selene

Nerd Clark who thinks you're friends.

Nerd Clark who has no idea how bad your intentions are. That you hardly want friendship from him. What you want is for him to ruin you.

Nerd Clark who watches you stare at him, thinking its a loving look on your face except your eyes are raking over his body thinking about how soft those curls would feel under your palms, how those glasses would fog up when you have him panting under you, how those massive ridges of muscles would ripple when he's thrusting into you and how those veins would feel if you traced it with your tongue.

Nerd Clark who snaps you out of your wild imagination with a snap of his fingers and you're left breathless and wet in the office in the middle of the day.

Nerd Clark who believes your excuse of not feeling well when you look all red and leave for home early.

Nerd Clark who would never know that you spent that night riding your vibrator pretending it to be him, moaning his name out loud until your walls have it memorised. (I meant bedroom walls, what're you even thinking, you dirty minded duckling)

Nerd Clark who's all shy when you kiss him for the first time. All nervous smiles and fumbling hands as his lips move over yours in a slow rhythm.

Nerd Clark whose glasses nugde against your nose when he leans in for a second kiss, much to his annoyance but only until you end up giggling against his mouth.

Nerd Clark who does not understand why you're so keen on him leaving his glasses on during the kiss even when it's in the way.

Nerd Clark who you think would be shy and soft and sweet in bed and turns out he's anything but.

Nerd Clark who has you pinned against the door the moment you close it after getting home.

Nerd Clark whose hungry eyes, dilated pupils, and shameless strokes of his fingers under your shirt surprise you in the best way becuase where did that shy nerd go who was nervous to kiss you?

Nerd Clark who has known everything since the beginning and still let you work for him, and yearn for him, all this time.

Nerd Clark whose voice is possesive and dark and rough when he leans in close to your ear and whispers “You've been testing my patience, baby” before his mouth is on you.

Nerd Clark who revels in watching you all shocked and dumbfounded at knowing how his shy personality just switches off around you.

Nerd Clark who has the filthiest mouth on him and loves to rile you up “Why do you look so dumb baby? Were’nt you the one who invited me here?”

Nerd Clark who chuckles against your lips when you have no words left and you decide kissing him would be the appropriate response.

Nerd Clark who picks you up like you weigh no more than a pillow before he trudges toward your bedroom.

Nerd Clark who takes his sweet time with you. Kissing his way down your body, worshipping every inch of skin revealed.

Nerd Clark who you know is gone when his eyes zeroe in on your tits, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips before his mouth is on you. Warm and wet and so fucking desperate as he laps at your skin, nipping your nipple with his teeth ever so slightly to draw out those quiet gasps and whines you make for him.

Nerd Clark who spends way too much time fondling your tits, only stopping when they're tender and red from the assault his mouth put them through. He finally moves on with a whine when he sees you whimper at the overstimulation, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to both of your breasts like they're something living and could feel his affection.

Nerd Clark whose mouth is a weapon of mass destruction and you somehow have the misfortune (or should I say, fortune?) of being his target.

Nerd Clark who laps at your pussy like a man starved. Holding your thighs apart with those chiseled arms of his while he attacks your clit with little kitten licks. Giving only enough for you to writhe beneath him.

Nerd Clark who works you patiently, drawing your pleasure out until you snap on his tongue with his name loud in your mouth and your body convulsing around him.

Nerd Clark who let's you harshly tug at his hair as the force of your climax consumes you whole. He doesn't so much as whine in complaint when your thighs all but suffocate him with how tight they're wrapped around his neck, shoving his face deeper into you.

Nerd Clark who has almost all of his face shiny with your release when he crawls back up to you. The sight stealing all air out of your lungs becuase holy shit is this a sight to see. You're pretty sure you'd pay good amount of money for just another moment to watch him like this again.

Nerd Clark who has you losing your mind on his fingers next “This what you were thinking about that day, sweetheart?” He says as he curls his fingers slightly, hitting the spot that makes you cry out and confessing your ugly fantasies to him.

Nerd Clark who revels in the fact that he's got you so worked up you don't even know what you're confessing.

Nerd Clark who makes the mistake of trying to take off his fogged glasses to avoid losing the sight of you. Much to your displeasure as you shove them back on.

“Baby, I can't see you with these on” he punctuates between kisses, of course he wants the glasses off. Who would be dumb enough to not want to see you, all naked and flushed and moaning for him?

Nerd Clark who realises you have a very specific kink when he sees your reluctance to let the glasses leave his face.

Nerd Clark who slides them upward instead, letting the black frame rest in his hair like a little tiara and god if it doesn't drive you crazy.

Nerd Clark who can see the shift in your energy at that in the way your eyes go dark, and can't wait another moment before he's inside you.

Nerd Clark who is big enough to hurt even after he's stretched you out. And damn it if he isn't proud about it. “Am I too big for you, baby?” He teases, inching inside slowly, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him. “You're just a tiny little thing, aren't you?”

Nerd Clark who becomes utterly insufferable when he watches his cock slide all the way into you “Look at you, sweetie. All stretched out on my cock”

Nerd Clark who makes you think you've descended to heaven when he starts to move becuase surely a feeling like this doesn't exist in this universe.

Your hips rock up themselves, meeting his every thrust as endless curses spill from his lips, emphasising how good you feel around him, how perfect.

You let the praise wash over you and drive you closer to the climax.

Nerd Clark who is dominant and unrestrained but never rough enough to hurt. Always looking for signs of discomfort and monitoring your micro expressions to see if you're hurting.

Nerd Clark who doubles down when he hears your sounds pitching higher. His hands make their way to your knees pushing them toward you, making the angle steeper and hitting that deep spot inside you.

Nerd Clark who praises you through it when he sees how you react to it

“Such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“Taking my cock so well”

“You're gonna come for me? You gonna be a good girl?”

It makes your skin prickle, fingers tremble and toes curl into the mattress as you bite down on his shoulder to muffle the cry that tears out of you as your orgasm swallows you completely.

Nerd Clark whose thrusts grow erratic when he feels your warm walls convulsing and fluttering around him. The feeling addictive and ruining him at the same time.

His hand find your breasts again “Fuck me, these tits” he grunts, mouth enveloping a nipple as one of his hands grips and massages the other breast as if it is an achor he needs to hold onto to keep himself tethered to you.

Nerd Clark who is loud when he comes. Loud enough that you'll probably have your neighbours complaining tomorrow but your name in his mouth sounds so fucking delicious that you can't bring yourself to care about anything but the fact that you want to hear it again and again and again.

Nerd Clark who cleans you up after. And boy is it a sight to behold. His skin is flushed and glowing with the soft sheen of sweat. His curls all messed up, and you feel a flutter down south knowing its your hands that did that.

There's a shy smile on his face as he's back to the gentle, nerdy part of himself that you so dearly adore.

Nerd Clark who is a cuddler, he pulls you close immediately after he settles onto your bed, rubbing comforting circles on your back making you sleepy in his arms.

And you swear you hear him mumble something like “Sleep good, sweetheart” and soft lips pressing against your forehead before you finally let your eyes close, falling asleep in the arms of the man who you might fall in love with. Especially given everything that happened today. There's no way you're gonna let this be a one time thing.

God! You're thoroughly fucked, aren't you?

Dividers by @diviniyae

Tagging my bucky girlie's just becuase @redstarleftarm, @sweetserendipity65, @sambuckystony, @nymphhbabiee, @darlingdenise, @venigrantrogers, @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger, @bstan01, @phoenix-in-writing, @singulartoast, @danerb67, @onyx8514, @globetrotter28, @buckysdecaflove, @alyssinwunderland-blog-blog, @herejustforbuckybarnes, @v33mustdie, @star-yawnznn, @buckybsdoll

Clark sighs as the elevator door opens up to his office floor, trudging over to his desk and setting his briefcase down. Skips right over to their break room’s coffee maker to brew up a sugary full cup for the day ahead of him. Jimmy gave him a greeting with a rougher pat on the shoulder, jolting Clark in a reactionary shiver when he thinks back to being touched in bed by no one or something while he was withering all alone in his room.

He pushes his glasses up his scrunched up nose, letting out an almost disgruntled sounding hey.

Jimmy squints at him, noticing the offbeat attitude of his close friend and coworker. “You good, man? Sleep alright last night or did somebody take a hot piss in your Froot Loops?”

“Slept… slept fine, it’s just I’m kinda going through stuff right now. I don’t know.”

Clark swallows and stirs his steaming cup after dropping another sugar cube in. Jimmy pats his shoulder once again, trying to get Clark to meet his eyes with a tilt of his head.

“You know… maybe it’s about time.”

“What?”

“You know, dude, maybe it’s that time. Time for you to get yourself laid. I think it could help flush out some of these nerves in your system. You seem so tense. I know a few girls that would hop on that train, if you know what I mean.”

Clark turns beat red rather quickly, taking a long sip to gather his thoughts and come up with a response.

“Yeah you couldn’t have been any more direct actually. I… listen I understand, but it’s not that. Trust me, I’m getting… more than you think. I guess. Cause something like, something happened last night, I don’t even know how to explain it. And I liked….. it. It’s just really weird so maybe now’s not the time to discuss—“

Jimmy laughs a long, boyish giggle and slaps one of Clark’s broad shoulders, pulling Clark further aside into the corner with a look around for any coworkers meandering.

“Dude, I knew it. You found yourself a lady. You’ve been getting some and you haven’t been telling me. That’s really lame of you man, I thought our friendship had no barriers—“

“I haven’t met a— look, okay, it was weird, and I mean really really weird. I don’t know if you’ll understand it or if it’ll just sound crazy.”

