Ryn!

Smallville is the exact same as it was when you were in high school. Busy one-lane streets, overgrown back roads, delicious Mom and Pop diners downtown. Everybody still knows everybody, and everyone is friendly and hospitable. You're not upset that you never left. No — this is a beautiful place, a nice place.

Your days are busy and full, which is exactly how you like it. You go to work and do a damn good job before going back home to your cozy, empty house. Sure, there's something inherently lonely about it all, but you don't mind. It's fine. Work is enough for you, enough to keep you preoccupied.

Your Friday nights are often spent at a local bar, where you have a drink or two and a mediocre meal before heading home to relax for the weekend.

It's a common occurrence to run into folks you know in a town like this. You can't even remember how many times you've come across people from high school or college. Admittedly, you're the kind of person who pretends not to recognize people unless they explicitly come up to you and strike up a conversation. You're not proud of it, but c'mon, if you talked to every single person you once knew, you'd never get anything done.

That's why you're so…put-off when you get the urge to approach the tall man in glasses sitting alone at a table tonight.

When he'd first walked in, you almost thought you were seeing a ghost. There was absolutely no way that Clark fucking Kent had just stepped into your hometown bar. He's bigger, that's for sure, and clad in a flannel with rolled up sleeves and a white t-shirt beneath it. It's tight across his chest, as if he didn't really have anything else to wear and that was all that he had on-hand. His jeans fit nicely, and his work boots are just as big as you remember them being.

Geez, how long has it been since his work boots sat beside your back door? How long has it been since he pulled them back on and walked out for the last time? How long has it been since Clark's been here at all?

That's when you realize: you really don't know. The Kent farm is way out on the other side of Smallville, a good twenty minute drive from your place, and when he left to move to the big city eight years ago, you didn't really have a reason to drive that way anymore. So, who knows? Maybe he visits Ma and Pa Kent monthly. Bi-monthly. A handful of times a year. How long has he been doing that? you wonder as you watch him sit down by himself and look over the menu. How many times have you almost crossed paths? How many times has he been here in Smallville and you had no idea?

You stare, because even though your body knows it's him, something feels off about him. You realize, after a few minutes, that it's the glasses. Somehow they make his nose look bigger and his eyes slightly further apart. Strange. He didn't used to wear glasses at all, so maybe his prescription has just gotten bad. Not that it matters. They suit him.

When you get to your feet and slip over to his table, it's almost as if your body is moving without asking you first. Your stomach is in knots, your palms are sweaty. You slide into the chair across from Clark, a small smile on your face as he glances up.

When he sees you, it's almost as if he can't quite believe that it's you. You look at him bashfully as a grin spreads across his face. He's still got those pretty dimples. Goddammit.

"Oh my gosh! Hi!" he exclaims, setting his menu down. He says your name, then, and your heart flutters. His voice is deeper than it was in high school, but his intonation is the exact same. Expressive, kind.

"Long time no see," you say. Clark laughs as he gets to his feet, and you stand up, too. He pulls you into a hug, and you get a whiff of hair product and cologne. It's different than what he wore all those years ago, but it's still so him. The musky undertone is the exact same as it used to be. His hold is firm, and you try to ignore the way heat blooms between your thighs at the feeling of his built form against you.

He pulls away too soon for your liking, and you both sit back down.

"It's so good to see you," Clark says. "What've you been up to?"

A loaded question, you think to yourself.

"Well," you chuckle, "I'm teaching. Finally."

Clark's smile widens.

"You went through with it?" he asks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You nod, cheeks hot. "Oh, that's good. I'm so glad, I bet you're amazing. I mean, I know you are, you were so passionate about education in high school…"

You nod.

"It's all I've ever wanted to do," you tell him. Clark hums.

"I know," he says. It makes you feel sort of strange, the way he says it. I know. As if he remembers all these things about you. As if he still thinks about you now and then despite the fact that he's a big shot journalist in Metropolis now.

You nod.

"What about you, mister Daily Planet?" you ask. Clark chuckles. You nudge him. "What's it like in the city?"

"Loud," Clark says, nodding. You laugh.

"Loud?"

"Very loud. And busy. But I love it."

"Good," you say. You nod, despite the fact that your smile is fading ever so slightly. Do you love it more than you loved me? you want to ask.

