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“No.”

“What—?” Clark followed you into the kitchen, hands grasping at the air in desperation, “Honey, come on!”

You turned on your heel, face soured as you went through the motions of the conversation at hand that had lasted all of ten minutes before it shifted into the shallow end of a brewing argument.

The topic being: where to live.

Clark stood with his shoulders rounded and wore an incredulous look that—in your humble opinion—was a little dramatic given what he was asking you. You both stood in his Ma and Pa’s kitchen, both parents long retired to their beds when the housing topic arose at the dinner table.

It was time to combined two homes into one. And, neither of you felt like budging.

“I’m not moving into that…that thing.” You crossed your arms across your chest.

Clark’s brows raised into his hairline. “That thing? You mean to say, my home—your husband’s home?” When you threw your hands up in the air and moved past him to get into the living room and save yourself from being cornered, Clark followed hot on your heels. He then added, “Come on, honey. It makes sense. It’s safe, far enough away from…well, everything.”

“Yeah. That’s why it is called the Fortress of Solitude. Alone. Secluded.” You piled onto the description of the place, shivering at the memory of the last time you had visited. Mainly because it was freezing amongst other factors.

(Clark soon found out you might be one of the only humans on the planet that didn’t like the Fortress of Solitude.)

As the slander left your mouth, Clark pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “We can call it the Fortress of Unification. Two hearts unified. Together.”

“You can’t just change the name of something once it’s been named, Clark. Just ask the creator of the Bean in Chicago, who desperately reminds everyone it’s actually called the Cloud Gate.” You bent at the waist to pick up a blanket from the floor and chucked it back into the basket next to the sofa you and Clark had been cuddling on. You mumbled, “So dumb. It’s clearly a bean.”

Clark dropped his head back, his eyes closed as his nostrils flared in frustration from getting nowhere with you. When you turned around, you watched him openly, molars grinding out of your own frustrations and guilt rising in your chest.

It was a silly argument. Something that could be squashed in a less juvenile state, but you really needed Clark to realise you had just wrapped your head around the Metropolis Subway, and you didn’t want to undo all your hard work by living in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of robots to keep you company on the weekends.

“Look. If it’s the cost of apartments in Metropolis, I can find another job.” You said quietly.

Clark dropped his gaze to you. A full pout on his face. “Money isn’t the issue for me. I just think, I’ve got a perfectly good place to live!”

“You sound like a mother.” You argued with a laugh. “I’m going to bed. We can sleep on this. I love you.” You stepped into Clark’s space and kissed the pout on his lips before sauntering down the hallway to the spare room.

Clark rubbed the wrinkles on his forehead and broke into a speedy walk to catch up with you.

"You must be confusing me with somebody." You reply harshly and then you are leaving. Practically sprinting to your job.

Shit, this wasn't supposed to happen. You have been avoiding this man for almost two years now. Sure, you have seen him around, but you always made sure to dissappear out of his sight before he could see you.

You and him were best friends, maybe could be more if he didn't leave. And when he decided to pursue the big job in Metropolis, you didn't hesitate to support him.

You thought that your frienship could survive the distance, but you were wrong. The first few weeks you were texting, calling, face-timing, just anything to be in touch.

But soon the reaching out from his side became less and less. Until it stopped and you were the only one calling him, texting him .

Until you weren't.

You stopped trying to reach him, too. It took him a few days to notice and to beg for your forgiveness. Saying he was busy with work and so on. You didn't bother to respond, you ghosted him until he gave up. In your opinion, he gave up way too easily, and that hurt even more.

You deserved better than your supposed best friend giving up on you. You weren't going to beg him for attention, not when it was breaking your heart.

You cried for 2 weeks straight, heartbroken by it all. But you had to move on and you did.

Months later, when you finally felt healed enough you decided to accept the offer for your dream job in Metropolis, even with the danger of stumbling into him.

You arrive at said job, panting for a breath. You often imagined how meeting with Clark would go, but this was way worse. It was like someone threw you into a cold water and left you there to drown.

"You okay?" Your colleague asks you as you pass her desk. You must look worse than you thought.

"I'm fine." You mumble before you lock yourself away in your office.

You try to distract yourself with work, but it barely works. Clark is on your mind the whole day.

Even when you get home, his soft face haunts you. You barely sleep, tossing and turning in bed. And even when you barely slept, you are late for work, again.

You stumble through the busy streets again, but this time you are alert. Your eyes snagging at every towering man you can see.

And that's when you see him with his messy curls and askew glasses. You panic and enter the first café you see. You only leave when you are sure he is gone.

And that's how it goes the whole week, Clark takes this route to work in hopes of seeing you again and you avoid him like a plague, hiding in café.

At least the coffee there is good. You sip on the hot liquid as you leave the café. There's almost spring to your step as you avoid the Clark crisis once again.

"Y/N." A deep voice startles you and your yummy coffee falls to the ground. And you realise you can't pretend not to know him again.

Clark is standing there, obviously waiting for you and you don't even bother stopping as you head to work. You can't be doing this. Not today. Not ever.

Clark is in front of you in quick strides and you stop your legs before you can bump into his chest. "Leave, Kent." You murmur, the words a broken thing.

He flinches at your use of his last name, his was always Clark to you. "Y/N, please. What are you doing here?"

"We don't need to do this." You gesture between the two of you. "I gotta get to work."

You try to go around him, but he sidesteps into your way. "Work? You live here? How about a dinner? So we can catch up?"

Is he really this clueless? He was the one that stopped trying and now he wants to catch up. Yeah no, hard pass.

"No." You say in your last moment of strength. You will cry soon if he doesn't get out of your damn face.

Your answer is like a slap to his face and his hopeful smile falls. "No?"

"No, Kent. I don't want to do anything with you." You know it's a low blow, but it's the truth. You can't give him another chance, your heart is barely pieced together since the last time you trusted him to cherish it.

"I know, we haven't talked in a while, but I've missed you. If you just let me explain-"

"Explain?" You laugh dryly. "You were the one to leave and forget all about me, Kent."

He looks so hurt and you know the pain in your face must be way worse. "Please, sweetheart. Just let me explain. I know that I fucked it's because-"

"I can't do this!" You seethe at him and he shuts his mouth quickly. You can't be standing in the middle of the street about to break apart infront of everyone, including Clark.

The stitches of your barely healed heart are coming loose and you need to get out of his proximity or you might puke.

"Just leave me alone." Your voice breaks at the last words and finally he lets you go. Clearly, he understands now just how much he hurt you.

-

You stay in the comfort of your apartment to work remotely the next day. Too afraid to bump into Clark again. Too afraid that his pleading, desperate words might just work on you.

You stare blankly at the screen of your laptop when your phone rings and you almost throw the phone away when you see the caller's id.

'Clark's Ma' is written on it. You debate on not picking up, but you know she is capable of pulling up to Metropolis just to make sure you are okay.

"Hi, Mrs. Kent." You say into the phone, voice a little groggy.

"Hi, sweetie. You okay? How's Metropolis?" Fuck. Clark must have called her.

You made both of his parents promise not to tell him that you were in Metropolis. They were one of the first people to know when you got the job. Even without Clark, they were still important in your life.

"Did Clark call you?" You sigh into the phone.

There's a rustle on the other side of the phone before she speaks again. "Yes. He, gosh, he's feeling so sorry, sweetie." That's all she says, she would never try to convince you to give him a chance when she knows just how much he hurt you.

You don't know how to respond to that so instead you ask about the farm. She doesn't point out the blatant change of subject and talks to you about anything other than Clark.

By the time, you hang up you are feeling much lighter and ready to take on the world again. Clark's parents seem to have that effect on you.

The small calmness dissappears when the news show Superman fighting against some alien downtown, just a few blocks away from your small apartment. You hold your breath every time he gets hurt.

There is something so familiar about him. About the way he treats old people, kids and just about everyone with the kindest heart. He has grown on your broken heart with that. His charms has made you one of the many people that cheer him on.

You turn the TV off when you can no longer look at the extreme fight. Instead, you try to get your attention back to your work. It obviously doesn't work not when the worry for Superman and messy thoughts about Clark occupy your mind.

You don't even realise how quickly the time passes and the sun sets, leaving your apartment in dark. There's a thud in the hallway of your floor, but you don't think much of it, there's always something happening in this building. Even though you never see your neighbours, like ever, there's enough noise to know you dont live here alone.

Your tummy rumbles, reminding you that you haven't eaten anything all day long. Your fridge is empty since you skipped the grocery run yesterday in favour of crying in bed.

You need to get something to eat, you are hurting but passing on food isn't a good idea. Who knows? Maybe your favourite food will bring you the comfort you need.

You put on a big hoodie, hiding yourself in it and unlock your door. You turn the handle down and your door swings violently open. A huge body frame falls to the ground, he was clearly laying against the door.

"Superman?" Your eyes widen as you take him in. He looks like shit, there's blood everywhere and his face is one big bruise instead of the usual flawless skin.

Your voice wakes him up a little and he looks at you with something you can't quite place. The blue of his eyes boring into you. "Y/N, sweetheart..."

He breathes out your name like an answer to his prayers.

Your head spins. What the fuck is going on? And how does Superman know your name?

You are panicking. You don't know what to do. He's way too hurt to be here. "Hang on, I'll call an ambulance." You fumble with your phone, ready to call someone to help.

"No. No ambulance please." He grunts out, trying to sit up. He is so weak that he drops his body two times before you take mercy on him and help him.

Your small body compared to his seems useless, but somehow you make it work and lean his body against the door frame.

"Who can I call then? Hmm?" You thrusts the phone infront of him. There must be someone who could help him, someone more skilled, more composed.

"Just wanted you." He murmurs and your heart does all sorts of things. The way he says it, the way he looks at you and the way your heart knows....

You stumble back a step, realisation hitting your like a ton of bricks. Fuck me. " C-Clark?"

"Hi, sweetheart." He says, eyes softening, pain suddenly dulled when you say his name.

The panic you feel grows ten times and even though you will hate yourself for it. You help Clark farther into the apartment and close the door behind you.

You are breathing hard, like you just ran a marathon and Superm-... Clark just stares at you. But before he can say a word you are out of your hallway and down to your bathroom for a first aid kit.

Clark must have panicked, seeing your flee away from him because when you come back, he's up on his feed, leaning heavily against your kitchen counter.

"The couch." You point out and help him stumble to it. He slumps onto the comfy cushions, relief visible as he sits.

"I should call the ambulance." You mumble as you look at him. You have no freaking idea what you are doing.

"No ambulance. I'll be fine, just need a second..." He says, but he looks like he needs way more than just a second of time.

You've seen Superman get hurt badly and still show up to fight again the next day as if he wasn't hurt at all. But seeing him here, on your couch all beaten and bleeding and all Clark is way different. Way more terrifying.

Why is he even here?

"Y/N..." Clark starts, noting the utter panic on your face. But hearing his voice makes it even worse and you don't think you can hear him speak at all.

You open the first aid kit and spray a dezinfectant on a gause. Your shaking hands reach out for his face and you dab the blood and dirt away. It shuts him up and you take his roaming eyes instead of the pleading words gladly.

Most of the cuts are completely healed, only the blood is left. You work quickly wanting to get away from him because this proximity is fucking you up. All sorts of feelings are resurfacing, and you don't hate them as much as you should.

