down on his face for a good hour or so. to feel the comforting warmth of your plush thighs on either side of his head while you read the latest newspaper. but really, it's hard to focus on anything else but him.

MUNCH!IZUKU who has already gotten down on his knees just for you to let him taste you for the third time that day (a growing boy needs three meals a day, folks), even if he just got one lick. he begged and pleaded, until you finally allowed him to slip under the covers again. you didn't see him again until the next morning, partially because he fell asleep down there

MUNCH!IZUKU who'd call you in the middle of a work day for an "emergency". spoiler alert: it was in fact not an emergency, but he didn't tell you that. you knock on the door of his classroom, concerned with the fact that something might have happened for him to call you so suddenly. he locks the door behind you and is quick to lay you across his desk, fold up your skirt, slide your panties aside, and get straight to work

MUNCH!IZUKU who'd only get harder when you'd apologise for accidentally pulling on his hair too harshly, or clamping your thighs around his head too tightly. he doesn't even need to tell you to do it again. the pornographic moan that escaped his throat told you everything you needed to know

MUNCH!IZUKU who'd beg you to tag along to drinks with his colleagues, just to drag you to a bathroom stall, sit you on his shoulders facing him, and push you up against the wall just to get a quick taste. he'd then claim it was just to "recharge his social battery", knowing very well that he was going to take you both home far too early to finish the job (and probably end up doing it in the back seat of his car upon arriving before you could even get inside the house)