“Whatever crazy thing you’re about to say, I’ve probably done crazier,” Jimmy assures with a knowing nod paired with a grin. “Trust me.”

“Uh, okay….” Clark clears his throat and lowers his voice, leaning down to Jimmy’s ear level. “Have—have you ever like, came untouched before? Felt someone…. down there…. even though no one else was in the room?”

Clark stares at Jimmy now, loosening the tie around his collar like he’s already broke out in another sweat just thinking about it. Wondering if it might happen again. If he has some odd guardian angel that likes to fuck him and look after him all at the same time.

“You mean you finished, no hands, completely dry? You’re living the dream. Should be more grateful. Why do you look so terrified right now.”

Clark closes his eyes and pinches his brows in a long sigh before nodding to Jimmy to follow him to the bathrooms after setting his coffee on his desk. With uneasy paranoia he peers down to check for any feet on the floor in the stalls before he continues.

“I… I don’t think you get it. It felt like someone literally rode me, like, put me inside them and came on my dick and everything. I wasn’t doing anything! Wasn’t even hard before it started happening, I was just reading. I don’t know how else to explain this or make it any clearer to you!”

Jimmy looks astounded after every word, awestruck with an open mouth. Even flashes of envy pass through his eyes while he chuckles and shakes his head. Typical Clark and his way of complicating things. Overthinking what truly sounded like a gift. “Sounds like a you’re being haunted by a friendly ghost that just wants to hop on that thing, dude. So what did it really feel like? And can I get one too?”

Clark closes his eyes and his mind goes back to last night. In the comfort of his soft sheets, legs sprawling out and taking over the entirety of his bed. How right when the plot of his novel started taking off he felt almost a tickle. A wiggle of what felt like a smooth, slithery tongue. It was unrecognizable when it started, like maybe he had an itch down there to scratch, or maybe some blood began randomly flowing down south.

When it became unmistakeable, too soft and wet to deny what was happening to him, he slammed his book shut with the bookmark in place and spread his legs wider, feeling the sweat breaking out. Feels his dick happily jump right into the warm invisible hole teasing his tip. He felt the hole clench down and struggle to take him all, slowly inching up and down like a bunny on top of what it could take. He clenched a fist at his side and held his dick up with a thumb, raising his hips gently into the heavenly heat. How the pace it had going stuttered when he did, probably in shock that he had more of himself to give.

Clark remembers crying with pleasure, pre cum getting drained out of him so effortlessly, so smoothly. Drool picks up on his tongue while he’s nearly going cross eyed, the pussy on top of him bouncing harder, bouncing faster—

“It feels— it feels unbelievable. I mean it was incredible,” Clark answers Jimmy’s question that had awkwardly hung in the air. “Haven’t felt anything like it before. Something might be seriously wrong with me.”

Jimmy raises a brow. “Watching too much porn? Just take a break. Meet a girl.”

Clark’s full body shivers, goosebumps now swarming up his arms and the back of his neck, making all the hairs there start to stand up. He feels an eager hand all the sudden grab onto his bare cock and slick their palm down, cold and wet like the hand had a puddle of lube to gloss him down.

If it hasn’t visibly shown up as a wet spot on his groin through his trousers yet, by the feeling of it it’ll start showing a dark spot soon. If he didn’t take his dick out it would surely start a puddle that would only dry as a fresh stain.

Clark takes a deep, shaky breath, turning over to grab onto the tile of the wall, resting his forehead against it and gripping like he’s engulfed in pain. Like his surroundings started spinning all around him.

“Woah, Clark. Dude. Take it easy. What’s happening?”

Jimmy gets closer to check on his friend but Clark can’t take it, shooing him off with a hurried no, it’s fine—just get out of here. I need a second. thanks!

“You sure you’ll be able to hold up the rest of today? You have enough leave. I’m sure Lois would understand—”

“Just, just…. I need to take a— I’ll take a ten, okay,” he whimpers, clutching onto the humiliating bulge growing so fast he already was showing a hefty print. “Maybe a fifteen. I can’t—I don’t know.” The hand stopped slicking up and down his cock and he feels it tease him by rubbing his length up and down a pearly wet slit, not yet having him enter.

He shoos Jimmy away and hurries to a stall, slamming it shut and locking it with his back to the door while his dick bobs around for more of her attention. Tingles sprout in his belly while his whole body starts to tense.

“Uh, okay,” Jimmy mutters. “Well I’ll leave you to it I guess? Here for you buddy. Don’t piss off your ghost girlfriend. Maybe next time she won’t fuck you as good if you do,” he laughs.

“Shut. The door. And shut. Up!” Clark howls, fumbling with his zipper and rushing to roll some toilet paper up into a ball for his tip when he’s hanging out of his boxers. He distantly hears his friend mumble a jeez, so touchy. sorry and the door creaks open and falls closed. With privacy at last, Clark is able to heave and thrust his hips gently into the beautiful, tight wet heat, little abstract murmurs and whimpers leaving his throat while his dick gets wetter, and wetter, and wetter.

“Don’t—Don’t, don’t want you to stop,” he quietly begs. Veins popping on his temple from all the straining his body is doing. “But I… I have to get back to work.”

Whatever is wrapped around his cock doesn’t pay his words any mind, sinking down all the way to his balls and creaming on his base the more they start their rough bouncing. Like they’re angry, like they’re taking everything out on his cock. Clark wished he knew what he did wrong, or maybe what he did right to deserve this kind of treatment from someone he couldn’t even see.

“I’m not gonna last, I’m not, it feels so good…. feels too good…. I can’t handle this again, not right now,” he breathes. Sees his tip bead more floods of pre cum and slip down the base of his cock, getting his balls messy with slick. The sound is obscene, with every up and down motion everything can be heard. How wet the pussy around him really is. How his cock stuffs it all the way through. If somebody came in right now, they would think he’s having real sex with a real body in this stall right now. When in all honestly, Clark doesn’t know what he’s having.

“Oh my gosh, gosh you’re more wet this time, you’re getting it so wet…. You’re gonna get me in trouble, wait…. please.”

The pussy on top of his dick starts to quiver, tremble and squeeze him down harder than before. Like it’s finally found release after a record of an eight minute round of going nuts on him like he’s nothing but a toy built strictly for their use.

Some cum that isn’t even his starts dribbling down on him, and that’s when the floodgates start to open. Clark can’t hold it anymore, and he doesn’t know how bad it’s gonna be trying to both cover his load and then clean it all up.

He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut once again, knuckles turning white while he holds on for dear life and busts another long, drawn out nut into whatever this thing is that’s tortured him yet again. He spits out rope after rope of cum in the waiting piece of balled up paper and tries to catch it all there but a few stray drips do manage to burst out too fast for him to act. He sprays a part of the wall and whines a little no, please, please no, you made me cum too hard again, I need to get back to work.

The come down is always humbling. Seeing exactly how foolish he was acting as the sweat under his arms and on his face visibly stains his clothes and his skin. He managed to wipe off his messy cum lines off the wall and stuffs another rolled up ball of toilet paper down his boxers to soak up whatever else is leftover in his pants.

When he feels ready enough he’s still catching his breath and trying to get his blushing face under control as he heads over to the sink to splash some water on his face. Presses on the soap dispenser over and over again until more than a mountain of soap is bubbling in his palm, lathering his sticky, filthy hands.

Clark fights everything inside him to try and act natural when he heads back to his desk. Ruffles his hair more than necessary, tightens his tie, rolls up his sleeves.

The cup of coffee he’d made had lost most of its heat but Clark was so preoccupied in his head he doesn’t notice, still gulping some down and logging back into his computer to answer more messages and emails that were left for him. His eyes zone in on an email he’d been CC’d in from Jimmy and Lois about an upcoming new hire’s start date for their vacant Office Assistant position.

The email read that Clark would be assigned as the one primarily training her since he’d started out in her exact title position a year ago. Clark adds a thumbs up to the email and closes out of it to start on another assignment, thinking in the very back of his head that if his dick can’t control himself while he’s training said new hire next week he’d be blowing his brains out, not out of his cock next time.

Jimmy side eyes him from across the room, mouthing a you good? much to Clark’s bashful shake of his head, assuring him with a roll of his eyes and a tired response of yeah, I’m fine. shut up.

Lois comes out of the blue up behind him and drops a fat stack of paperwork on Clark’s desk with a tight smile.

“New hire coming in next week. You got my email right?”

Clark nods and leans back in his chair, casual as he can muster.

“She’ll have to mostly rely on you for help and onboarding, since me and Jimmy have too much going on. Travel, deadlines, some new leads finally getting back to us for interviews. So you’ll take her under your wing for us, yeah?”

“Of course. It’s not uh, it won’t be a problem,” he answers under his breath, taking another sorry sip of his lukewarm coffee. He hopes the thing in his pants won’t be a problem.

“You sure? Jimmy said you didn’t look well. You can’t call out and leave her all alone here on her first few days, it’s gonna be overwhelming in the start—“

“Jimmy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m fine. It’ll get taken care of,” he promised.

“Alright, then don’t get her sick, got it?”

Clark wants to slap Jimmy for even bringing up his frazzled state to anybody in the office, mortified over what had taken place barely ten minutes ago, and how unpredictable his dick was gonna act for a while. Or forever. Who even knows at this point.

“My germs are all mine,” he swears, hands defensively up in the air. “Count on it.”