Clark closes his eyes with a sigh when you refuse to properly look at him. By the time his face is clear of the blood and even his knuckles are all cleaned up, you get up.

You expect him to open his eyes again and go home, but he doesn't move. His breathing is evened out and you realise that the man you have been avoiding for years is asleep on your couch.

"Kent!" You say sternly. Clark bolts awake, alerted but when his eyes land on you he relaxes again. Good for him, at least somebody is relaxing in your home.

"What are you doing here, Kent?" You ask impatiently. You know you are being a bitch, but he can take it. He's done worse.

"I... I don't know." He scratches the back of his head. "I was trying to get home and then I just remember blackness and waking up on your floor."

"How did you know where I live?" You squint at him. There are more important questions on your mind but this is the first one that leaves your mouth.

"I didn't..." He admits. And that just doesn't make any sense.

"Oh my god, have you been following me?" You almost yell at him because if so that is so fucking weird.

"No! Jesus, who do you think I am?" He runs a hand across his healing face. "I'd never disturb your privacy like that. I just...."

He hesitates for a second but your face says he better not bullshit you, not again. "I can hear your heartbeat. Always could well... before I left for Metropolis. I could always find you just by hearing your heart."

Jesus, let's talk about cracking your heart more, shall we? "You mean before you left me for Metropolis." You mumble out, letting the hurt seeping into your words.

"Sweetheart-"

"Don't call me that." You say and you turn around to leave, but his gentle hand circles your wrist. The hold is light enough to let you leave if you truly want to.

"Please." Clark begs, voice desperate. "Please, y/n, just let me explain."

Fuck it. You are tired of it all. Tired of running your mind around for an answer to why he left you like you meant nothing. And you just want this to be over. To be able to move on.

"Fine. But I can't have this conversation with Superman." The red and blue suit looks ridiculous in your apartment and it seems to be softening the anger you feel, knowing he's been protecting this city for years.

"Wait here." You say and then scramble to your room. The long forgotten box in the back of your closet is filled with the reminders of him. His old clothes.

You throw them at his chest before you make your hands useful again and make some tea. By the time it is done, Clark's costume is fully gone replace by his old, a little tight clothes.

You stop dead in your tracks. He looks far too like your old Clark. He looks like he hasn't changed one bit even though you both know that's not true.

"I can't do this." You shake your head, still not moving. You are too scared to hear what he has to say. What if it breaks your heart even more?

"Y/N..." Clark pleads, he can't let you go. He's not doing that mistake again.

"I can't." You look at the ground, fighting the tears trying to make their way. Shit, you don't want him to see you like this.

"I was scared." Clark says loud and your eyes whip to his.

"What?" He was scared? Of what? He is literally bullet proof.

"Of losing you! It was already hard enough that I left you in Smallville, but then I showed myself as Superman here... I couldn't even bring myself to think of what you might think of me. That I lied to you about my parents, my real parents. About me being human."

Your mind goes back to the first time Superman showed himself. You realise it was around the exact time Clark stopped reaching out to you.

You don't stop the tears as they flow.

"I thought that maybe if I distanced myself from you just a little bit, it would be better. That it would be easier to one day tell you the truth. But shit, I fucked up. I knew it the minute you ignored me."

"I was an idiot. Not just then but for years. I didn't want to loose you because of the lie and I lost you because I was stupid. " Clark runs a hand through his ruffled hair, making a mess of it. His eyes are just as glossy as yours.

"You should have given me the choice to decide whether or not I'd still want to be around you!" You raise your voice, frustration getting the better of you.

Yes, maybe you would have been pissed as hell about him lying to you for years, but...You would have gotten over it eventually. Being an alien, practically all alone in this world must have been frightening. So you can't judge him too hard for the fact that he's not eager to share that part of him.

"I was too scared to give it a chance, especially when I wanted to be more than just a friend to you!" He spills those words in one breath and it's like a gut punch.

You have convinced yourself for years that he'd never like you back, not like that, and now he was saying he would?

Your legs feel weak so you move to the couch, setting the mugs with the tea down. "I wanted us to be more, too." You confess quietly. "And I'd never hold it against you that you kept your identity secret for all those years."

"God, I know that now. I should have known. I am so sorry, y/n." He hides his heartbroken face in his hands. And you, stupidly enough, want to comfort him.

There's a daunting realisation happening when you realise he didn't abandon you because he didn't want you anymore. He just got lost. And it breaks your heart even more at that moment.

"I thought you hated me." You mumble out as a sob shakes you.

"Oh god, never. I could never." Clark's self-restrain vanishes when he hears those broken words from you, and his hands are on you, bringing you into his lap and hugging you tightly.

You let him. You are tired of running away from him. You want him back in your life. He's always been the piece that was missing. You don't want to be away from him any longer. The longing for him is bigger than the anger you feel.

The anger has been slowly easing away for days now.

Once, the tears stop falling, you awkwardly peel yourself away from him. But Clark's hands don't leave your body, his pinky stays near yours.

"How can I fix this?" Clark asks, his cheeks wet, too.

But looking at him, you know there's nothing to fix. You are too soft to stay away. You want a second chance at this, even if you are scared as hell about it.

"You get one more chance." You whisper. "One more chance to start over, Clark."

The relief floods his body, and his big hand wraps around yours. "Thank you, sweetheart, thank you. I won't let you down. Never again."

He is eager to let you know that. "You still aren't forgiven..." You add, and Clark nods, of course he knows that. He doesn't deserve your forgiveness yet. He's not sure he even deserves this second chance, but he's not saying a word against it. Too selfish to tell you to forget him.

"But we can start over." You say, gently returning the squeeze of his hand.

"I'd love nothing more." If that's all you have to offer now, Clark will take it with open arms.

"Good. Now drink your goddamn tea and let me tell you how ridiculous that costume is." Clark laughs, the deep belly laugh and the corners of your mouth go up.

Maybe it will be alright after all.

CHAPTER ONE — completed (15.1k words) Clark Kent meets someone just like him, and he's determined to get to know you more for his own selfish purposes.

PART ONE ♡ CLARK KENT X VILLAIN!READER

PART TWO ♡ TERRITORIAL

PART THREE ♡ SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE

PART FOUR ♡ EXTRA TERRESTRIAL

PART FIVE ♡ RED SUN

CHAPTER TWO — ongoing You lose something dear to you, and Clark is determined to be your henchman and do your bidding.

PART ONE ♡ ULTRAVIOLENCE

⠀ NOTES ꜜ This is heavily inspired with IWTV 😘 Also… I’m so sorry for this late fic :( but I hope you guys like it.

Some nights in that city felt like they existed just to get under your skin. Tonight proved that feeling right. You were minding your own business while hunting in peace, but somehow you ended up cleaning someone else’s mess in an alley. A man lay slumped against the wall, and his breathing sounded like he was about to give out. He was drained but not enough to be dead because the work reeked of a newborn vampire who fed and then ran before finishing the job. It was sloppy, and it pissed you off because whoever did it clearly had no idea how to follow through.

Walking closer gave you the bad news right away because his heartbeat moved in a way that told you he only had minutes left. You crouched beside him, and his eyes cracked open as if he barely saw you, yet he still tried to speak. That small effort showed that something stubborn remained in him. He didn’t want to die, and that part was obvious. Turning him was a stupid choice even for you, but you hated leaving things half done, so you stepped in and made a quick call even though it wasn’t really yours to make. You knew this meant dealing with whatever came after.

The turning process wasn’t hard, and honestly, it was easy enough for you. Moving his body back to your place took more effort, but you managed it anyway. It also wasn’t new knowledge that newly turned vampires were always a problem. He proved that right away, from the moment he woke up confused and too strong, while you had to keep him from breaking the nearest door. He calmed down once he realized you were the one who saved him, and something inside him latched on, or maybe never left at all. Even after days had passed, he kept showing up wherever you went, and yes, sire, and all that. You knew the deal. He acted like staying close to you made the world easier to handle. You never asked for that, but you knew the risk, and he followed anyway. Somehow, it turned into a bond that went further than you ever wanted.

Maybe it’s your fault because you can’t bring yourself to push him away or force him to find others like him. People pass through your nights in a blink, and the world keeps moving, but he stays. Things work as long as he follows your lead and you keep him in check. The problem starts when he moves closer in a way that goes beyond the bond formed the night you turned him. He listened to you because he wanted to understand this new life and because he trusted you more than anyone else. That part annoyed you at first, but it worked in a way you never expected because he didn’t just follow you. He chose you, and he kept choosing you after that.

At some point, it stopped feeling like babysitting and became a habit. Not in a bad way because it wasn’t. It just meant he was there when the night ended, and you were used to that. Clark learned faster than most fledglings, and not because you pushed him. He listened because he wanted to and because your rules made sense to him. The three that mattered most were feeding schedules, boundaries, and who to avoid. He followed all of it like it meant something, and that made it harder to pretend you weren’t involved.

The bond helped, but it wasn’t the only reason he stayed. You felt the pull, and he felt it too, but there were nights you sent him away, and he still came back later on his own. He wasn’t chasing something he lacked. He was sure of himself and certain, in a quiet way, that this was where things worked best. Like you were the one thing that stayed solid in a world that suddenly asked too much from him. It bothered you how easily he fit beside you without crowding you or asking for permission. You never told him he belonged to you. You never made him feel like he owed you anything just because you turned him or gave him ’another chance in life,’ as he called it.

You never promised him eternity, safety, or anything clean like that. How could you? He was not begging when you turned him, since he barely had the strength to speak at all. What you gave him was direction and a roof over his head. A place to recover when hunger hit and made him reckless. Somewhere along the way, that became trust. Somewhere after that, it became a choice. He did not hang onto you out of need- he stayed because he wanted to. That difference mattered more than you wanted to admit. Nothing really changed after that, and you did not notice how much time passed.

Things felt easier now… easy enough that neither of you bothered naming it and easy enough that Clark was already in the living room when you walked in. He leaned against the wall by the couch and watched you the second you stepped inside, like he had been there for a while. Clark kept his eyes on you for a long moment before he spoke. “You smell like someone else,” he said in a tone that tried to sound bored, but his jaw kept getting tight. He stepped closer while his arms stayed at his sides, like he wanted an answer before he touched you.

You leaned back against the counter while he looked you over, and the quiet stretched long enough for his irritation to show. “It was nothing,” you said, because it was nothing to you. Feeding and fucking and taking what you wanted when you wanted it. It never meant more than that moment. That was how you were with people before him and with him, too. You never named anything. Clark stared at you like he expected you to take it back. He tilted his head slightly, like he was searching your face for something that went past your words. “So I can do that too?” His voice came tight, but he kept it low. “Just find someone when I want?”

You pushed your hand through his hair while he tried to keep eye contact with you. “Do whatever you want,” you said. “You’re not tied to anything.” His shoulders dropped a little when he heard that, and the tension eased out of him, so you pulled him closer by the front of his shirt before he could step back. “As long as you come back here,” you added while your thumb brushed over his lower lip. “That’s the only part that matters.” Clark breathed out in a way that sounded worn and jealous at once. His hands stayed on your waist while he leaned in. “You say that like it’s easy,” he whispered against your mouth. “Like it doesn’t bother me.”