You still remember how you reacted when he told you he was applying to Metropolis University. You were so angry, so hurt. How could he be doing this to you? How could he present it as if you had a choice to make, as if there were a possibility that you could afford to go with him?

Perhaps you still hold that against him, in a way.

You try not to worry about it, try not to put such negative energy out into the universe, but the truth is that there has never been another man like Clark Kent. None of them even come close — none are anywhere near as kind or caring or intelligent. You think about all the one-night-stands you've had, and how pathetic you always felt whenever you'd have to close your eyes and picture Clark just to get even remotely close to an orgasm.

It's not just the sex that you miss. No, you miss his wit. His sass. His multitudes. He'd get all A's in school, then go skinny dipping in the lake behind your house alongside you. He'd bring the football team to victory, then go home to work on his points for debate club. He'd hold doors for you, but bend you over the bed if you asked nicely.

Clark sighs.

"It's really good to see you," he says. He means it. You hate that you can tell. "I think about you all the time."

"Well, now you're just buttering me up," you chuckle. Clark shakes his head.

"No, no, I mean it," Clark says. Is he doing this on purpose? Can he tell that you're feeling some type of way about all of this? "You cross my mind all the time. I'm really glad you're doing well."

You smile weakly. God, your heart aches. Why couldn't he have stayed here instead of going to Metropolis? What would things look like if he'd never gone? Would the two of you be together still? Married with a cute little house and a family?

"I'm glad you are, too," you say.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Clark asks, handing his menu over to you. You hesitate. You know exactly what this could lead to, but you don't really care. Would it be so bad to share a drink with him? To catch up over a basket of fries? To maybe take him back to your place after this?

"I'd like that," you say, nodding after a moment. "Thank you."

You decide on a cocktail, and Clark nods. He gets to his feet, then crosses the bar to get drinks for the two of you. You watch him, looking him over as the bartender gets to work on your cocktail. He really does look good — better than he did back when you knew him. He's broader, bulkier. His biceps are practically bulging out of his flannel. You look away to keep yourself from drooling.

Clark sits back down in front of you and hands you your cocktail. You blink at him.

"You don't drink?" you ask, noting his…root beer? Who the fuck orders root beer at a bar? Clark shrugs.

"Not really."

"You didn't even want a mocktail?"

Clark chuckles and sips his pop.

"I don't mind people knowing that I don't drink. It's not something to hide."

"I suppose not," you chuckle. "I just don't think I've ever seen anyone order root beer in a place like this."

Clark laughs too, then, and you savor the sound. God, he's handsome. So handsome that it's almost fucking painful.

"So. You got a girl back in Metropolis?" you ask, because you just have to know. There's no point in holding back with him, no point in being shy. You want him. He should know it, you decide, and the first step in letting him know is to get on the topic.

Clark shakes his head.

"No, no. Nothing like that."

"No? Not even a fling?"

"Not even a fling," Clark says, chuckling. Fantastic. He's single. You have a chance.

"I'm shocked," you say sincerely. "You look good."

Clark smiles that boyish smile once again, and your stomach flips.

"You do, too," he says.

Okay. Interesting turn of events…you weren't expecting him to dish out compliments in return. You shift in your seat, then sip your drink. It's then that you seem to notice the look in Clark's pretty blue eyes: he's totally enamored with you. He's staring at you shamelessly, looking you over and letting his eyes linger.

"I don't have anyone. Just, y'know. For the record," you say. "I'm usually too busy for stuff like that."

"Are you saying I should consider myself lucky?" Clark asks. You shrug.

"Maybe," you say. "I'm picky. That's really what it is."

"Got it. I'm definitely lucky."

You smile, but it's only half-there. The music and talking inside the bar seems to fade away, leaving you and Clark as the only things that matter. You hate him for leaving all those years. You love him for happening to step into the bar tonight. You want him for looking this fucking good on a random Friday night.

You take another long sip of your drink. It's strong. You already feeling yourself loosening. You lean back in your seat with a quiet sigh.

"You're the only man in the world," you say finally. Clark looks puzzled.

"Why do you say that?" he asks. You shrug.

"'Cause it's true. You set my standards so fucking high—" He says your name, but you keep going, "— and every man I've been with over the last, what, seven? Eight years? Has been so small in comparison to you."