Lois gives him another one of her hard stares that basically told him she’d make him eat his words if he dared showing up to the office coughing, sneezing, puking. Clark was only worried about leaving his desk for twenty minutes at a time to get his dick rode by the same tempting mystical source he had yet to fully identify, let alone begin to understand.

It never left his brain even while he worked, back of his pen stuck in his mouth to chew on while he wrote up more emails and forwarded ones from their general inbox. Hours had gone by until he had about forty five more minutes left until he could be freed and finally head home, and Clark really thought he was in the clear of having another accident during work hours.

That was up until the fucking tease went at it again. The warm, sopping wet tightness wraps around his tip and slips him in, no mercy given. His dick springs back to life effortlessly, and Clark wants to cry.

He holds his head by covering his face with both hands, scooting his swivel chair forward so his crotch was safely hidden underneath. He drools an ungodly amount at the tip, feeling how eager this round was for her, how quickly she ruts against him and has him crying softly into the sleeve of his shirt.

Clark’s mewling and groaning is muffled into his arm, too helpless to hold in any of his noise when they move in sways up and down, switching off between going deep and going shallow with their pushes. Clark is beat red all over again, giving up after several minutes of unabashed torture and shielding his wet crotch with his briefcase pressed up against him, running off back to the toilets this time to sit down and breathe while undeniably enjoying everything being done to him. Fuck the last thirty minutes of his shift. Fuck the emails and the phone calls and the scans and the letters.

Clark shuts his eyes and actually smiles for a change as he eggs on whatever higher power bouncing on top of him to keep going. Nods his head and can’t help his soft murmurings of please, yeah, yeah keep doing that, you do it so good.

It might be his new imaginary best friend, or it might be his first sign to go to a mental hospital. Whatever it was, since it’s made Clark cum this hard, he guessed it couldn’t have mattered too much if it always made him feel this good.

. . .

The weekend was spent the same way. Getting his dick milked while he lied back and screeched every time she squeezed on him some way, somehow. He doesn’t answer anyone that texts him for plans, doesn’t do the dishes or take care of his laundry like how he’d hoped. No. He whines and stutters and cries, barely able to get in the shower without his dick getting trampled on.

It’s not a long shot to think he could be developing something. A mental illness. A haunted curse that plagues him with orgasms at all times of the night and the day. He’s one more round away from calling somebody to perform an exorcism or splash holy water on him to escape this succubus that had to be laughing in his face at how easy he is to rile up.

When Monday comes around again Clark doesn’t want to take any chances traumatizing the new hire with all the blotches of cum stains littering his pants. With a scoff and a sigh he steps each leg into a second pair of boxers to make slightly more effort into covering up. Even packs a backup pair in case both pairs he’s currently wearing are soiled by the end of the day.

After a hectic first hour of scanning and distributing the stack of morning mail from the bin, he slips a stick of gum on his tongue and gnaws on the flavor with his mouth open when an unfamiliar silhouette teeters closer towards the edge of his desk from the entrance.

Clark doesn’t get to looking up until she’s clearing her throat, playing with a strand of her hair with a smile aimed at the ground.

“Hi, sorry if I’m interrupting your work. I’m actually starting today,” she explains, eyeing him up from head to toe. Clark rips his head up at the voice and clears his throat, sitting up straighter and pulls a polite hand out.

“Oh! Oh, yeah that’s right. You’re our new hire. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Clark.”

She takes his hand with a laugh. Clark wished he understood what was funny. He joins in on it anyway, anxiously chuckling while he doesn’t stop shaking her hand in his. Realizing it had been well over ten seconds of her soft palm held up in his own long, gigantic fingers, he slips his hand off of hers, lingering in the awkward air of the moment.

She nods and scans her gaze around, peaking at the state of Clark’s desk. The endless string of sticky notes, the protein shakes, the tie he’d already taken off his neck. “So am I in the right place, or—“

“Yup. Yeah, yeah you found where you should be. I’ve been tasked to uh, help you fill all this out. After that we can get you started on some basics,” he breathes out, pointing to the stack resting on the side of his desk, sticky note on top with her name on it. Clark finds himself trying a little desperately to keep himself more cool, more composed. She’s the kind of pretty that made him nervous, suddenly aware of his undone appearance, of every awkward move he makes. He stops chewing his gum with as much rigor, clenches his jaw and scratches the back of his neck.

“I started out in the position you’re in, it’s real easy to move up,” he mentions, gathering up the paperwork and attempting to straighten it out before a quarter of the pages fall from his grasp in a pile. Beat red, Clark doesn’t do anything but stare at the ground and sigh before sheepishly joining in on her laughs.

“You’re pretty organized, aren’t you?” she chuckles, bending over to pick up the few documents that landed on the floor. Clark’s jaw even drops when he catches the smallest glimpse of her hot pink colored thong poking up above from her dress pants.

“Yeah. Yeah I really am, you know. Organization is key,” he nods, tight lipped smile still on his face. He takes the pages she hands him over, watching her subtly arch her head to smell something in the air. Fuck. What the fuck? Did he even put on any cologne this morning after draining his dick for the hundredth time?

Before he could shoot himself in the head with more irrational insecurities his mind makes up she soothed his very visible worry with another laugh and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Is it me? Do I reek like sweat or something—?”

“No, no. You don’t smell bad, you’re fine. I was just trying to figure out if you were chewing Spearmint or not,” she assures. “I like it. Promise. You do not reek of anything,” she snorted through another laugh. Clark beams, looking around everywhere but her face. Afraid his face could give his every fleeting thought away.

Thank god. “Uh, oh yeah. Yeah it’s Spearmint. You want a piece? I have a new pack,” he offers. To his surprise, she snatches up a piece out of his hand hardly before he gets to offer it to her. Blinks dumbly while she opens it up and tears the piece in half, stuffing one in her mouth and giving the other half back to him.

“Uh—“

She smiles at him, chewing the gum out of one side of her cheek. “I have this oral thing. A fixation I guess. Chewing or having something in my mouth really helps me.”

The thing about Clark is, he has manners. Has restraint. Thought he was a good boy that didn’t go on and chase any tail that came into his orbit. Especially not a new pretty co-worker. He doesn’t want to think about putting different parts of himself inside her mouth just to calm her down. Or the color of her thong. Or that wicked smile and addicting perfume to match. Something tries to draw him in closer, reason with his conscience like she’s teasing little signals, it’s not like you’re her boss or anything. if you flirt back no one would know a thing.

Clark stops his zoning out and nods his head to agree. “I get it. Having stuff in my… in my mouth cools me off too. Like—like stress.”

“You shouldn’t worry yourself that much. Seems like you’re wound up pretty tight.”

He feels like there’s this window into his thoughts standing clear as day right above his head, broadcasting every fleeting thought or mood. When he tries to look at her, stare at her back the same way she stares at him, he just wanted to run away before his own dick caught up with him.

Clark scratches his chin and sheepishly nods with his head down, agreeing with a gentle mumble, yeah you know, just normal stuff, kinda on edge. Not like he randomly cums in his pants or anything. He quickly finds a way to change subjects by directing his focus back to the work left in front of them and guides her to sit over at her new desk to fill out some new hire paperwork. She taps him on the shoulder and grins when she says his name to ask him questions. He dutifully answers everything he can, emails some higher ups to get her logins to some of their systems and trains her how they go through their mail and answer consumer’s inquiries over the phone.

She takes just about everything in a stride. Overwhelmed of course by certain things that have nuances and will take more time getting used to. Clark introduces her to more staff, waves to Lois, makes the new hire her own cup of coffee after showing her their break room. Jimmy tries to raise a brow, even wiggles both of them up and down at him from behind her back, but it only makes Clark kick him in the shin and gruffly threaten him under his breath as he’s passing by while she wasn’t looking.

Clark sends her off to her first break, telling her to meet him back at her desk for more training later. Watches absentmindedly as she picks up her purse, snatched up a lighter from one of the pockets and stuck a cigarette behind her ear, waving goodbye and strolling out to the elevator doors. Before the elevator doors close he could see her take the stick from her ear and put it between her lips, probably a habit she’s picked up from that oral thing, Clark figured. He wants to stop himself from picking apart her business but he’s too intrigued to stop, still lost in thought at his desk while he takes a break of his own.

After spitting his piece of gum out he chugs a few thick swigs of his protein shake, spaced out in blank thought. A corner of his mouth smiles when he feels the other half of that stick of gum she’d torn off and given back. His dick twitches but ultimately stayed soft, undetected in his pants. He’d shamefully started wondering how the hell his dick was so well behaved, so normal today of all days. Not that it was a bad thing. He just found it curious. Why was this the first time in days his dick wasn’t getting swallowed, rode, or came on by whatever invisible force that clearly had been having its fun tormenting him? And will it ever come back to fuck him again?

Once Jimmy finds Clark alone at his desk wiping fingerprints off his glasses, he swats his shoulder and bashed one of his knees to his swivel chair, causing him to start spinning.

“What the hey, dude—don’t—“

“This could be your shot. All’s I’m sayin,” he shrugs. Sees Clark stop his chair and shove his friend forward, only enough power to knock him off his feet a little bit. “Hey, hey! That’s all I’m saying, I said!” he laughs and defensively puts both his palms up to shield himself from any more of Clark’s wrath.

“You can’t say that stuff. Don’t. She’s new, okay! And… and she needs my help learning everything around here. She doesn’t need some big oaf getting in her business, abusing power, or being… being weird towards her,” he concludes.