“It doesn’t have to turn into something difficult,” you said while your fingers curled at the back of his neck. “You’re here. I’m here. That’s enough.” He pressed his forehead to yours while his hands kept you close. “Then don’t walk in smelling like someone else,” he said. “I don’t like it.” You smiled against his mouth because his jealousy always came out the strongest when he tried to act calm. “Then keep up,” you murmured. “Or take whatever you want to.” Clark kissed you before you were even done talking, and the move lit something in your chest that always made you act first. The kiss is rough because of it, and your hand pushed against his jaw, so he had to follow the pace you set.

His breath caught against your mouth while you pressed him back, and the next thing you felt was him move the two of you quickly. Fast, as in using his vampire speed, and that told you he was getting excited, which explained why he dragged you straight into the hallway. The wall hit your back once he stopped moving around, but the kiss never broke. His hands were already on your waist, and he held you as he needed you to stay exactly where he put you. You pushed back and bit his lower lip. The sound he let out went straight into your mouth, and the small push from you flipped something in him, which made him pull you closer while your fingers dragged up the back of his neck.

You didn’t let him break the kiss, even when he pulled back just an inch. What was the point when both of you were already dead anyway? His mouth slams back onto yours and stays there. Both of your lips press together hard, like the kiss needs more weight, even if that sounds impossible. One thing stays clear, though. There’s no teasing and no pause. His tongue slides past your lips and moves against yours with no patience. You feel it pushing and turning like he wants every part of your mouth. You don’t make him wait before you copy what he does.

Your tongue presses against his and slips inside before bending just enough to meet him, but he takes over instead, and his tongue presses harder and wraps around yours. His teeth brush your lower lip before he traps it between them and nips it. He holds it long enough before you pull back and bite him, which makes him groan into the kiss. Neither of your hands stays still anymore. One of his hands slides under your thigh and lifts it over his hip while the other pins your waist to the wall. Your hands grip his shoulders and the back of his neck as he keeps you locked there, and his tongue pushes harder against yours.

He grinds into you through the kiss, and when he gets tired of biting your lips, he goes back to pushing his tongue into your mouth. You welcome it, let him slide, and turn with yours, like he wants control, and he knows you’ll give it. He pulls your tongue into his mouth and sucks it as if it belongs to him. He switches between sucking your tongue and biting your lips while dragging your mouth along with his. Your tongue brushes his teeth, and he hooks it before pulling it back into his mouth again.

His hands grip tighter as he presses into your leg while your bodies grind together. Tongues push and turn while lips get pulled and bitten, and his fangs press lightly before pulling back, but he keeps your mouths locked together as he sucks your tongue and drags your lips with his. His tongue slides against yours and moves inside your mouth before he nips at your lower lip again, this time with control. He drags it with his teeth until his fangs press against the corner of your mouth for a moment before sliding back. Your lips stay sealed around his as he pulls your tongue into his mouth again and drags it along with his mouth.

His mouth stays on yours while his hand hooks under your thigh again and lifts you clean off the floor. Your arms lock around his neck right away because he doesn’t slow down, and your body fits against him like he wants you stuck there while he keeps kissing you. His tongue pushes into your mouth again as he tightens his grip on your waist, and he carries you out of the hallway without letting your lips slip from his for even a second. Your back hits the door lightly because he moves too fast while kissing you, but he never slows down.

His hand pulls your thigh higher around his hip as he carries you, and he nudges the door with his foot. The door swings inward right away because it wasn’t fully closed, so he doesn’t even need the knob. The sudden swing pulls both of you forward, and the kiss gets rougher as he brings you inside. He doesn’t look where he’s going because he keeps kissing you like nothing outside your mouth matters. “Hold on,” he tries to say against your lips, but the words get lost because he won’t pull back for more than a breath.

You tightened your legs around him as he carried you inside, and the kiss only broke for one second when he had to fix his grip. It snapped right back as you grabbed his jaw and pulled him down to your mouth again. His teeth caught your lower lip because he moved too fast, and your body rocked with every step as he closed the distance to the bed. “God, you drive me crazy,” he muttered against your mouth, and the way he said it sounded like he didn’t even realize the words left him. He reached the bed and lowered you fast enough that the kiss finally broke when your shoulders hit the mattress.

His breath dragged out of him as he hovered over you, and his mouth stayed close enough that you could still feel how worked up he was. “Look at you,” he said quietly as his thumb brushed your cheek like he didn’t know where to touch first. “You don’t even let me breathe.” You pulled him down by the front of his shirt and caught his mouth again before he could add anything else. His hand pressed near your hip as he leaned his weight over you, and his kiss came back just as deep as before.

Your grip on his shirt pulls him down hard, and he gives in without a fight. His mouth crashes back onto yours as he needs it more than air. The kiss turns wet and messy fast, and his hands brace near your hips like he thinks you might push him away. His tongue pushes deep and stays there as if he wants to lose himself in it. He kisses you like he is chasing something he already lost once. It only breaks when he drags his mouth down your jaw. His lips press open against your neck and stay there. He breathes you in slowly and deeply, like he is checking for something he hates finding. His grip tightens, and his nose stays against your skin.

“I hate that it’s still there. I don’t like it,” he says quietly against your skin. “I don’t like that you came back smelling like someone else. I can still smell them, and I hate it.” His kisses turn more desperate because of it. His mouth opens, and seals against your throat, and his teeth scrape without breaking skin yet. He keeps kissing the same place again and again, like he is trying to wipe it away. The sound he makes gets uneven and small, and it gives him away. This isn’t anger. This is what it's like with nowhere else to go. “You let them touch you,” he says quietly. “And I was here thinking about you and wondering what you were doing and who you were with.”

Your hand slips into his hair and holds him there. “I know,” you tell him. “You can do something about it.” That is all it takes, and he pulls in a deep breath before his fangs press in, and this time they pierce your skin just enough. He freezes for half a second, like he is still checking with you, even now. He drinks when you do not stop him, and he only takes enough to make his point. His mouth stays there longer than he needs, and his hands shake where they hold you down. “I just want it to be me,” he admits against your neck. “I want you to smell like me again. I want them gone from you.” You drag your fingers through his hair and tug. “You already know how to do that,” you tell him and pull him closer with your legs.

He sinks his fangs again so he can drink a little more, but he keeps himself in check. He stays shallow on purpose, and he drinks in a way that pulls a sound out of both of you. His hold shakes, and his body presses closer. When he pulls back, his lips are wet, and his eyes look heavy and unfocused in a way he only gets with you. “I hate how much I want this,” he says like a confession. “I hate that I need you to tell me it is okay, and I still wait for it.” You pull him back down by his collar and kiss him hard. His mouth opens right away, and his tongue pushes in a messy and needy way like he is trying to crawl back inside you. He follows every move you make and gives in completely, like you are steering him by the mouth alone.

He kisses you like he is asking without saying it out loud. His hands cling to you while his mouth stays open and needy, and every sound he makes disappears between your lips. Whatever jealousy sat in him earlier turns into need, and the kiss loses control. His tongue presses hard and stays there like he wants to stay in your mouth. He keeps kissing you until his control slips, and when you bite him back, he lets it happen and follows you without pushing back. He pulls away for only a breath and whispers against your lips like he cannot stop himself. “Tell me you want me. Tell me it’s me. Just tell me it’s me.”

Your mouth stays close to his, and your words brush his lips as you speak. “Want you?” you whisper as your hand slides between your bodies and down to his waistband. “Why would I want you?” You say it in a soft, teasing tone while you pull his button open, and he lets out a shaky breath that brushes your mouth. The sound moves against your lips while his chest presses harder into yours. His hands grip your sides tighter like your answer could break him. “Please,” he says quietly, “Please don’t say that. Please don’t say you don’t want me.”

His forehead drops to yours, and he stays there like he is barely holding himself together, while the feel of your fingers makes him shake harder. Your fingers pull his zipper down slowly while you keep your lips close enough that he waits for the next word. “You really think I’d want someone else?” you whisper against his mouth. “You really think I’d ever pick anyone over you?” The teasing tone in your voice sinks under his skin and makes him tilt his head back as his lips part, and he takes a deep breath. He lets out a sound that does not form into a word before his hips push down without thinking.

His body moves on its own. “I just want to hear you say it,” he says in a soft and needy way, “I want to know it’s me.” His hands flex on your sides as his nails barely touch your skin while he tries to hold himself together like letting go would mean losing you. Your hand slips inside his open waistband, and he shudders like his body gives up. Every small movement of his hips and every short pull of his breath shows how much he wants it and how badly he needs the reassurance you give. “I was teasing you,” you whisper as your lips brush his again, “Of course it’s you.” He tries to kiss you, but your hand tightens in his shirt to keep him in place, and he quiets right away. His chest lifts hard as he tries to stay in control while every part of him reacts under your fingers.

“I want you so much,” he says, “I want whatever you give me. Just don’t leave me like that again.” His voice cracks a little as his teeth drag along his lower lip with need and impatience. You kiss him once, then pull back slowly just to watch how he follows your mouth without thinking. His eyes stay locked on every movement, while his lips part and his jaw tightens, so his fingers twitch with barely held-back urgency. “If you want me that much,” you whisper, “lie back.” He does not ask why. Your hands slide to his chest, and you push him up just enough to free your body from his.

You lift yourself at the same time, and his breath stutters as he looks briefly surprised by the change. His hands hover, as if he wants to touch you, but he stays where he is, waiting for what you will do next. Then you move. Your body braces just enough to gain control, and you use your vampire strength in one smooth motion. Your hands press firmly against his chest, and you guide him onto his back while you shift your weight so he slides free from you. He lets you move him without fighting it, and his back meets the mattress with a soft thud, and then the bed creaks as he settles.

His head hits the mattress and stays there. He breathes out hard through his mouth. For a second, his body tightens like he expects you to push him again, but relaxes and rests on his back when you do not. His hands rest near his sides, and he does not try to touch you. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time and waits. “God,” he says, still out of breath from it. “You can throw me around like nothing.” His hands lift for a second like he wants to touch you, then drop when he stops himself. You move forward on your knees until your body is over his hips. One knee presses into the mattress beside his thigh.

Then the other knee settles on the opposite side, so you are fully straddling him. You lean back just enough to settle your body against his. Both of your hands plant on his chest to hold him down. His eyes widen right away. His mouth opens like he has forgotten how to speak. Every small change in your weight pulls a response out of him. His hips push up in short reflex movements. His fingers twitch but stay put. “You want me,” you whisper as you lean close to his lips again, “Then stay right there and let me see how much.”

His voice drops to a soft and needy tone that shakes a little. “I’ll stay. I’ll let you do anything. Just don’t get off me. Please.” Each word carries need while his body presses upward a little as if quietly begging, while he gives himself over to you completely. Your lips touch his throat while his pulse hits hard under your mouth. His breath reaches your cheek, which feels warm and uneven. Your top pulls tight across your chest as you lean in, so the thin straps slide down your shoulders little by little. The fabric sits close on your torso while your skirt rests low on your hips. It’s short and loose around your thighs, so it lifts each time his hips push up under you.