Clark's cheeks are red. He's not smirking anymore. No, because you knows you mean this. You can see it on his face; he doesn't want to believe you but he does, and that feels scarily real. Frighteningly serious.

He sits with your words for a moment. Mulls them over. You sigh.

"Thanks for the drink. Sorry I made things weird," you say, going to stand. Clark reaches across the table quickly and touches your hand. He stops you. You look at him.

"Don't go. You didn't make anything weird."

"I feel like I did."

"You didn't," Clark says. "Finish your drink. It's okay. I promise."

You sigh, but sit back down anyway. You're too flustered to look at him, but you feel his eyes on you. He's looking you over, taking in your posture, your hands on your drink, your body language. He's always been so observant, your Clark.

Your Clark.

He's not your Clark anymore. He hasn't been for a long time.

"I haven't really dated anyone, either," Clark says finally. You pause, looking up at him. Once again, he means it. He's deeply serious and intentional. Your heart is in your throat, thudding and thumping up a storm, and Clark offers you a shy smile.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," you say, even though you know that's not in his nature. Clark shakes his head.

"I'm not."

Well, fuck. What the hell is this, now? Where is it going to take you? What is going to happen tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that? Clark's just told you that even after all this time, it's still you. He thinks about you all the time, and he hasn't dated anyone. Isn't that definitive confirmation that he still wants you, that he's always wanted you?

Oh, god, you should've found a way to go with him eight years ago. You never should've given him up. It doesn't make sense to think like this, you know it doesn't, but goddammit, you've missed him.

You sigh and take the final sip of your cocktail before meeting Clark's eyes.

"I live alone," you say finally. "Are you staying with your parents?"

Clark nods.

"Yeah," he says. "I'm visiting for the weekend."

You nod.

"…On a scale of one to ten, how concerned would they be if you came back to my place with me?"

Clark smile softly.

"They know I'm clearing my head," he says. "They don't have to know how it is I'm doing that."

Excitement rages within you. This is going to happen. You can hardly believe it.

You nod.

"Did you drive here?" you ask. Clark nods.

"Yeah. I can take you home, if you like. I'm sure your car will be fine overnight, I can—"

You shake your head.

"I can drive. I'm just down the road, anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Clark nods, and the two of you rise to your feet. You grab your keys from your purse, and Clark follows you outside. Your hips sway as you walk just because you know he's watching.

"Follow me, okay?" you say, glancing back at you unlock your car and open the driver side door. Clark nods as he pulls his own keys from his pocket.

"I will," he says. You get into the car, close the door, and buckle your seatbelt. You exhale softly as you pull out of your parking space. Clark does the same. The two of you start down the road towards your place.

It's only a five minute drive tops, but it feels like forever to you. Your body is hot when you pull into your driveway. You're so needy and blinded by lust that you don't have room to feel embarrassed by your slightly messy home. Clark pulls into the driveway and parks his car before turning it off and getting out. You smile at him as he pockets his keys and steps towards you. Your heart is thudding in your chest. Clark's hands smooth over your hips, and you let out a soft breath as you turn away to unlock the front door. It swings open. The two of you step inside, you turn on the lights, and Clark leans down to take off his boots. You let out a shkay breath as you close the door and re-lock it.

When you turn back around, Clark is staring at you.

"You're even prettier when I can see you properly," he says, referring to how dimly-lit the bar was. His words make you want to weep. He always was so romantic, so kind. You lean against the door, then tug him forward by the collar of his flannel. Clark lets himself be pulled forward. His hands find your hips again, and this time they stay there.

You unbutton his flannel slowly as you look up at him.

"You sure you're not just trying to get into my pants?" you tease as Clark leans down to kiss your throat softly. The feeling of it makes your eyes flutter, and you tilt your head to the side to give him plenty of room to do what he pleases.

"Mm mm," he hums, then pulls back and nudges his nose against yours. "I would never do such a thing."

You touch his cheek. How many times have you dreamed of this? How many times have you touched yourself to the thought of him? How many men have you pretended were Clark over the years?

You lean up, then, and press your lips firmly against his. Clark sighs, melting against you instantly. You push his flannel off, then run your hands up under his t-shirt as Clark squeezes your hips. He smooths his hands down over your thighs, then squeezes those, too.