“Hey, opportunities sometimes fall right out of the sky. This one just fell right into your lap. And you’re not a fat oaf dude. Pfft, you actually think being her co-worker is gonna affect anything?”

“Uh, yes it does in fact. It will literally affect everything. You think it’d be appropriate for me to treat her like that?”

Jimmy shrugs again, ruffles Clark’s curls and says he should think about reconsidering some of his rules and start breaking them in order to finally get something he wants.

When she’s back from her break her hair is damp, fresh perfume sprayed on her coat to get rid of some of the stench from her cigarette. She looks refreshed, albeit a little more flustered than she was before she left. Her boots squeak slightly on the floor from stepping out on the wet ground outside. He thinks about complimenting her boots, her coat, her hair, thinks about complimenting her everything. But his words fall short after his voice cracks from the very simple greeting of hey, welcome back.

“Hey, can I ask you for a favor after work? It’s totally fine if you say no or if you can’t. You don’t have to give me any reasons,” she assures.

Already eager to know what she’s going to be asking of him, his ears perk and his posture straightens up as he scoots his chair over to her desk.

“Yeah of course. What’s up?”

“It started raining pretty hard and the forecast says it won’t stop until tomorrow morning. I actually walked here to work, and if it’s not any trouble, would you be able to give me a lift back home?”

Clark swallows an upcoming lump in his throat, feeling his palms start to get clammy. The mere thought of the proximity was enticing. Having her next to him, in his car. Her trust in him helping her with something as intimate as having her get back home safely. He tries to answer casually, like he’s a nonchalant guy — as if the offer wasn’t any big deal, wasn’t making his heart start to beat a little faster.

What comes out though is a horribly rushed, clumsy, stuttered —

“Ohyeahofcourse, you don’t even have to worry about it!”

Jimmy’s teasing still echoes through the hallway of his brain. About opportunities. About how sometimes they seem to fall right out of the sky. How this one has fallen right into his lap.

“Thanks so much Clark, I appreciate it. You’ve been the sweetest guy. I’m really lucky to have you here to teach me everything,” she praised. Turning his cheeks pink in all of two seconds with a flat palm on his broad shoulder, squeezing gently and holding the warmest smile.

“We’re lucky to have you. You’ve been— you’ve been great,” he gulps, trying to bring the focus back to her. “We don’t have too much more to fill out, but um, I don’t wanna overwhelm you with any more new things today. Let’s wrap up this paperwork then we’ll hopefully get you on those phones to practice the last hour.”

“Great! I’m almost finished with those. And for the record I do promise where I live isn’t far, I don’t wanna be too much an inconvenience,” she laughs. Clark shook his head again, ready to protest the very idea that she was asking too much. In truth, she was so stupid pretty that if she asks him to say his ABC’s backwards he’d still give it his best shot. She almost cuts off his attempt to deny it, straightening up some of the last pages left to read over and sign.

“You are not any inconvenience. If you are, then please keep inconveniencing me,” he says, flashing a toothy smile at her. He prays to himself that it comes out right, and to his delight, she grins back, adorable face expressing back to him, well, then don’t mind if I do. “with anything you need, I’ll be here.”

Is he being too much?

“Thanks, Clark. I owe you.”

Oh? What should you owe me?

He shakes off any perverted thoughts and spares a glance at his watch.

“Are you hungry? It could be lunch time. Up to you. We don’t clock in and out, we just have timesheets, so breaks are pretty flexible.”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

Clark’s head screams well there’s a full meal right in front of you.

“Great.”

. . .

He sees her head off to the break room and start chatting with Lois, smiling at her welcoming disposition while she checks in on how her training is going. Clark knows he has the option to stay, to ogle while he ate at his desk, but he feels like he has too much steam to blow off before handling the rest of the day. With a long final exhale, he adjusts his glasses and snatched up his keys to head back home for his lunch hour.

Once he’s back at his apartment he immediately sheds his god awful shoes and his suffocating button down before he’s lying flat on his back in bed, staring up at the wall. Trying to manifest that magical touch and beckon it to come back. Beg for it even. Wonders to himself if there’s some hidden way he hasn’t figured out yet to trigger it, or if it’ll always remain spontaneous.

Clenching his jaw he angrily starts groping his crotch, trying to feel himself out. He opens one eye to peer down at his dick and see if he just thought about it hard enough he’ll bring it back to life, feel that beautiful all consuming weight drip on top of him again.

“C’mon. C’mon, please… You… you’ve fucked me every day and I took it all last night, now I want it, I need it. Right here, please?”

Clark strokes his cock while it sways back and forth against his belly, mind already feeding into an idiotic fantasy of his new hire bending over, showing him her pretty colored thong. Maybe she’d pull her panties up higher so they’re peaking out further above her waistline, or maybe she’d pull them over to the side….

He raises his hips off the bed to thrust into his fist at the thought, pants still strung down barely past his groin. Figures if he shows back up to work the rest of the day in different pants, it’s his business and his business only, and so be it.

“Oh god it was so good last time, wish you could touch me like that again…”

He knows it’s pathetic. Everything he’s doing, everything he’s saying. While he grips the tip and twists particularly tight, he shamefully whimpers out his new hire’s name while his dick starts to drip into pubes. Messy, sticky, but gosh he needed this. Clark deeply misses the warmth on top of him, the hot teasing, the bouncing, and the thrill of not knowing what will happen next—

“Oh my god….”

. . .

part two

posting this cuz I’m so done looking at it already dear jesuslawd. if I should keep going somehow let me know I love coworkerXcoworker getting down and nasty. I like the idea of clark not knowing what’s going on and getting slobbered on by his work crush. fully no clue when/if the next part comes out oh my lawd. thanks soooo so much for all the love on the first little prelude:( im so obsessed with every reblog+comment

tag list: @emmaaagb @herejustforbuckybarnes @asthavraj @bitchy-bi-trash @gothgirlwannabe80 @snore-3 @noirecherie @lovergirl-007s-blog @tumlrwhore @glorydescent @forsakenskulltwist @brattybunnybby @unavurse

Because you knew that if he admitted it, you'd do nothing but spiral.

It had always been a problem with you—spiraling to the point of not communicating.

You'd be so caught up in your head that even your questions would remain inside your brain and you'd continue life confused and uncertain simply because the moment your brain talks and talks, your mouth decides to stitch itself shut.

It's what came naturally to you. Previous partners had complained, even with preamble, quickly growing tired of your habit and ending things.

None had the patience like Clark.

Though Clark, your sweet Clark, had thought the same as them.

Your motorcycle vibrated beneath you, the engine revving up alongside your excitement, and unbeknownst to you, Clark could already hear your approach.

Blue eyes stayed in focus precision on the chopping board but his ears had tuned everything out except you.

The air shrills, however, echoing across your small abode and forcing his feet toward the direction of his phone on the counter. 'Lois L.' flashing across the screen before slid to answer, footsteps fading back to his earlier spot.

"Hey, Lois." He beamed.

"Where are you right now?" The woman ignored him, getting straight to the point. "Are you going with the plan—"

"I'm preparing her dinner, then," Clark paused, worry building in his gut, as it always does when revealing this massive secret. "Maybe, I'll tell 'er."

"Maybe?"

"Yes, Lois. Maybe." He heard her sigh—heavily, as though she was reprimanding a child. "This is a massive secret Lois," It was his turn to release a breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his mind jumps between trusting you—trusting that you'd understand why he kept this to himself for so long—and the extreme possible chance that you'd run. "I don't think I can say it yet."

"It's almost been a year, Clark."

Silence.

"She deserves to know."

"Lois—" He turned around, only to face you in the doorway of your kitchen.

You stood there, motorcycle helmet under your arm, with a furrowed brow and increasing worry the moment he ended the call in haste.

"Honey, you're—"

"What was she talking about?" The question came out shakier than you'd prefer, knuckles turning white as your whispers started slowly invading corners of your mind.

What was this secret? How life altering could it be that he's hesitating on telling you? How did he even manage to keep it for so long?

What did Lois know about it?

"Answer me, Clark." You hear him gulp audibly as he stepped towards you, cautious yet hopeful that you'll let him explain.

"Honey…C-can we sit on the couch for this?"

Clark released a breath when you let him hold your hand, guiding you quietly to your couch. "I want to clarify that this has nothing to do between me and Lois. I swear."

"I don't doubt that."

Of course you don't doubt that. Clark couldn't harm a fly, how could you think that he'd cheat on you?

"I-uh…" He sniffed, eyes already watering. He couldn't help but think that this was it—this was where he loses you. "I'm not from…here—here as in this planet, um."

A beat passes.

"You're Superman." You breathed.

So quietly, Clark almost missed it. Almost.

"Wai—what?"

You replied with a soft chuckle, fondness coating your gaze.

"Yes—yes! Uh, yeah. I, um," Clark cleared his throat, hand shakily hovering above his glasses' leg before ripping the thing off his face.

Letting you see him.

Clark held his breath, and for a moment, when the warmth in your gaze didn't falter, and when you stepped up to him, cupping his cheek, eyes never straying from his own, he thought he was in the clear.

But you cleared your throat, face falling as you looked away, doubt melting your face.

Then, you confirmed what he feared.

"I think I need space, Clark…" You continued speaking but Clark heard none of it, all his mind could grasp was that one word: space.

You wanted—no—needed space.

Away from him.

Away from Clark.

You sweet Clark. Your sweet Clark who walked the outer side of the sidewalk, Your sweet Clark who always seemed attuned to you and only you in the room, Your sweet Clark who managed to figure out when you've had enough of crowds.

Your Clark.