Clark lifts his arms a little, as if he wants to touch you, but stops himself because you did not tell him he could. His chest rises fast under your hands. His skin feels heated and tight. A small sound slips out of his throat as your fingers curl around his ribs. “Anything I want?” you whisper near his neck. He nods quickly. “Yes. Please.” You press your mouth to his throat while his body jumps once, then eases again. His skin feels warm and thin under your lips. Your fangs slide out slowly and controlled. Your breath moves across his neck so you feel him shake under you.

His fingers dig into the sheets even though you did not tell him to hold anything. “Don’t move,” you say near his skin. “I won’t,” he answers right away in a thin, desperate voice. Your mouth opens wider so your fangs go into him. His breath bursts out of him in a broken sound. His stomach pulls tight. His hips jerk up under you like he cannot help it. A ragged noise breaks out of him while his hands claw at the sheets because he is trying so hard to stay still. Warm blood hits your tongue thick and full. It moves down your throat steadily and sweetly.

Your nails press deeper into his chest as you drink from him, even and unhurried. His heartbeat pushes against your mouth. His whole body trembles under your weight, so you feel every reaction he tries to hold back. “God,” he gasps as his voice cracks like something inside him gives in. While you drink, he loses control for a moment. His fingers rise from the mattress, then hover near your waist before they slide up to your strap. He waits there shaking. He does not pull yet. He waits for you. “Can I?” he whispers. His voice gives out. “Please. I want to touch you.”

Your fangs stay in his neck while he asks. His breathing breaks down under you. His arm shakes as he holds the strap with only his thumb brushing your skin. He is begging without saying the word. You pull your mouth off his throat at an unhurried pace, so blood runs down your lip in one warm line. His eyes go wide when he sees it. His chest rises fast again, like he can’t breathe right. You speak low. “Push it down.” He freezes for half a second, then his hand closes around the strap. He slides it down your shoulder carefully and slowly, like he fears you might stop him. His other hand rises to the other strap, so his knuckles move over your skin, soft and unsure.

“More?” he whispers. His voice is thin and hungry. “Please tell me I can.” You look down at him when he asks, and your breath feels hot in your throat from everything he is already doing to you. “You can,” you say in a low voice. The second you answer him, he moves. He pulls one strap down, and it slides over your shoulder until it hangs loose from your arm. He does the same to the other strap, moving it with restraint so his knuckles run over your skin, making his breath shake. Your top sags around your chest as the straps fall away.

The fabric sits loose against you and nearly slips lower, yet stays in place only because your body is leaning forward. “You look so good like this,” he whispers, his voice soft yet not helpless. His stomach tightens before he pushes himself up fast, like he needs your approval on everything for him to breathe. His hands slide up your arms, then around your waist so that he can guide both of you upright. He sits up with you still straddling his hips, and your knees stay planted on the mattress. His back hits the headboard with a thump, and the bed moves under both of you.

Your body stays pressed against his chest while your legs stay open around his hips. His breath hits your throat hard as he settles against the headboard. His hands drag down your waist slowly until his fingers find your straps again. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but he ends up letting out a rough, short sound instead. His fangs press against his lip, and he drags one hand over your ribs, then lower until he is holding your waist firm. He pulls you closer by your waist so your chest presses into his. “Come here. Let me see you.”

Your hands slide up his chest, and you keep him back against the headboard with your weight. His breath stutters as your fingers move over him. His hips push up under you in a quick way he can’t hide. You lean in until your face is right above his. “You want more?” you say in a low voice. He nods right away and keeps his eyes on yours. “I want all of you.” You feel his hands find the edge of your top again. He grips the fabric at the sides and waits like he won’t move unless you say so.

Your eyes drop to his hands, and you smile. “Go on,” you say. He takes his time. He slides his hand under the hem of your top and pushes it down instead of lifting it. The fabric moves over your chest, then bunches at your stomach. Your bra stays exposed, and he keeps his eyes on it. A quiet breath slips out of him before he can stop it. His hands pause for a moment before moving again. One hand moves up the center of your body and presses his palm against your chest while his thumb runs along the edge of the bra like he needs to check that it’s really there.

“You keep doing this to me,” he says quietly. “You show me everything and then look at me like that.” You lift your chin. “And you stay right here,” you say. “All worked up.” He bends forward without thinking. His face presses into the space between your chest, and his mouth opens as he breathes you in. His nose drags along your skin. His lips softly touch your skin next, but it’s a little clumsy and needy. He kisses where your chest meets the bra, then again a little higher, like he can’t decide where to put his mouth. His hands slide around your back.

One palm rests flat between your shoulders. The other goes to the middle of your back, then moves lower until his fingers touch the clasp. He doesn’t open it. His fingers stay on the clasp as it matters too much to him. He leans his face closer and stays there. His breath feels hot on your skin, and his voice comes out muffled. “You smell like him a little,” he says. “Still.” The words come out petty, and his fingers curl like he’s trying not to deal with it. You let out a small laugh above him. “You already said that,” you tell him. “Are you going to keep bringing it up every time you get close to me?”

“I can tell,” he says. “I hate that I can tell.” Your hands slide into his hair, and you keep his face right there. “And yet you are still all over me,” you say. “So what does that say about you?” His mouth opens against your chest. He kisses again, but slower this time. His fingers grab more firmly at your back. “It says I don’t care,” he says. “It says I want you anyway.” You roll your hips once over his lap. Not fast but just enough. “Good,” you say. “Because you are not moving from this spot.” He makes a quiet sound into your chest and presses closer. His arms wrap fully around you now. His face stays against you like he doesn’t want to pull away.

His hands move on your back. One stays firm between your shoulders while the other goes down again to the clasp. This time, he doesn’t stop. Fingers hook it and open it slowly because rushing feels wrong. His face stays pressed to your chest through all of it. His nose moves along your skin while his mouth stays warm and close. A small sound leaves him when it finally opens. The bra loosens at once. One hand cups it and pulls it down from your chest inch by inch. The fabric moves over your breasts and then gathers under them. His head stays down, and he tugs it lower again until it slips past your ribs.

You grind down on him while he’s still doing it. Slow and heavy. Your hips drag along his lap, and he stiffens right away. “Hey,” he whines into your chest. The sound is small and tight. “Do not do that.” You do it again. Teeth drag over your skin without warning. Not hard but just enough to make the point clear. His mouth moves and then closes over your nipple. He sucks slowly, then bites just a little as annoyance and neediness mix together. Your breath catches. Hands press tighter against your back. One slides lower until a palm settles at your waist, keeping you right where you are.

“You are doing this on purpose,” he mumbles into your chest. You tilt your head back. “You keep touching me,” you answer. “What did you think would happen?” A rough sound leaves his chest, and he bites again. This time harder. Then he sucks like he wants everything from you at once. His hips jerk up once without thinking. “Stop moving,” he says, even though he does not want you to. His voice comes out wrecked. “Or do not stop. I do not know.” You smile and grind again, just slower. Just cruel enough. His arms tighten around you. His face presses back into your chest like he wants to stay there. His mouth keeps going like he can’t make himself stop.

“Stay,” he mutters. “Right there.” His face stays pressed to your chest while you grind down on him again, like you did not hear his small attempt at telling you to stay still. A rough breath slips out against your skin as he feels every slow drag you give him. He tries to hold himself together for a second, but it falls apart fast. His hands slide from your back to your ass in one clean move. Fingers lock around you firm enough that you feel every part of his touch, and he pulls you down exactly how he wants you.

His hips push up at the same time, like his body can’t wait for you. The pressure lines up perfectly, and a needy sound slips out of him against your chest. You do it again, slow on purpose, and he meets you halfway. His grip tightens on your ass as he guides your hips into his, the exact way his body asks for. His mouth opens against your skin, and he kisses whatever he can reach. The kisses land messy and unplanned. Small ones that turn into longer wet ones when you grind a little harder. He opens his mouth more and finds your nipple again.

He sucks your nipple slowly, like rushing would ruin it. The pull sends a full-body jolt through him, and he breathes out shaky against you. His other hand stays on your back to keep you close, so you barely move away from his mouth at all. You grind down again while he sucks harder, and a sound falls out of him that sits between a groan and a whine. His hips jerk up under you because he can’t hide how badly he wants more. His forehead knocks into your chest for a second, like he loses track of himself.

“You are doing this on purpose,” he says against your skin in a shaky voice. “You know what you are doing.” You give him one slow roll of your hips that drags right over him. “Of course I do,” you tell him. He makes another quiet, helpless sound and pulls your hips down again as he needs you to keep going no matter what. His hands stay tight on your ass while he drags you forward the way he wants. His face stays pressed to your chest, and his lips move in small, weak kisses that turn into short, wet pulls each time you grind down on him.

You move slowly by choice. Each roll hits him just enough to make him follow your pace without giving him control. He tries to talk against your skin. The words spill out in a shaky breath. “Please,” he says. “Please keep moving.” You smirk above him because his voice sounds like it's about to give out. You grind down again while his fingers spread wide on your ass and press you harder to his lap. His hips push up into you, even if he’s trying his best to stay still as you told him to. His mouth opens against your chest, and he sucks again with a needy sound that runs through him.

You drop one hand between your bodies while you kiss the side of his head. Your fingers slide under his open waistband and touch his skin. His breath cuts off, and his body jumps under you because he didn’t expect it. You move your hand lower until your fingers close around him, then you pull him out of his pants in one steady motion. His cock sits firm in your hand. A short sound comes out of him and presses into your chest. His mouth stays on you, and he keeps kissing you like he’s trying to stay in control.

His thighs tighten under you. His hips lift once, then stop when he catches himself. “You sound so worked up already,” you say in a low, taunting voice. He nods against your skin because he can’t speak yet. He kisses you again, then his teeth catch your chest in a quick bite. A small sound slips out of him when you stroke him once from base to tip. His mouth opens on your skin again, and he sucks harder because he can’t help it. You move your hand slowly just to get a reaction. His breath hits your chest fast while his hips push up, trying to follow your hand.

His fingers tighten on your ass, and he pulls you down against him like he is asking without saying it out loud. “Too fast?” you say. He shakes his head right away. His voice falls apart into the next kiss he presses to your skin. “No,” he says. “Please keep going. Please.” Your hand moves again. Slow. Firm. Done in the way you know will undo him. His forehead presses to your chest, and his body shakes under you as you stroke him with a long, dragging pull of your palm. “You want more?” you whisper against his ear. He tries to say yes, but the sound comes out as a whine against your chest instead.

His mouth stays closed around your nipple while his hips push up under you like he is trying to close the space even though you already sit on him. His hands hold your ass firm, and he drags your hips down the way he needs. His breath turns rough against your skin, and he pulls again with his mouth without being gentle this time. He sucks harder like he wants to mark the place with his mouth, and you feel the want run straight through him. Your hand tightens around his cock, and he lets out a small, ruined sound into your chest.

His hips jerk again, and he sucks even harder as it keeps him in place. He tries to move your hips again, but you keep the pace slow on purpose. “See?” you whisper while your fingers squeeze him tight, “I am taking good care of you.” He groans into your nipple and his hands dig deeper into your ass. His forehead presses into your chest while he tries to breathe. You feel him shake under you like he is about to give in. “So you don’t have anything to be jealous about,” you whisper against the top of his head.