You moan against his mouth, and when he presses his body further against yours, you feel his erection through his jeans. Fuck. The feeling of it makes your pussy throb with want, and you pull his t-shirt up over his head and throw it aside.

"Where's your bedroom?" Clark asks when you part for breath. You tug your shirt off, then reach around to unclip your bra.

"Down the hall, second door on the left," you say as you set your bra aside. Clark is on you again seconds later, squeezing your breasts and lowering his head to suck your nipple into his mouth. You gasp, brows furrowing and lips parting at the feeling.

"Oh, fuck," you sigh. Clark mumbles something, but it's totally muffled by your breast in his mouth, and you don't have the wherewith all to ask him what the hell he said. You run your fingers through his curls, which are lightly gelled and less unkempt than you remember.

"Clark," you moan as he moves over to suck at your other nipple. He looks up at you, then, and your stomach flips. God, he's pretty like this. So fucking gorgeous. "F-Fuck me…"

He moves up to kiss you properly once more, leaving your nipples puffy and sensitive when he pulls away from them. He squeezes your breasts in his big hands, and you moan as you cling to his biceps. He's certainly gained some confidence in the time that the two of you have been apart…

As the two of you kiss, you undo your jeans and underwear and push them down, struggling briefly with your shoes. You stumble against Clark while you wrestle with them, but you get them off moments later along with your pants. Clark supports you when you nearly topple over, and the feeling of his big hands against you has your core pulsing with want.

Clark goes to pull away to get to your bedroom, but you decide suddenly that you can't wait another fucking minute to have him inside of you. You've waited eight years too long. You grab him by the hair and give it a tug.

"Right here," you say. "Against the door."

Clark lets out a soft breath at your request, then nods. You kiss him as he unbuckles his belt, throws it aside, and undoes his jeans. When you feel his bare erection against you, you moan into his mouth and pull back so that you can look down at it. Sure enough, he's hard and leaking at the tip, and the sight makes your mouth water. You curse under your breath.

"I don't have a condom," you tell him, "but I don't mind."

Clark shakes his head.

"Neither do I," he tells you. You hook a leg up around his hip, revealing your core to his hungry eyes, and Clark takes hold of his cock to guide it to your entrance. You hold onto his shoulders tightly, and he presses his tip inside of you slowly. You gasp at the stretch, but the sting quickly turns into pleasure as he presses in further. He pauses when he's halfway in.

"You okay?" he asks softly, holding onto you.

"Yeah," you breathe. "Keep going, fuck…"

Clark presses in further, and your pussy clenches tightly around him. He inhales sharply at the feeling, clearly holding back. You hook your other leg around his hip, and Clark hurries to support your weight by holding you up against the door. You moan as he slips in further.

"Oh, fuck yes," you sigh. "C'mon, Clark…give it to me…"

His hips begin to rock, and you gasp at the feeling. Your head tilts, your eyes roll back.

"Fuuuck yes," you sigh. "T-There we go…so good, Clark…"

"F-Feels nice?" he asks, grinning at you dopily. You smile, kissing him again. This is all you've yearned for for the past eight years. Clark feels so much between than you remember. He's long and thick and hot and leaky, and oh jesus christ he's moving so fast…

You moan shamelessly.

"Yes, oh my god," you breathe. "Please, please…"

You're going dumb on his cock, head falling forward as you keep yourself wrapped around him while he presses you against the door. Clark kisses you.

"Stay with me, baby," he breathes. Baby. It clearly slipped out, it's not like he meant it, but it does things to you just the same. "K-Keep talkin' to me."

"I m-missed this," you admit. "Missed you."

Clark reaches up to squeeze your breast as he moves his hips faster. His cock is so deep inside of you that you don't know where you end and he begins, but isn't that the dream? Isn't that the way you want it?

"I missed you, too," Clark says. "So much…thought— oh, gosh, thought about you e-everytime…"

You moan at his words.

"Don't leave me again," you breathe. "Please…p-please, I don't wanna give this up…"

You're talking crazy, you know it. Long distance would never work…would it? Would he even want to? All the two of you have done is talk and have some mind-blowing sex…is that enough to get Clark to wanna stay in-touch with you? You don't know. You hope so.