"—Clark?"

"Hmm? Yeah! I'll, uh, give you space. You take all of the time that you need, my phone'll be ready—or not—you know, you're not obligated to call or—" Clark wouldn't meet your eyes, hurriedly snatching his glasses from the table, useless now, and putting on his coat but not before passing by the kitchen and turning off the stove all the while you followed his hasty footfalls.

"Clark!"

BANG!

The sound of the door slamming was sharp, shaking every surface of your apartment.

You stood there with hanging limbs, mouth agape in disbelief at both the secret and the volume.

It took you five days. Five agonizing days, two hours and thirty-four minutes for you to pick up the phone and ask Clark to come back over, but who was counting?

His steps caused a creeeeek on the hardwood floors of your apartment's hallways, wringing his hands and wiping them against his slacks, having ran here in the middle of his shift.

Clark took out his copy of your key but paused before the doorknob, tucking it back in his pocket before knocking instead, heart clenching at the muscle memory he might have to forget.

To his surprise, you immediately swung the door open, tackling him into a hug.

Massive hands splayed across your back, face nuzzling itself in the crook of your neck. The door was cold against your back when he pushed you back in your apartment, never parting from your touch.

"'m sorry." Clark felt your mumble vibrate against his shoulder, heat rising from his neck at your closeness before pulling away from yours.

"Why? I should be—"

"It took me almost a week to talk to you, Clark." His hands tighten their hold on your waist, "It wasn't fair to you."

"I was the one who kept secrets," he watches your mouth part in rebuttal, "And before you try to defend me, yes, it was reasonable, but I still kept it to myself. I should've trusted you more."

Having missed the feeling of him against you, your hands ran through his curly hair while he spoke, nuzzling your nose against his cheek, "I'm still sorry," you pressed a soft peck against the skin, "I just, had a lot in mind so it took me a while to pick up the phone properly."

He replied with a hum against your forehead, lips traveling to your temple, "What were you thinkin' about?"

You ignored the soft whine that left his throat when you pulled away slightly, fingers playing with the hair on his nape. "Just the mental toll it would've caused you to save people and have a life of your own, keeping it a secret your whole life. And… some other stuff."

Clark flushed red. Instead of thinking about the massive difference between both of your lives that he thought would part you, you were mulling over how he was feeling instead.

A thought made him pause. "What other stuff?"

His eyes squinted behind his glass when you remained silent, ears picking up the small jump your heart rate took, and when he looked down at you with scepticism, he was faced with the sight of your thighs clenching. Subtle, but it was there.

Clark smirked, the indents in his cheeks appearing deeper. The tilt in his head was immediate, aware of your tendency to avoid his gaze, and he immediately pushed your chin up with his thumb, palm still cradling your cheek.

"What stuff, honey?"

"Nothing important." You breathed, those inappropriate thoughts creeping back into your mind now that he was practically molding himself into you.

You were well aware of how massive your boyfriend was, who wouldn't when he made everything in your home look smaller that it is, but after he revealed his secret the difference in your biology became even more prominent.

Everything about him now has escalated and your mind couldn't help but question just how much and, well, where it escalated.

Now, now he was looking at you like he knew exactly where your mind was at. Proving it by effortlessly carrying you by your thighs, planting his growing erection right against your clothed cunt.

You let out a whimper at the contact, hands clenched amidst his curly strands.

"Nothin' important still?"

"Mm-mm."

"Alright." He pulled away abruptly, causing you to let out such a pathetic whine, you immediately slapped a hand over it. Embarrassment flooded your veins while he chuckled, approaching you again and prying your hand from your face.

Clark tilted his head, looking frustratingly innocent juxtaposing his next words. "You wanna tell me now?" He nuzzled his nose against your temple, glasses hitting your cheek, but he didn't even let you speak before pressing a bruising kiss on your lips.

The contact made you gasp, legs spreading instinctively, and he took it as a sign to immediately cup your pussy. He hummed when you whined against his lips, entirely too smug at his effect on you. "Tell me, honey. Don't go shy on me now."

"Clark…" You warned, though the shakiness in your voice gave away your neediness. "I was-um—just—thinkin' 'bout your—hng!" Your attempt at grinding against his hand was futile, it moved slightly away every time, making sure there was no friction.

"My what?"

"Your cock, Clark! How you—shit—I've always known sex with you was so different and now I know—CLARK!" The man's large palms suddenly grip the backs of your thighs, hauling you effortlessly, reminding you of his strength, before he dropped you onto your sofa.

Your lamp bathed him in a soft orange glow, contrasting the intoxicating look he was giving you through hooded eyes. The blues if his eyes nothing but a thin ring behind his dilated pupils.

The entire living room was silent save for the mix of heavy breathing that slipped past both your lips, and the clink of his belt that had a whimper escaping your throat in anticipation.

Clark made a show of slowly unbuttoning his white dress shirt, a proud smirk dimpling his cheeks. He had always known the effect he had one you—you never shied away from admitting how much you wanted to jump him in the most inconvenient of times; from a balcony at a press gala to his childhood room the first time you visited the Kent's—but now it was different.

A good different.

It was like you were getting to know his body once again.

You would've felt embarrassed at the speed of which you climbed his lap when he finally sat down next to you, clad in only his boxers that strained against his still growing erection. But all you can think about now is the overwhelming strength that coursed through his veins and how he'd been holding it back to prioritize you.

You claim his mouth with your own, not even waiting until he'd given you proper entrance to shove your tongue against his. His warm muscle barely fights yours when you pushed through and flicked the roof of his mouth, swallowing his moans at your obvious lust.

Clark chuckled lightly when you pull away to remove the shirt of his that had now become your pajamas only to surge forward once more when the fabric wasn't even all the way off, trembling fingers pushing off his glasses and throwing it carelessly somewhere as though it offended you.

His nose nudges your cheek when he nudges you away slightly, your breathy 'mngh' making him groan.

With ease that had arousal drenching your underwear, he stood up with your legs still wrapped around his waist, lips dragging kisses down his throat, one hand dragging his boxers down just enough for his erection to spring out and the other splayed across your back.

When he dropped back down the couch, you wasted no time spitting on your hand and wrapping a tight fist around his cock.

His immediate groan rings in your ears and you realize just how much you missed it. How much you missed him.

Those seven whole days were torturous ones. You were left in your empty apartment, mulling over how he was able to keep this a secret his whole life before those sympathetic thoughts melted into lewd ones.

Now, now you had him back. And it seemed like he was more than willing to show you just what he'd kept from you. The most important one being just how long he could keep coming.

Clark was nothing if not an attentive lover, always seeking your pleasure first, and while you appreciated it during the first few months, it started worrying you when he would refuse your offers to make him cum.

You wondered if it was a mental block because it clearly wasn't a physical one—his boners could practically rip the seems of his pants whenever you were coming aport on his finger or mouth.

Your tugging on his cock slows, leaving him thrusting up, trying to find friction. You push at his stomach but your own flips when he didn't back down, easily overpowering you and finding the tiniest bit of friction in your palm. "Fuck, that was—"

A beat passes and he "gives up" in his pursuit of your hand, slumping in defeat against your couch cushions and running his massive palms up and down your sides. You could only look at him with a parted lips before you knelt down in front of him.

"Honey…" Clark breathed, cock twitching at the sight of your hungry eyes.

He felt your warm muscle against the underside of his cock, slowly, reverently, as if you were memorizing every ridge and the prominent vein that ran up his shaft. Your pretty eyes were shut, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as the muscle narrowed approaching his tip.

The tip of your tongue teases his glans, your fingers dragging the flesh down, exposing his tip even more, before you teased his leaking slit with quick relentless kitten licks.

The groan that escaped his chest was guttural, heavenly, you thought, the sound going straight to your core. Clark's fingers tentatively runs through your hair, before he cups your chin in his hand, looking at you with eyes that incentivized you to shove his entire girth down your throat.

And when you did, you would've thought somebody punched Clark right in the gut with the way his entire body curled, balls tight against your chin. His hands curled into your corduroy couch, and your brows raised at the instant tear.

You couldn't even be mad. Not when you looked up to see Clark trying to breath through his building orgasm, head thrown back, his hips completely uncontrollable. The muscles jerk and twitch, inadvertently pushing himself further into your gaping mouth.

You choke slightly at the intrusion before you relaxed your muscles, breathing through your nose and pulling off of his hot flesh. Your cheeks hollow out as you go, tongue swirling around him before lapping at his tip frantically—the liquid that now drips from the corners of your mouth a mix of saliva and his incessantly leaking spend.

"That's it—" He breathed, looking down at you again while you twisted your wrist at his base, pulling his foreskin further. The tip was an angry red now—repeatedly buried beautifully inside your warm mouth. "Oh fuuu—gosh, honey!" Your lips puckered, sucking his head with the tip of your tongue still flicking his slit before you pressed him right against your puckered lips.

You swipe his cock head across your lips, its flushed color akin to a lipstick shade you wore. The sight made him whimper, hips jerking before you took him in, all in one go.

"Lookit you." He murmured, hand still placed firmly underneath your chin, gathering slick as well as guiding your movements. Clark's eyes widens in admiration when he felt your flesh expand, letting him know just how full your mouth is of him.

And boy did you fill full.

He was heavy when it was just his tip you were sucking, but now? Now that you were taking him in slowly, you could appreciate the drag of his cock against every surface of your warm channel, leaving you whimpering when you realized just how heavy he was.

One of your hands pry away from digging into his thighs to cup his balls and fuck.