He shakes his head once against your chest since he can’t talk yet. His mouth slides over your nipple again, and he keeps sucking because he doesn’t want to stop. You loosen your grip around him, and he gasps against your chest when your hand pulls back. His mouth stays on you, but his hips push up hard like he wants more. You grind down slowly over him, and his whole body jumps under you. His hands guide your hips the second you move, and he drags you down on him again, even though he tries not to.

His mouth stays on your nipple, and he sucks hard while you grind again right over him. “Good,” you whisper, “now let me make you feel good.” He nods into your chest with a small, needy sound and pushes up into your grind, giving himself over. He sucks harder around your nipple like he needs the contact. His breath hits your skin thick and uneven each time you grind down over him. His hands slip under your skirt without stopping, and he drags his palms up the back of your thighs until he reaches your waistband. He hooks his fingers under it, and he pulls because he wants you right there.

It happens messily and is rushed with no patience behind it. His voice hits your skin in a desperate whisper. “I need you,” he says against your nipple. “Please- I need you.” You swat his hand away before he can get your panties down, and he freezes all at once. His mouth stays on your chest, but his body stops as you cut him off mid-thought. His voice drops soft against your skin. “Please,” he says again, but it comes out smaller. His forehead presses to your chest as his hands lock on your hips. You hold his face there, then grind down slowly over his lap just to watch how fast he reacts.

His hips lift without control, and he pushes up into you like he is trying to get through the fabric. You tighten your hand around him, and he gasps hard into your chest as the feeling catches him off guard. “I know,” you whisper over the top of his head. “You are being so desperate for it, so it’s not hard not to notice you do.” He lets out a small needy sound against your skin. His hands slide lower on your hips, then lift you up just an inch, like he is asking for more without saying it. His mouth finds your nipple again, and he sucks with more pressure this time.

His teeth catch lightly on your skin while his breath comes out unevenly against your chest. His hands squeeze your hips tight enough that his arms start to shake. “I need you,” he says again. “Please stop teasing me, I need you so bad.” His grip stays tight as he lifts you that small inch like he wants more but won’t say it. His voice sounds rough against your chest when he says he needs you, but you don’t move right away. You hold his face there for a second with your hand in his hair while his mouth stays open on your nipple like he can’t pull away.

You decide to stop teasing him when you feel done with it. You sit up slowly, and his head follows your chest without thinking. Your skirt lifts with one hand while your other hand pulls your panties to the side. You can feel how wet you already are from grinding on him, and you know you don’t need anything else to be ready. His breath hits your stomach hard when he looks down. His hands stay firm on your hips like he is holding himself back so he doesn’t grab you again. You guide yourself over him. You feel how hard he is right under you.

You lower yourself down slowly and steadily. The tip goes in easily since you are already wet. His body jumps under you. His head falls back against the headboard. His mouth opens, and a sound leaves him right away. “God,” he says in a rough voice. “You feel so good. Please keep going.” You lower yourself more and feel the pressure build as he goes deeper inside you. His hands stay tight on your hips like he is afraid to move you too fast. His thighs tense under you, and his breathing turns uneven.

You brace your hands on his chest and keep lowering yourself until you take all of him. His stomach tightens under your palms. His lips press to your skin again because he cannot stop touching you. “You needed me, right?” you say low while you move your hips once to settle around him. “So watch how I give you what you want.” He cries out softly at your words. His fingers dig into your hips again. His eyes stay on yours like he is trying not to lose it under you. “Need-” he says again. “P-please- Need you-”

Your hips start to move slowly at first, then you move faster. The slide goes down with a wet sound between you, while his cock fills you easily since you are already wet. His breath cuts out when you settle on him, then you lift again and drop back down so the weight pulls another sound from his throat. His hands grip your hips, and he holds you steady while your body keeps going in an up and down motion; he can’t stop. The sound of your skin hitting his comes out harder each time your hips meet his lap. Wet sounds mix with every grind and bounce as your cunt tightens around him every time you sink down.

Your chest follows your hips, and it lifts each time you rise. Each drop forward makes your chest bounce in front of him, and he watches without looking away. He pushes his hips up to meet you, and the slap sounds louder when both of you move together. You keep both hands on him so you stay in charge. One hand stays on the side of his face, and your thumb moves over his cheek slowly as you ride him. Your other hand hooks behind his neck so you can pull him closer when you want. His eyes stay heavy on you, and they shake a little while he tries not to give in.

His hands slide lower until both palms hold your ass tight. He guides your hips down harder on him. His fingers dig in as he pulls you down again, and his breath breaks halfway out. “S-shi-” his words cut off when he whispers, “You feel so good.” You grind slow on him just to hear the wet drag again. The sound fills the space between you. His head tips back for a second, and his mouth opens with a short sound he does not plan to make. You use your hand on his face to pull him close again. “Look at me,” you say.

His eyes lift right away, and he holds your stare while his hips jerk up into you as his body reacts on its own. His breath shakes again when you drop down harder. You move faster, and the slap of your hips against his gets louder. The wet sound follows every bounce while his hands grip your ass tight like he is trying to keep up. His head lifts again, and his mouth presses to your chest as you ride him. He leaves small, open-mouth kisses across your skin while he struggles to breathe through each thrust. “Hahh- please,” he whispers against your chest, “Don’t stop- p-please.”

Your hand on his neck tightens while you push down on him again. Your chest bounces close to his face, and he presses a fast, messy kiss to your skin when it moves near him. His hands squeeze your ass harder and his hips push up to meet you each time you move. The bed rocks under both of you from how hard you move together. A wet sound comes up under you as your cunt holds him tight. His voice breaks again into a thin sound when your hips speed up. His whole body pushes up into you because he needs it, and he holds onto you like he doesn’t know where else to grab.

Your hips keep working on him, and the wet slap hits louder each time you drop down. His hands lose their grip a little on your ass as he tries to keep up with you, but his breath keeps stopping short, and his thighs tense under you like he’s about to give up. You drag yourself up slowly, and you feel the way his cock almost slips out before you drop again. The sound between your bodies comes wet and heavy. His head falls forward against your chest, and he lets out a weak, strained sound against your skin. He tries to speak, but it comes out rough and broken. “Please,” he says in a thin voice, “Please let me… let me hold you. Let me… ngh… let me help.”

You feel his hands slide higher on your ass because he won’t hold back. His fingers press under you, and he lifts you up with a rough pull like he wants you higher on him. His hips drive up from under you all at once, and it makes your breath cut short. He lifts you again and sets you down hard so the slap comes out loud. The next one comes measured. Then harder, and he lets go. Each time he pulls you down like he wants you lower than him. His breath hits your chest fast and broken while he tries to speak again, but the words come apart in his mouth.

“I need you,” he says against your skin. “I need you so bad. I need to be deeper. Let me… hah… let me do it. I want all of you.” You feel the way he lifts you again, and this time, he holds you up halfway while his body goes tight from wanting to drop you back down. His voice breaks. “Please,” he whispers. “Let me. I want to feel you take me all the way. I want… I want to give you everything.” Your hand tightens on the back of his neck to steady yourself, and you feel how worked up he is. His hips jerk up again in a hard, fast push that hits right inside you. It pulls a quick sound out of both of you at the same time.

You look down at him, and his eyes are open wide and fixed on you. He isn’t trying to move you. He is asking you. He is giving you everything he’s got. His hands tighten under your ass, and he pulls you down again with a need that comes out of him. A broken sound slips out of him as he pushes up into you again. “You feel so good,” he whispers. “Please let me stay like this. Please let me put it in you deeper. I want to fill you so bad. I want to give you everything.” He lifts you again and drops you onto him in a quick, rough move.

The slap hits hard, and his whole body jumps with it. His mouth presses to your chest again as he lets out another rough sound against your skin. “Hahh… let me give you what you want,” he says. “Please. I want to put it inside you. I want all of you. I want to fill you.” His hips keep pushing up into you as his hands stay tight on your ass, pulling you down like he wants you closer. He grabs your hips fast like he’s scared you’ll stop him, and he pushes up into you hard. The force makes your body jolt, and your mouth opens with a quick “ah-!” You can’t hold back.

His hands stay tight on your waist while he keeps pushing his hips up. Each thrust hits deep, and the sound between you turns wet and loud. You feel it in every push he gives you. His breath comes out short and uneven as he keeps moving against you, as if nothing else matters. “You feel so good,” he whispers against your chest. “Please let me keep going, please let me.” He ruts up again, which makes your whole body react as your back arches and your thighs shake. Your hand tightens at the back of his neck because the feeling hits too deep. He groans into your skin as he pushes up once more, like he’s trying to get as close as he can to you.

He thinks you are letting him take over. He thinks you will let him fuck up into you as much as he wants. His hips keep pushing up into you, and every thrust sends a wet sound through the room. Your chest bounces in front of his face, and he kisses whatever part he can reach while he breathes through it. His voice cracks when he talks again. “P-please,” he says in a quiet and shaky way. “Please- I- I need you- don’t stop me- please-” You let him do it for a few more thrusts. You feel every uneven push. You feel how he tries to pull you down harder and how his hips shake under you because he’s almost there already.

Then you move. Your hands slide up his shoulders, and you push him back down to the headboard again. Not rough. Just firm enough that his hips stop moving. His breath stalls in his throat, and he looks up at you with wide eyes like he can’t believe you stopped him. You slowly lower yourself on him again, and a broken “n-nngh-” leaves his mouth against your chest. His hands stay on your waist, but they loosen. He lets you hold him there. He lets you take control back. You grind down on him in one slow roll, and his head drops back against the wall. His mouth falls open. His chest lifts fast under you like he’s about to come

“Thought I was going to let you fuck me however you want?” you say in a quiet voice. He shakes his head once because he can’t get words out. His hands stay on your hips like he’s scared to move them. You lift your hips, then drop back down harder. Skin slaps together with a wet smack, showing how wet you are. His whole body jerks under you, and his voice breaks into a soft “mmf- ah-!” The sound cuts him off as his breath trips. “Yeah?” you say while you keep riding him steadily and full. “Going to let me do it?” You pick up the pace. His hands grip your hips again just to hang on.

He doesn’t try to guide you. He just takes every drop and every roll as your cunt tightens around him. The bed rocks under both of you, and his voice slips again with each thrust. “Hahh- please,” he whispers. “Please- don’t stop, please don’t stop, please.” You keep the same pace because you want to feel it all. His body shakes under yours. His hips jump when you drop down like he can’t help it. His breath falls apart as he looks up at you like you’re the only thing in the room. He wants it so badly it becomes pure need.

Your hips move faster, and the mattress starts to move under both of you. It lands roughly every time you bounce on his lap, and the wet sound fills the room. His head lifts from the headboard, and he leans up a little while trying to follow you. Your cunt tightens around him on purpose, and a broken sound slips out of him as he leans in. “Ahhhn-” he whispers against your neck. “Keep doing that. P-please… don’t stop-” His hands grip your hips too hard now. He tries to guide your pace, but he can’t keep up with you.

Your body keeps going up and down fast, and he starts to lose it under you. His hips push up hard every time you come down, and his breath hits your neck in short, uneven pulls. His mouth finds your skin, and he kisses wherever he can reach. His lips move over your throat. His jaw presses against your ear. He whines into your skin, and the sound breaks against you. “Nghhh- I need it,” he whispers. “I need you so bad. I need all of you.” You feel his mouth open against your neck, and he tries to bite in that weak, begging way he always does when he’s close.

His breath comes unevenly, and his voice breaks on the next word. “I want it inside you- I want all of it- please… let me- please.” You roll your hips down slower to test him, and his body jerks up into you because he can’t wait anymore. His fingers dig into your waist, and his mouth stays pressed to your neck. His voice comes out rough against your skin. “Mm- please.” A small sound slips out of you when his hips jerk up under you.

The movement hits deeper, and you gasp while your breath catches near his ear. You press your hand to the back of his head and pull him closer until his face stays tight against your neck. “You want it that bad?” you whisper steadily, and the break in your voice shows how good he feels inside you. You bounce down on him again as the sound comes out loud and messy. “You want it all inside me that much?” You squeeze him harder and press down until he’s all the way in you. Every gasp and jerk from him makes you grind harder against his body. “Hahh- yes,” he whispers, “Yes- please… I want all of it. I want it so bad, please.”

You clench around him on purpose, and his hips thrust up hard as he loses control of the movement. A tight breath slips out of you when he hits deep enough to pull sound from your throat, “o-oh.” His breath tears out of him in a rough, broken “hngh-!” against your throat. He tries to hold your waist, but you move quicker and press harder, which makes him fall right back into just making helpless sounds. Your body lifts fast, then drops again as your tits bounce hard with every thrust into him. A soft whine slips out of you as the feeling builds in your stomach and your fingers tighten in his hair. His mouth stays on your neck, and he keeps kissing your skin between breaths because he can’t help it. His voice shakes every time he pushes up into you. “Oh god- please… please- keep going, please.”

You grind down and hold him there tight, and a needy sound slips out of you from how full it feels. His whole body locks under you because you steal the breath from him. His forehead presses harder against your neck, and his voice comes out thin and needy. “H-hngh- I need you- need all of you- I swear I’ll give you everything-” Your hips lift again, and you ride him fast enough that wet sounds mix with the slap of skin while your breath starts to break between each move. A quiet breathy “mm- fuck…” slips out without warning while he drags through every place inside you that makes you lose it.

His voice breaks into small, messed-up sounds under you. His hands slide to your ass and squeeze hard as he tries to thrust up with you, but can’t keep up. You lean close to his ear, your breath hot and uneven, your voice dropping low and teasing. “You want to fill me so bad?” you whisper, and a moan slips right into the words. “Then show me how much.” His hips snap up into you on instinct with nothing held back, and a broken “nnngh” hits your neck as you ride him faster.

His mouth stays glued to your skin, dragging slowly and desperately, while his fingers dig into your waist and shake. Your breath breaks out of you when he thrusts up again, and it drives straight into you. He’s right there, and he knows it, but he can’t stop himself. Your hips slam down on him over and over, and the sound keeps filling the room every time you take all of him. His cock stays deep inside you, thick and twitching, and he makes ruined sounds against your neck while he fights for air. He buckles up without thinking, but it does nothing because you stay on top. You set the pace, and you take what you want.

His hands grab your ass hard as his fingers dig in like he needs something to hold onto, and he thinks gripping tighter might make you give in. You don’t. You ride him faster, and you use his body how you want, so his grip turns desperate. He tries to speak, but the sounds break apart instead of forming words. “Ahhhn- please-” he whispers into your skin. “Please- I-I can’t- I’m gonna- I’m c-close-” You feel it when his cock jerks inside you as it suddenly feels fuller while his hips start giving out beneath you. His stomach pulls tight as you lean forward, then pin his chest with your hands and grind yourself fully down on him.

“Look at you,” you say right in his ear. “That’s all it takes?” He whines, and the sound tears out of him as he presses his face into your neck like he’s trying to hide. “Please,” he says again while completely undone. “Let me come- I’ll do anything.” You squeeze around him on purpose, making his whole body jolt. A choked sound spills out of his mouth as his cock twitches inside you. His hips snap up hard, and the hit pulls a soft sound from you because he lands deeper inside you. Your nails drag through his hair while you force him back down to your pace.

You move faster, and his breath breaks into short, busted pulls. “P-please-” he breathes, “D-don’t stop- don’t- please… I need you.” You drag your hips down slowly for one deep grind, and the wet sound slaps loudly between you. His whole body jerks because he can’t handle it, and you feel him try to thrust up, but your grip on his shoulders keeps him pinned. You grab his hair and yank his head back just enough to make him look. His eyes go wide, and his mouth stays open as his chest heaves hard under you. Your lips brush his ear. “You want to fill me so bad?” you whisper, and the last word comes out rough.

You tighten around him again. “You feel that?” Your hips start moving again fast and hard, so you use him until his breathing breaks. He whispers your name over and over as his hips twitch and his cock jumps deep inside your pussy. He tries to keep up and can’t. His hips jerk up in a useless shove, and he gasps against your neck. “I can’t-” he says, “I can’t hold- s-still… I need you- I n-need-” You slam yourself down harder so his cock drives all the way in. He groans and whines like he’s gone past stopping while his mouth scrapes over your neck and leaves wet, messy kisses.

He cries out and jerks under you when you drop onto him. “G-God-” he begs. “Please- let me cum inside you-” You clamp around him tight, then bounce on him harder. His cock kicks inside you, and thick noise rips out of your throat. You slam down on him and keep his head pinned by his hair. He whimpers and tries to lift his hips, but you force him down. “Look at me,” you hiss. “You don’t come unless I say so, and you only cum when I want.” His hips jolt, and his legs give up. His cock drives into you while he sobs your name. You fuck him with your hips until he falls apart.

Your hand hooks in his hair and yanks his face up off your neck, so you force his eyes on you. His eyes stay blown open and empty, and you see how fucked he already is. “You want to fill me that bad?” you whisper as your voice slips because he’s hitting right. “Cum inside me then.” He locks up for a split second, then his body gives in. His hips slam up into you fast while his body goes tight under you because he can’t stop. He spills broken noises and curses while he drives up into you, sloppy and needy and wet. You ride him back through every thrust while his cock stays buried deep inside you.

Every breath he rips out hits your ear and makes your cunt squeeze tight around him. “Ahhh- fuck-” you moan as he shoves himself deeper inside you. His body jerks under you as he barely keeps control. His hands lock on your hips and force you down while you grind hard to keep him buried. “Please- please- please,” he pants. “I’m- c-close- let me cum.” You bounce faster just to ruin him, and your voice comes out wrecked in his ear. “Do it- h-hngh…” He whines and presses his face into your neck while broken sounds fall out of him. His hips thrust up on reflex and make you feel every movement of his cock while he hangs on by nothing.

“I-I can’t… ahhh… please…” he pants with his voice breaking up. You lean down and press your mouth to his ear when you whisper, “Then come for me. Give it all.” Your hands hold him flat while your hips slam harder and keep him right on edge. His breath cuts off as his hands grab at your hips, trying to pull you down, but you keep him pinned. His body jerks hard before he loses it. His hips drive up into you again and again while his cock hits deep inside your wet cunt. His moans fall out broken while he shoves his face into your neck and pants against your skin. The way he bucks up into you is sloppy and desperate while his cock is buried deep.

He cums deep inside you while his body jerks and spills as you clamp around him and ride him through it without stopping. Your chest moves hard while you try to catch your breath, and your head tips back. “Fuck… you feel so good,” you murmur, and your voice comes out rough and uneven. His hands grip your hips to keep you there, and he jerks under you again as a broken sound pulls out of him. You press your palms into his chest, then keep rocking on him slower just to feel him twitch inside you.

His eyes clamp shut while his jaw sets hard, and he bites down, trying not to lose it, but your body keeps working him and forces every sound out of him whether he wants it or not. Your pussy soaks him while he keeps pulsing deep inside you. A short, breathy laugh slips out of you because you are worn out and breathing hard as you lean down and brush your mouth over his shoulder. “You okay there?” you whisper. Your voice stays soft and teasing while watching him squirm. His grip tightens once before it lets go slowly, and he lets out a long breath like he is pulling himself back together.

“I… yeah… just you,” his voice barely holds together. You rock back harder this time because you want to feel him push through you. Every twitch hits right after. Your fingers dig into his skin to hold yourself in place while his body shakes under you and gives you everything he has left. You come hard while riding him, and every thrust makes your body jerk as he empties into you. You clamp tight around him while he breaks under you. His breath comes ragged as he tries to talk, but can’t get the words out.

“God… you’re insane,” he finally mutters while shaking under you. You drop your forehead to his chest, then stay pressed there. Your bodies slide together, and the wet sound stays loud. His breath comes out rough. You keep moving, and he lifts just enough to follow without taking control. His sounds fill the room. Sweat runs down both of you and leaves you slick and sticky. You lean back with your hair stuck to your forehead and grin down at him.

“So messy,” you tease as you press your chest to his and drop your weight hard on him. He twitches under you repeatedly with a broken sound before he yanks you closer with his arms locked tight around your waist like he can’t let you pull away. You rock once more on instinct, but stop the second his grip clamps harder. You stay there panting with your skin slick against his. His body finally gives out under you, and he slumps back into the headboard. “Do not move,” he mutters into your shoulder. It’s not commanding, but sounds desperate, like he needs you stuck right there.

You stay right there and grin. “I am not the one clinging,” you say lightly as you roll your hips just enough to drag another sound out of him. His head falls back against the headboard, and his eyes stay shut tight. “You are heavy.” You lift your head just enough to look at him. “Rude.” One eye opens a crack. “I mean that in a good way.” You snort and lean down again, then scrape your fangs slowly along his jaw without breaking skin. Just enough pressure to make his whole body go tight. He freezes right away. “Oh,” you say softly. “Aw. Look at that. Still feeling sensitive.”

His hands tighten again. “You did that on purpose.” You trace your teeth down to his throat and hover right where he jumps. “Obviously.” You stay there until his breath stutters under you. Then you pull back smiling like you know exactly what you did. “Relax. If I wanted to bite you, you would already know.” He lets out a long, dramatic exhale. “You enjoy this way too much.” You rest your forehead against his again, pressing your weight into him. “And you love pretending you do not.” He opens his eyes this time and locks onto you. “Next time,” he says slowly, “I am not letting you sit there smiling like that.”

You laugh and lean back just enough to make him keep looking. “Next time you say that, too.” His mouth twitches. “Yeah. And yet.” You stay on his lap pressing down instead of pulling away, and choose not to answer. He seems fine with you staying put with your bodies stuck together and breathing hard. You stay on his lap, letting his hands keep you right where you are. He doesn’t care that both of you are sticky and sweaty because that closeness gets under his skin almost as much as the sex. It’s where he wants you the most.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀ twenty-twenty-five © addie / musingsofheaven.

⠀⠀

“You know I’m not going to do that.” He sighed, his stomach aching. His last pint had gone faster than he expected when you two agreed to go on a weekend trip. There were no local vampire dens he was aware of, and large enough animals in the city to hold him over. 

A pout formed on your face, crawling across the bed over to him. “You just expect to get through the whole night like this? And the drive home tomorrow?” 

He just nodded, watching the way your back arched in the chemise that covered your body. The swell of your ass peeking out from the sheer fabric. “I’ll be f-fine-” He cut off with a cough, his throat dry and scratchy. He’d have to endure it; he’s been in worse situations. He would be fine; you needed to let this go. 