He was even heavier.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his tip goes past your uvula and you feel his balls tighten when your throat gags around him—the movement squeezing his cock head and drenching his cock with even more of your warm saliva.

The heavy ringing in your ear wanes when you hear him mumbling. "How, gosh—good g—oh you're doin' so fuckin' good."

With the right flick of your wrist and the thumbing on his taint, his hot flesh throbs inside your mouth, twitching as his balls tighten in your grip.

And now you understood why he kept refusing your advances to make him come.

You felt it before you tasted it; hitting the back of your throat. It spurted out of his slit in hot insistent ropes, making him pull you off slightly. But you, you only stared at him through your lashes, keeping your mouth clamped around him—determined to swallow all of him.

Only his spend didn't stop after a few seconds. Your throat worked in gulping down his warm and viscid load but could only swallow so much when he kept filling your mouth.

Clark's seed spurts after each and every throb of his cock, trickling through the corners of your lips and causing your eyes to water.

His groans were violent—vibrating through his chest and echoing across your apartment. His adam's apple bobs, curses and whimpers swallowed before they could reach your ears and you moan at the sight of him undone.

The palm that's been cradling your chin finally pulls you off and on top of him.

With your mouth still full of his spend, he wastes no time slotting his lips against yours. Clark hummed when he tasted himself on your taste-buds, smiling against your spit and cum stained lips when you whimpered.

His tongue tickled the roof of your mouth, entirely enjoying the way you tasted together. The feeling of your dripping chin against his didn't even bother him, it only exhilarated his pleasure—the true essence of him is all over your mouth and dripping down your chin, slwoly making its way between the valley of your breasts.

It seemed he wasn't the only one to feel the rush down his spine as he swallowed your every moan, soft hands carrying setting you on his lap.

Your breathy 'mngh's were going straight to his still sputtering cock, making it twitch against his belly.

It wasn't the only thing dripping against him. Clark was always hyper aware of your body and now, now your dripping pussy was flush against his throbbing cock. His wide hands spread your ass cheeks, exposing both your holes to the cool air, and guiding your hips to a soft grind.

"Clark." You whined, hiding your face in the crook of his neck when he chuckled, smug at his effect on you. "I need you inside me. Please."

Your whisper against his flushed skin sent a shiver down his spine. He wasn't any better than you. Neither he couldn't wait to finally feel you around him—to stuff you full of him.

Moans tore itself out of your lungs when he notched his hot tip against your twitching hole, its slit leaking pre inside you. You pressed your thighs flush against his, your pussy stretching, muscles contracting to accommodate his size.

"Kal..." The name had Clark short circuiting, nails biting into your skin as he thrusts into you.

You hadn't meant for it to leave your lips—hell, you only found out a couple days ago—but by his reaction, you wished you knew if for longer. It felt like the name had a grip on him, like hearing it coming from your mouth and accepting the difference with pleasure was enough for his mind to melt.

The moan that left his lips bordered on a whimper. His hands, needy and shameless, start directing your hips up and down, fingers digging into your soft flesh. His hips follow your movements not a moment after, pushing up into you every time yours descends.

"Say it again, honey—mnnggh—say my name again." Clark whined against your temple. "Please…"

"K—ah-!" You try your best to do so, but fail considering how his cock was spearing itself into you—feeling like its reaching your lungs with every thrust.

"Please, honey, please."

You could only whimper in response, shakily leaning away from him with a hand steadying yourself on his shoulder. You groan at the pressure in your belly the new angle brings, head feeling fuzzier when he let out a cry at the loss of contact.

It was as if your hand had a mind of its own, dragging your fingers through his thick spend dripping between the valley of your breasts to circle your hardened nipples, chest hot to the touch.

You keen when Clark snatched your hand away from your breast, only for him to surge forward, lather his tongue across your and his mixed juices and take your nipple into his mouth, pistoning never yielding beneath you.

He hummed against your chest, sending vibrations through your nerve endings, the tip of his tongue lapping at the hardened peaks.

Though suddenly he pulled away and a jolt of electricity ran down your spine when he blew extremely cold air on the already sensitive nipple, causing his name to rip out of your chest.

"Fuck, Kal—!"

Clark let out an unbridled whimper at the name, one hand pulling you in by your waist as the other spayed across your back, keeping his mouth firmly wrapped around your nipple as he tucked you against his chest.

At this point, he wasn't helping you bounce on his cock anymore—he was borderline using you. You were nothing but a mess of limbs against his chest, fingers sharply tugging at his curls, and letting out ah's every time his tip repeatedly hits that spongy spot in your pussy.

Your warm cunt was was so clenched so tight, you could feel ever twitch and throb of his cock—his cock barely leaving you before he shoves it right back in.

The coarse hairs on the base of his cock was rubbing right against your clit with every grind, and the combination of that; his continuous suckling of your breast, and the repeated pounding of your sweet spot had stars shining behind your eyes—the tight rope snapping in your belly.

And he was right there behind you. His hips stutter against yours before he firmly planted your hips against his, leaking slit right against the crux of your cervix.

Ropes upon hot ropes of spend squirt out of his cock, flooding your entire cunt with its warmth until you were full. But even as he slowly retreated, rubbing your hip softly as he does so, his cock continues to spill inside you—still throbbing, still twitching.

Not that you were any better; the grip you had on his girth was unyielding.

So you both stayed there. With his load mixed with yours spilling through your puffy folds. You look at Clark from your spot in the crook of his neck, his lips part slowly from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting him to your flesh.

He laps at the sensitive skin teasingly, chuckling breathlessly when you whined and twitched in his hold. His lips leave a fleeting kiss on your forehead before looked at your wrecked form.

"What?" You ask, breath hitching when he readjusts your positions on the couch, head lying against the armrest, pussy clenching with a sick squelch when he shifted inside you.

Clark's dimples appear when he smiles and you rub your thumb on the indent. "We could've been doing this the whole time if I'd told you sooner."

"Who says I'm done making up for lost time?"

💌 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞: the dean fic is next guys!

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

©𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦 — DO NOT translate, steal or post my work anywhere else without my permission.𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐈 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘.

it was on a friday night that you had decided tonight was the night. you had sent clark the usual duck emoji, smirking as he had immediately seen the text. however, when you arrived home, it wasn't like usual. usually, upon sending the emoji, you'd pounce on him and drag him to the bedroom. tonight, however? radio silence. well, not quite, but that's it felt to clark. you didn't give him those bedroom eyes you usually did on nights you were feeling particularly needy, you insisted on taking a shower all by yourself (he almost crumbled at that) and after dinner, you lounged on the couch to watch a tv show without even asking him to follow you! you just did!

the thing about clark kent is, he's a gentleman through and through. his ma had raised him to be one, and for christ's sake, he was superman! how could he not be a gentleman? but, he sympathizes with himself, you can't spell gentlemna without man, and clark was a man before he was anything else. a very aroused and hopelssly in love man, at that.

he stands awkwardly in the doorway of the living room, staring at you. you noticed, of course, but this wasn't unusual. clark has always had sort of weird quirks—you had always found them endearing. "is something the matter, honey?" your sirupy voice cut through his stream of thought, and suddenly his eyes focus again, gaze meeting yours.

clark has his phone in hand, and he brings it up to look back at the duck emoji you had sent. duck meant sex. you wanted this. he can indulge. you want this.

he knows you do. you sent the text, and he feels like he can almost smell your arousal and it's driving him fucking insane because he just wants to dive in it and taste it and fuck you everywhere so the entire place smells like you and-

in the blink of an eye, his phone is abandonned and he's on you, lips smashed against yours. you barely have the time to react but you do, arms now hanging around his thick neck. his hand latches itself onto your cheeks, fingers pressing into both of them, urging you to open your mouth. as soon as you do, his tongue, which was inhumanely long, snaked into your cavern, exploring its depths. he moaned at the taste of your saliva, almost melting into you as if the flavor of you was his ultimate salvation.

noticing the lack of air filling your lungs, he pulled away, his eyes softening at the sight of you catching your breath. "c-clark... what's... whta's gotten into you?" you licked your lips, face flushed. he looks at you like a puppy begging for its treat. "the emoji... you sent the emoji but you didn't... i thought..." his mind is a rush, moving at a thousand miles per hour as his entire body is begging him to rip your clothes off and take you.

he gives up, his head falling into the crook of your neck. "i just... i really need to fuck you, sweetheart." and as he's confessing this, his hand is gliding towards the waistband of your bottoms, sliding swiftly underneath it.

you think you could ascend.

you bite your lip, rendered mute at the sheer tension of the moment. "i know you want it, baby..." he scoffs, eyes closed. "can smell it."

curse him for being such a dangerously hot and multi-abled alien.

his hand makes its way underneath your panties, finger running through your slit, collecting the slick you've been trying to keep to yourself for the past hour. "ah..." you let out a low sound, almost imperceptible but clark was so hyper-focused on you that the little moan made him shudder.

he uses his forearm to push himself upwards, his hand escaping your bottoms to rush up to his mouth, and when you look at him, you gasp, feeling your walls clench.

because clark has never looked this feral.

his eyes were half-lidded and impossibly dark, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows your juices, eyes nearly rolling back at the taste. he moans, his cock twitching and growing inside his sweatpants.

"you're gonna give it t'me, right sweetie?" he asks in that low, sultry voice that he only allows himself to use when he'd rather die than not touch you.

the eager nod you gave him marked the moment you knew you were done for.