“Will you at least kiss me?” You sighed, a devilish look still plastered to your face as you straddled his lap. His body was nude despite the boxers he donned. Out of instinct, his hands gripped your hips, your core hovering over the rigid outline of his ever-growing hard-on. 

“You have ulterior motives.” He whispered, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, deepening the kiss, quickly prying his mouth open with your own. Your tongue swirling around his mouth, lingering on his fangs that refused to retract. 

Of course, he was right, you did have ulterior motives. All you wanted was for him to feed from you, to feel your life force sustain him. 

“B-baby. You know they’re gonna be out until I feed.” He grumbled, his hand reaching around to palm your ass, massaging the flesh there. 

One of your hands came up to drop the strap of your dress off your shoulders, letting your tits hit the cool air. You swept your hair behind your ear, leaning your neck out towards him. “Then feed. Please.” You all but begged, slick gathering between your legs. You wanted to sustain him, to give him the final piece of your body you could. You wanted to be his in every sense of the word. 

He let out a shaky breath, leaning his head down. Every time he got closer, your breath hitched, preparing yourself for the sensation. Instead of the sharp prick of fangs, he pressed gentle kisses on the skin. One of his hands was moving underneath your dress, his thumb swiping at the arousal that was pooling between your legs. 

“You really want this, don’t you?” He whispered, using the pad of his fingers to rub small circles onto your clit, spreading the wetness around messily. 

Your head was now resting against his shoulder, mewling into his skin. “I want you. Want you to have me.” 

“I got you, baby.” He cooed, slipping a finger inside you, letting his thumb rub small circles on your clit. With each heavy pant, he could smell the blood rushing to your cheeks. His cock was throbbing in his underwear, precum staining the top of his boxers. All he could do was watch in amazement and in hunger as you came apart on his fingers, letting out pornographic moans of his name. Begging him for more, begging him to rip your flesh apart and consume you. 

“Clark.” You whimpered, watching him bring his fingers up to his mouth, licking away your release off his fingers. You reached down to his boxers, pulling his cock out just enough to where you could sink down on top of him. Both of you groaning in symphony when your hips met, his cock brushing against your sweet spot. No matter how many times you took him, his size always took your breath away. 

“Always feel so fucking good.” His hips stuttered, hands gripping your ass like a lifeline when you began to drag yourself up and down. Taking him slow and deep. The sensation making your head falling back in ecstasy. With each heavy pant of his name, Clark could feel his composure slipping, between the feeling of your wet cunt squelching around him and the sensation of your blood rushing around your veins. 

“Baby,” He winced as his fangs came down into his lip harshly, “Baby, you gotta get off or I’m gonna hurt you.” 

Just a taste, he told himself, but he knew it would never be just that. Not with you. 

“No, you’re not.” You moaned, pulling him closer each time he tried to lean back. “I trust you. I trust you with my life.” 

“Fuck.” He let out a pathetic whimper, pulling your body taut to his. His resolve is crumbling right before your very eyes. His fangs pierce through the thin flesh of your neck. You winced on impulse, feeling the blood leak from your wounds into his mouth. His throat bobbed with each swallow. You never once stopped your movements, continuing to bounce yourself silly on his cock. There were stars behind your eyes at the overwhelming sensations, your cunt fluttering around him. 

You fell slack against him, the headrush making you dizzy. He braced his feet on the sheets, fucking up into you when your movements stalled. The messy sounds of his balls slapping against your cunt mixed with the gurgled moans as he drank. The moment he tasted you on his tongue, he was addicted; every nerve in his body was on fire. 

Your hands were in his hair, murmuring sweet nothings to him. “Yes, baby. I love you. Good boy.” You managed out in breathless whispers, unable to give a warning as you came around him. Creaming around his cock with a shout. At this, he detached from your neck, holding you close as he continued fucking up into you like a doll. Your body his to be used however he deems fit as he reached his own peak. He came with a grunt, messily licking up each drop of spilt blood off your skin. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay, baby, I promise.” You slurred, reassuring him before he even checked. Your pulse slowed, the blood loss making your eyes flutter shut. 

He pulled out of you with a wince, laying you against the pillows softly. While your vision faded in and out, he came back with a juice box and an array of snacks, plopping them down on the bed. 

“Need to get your sugar up, honey, come on.” Panic laced his voice; all you could do was giggle. Your body had never felt so alive, your cunt full of his cum while he was full of your blood. When you did finally open your eyes, his skin looked warmer, more flushed. His eyes are brighter than before. 

“Told you I’d be fine. We should do that again.” You yawned, entertaining him by nibbling on a cookie while he helped clean you up. 

“I almost went too far, gosh, what if I hadn’t stopped-” You cut off his rambling with a gentle kiss to his lips. “But you did.” You reminded him. 

“Besides, that might have been the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” You admitted, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. “I wouldn’t be upset if we did that every once and a while.” 

“I’m gonna marry you.” He sighed dreamily, hand cupping your cheeks. “I mean, I still have to get a ring, and obviously I’ll make it more romantic than this, but-” 

You were of course apprehensive, how couldn’t you be? You actually liked Clark. Hundreds of years you’d spent on earth, blazing through lovers and cities and identities, but Clark was a rare one. He was actually tolerable. If you fed on him, it ran the risk of not being able to stop and draining him entirely. 

“Clark, I don’t know, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you sighed, taking a deep breath and looking away from his arm, trying to focus on literally anything else but the sound of his veins pumping. He would be so sweet, you could smell him, but it wasn’t worth it.

“Honey, I swear to you, I can take it. I’ve taken a lot worse than some bites. Besides, I’m not like a regular human! I’m not human at all! We’re more alike than you’re letting on, hon. It won’t hurt me, you won’t hurt me. And if it does get to that point, I’m more than capable of pulling you away from me.”

There was an awkward silence in the room as you pondered his pleas. Just once. One time wouldn’t be so bad. Clark was a fast healer anyways, right? He could take it. He was a big boy.

“Fine. Just a little bit, just enough for tonight, okay?”

The smile he gave you after that was sickeningly sweet, the adorable bastard. His dimples deepened in his cheeks, his teeth glimmered under the low light of the living room, of course he was ecstatic. He was a little painslut even if he refused to admit it.

“You’re sure you want this?” you whisper as you take a seat next to him on the couch, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and bringing it up to your mouth. He gave a shaky nod, swallowing thickly.

“Y-yeah, honey. I want this, I’m all yours.”

With the smell of his blood wafting into your nose, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You opened your mouth, letting out a low growl as your fangs extended and sunk into his skin. 

He was so sweet, you couldn’t help but let out a small groan of satisfaction against his skin. It was the sweetest blood you’d ever tasted, Kryptonian blood was one of a kind.

You’d heard many sounds come from those you’d feed on: cries, screams, gasps, but Clark let out a sound new to you. He moaned. He couldn’t hold back the most pornographic moan you’d ever heard in your entire life, and that was saying a lot. 

Your eyes, now glowing red, flickered up to him, and that’s when you saw it. He was hard. Rock hard. Leaking through his sweats already. How he got so hard when you were sucking the blood out of him was a mystery, but he was hard. 

He twitched as you continued sucking the blood out of him, letting out whimpers and moans. Once you felt the rush of hunger subside, you finally pulled away, licking over the bite wound to soothe it, and he just let out the most pathetic whine ever when your teeth extracted from him.

“Jeez, Kent,” you pant as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, smearing his blood onto it. He looked like he just had the craziest fuck of his life. He was sweating, slumped against the couch cushions, his eyes slightly crossed, drool dripping down to his chin. He was beautiful. 

And then when he looked down and saw you in your true form, his blood coating your face, he couldn’t hold back a whimper or the twitch of his hips, a twitch that made him go beet red. 

You both looked down at the same time, and sure enough, he came in his pants, the stain over his crotch visible through his gray sweats. “Who would’ve thought? Superman is into pain,” you chuckle, licking your lips as your hands come to rest on his thighs.

“‘S not my f-fault,” Clark whined softly, avoiding your gaze. “I dunno, it just.. felt good.”

“Yeah? Look at me, Clark,” you whispered lowly, nudging his jaw with your knuckles to force him to look at you. “Don’t play stupid with me, baby, I know you knew damn well that you’d be into it. If you would’ve just told me that you’re a whore for pain from the beginning, I would’ve done this much, much sooner.”

You moved to straddle his lap at that, rubbing your knee over his clothed cock. His body convulsed at that, still sensitive from his earlier orgasm. But Clark was a good boy, he was obedient. Whatever way you wanted to play with him, he’d allow it.

You leaned in to kiss down his neck now, trailing down one of the protruding veins. Your knee remained against his bulge, rubbing him back to full mast under his boxers. “I’m still a little hungry… you wouldn’t mind if I went for seconds, right?” you coo against his skin.

“N-no, ma’am,” Clark stammered out, his body tensing up as you continued to tease him. “You can have as much as you w-want.”

You bit into his neck at that, your hand moving to slip under the waistband of his sweats at the same time. He moaned again, louder, his body jerking forward, but your other hand planted on his chest, holding him down with your vampiric strength.

“Shh, honey, that’s it. Be a good boy and relax,” you whisper before digging in, draining the sweet sweet blood from his neck. Meanwhile, your hand was now under his boxers, slowly stroking him.

“H-holy mother of pearl,” Clark gasped out, whimpering pathetically at the dual stimulation from both your teeth and your palm. “C-can’t hold back, baby.. ‘m gonna c-cum—”

His hips jerked beneath you, his palm flying up to his lips to silence his embarrassing cries, his other hand remaining planted on your thigh to have some sort of anchor to reality. But you were quick to nudge his arm away from his mouth. 

“Mm-mm, Clarkey, I wanna hear all your pretty sounds for me,” you whisper, lapping up the last few dribbles of blood that came out of his neck.

“O-ohh, gosh, please… please, I c-can’t—”

“Sure you can, honey,” you giggle, kissing over the bite mark on his skin. You closed your palm over the tip of his cock, harshly rubbing down, making Clark nearly scream in pleasure. “Just a little longer for me, don’t you wanna be a good boy?”

He nodded furiously, his brows knit together and his eyes screwed shut. His abs tensed up, his entire body taut as he fought to hold back.

“That’s it, such a good boy for me. Say it. Say you’re my good boy, my little pain-slut,” you coo with a giggle, nipping at his neck. Your hand now jerked his whole cock, flicking your wrists with your movements, making sure you got all of him. 

“Uh-huh… ‘m a g-good boy, I’m your good boy,” Clark moaned out, leaning his head into your touch. His hands moved to tightly grip your arm—not enough to hurt, but just enough to ground himself.

He swallowed thickly, letting out a shaky exhale before continuing. “I-I’m a p-pain-slut… for you, only you. Gosh, honey… needa… needa cum—”

“Oh, yeah? Why don’t you cum for me, baby? Why don’t you just make a mess for me? I know you can do it, baby, come on,” you moaned into his ear, and that was all he needed. 

With the most beautiful moan of your name, Clark let go. He erupted in his boxers, what felt like gallons of cum shooting out of his cock and coating your fist. You jerked him off slowly through it, milking out every last drop until he was spent.

“There you go, honey. That’s it. Here you go, why don’t you clean it up? Replenish your energy,” you chuckle, bringing your cum-coated fist up to his lips and like a dog, he licked it clean, moaning as he did so. He truly became such a whore when he was around you, it was like he was a totally different person.

Gone was the shy loser Clark, and out came the absolute slut that got off on pain, but it was a good thing. He felt safe around you, and that in and of itself was the greatest honor one could have.

You leaned in to kiss all over his face and stroke his hair as he came down from his orgasm, his body occasionally twitching as he let out shaky pants.

“I told you I could—golly—h-handle it,” Clark weakly chuckled out, meeting your lips for a peck. 

“That’s what you call handling it?” you chuckled against his lips, moving off his lap to fetch him some water.

“Hey, honey?” he called out, and you hummed in response.

“Next time you’re hungry just.. just let me know, I’ll be here f-for you,” he panted out, chugging down the water as soon as you handed it over to him.

“Oh, I’m sure you will be, Clark.”

He couldn’t even form complete thoughts as the car door opened, your fingers tightening on top of his. You slide in the passenger seat, throwing a cheeky grin at him. You didn’t even let him close the door for you, as you shut it by yourself.

Clark stood outside in the cold night air, staring at you from the window. He cannot believe that just happened.

For once in his life, he didn’t open the door for his date.

The same thing happened when he dropped you off at your apartment. You didn’t even think twice before opening the car door yourself as Clark scrambled out of his seat, racing to open it before you did.

He failed.

But it’s okay, cause you’re pretty and you smell nice, and you’re wearing this giddy smile, eyes a little tired but still sparkling. He stared down at you, with a matching grin and twinkling eyes.

A moment passed, “See you tomorrow?” Clark dumbly asks.

You nod and bite your lip, tummy flipping with excitement and nerves, “See you tomorrow, Clark.”

.

.

.

The past few weeks of seeing Clark has been…nice. He’s sweet, thoughtful and very nice to look at. So when accidentally you snapped at him, you were sure he didn’t want to see you ever again. 

The summer heat is nipping at your skin, you had been stressing out about the printer since morning, the ancient machine that the Daily Planet has kept in store for ‘memories’ will be the death of you.

“Fuck— fucking stupid machine, shit—“

“You need some help there?”

You jump at the sudden voice, butterflies appearing in your stomach as you realise who it belonged to.

“This thing is pissing me off.” you grumble, not even looking at Clark, too busy glaring at the printer in front of you.

The man chuckles, leaning against the wall with hands tucked in his pants pockets as his eyes shamelessly trails over your figure.

“You look pretty.” he absentmindedly said.

The sudden compliment made you freeze your banging on the machine. Finally turning to meet his eyes, with a few strands of hair covering your vision. You tucked them behind your ear.

Because of your frustration at the machine, the small printing room has gotten more hot, which made you more agitated. So, you had put your hair up in a very messy bun, hair coming out in all sorts of directions, two buttons on your top were undone, giving Clark a nice view of your collarbone and a tiny glimpse of your cleavage. He swallowed hard as you fully turned to him.

"I'm a mess." you chuckle, hand resting on your full hips, head tilting to the side.

You look hot and bothered, your cheeks a little pink, your smile is teasing, and your hips are tantalising him. It's making his brain short circuit.

You, successfully making Superman weak in the knees.

He shrugs, hand scratching the back of his neck and awkwardly coughs, "My statement still stands."

Huffing, you face the machine again, "Go back to work Clark, or did you come here just to bother me?"

Clark moves inside the tiny room, his huge figure taking in half of the capacity. You could feel his body heat as he comfortably stood behind you, looking over your shoulder. Stomach flipping when you feel his slow and steady breathing.

"Do you know what's wrong with it?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be here, would I?" you accidentally snapped, eyes widening in horror. Oh no, he's going to hate you. "Sorry. I'm just annoyed and it's so hot in here and—“

His deep laugh stops you from continuing, "It's alright," he shakes his head, "I shouldn't have stressed you out more."

You sigh, guilt eating up your senses. You liked having here with you. He brings a sense of comfort, safety, calmness. He doesn't deserve your little outburst.

Clark sensed the air getting thicker with tension, so he clears his throat, backing up from your personal space, "I can call Jimmy to help you out-"

"It's okay, I got it." you rushed out. Hand clutching tightly at the edge of the printer. You cannot fail this. Don't embarrass yourself.

Clark nodded awkwardly, lingering on the door for a second too long, gazing at you with a certain look before hesitantly leaving you in your little room.

As you hear his footsteps retract, your shoulders slumped in relief, the guilt never once leaving your system.

"Stupid fucking machine."

.

.

.

Turns out Clark doesn’t hate you. 

You have been going steady and now have created a little routine. The grocery runs has been fun, a routine that you two have made after 1 month of dating. Restocking in your respective place every first Saturday of the month, has been consistent.

“Aw, you two lovebirds are too cute.” the cashier complimented, “You match each other very well.”

Your cheeks turn warm, hands occupied by putting the groceries in the bags. Glancing at Clark to see his reaction, your stomach flutters when you see his adorable dimples. A shy smile stretching over his face.

He clears his throat, “Thank you, ma’am.” eyes shifting to yours. Fond, warm, and very much in a daze. 

You quietly giggled, sending the cashier a quick smile before leaving the store. 

Clark falls in step beside you, nudging your shoulder, “She said we look like we’re made for each other.” he shyly muttered. 

You raised your eyebrows, glancing at him from the side, “She didn’t say all of that.” you smirk.

He shrugs, “I filled in the blanks.” his voice soft. 

Your heart stutters. 

Two heavy recycle bags settle in your arms as you try to balance them using your hips. Clark immediately took note of your fidgeting, and quickly moved his hand to grab the bottom of the bags, helping you stabilise yourself. 

“Clark, I got it.” you grumble.

The tall man sighed, almost ripping the bags out of your hands. If anyone looked for too long it was like he was trying to steal them.

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he deeply sighed, fingers pressing against his eyebrows, “but I can do it. Do you see these guns?” he jokes, flexing his biceps close to your face. You laughed. He’s so silly. 

Clark was also carrying his 2 bags of groceries, which is why you do not want him to carry yours. It’s yours. Why would you inconvenience him?

But Clark was adamant, Clark’s other fingers securely tucked in near your wrist where the bag handle is.

You playfully roll your eyes, “Back off, Kent.”

He gasps— loud, dramatic and offended, “I can’t believe you just called me Kent.”

You affectionately rolled your eyes and pushed past him, almost sprinting to the car so that he couldn’t keep up.

Oh, but Clark definitely could.

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head fondly at how stubborn you are. But you’re already opening the back trunk, organising your bags in. He underestimated your dedication, sighing softly with a giddy smile on his face, definitely his girl.

.

.

.

This particular day has been awful.

You’re suffering from writer's block and can’t find to type out any good comments and sentences. Everything you created sounded bleak, bland, boring and Perry has been waiting for a piece from you for days.

When he came to your desk, you gave him a thousand apologies, and Perry looked at you sadly… disappointed, if you would add.

“Should I give this to Cat to cover?”

“No!” you stood up abruptly, chair squeaking and making a few heads turn to you. You could feel a pair of specifically worried eyes on your back, “I got it. I promise. I will have this ready by tomorrow.”

Perry sighed, head nodding slowly, “Alright kid, I trust your abilities but tomorrow is final.” he stated, walking away.

You gripped the edge of your table, fingers twitching and heart suddenly pounding in your chest, “Fuck.” your breathing starts to pick up. 

No, no, no. Please, not now.

Your feet moved before you could think and Clark was up on his feet the second he could hear your uneven breathing. Going to the only place he knows you would go. 

The air on the roof is cold, the sky is so blue it reminds you of someone. But your chest starts to tighten, your vision starts to blur and sweat is forming behind your neck and hairline. 

“Please, please–” sobs start to wreck your body, and your feet are now all wobbly. 

Clark could hear everything from the elevator and it made his stomach drop and eyebrows furrow, as he fidgeted in the small metal box, “Why is it moving so slow—” he angrily muttered to himself, fingers aggressively pressing the button level repeatedly. Not caring the weird stares people are giving him.

The rooftop door violently swung open, so hard it almost flew off its hinges and you knew immediately who was on the other side.

“Clark, leave me alone.” you turn, not letting him see you. Your voice sounded so small, it tore his heart in two and he’s supposed to be indestructible. 

He takes small steps closer to you, “I’m sorry, pretty, but there is no way I’m leaving you up here alone.”

"I got it, it's okay." your voice trembles, lips quivering.

Clark huffed, standing straighter, "No." he clenched his jaw, he sounded... angry.

You glance at him through your teary eyes, "What–?"

"Stop saying that line."

You scoff, "What line?"

Clark stares at you with wide eyes, like the audacity of you to even question that insane, "Your 'I got it' line."

Your stomach drops as your sniffling continues. 

He deeply breathes out, moving to stand directly behind you, hands placed on your hips to turn you to face him fully. His thumbs softly caressing your shirt covered waist.

He leaned down, eyes trying to meet yours, "Look at me." he softly mutters.

Your eyes were fixated on the floor for a couple more seconds before they met his ones. Him and his soft, apologetic, blue eyes. Your breathing slows down.

He stares at you for a moment, searching, evaluating, you don’t even know.

But you would never guess what he was going to say.

"I. Got. You." he states, a pause in between every word. It wasn’t an opinion, it wasn't a joke, it's a statement. A fact. Like the nature of it is embedded in him, "Okay?"

Your lips wobbled, nose twitching and a new fresh of tears making their appearance on your eye line. Panicked eyes staring into his ones, trying to come into terms in what he just uttered out of his mouth.

"I will be here, with you." Clark continues, his hand now moving up to brush your falling tears away, "You can try to push me away but you need to call some reinforcements because I am not budging. You understand me?"

Slowly your arms moves to wrap around him, head tucking in his warm chest. "You got me?" your voice hoarse, his heart sinks seeing you tightly shut your eyes and hearing the hesitance in your tone.

His big arms wrapped tightly around your frame, hands softly caressing your back, "Of course, sweetheart. Always."

“Thank you.”

“My baby.” he sighs, emotional and heavy. His head tucking in your neck as he holds you tighter, “No need to thank me.”

“You make me feel so safe.” your trembling voice continues, a new wave of tears making you choke up.

Clark’s stomach flutters and drops at the same time.

For the strongest man alive, he sure feels pretty useless right now.

Because what has happened before that made you need to say that outloud? He thought it was given? He’s your boyfriend?

He doesn’t dwell on it for long, “I can help you with your paper.” he suggests, pulling your face out of his chest, his large hand on your jaw, thumb softly brushing your skin. 

“Clark—“

“I swear to God if you say—“

You giggled. Clark’s eyes widens at your beautiful voice, goosebumps appearing on his skin. 

“I was gonna say, ‘Yes, I would love your help’.” your voice turned down to a whisper, “Save me, Clark Kent.”

Clark grins, the tears are still in your eyes, some running down your cheeks but your eyes are a little bit brighter, your voice a little lighter, your breathing evening out and you’re still hugging him.

It makes him melt.

“I got you, baby. Don’t worry.”

Now Clark is making it his sole mission to take care of you.