.

how long has it been? you don't know. you don't know anything, actually. your brain is fogged with how clark was pounding you into the fuzzy carpet, your eyes crossing when the buds running along his dick grazed against the ridges of your walls, the added sensation making you spasm. "f-ffuck-! clark- oh my god, ohmygod—" you can barely form a sentence, let alone link two words together when he knocks at your cervix, your tits bouncing in rhythm with every thrust.

and clark isn't even listening to you, his eyes laser-focused on the sight of his cock splitting you open repeatedly, a vein bulging on his forehead at his intense use of his x-ray vision. "look at that, b-baby... look..." and you don't even bother, too lost in the ecstasy. he sees it all though, the strings of your arousal clinging to his tip every time he pulls away, the ridged of your pussy hooking onto his buds, the contractions of your muscles.

he finally manages to pull his eyes away from the sight, only to be met with the even prettier, albeit messier sight of your fucked out face. tears and drool glossed your skin, your eyes rolled back nearly to the back of your skull, throwing your head back when clark's hips stutter against yours, a white-hot wave washing over him over the sight.

he stilled when his buds hardened and hooked onto your walls, pulling him impossibly deep as he shoots buckets worth of cum deep into your womb. "a-ah! holy sh- hmm, fffuck, baby- i- fuck!" he sobs, jerking down towards you and you moan at the feeling of him filling you up once more, droplets of his sweat dripping onto your buzzing skin.

despite his orgasm, he doesn't stop, "n-need m-moree- needa fill you up-! ah, fuck!" his voice jumps up an octave when his buds finally relax again, allowing him to keep pistoning into you. "d-don't stop, clark! please dont- oh-!" he suddenly grabs your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders before beeending down, succesfully folding you in half. his face is now slotted right in front of yours, and the eye contact is so intense you almost feel shy under his gaze.

a mating press. clark kent had you in a fucking mating press.

you get lost in his ocean blue eyes, barely able to keep the eye conatct when he fucks you almost like he hated you, digging in your pussy. "you're... you're so beautiful, honey... so fucking pretty- all f'me, yeah? all f'me?" you nod, hands pressing against the back of his head to bring him impossiby closer to you, "all for you, clarkie," you confirmed being hastily pressing his against you, imprisoning him in a feverish kiss. clark moans into your mouth, eyes closing. you jolt slightly when you feel a tear drip down on your cheek, peeling your eyes open to see clark crying.

he pulls away, gasping for air as his throat restricts. "i l-love you, love you s'much— need you so, ngh, so bad... wanna breed ya'..." he sobs, whimpering for you. seeing clark become such a slave to his love for you had an inescapable effect on you, and your orgasm was almost immediate. you came with a gasp, the pleasure being so heavy that your eyes had given up on their function, unfocusing and leaving you with the blurry image of clark's flushed expression. your back arched as cream dribbled out of your hole, creating a white ring around clark's base.

in the midst of your orgasm, he pulls out, making you whine for the few seconds your face isn't smushed against the carpet because in a matter of moments, your world tilted before you found yourself face down ass up for your boyfriend. he pressed a hand on your back, urging a deeper arch. "m'sorry baby, m'so sorry..." he apologizes for the his unceremonial behavior but his apologies fall on deaf ears as you couldn't be happier.

your hands clutch the fluff of the carpet when he slams back into you, kneading the flesh of your ass. "just... just need this. s'your fault for making me wait... so long.. to have you- ngh, gosh..." he's hypnotized by the rippling of your ass, and the way your back bends impossibly for a second each time he rams back inside you, pressing you further into the carpet.

with clark kent fucking you like that, you really don’t think you’re making it out alive.

well, your fault for trying to experiment on a poor, farm-grown kryptonian.

your moans are rhythmic, matching the pace of his hips. leaning in, he wraps an arm around you to squeeze your tits, massaging them and rubbing your hardened nipples. "so obedient..." his comment makes your walls flutter around his fat cock. he begins to roll his hips, not quite thrusting. he presses against you, making you drool. "nghhh... fffuuuck... love you... so much.. c-clark-!" you slurred, going crazy at the sensation of his buds hardening slowly again, hooking onto your insides.

"w-want your cum-! want you to b-breed me!" you egged him on, "yeah? y'want it, baby? oh gosh, i'm cumming, m'cummingm'cumming-" he gritted, spilling into you once more. "oh my god! oh god, sweetheart!" he whined, your name escaping him as his hips bucked again, releasing rope upon rope inside you. his orgasm triggered yours, drops of your release trickled down onto the carpet before his hand snaked down to your clit, rubbing furiously and suddenly an intense stream released itself onto the now soaked carpet, the intensity of both of your orgasms making the two of you collaspe in a heap.

he layed on top of you, both of you catching your breaths. "i feel so... sticky." he remarked, "shit... i ruined the carpet." you groaned, knitting your eyebrows together.

a silence settled in, before you broke it. "i'm glad my experiment worked." a beat passes before he reacts, "experiment?"

"i tried conditioning you into associating sex with the duck emoji. it worked."

clarks hums, choosing not to react any further.

a few days later, minutes after the end of your shift, you receive a text from clark.

a duck emoji.

If you’re going out without him (which he, uh. doesn’t love) he prefers to drop you off and pick you up. It minimizes the time you spend away from him and gives him an excuse to know exactly where you are and exactly when he’ll see you again. It also gives him an excuse to be texting and calling you asking when you want him to come pick you up. Are you sure you don’t want him to come early? It’s late and you sound kind of tired. No, he doesn’t mind at all, ha ha, just let him come get you and you can come back to his place and curl up under the blankets with him and read until bed. Please. :)

Bed time for him is no later than 11 pm, by the way. If he’s waking up at 7 he wants a solid 8 hours of sleep, and he wants you under the blankets with him. If you’re late getting into bed with him he’ll sort of hover around you until you get the hint.

When you’re sleeping together he will always be touching you in some way. Even if you’re not cuddled up against each other he wants a hand on your waist, his forehead tucked into your shoulder, feet touching under the sheets, just something. And you cannot escape it. If you roll over in your sleep he’s following you across the bed, and if you move away from him on purpose he will look at you with those sad wet puppy eyes. It genuinely hurts his feelings.

Just go ahead and sign up for a Life360 account with him. Or any other location sharing app. It will greatly ease his anxiety and he would just find another way to keep tabs on you anyway. Sometimes he keeps the app open next to him while he’s preoccupied with other things, just glancing at your location on the map every so often, even if he already knows where you are.

You’ll have to establish strong boundaries around your private life, because he feels like you should have absolutely no secrets from him. Like, what do you mean he can’t read your diary? Why did you leave the room to take that call with your friend? You’re texting her about a breakup she’s going through and he wants to be over your shoulder reading all of it. No sense of privacy.

Please note that this does not apply to him lmao, there are many things about himself and his past that he would prefer you don’t know about. He worries that you would think less of him or leave him if you found out about some of the more violent things he’s done. He desperately wants you to think highly of him, but at the same time he wants someone to see every ugly part of him and love him anyway. He doesn’t know how to manage these two feelings in the beginning, and will probably try to hide those uglier parts of himself until he inevitably makes a mistake and ends up confessing everything to you at once. If you stay with him anyway and assure him that it hasn’t scared you off, it will be a huge trust-building moment for him.

Clingy. So clingy. He’s always touching you in some way. A hand on your leg while you’re sitting on the couch. A foot pressed up against yours under the table while you’re at a restaurant. A hand on your back while you’re walking. You tease him about his “separation anxiety”, but you both know it’s true. You go to the bathroom to wash your face and he’s sitting on the tub, watching. He wants to be involved in anything you’re doing, chopping onions in the kitchen, going to the gym, reading quietly on the couch. Anything.

He would be the only significant relationship in your life if he could. He doesn’t like your friends, although he tries to be courteous with them for you. Seeing your attention directed at anyone else makes him anxious and insecure, and he can get moody if he thinks you’re doing too much of it (his threshold for “too much” is very low). Dex doesn’t have friends. You are the only person who really means anything to him, and he feels like he should be the same for you. The two of you against the world.

His fear of abandonment is easily triggered and his mood can flip on a dime. He can get really ugly when his mood takes a turn for the worst, accusing you of not loving him, saying that you’re going to leave him like everyone else has, crying, yelling. He can be manipulative and tends to resort to guilt-tripping. Bringing up how lonely he was before you, how much he needs you, how awful he feels when you do whatever behavior he’s spiraling about this time. He cries a lot. You will need to have strong boundaries and frank conversations about all of this to stand up for yourself.

He is a very self-centered person, by which I mean his own needs are front-and-center of his mind at all times. Dex has not had healthy relationships, romantic, platonic, or familial. For most of his life, if he wasn’t looking out for himself, no one was. Learning to care for another person genuinely and not just for what they can do for him will be a learning experience and a big hurdle in your relationship.

He seems very kind and generous at the beginning of your relationship, but he’s motivated primarily by fear that you’ll leave him or find him unworthy. He’s trying to do what he thinks a partner should and what he thinks you want him to do, but at its core it’s self-serving behavior. He doesn’t know how to care for another person earnestly. He wants to, and he’s trying very hard, but it will take time and patience.

He does not like having his photo taken. The first time you pull out your phone and ask him to take a picture with you, he’s visibly uncomfortable and unsure of what to do with himself, although he does try for your sake. The next week, when he’s at your place and sees the photo printed and stuck to your fridge with a kitschy magnet, he changes his mind. He’ll let you take as many pictures as you want, even if he still looks like he’s grimacing in half of them.

He starts keeping photos of you too, many of them taken without your knowledge. His favorites are the ones of you doing totally mundane things. You, curled up under his sheets. Folding socks on the floor. Brushing your teeth in your bathroom mirror. Sipping on a coffee with your friends while you didn’t know he was watching you through the window. He looks at them when you’re away.

Dex is awkward. His usual behavior is a mask he puts on to try to meet whatever standard is expected of him at the moment. The more time he spends with you, the more you start to see behind the mask. He can be stilted. He makes odd remarks and observations. He has a strange sense of humor. Embarrassment strikes him when he first realizes he’s slipped up, but when you respond with a smile and acceptance it feels like a weight off of his shoulders. He can let down the burden of performing around you.

He can also have a mean sense of humor. He often comes out with things that are shocking or graphic. Someone cuts him off in traffic and he says “this guy should be shot on sight.” The barista is a little short with you and he mimes throwing a quarter through her head when she’s not looking. You’re pretty sure he’s joking. He wants you to laugh and joke with him, for the two of you to be mischievous and playful together. If you can match his humor, he feels even closer to you, like the two of you share a language that no one else is in on.

If you give him a compliment he will remember it forever. You tell him he looks good after a haircut and he’s making sure you see him after every cut from now on. You say he looks good in that quarter-zip and he’s wearing it twice as often. You think black looks best on him? He wears black every day now. He won’t buy a cologne unless you approve of it first.

Dex has never been preoccupied with his looks. At least, not beyond looking professional and appropriate for whatever environment he’s in. He knows he’s good looking, but hearing it never really mattered to him until you were the one saying it. He loves hearing you call him handsome and pretty. He just wants you to look at him and enjoy what you see.

He needs a lot of validation and he’ll ask for it if he’s feeling especially insecure. “Are you mad at me?” “You still like having me around, right?” No matter how many times you reassure him, he can’t quite bring himself to believe it.

Dex loves being loved by you. He loves to hear you say it. Notices every way you show it, no matter how small. Keeps every note you write him, every sweet text, every gift you give him, no matter how insignificant. They’re all proof that you care about him. You’re the only person who ever has.

Once he gets a taste of affection from you he is both starved for it and terrified of it. You made him realize what was missing in his life, how empty and miserable he was without love and touch. The thought of losing it, of losing you, makes him feel like he can’t breathe. The slightest sense that you’re pulling away from him has him clinging even more desperately. He cannot lose you. He doesn’t know if he would survive it.

He gets attached fast. Very fast. One date together and his every thought is consumed by you. A week in and he’s sure you’re the one. He’ll rush into relationship milestones like saying “I love you,” clearing out a drawer in his dresser for you, asking you to move in with him. If you want to take things slower, you’ll have to be very gentle and reassuring when you bring it up, because if he feels like you’re rejecting any part of him he will start to spiral.

He loves it when you get possessive over him. Loves it even more when you show your love for him in strange ways. You text him one evening “I miss you. I want to crawl inside your rib cage and live there,” and he spends the rest of the week thinking about it. Screenshots it and looks at it when you’re apart.

He does not judge you for any of your odd habits or behaviors. In his mind it truly is the two of you against the world. If you fidget a lot, have a weird sense of humor, a strange hobby, an unusual laugh, he takes it all in without any hesitation. He wants to learn every secret and hidden part of you, especially the things you might be embarrassed of or try to keep from others. He wants to know you fully, in a way that no one else does.

He will go through your phone and your diary and anything else you keep private information in. Especially if he feels like you don’t want him seeing it. What are you hiding from him? ___Why would you hide it from him? He needs to know all of it. He does not respect your privacy in the least. If you catch him and bring it up he’ll just get better at hiding it.

Dex doesn’t really have hobbies, but he would love to incorporate you into his routine. You want to start working out? He’ll write up a plan for you and show you how it’s done. Teaching you proper form at the gym, or spotting for you if you already know. Going on runs together, pacing you, pushing you to do your best. He loves doing the most mundane things together like meal planning, grocery shopping, cooking side by side and eating the meals you prepared together. His routine is the foundation of his life and he would deeply appreciate your efforts to fit into it and accommodate it.

Dex is very intelligent. You start picking his brain about the things he’s knowledgeable of, advice about the skills he’s mastered, and it fills him with pride. He’s got experience with the military and the FBI, he stays up to date on current events, he’s obsessive about his fitness and nutrition, and he was a straight A student. He’s got a razor-sharp mind and plenty of expertise, and he loves feeling useful to you and like you see him as someone worthy of respect.

He likes it a little too much when you hurt him. Playfully biting him, squeezing him a little too hard, swatting at him when he’s bothering you, kissing him with too much force. He’s vibrating with the intensity of the feelings it digs up in him. He wants you to do it harder and more often but he’s not sure how to bring it up, so he’ll find ways to bait you into it, like wrapping an arm around your neck to tempt you into sinking your teeth into the muscle. He’ll offer to teach you self-defense so he has an excuse to tell you to hit him. He just wants to be sure you’re doing it right, you know? That you’ve got the technique and the force down. He hopes you don’t notice that he’s just a little too into it.

He doesn’t really get empathy. He tries for you, though. God, does he try. The experience of empathy is a very logical process for him, trying to map out your feelings and reactions in his mind. It can come across as mechanical and detached, but he really is trying to understand you and make you feel better. It will take a lot of trial and error, and you’ll have to be patient with him and offer lots of gentle feedback to help him improve.

He struggles with insomnia. Sometimes the medication helps, sometimes it doesn’t. He lies awake and focuses on your peaceful face, the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your body next to him. Sometimes, when you wake up, he’s already awake and watching you. He doesn’t try to hide it.

He tends to make excessive eye-contact with you. On top of his general lack of social skills, it’s just his fixation on you and his need to know your every thought and emotion. He’s constantly trying to gauge your feelings towards him and whether or not he’s done something wrong.

He will watch your favorites shows and movies and read your favorite books to better understand you. Especially if you’re the type to annotate your books. It’s like a window into your mind. (He never marks up his books it does trigger his issue with obsessive neatness to see you do it, but he’ll tolerate it for the sake of reading what you have to say)

He gets emotional when you shower him in affection. You press kisses all over his face, his forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks and chin. Soft and adoring. His eyes are stinging with tears before you’re even done. He didn’t know how starved he was for gentle touch until you gave it to him, and now he craves it. He won’t ask for it with words but he’ll stare at you with big, wet eyes until you get the hint. Nudging your shoulder with his nose. Brushing your fingers with his. He melts when you finally give him what he needs.

⟢ if you could magically know how to play an instrument, which one would you choose?

⟡ probably the piano

⟢ if you could have only one superpower, which one would it be?

⟡ teleportation, 1000% it would be so convenient (no side effects tho)

⟢ what's the earliest movie you remember seeing?

⟡ happy feet !! 🐧 I vaguely remember them dancing/stomping

⟢ what's a food you won't ever get tired of eating?

⟡ potatoessss <3 like just about every kind of potato honestly (within reason)

⟢ would you rather explore space or explore the ocean?

⟡ both make me nervous, but probably space bc I love the stars

⟢ do you have a dream car?

⟡ no specific one in mind to be honest (i'm blanking out rn) but I love older cars for the nostalgia and lack of built in technology :-)

⟢ what's your favorite letter in the alphabet?

⟡ I have a soft spot for J ofc but my favorite is probably the lowercase i (anyone else go through a phase where they dotted them with hearts and/or stars?)

⟢ gold jewelry or silver jewelry?

⟡ i'm a silver girly 🩶 but I will switch to my gold septum ring every now and then just to change it up :]

⟢ if you could have only one superpower, which one would it be? ↬ teleportation, or freezing time, just so I would have more time to do all the things I love.

⟢ what's the earliest movie you remember seeing? ↬ I had a real Lion King phase for a bit, and maybe also An American Tail.

⟢ what's a food you won't ever get tired of eating? ↬ my current breakfast obsession (brioche bagel with egg, avocado & sweet chili sauce). Blackberries. A nice homemade lemonade that's not too sweet.

⟢ would you rather explore space or explore the ocean? ↬ both, but if I had to pick, space. just shoot me up there when my time comes and let me see the stars.

⟢ do you have a dream car? ↬ I don't have a car, and I don't really want one, but if I lived somewhere where I needed one, I would like a jeep or truck, something that has a lot of metal around it and I can sit high and peek over the dashboard. :D

⟢ what's your favorite letter in the alphabet? ↬ Y and P. I don't know why, I just like their vibes.

⟢ gold jewelry or silver jewelry? ↬ gold cause it suits me better.

☆ if you could have only one superpower, which one would it be?

✧ Telekinesis, easy, I’m lazy…

☆ what's the earliest movie you remember seeing?

✧ ET!! Loved that movie!

☆ what's a food you won't ever get tired of eating?

✧ I could survive off a good homemade mac n’ cheese. Bonus points if it’s baked 😋

☆ would you rather explore space or explore the ocean?

✧ I think I’m equally as terrified of both. Probably ocean? As much as I love the stars and would love to see ‘em, I’d absolutely slip into cardiac arrest the moment we take off.

☆ do you have a dream car?

✧ ‘77 Trans Am. That said, I know nothing about cars (mine was literally from FB marketplace) they just look awesome, c’mon now.

☆ what's your favorite letter in the alphabet?

✧ R. I like her. I feel she is tough. Also, associated with red of course, which is my favourite colour 😝

☆ gold jewelry or silver jewelry?

✧ I hoard gold jewelry, honestly.

Now for the tags, sorry for doubles!