"Neither do I," he says, then, and you could weep with relief. He wants you, too. All this time, all these years…what was stopping you from reaching out? Your anger? Your stubbornness? The fact that you'd dumped him out of teenage fury the night that he told you he got into Metropolis University? God, why did you do that?

"I'm sorry," you breathe. "I-I'm sorry for everything."

Clark touches your cheek as he pauses.

"Hey," he says. "Lookit me."

You do. His brows are furrowed. He's worried about you. You don't deserve his worry, you're sure of it.

"I don't blame you. I never did."

Your pussy clenches around his cock, silently asking for him to move faster again. He does, starting his thrusts back up. You nod.

"I know," you say. You push his curls off his forehead. "I do, though."

"Well, s-stop that," Clark breathes, and you chuckle. "I mean it…there's no use in worrying, now…we found each other a-again, right?"

You nod as you look at him.

"Yeah," you breathe. "Y-Yes…"

Clark nods, then caresses your cheek gently before leaning in to kiss you firmly.

"It's alright," he says softly. "I promise."

"Fuck, I don't deserve you," you breathe. "You feel s-so good…"

Clark kisses you again.

"Stop talkin' like that," he says. "You deserve me. You got me."

You gasp when he reaches down to rub your clit, just like how you taught him when the two of you first started fooling around years ago.

"Faster!" you breathe, head falling back against the door as sweat beads at your hairline. You groan as he pounds into you and rubs your clit at the same time. He's amazing. He's otherworldly. He's super.

"Oh, god, yeah! Yes! Just like that!" you moan.

"Do you want me to pull out?" Clark asks softly, eyes fluttering as he moves faster still.

"You better fuckin' not," you warn, and he chuckles.

"Yes, ma'am."

His orgasm comes first. It washes over him like a wave, engulfs him like water. He's still just as pretty when he comes as he was before. Seeing him experiencing so much pleasure and knowing that you're the one who brought it to him…it sends you hurdling over the edge. You gasp, inhaling sharply as your pussy spasms and clenches around his cock.

"Oh, fuck!" you moan, tears of pleasure wetting your lashes as Clark continues to rub your clit even as his thrusts slow. You feel so full of him, so full of love. You rub your fingers through his curls and tug him down so that you can kiss him firmly.

"That was really good," you whisper when he stops. You feel his seed oozing out of you around his cock, and you clench around him just to see his reaction. You smirk when he winces and kisses you again.

"Here, careful," Clark breathes as he pulls out and sets you down. He kisses your forehead when your feet are back on the ground. You smile and wrap your arms around him. He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you.

"Clark…" you breathe, a million words on the tip of your tongue. You have so much to tell him, so much to say, but he calms you with three simple words:

"I've got you."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

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rynwritesstuff - 2026. Do not copy, steal, or repost my work.

showstopper by @tw1sters | scott miller x reader

rabbit by @suprsnupi | clark kent x reader

toy flesh by @velvetground-6 | clark kent x reader (read part one here)

master ragebaiter by @kryptidfiles | clark kent x reader

one more night by @avastarred | dad!scott miller x reader

touch tank by @rosesaints | clark kent x reader

camgirl by @honey-on-your-tongue | clark kent x best friend!reader

ain’t no love in oklahoma by @rynwritesstuff | scott miller x reader

rugby player by @kryptidfiles | clark kent x reader

fight or flight by @tw1sters | scott miller x reader

lessons on sex by @sc3ptre | scott miller x reader (read part two here)

falling for it by @alexs-ummers | clark kent x reader

willing and able by @rynwritesstuff | clark kent x reader

hate that i made you love me by @maiamore | clark kent x reader

the trucker and the waitress by @barbienextdoor | clark kent x reader

The rain is pitter-pattering against the car in strong, steady droplets. They dot the windshield and collect in the car’s nooks and crannies as you drive along the road. The wind is strong, and you hold the steering wheel steady against it as it whips against the side of the truck. Your brows are furrowed in concentration. You’re focused, locked the hell in, and ready for anything.

“Hit the gas. We’re falling behind,” comes a familiar voice from your right. Your grip on the wheel tightens.

“I’m right behind Javi–” 

“You’re about to go uphill, hit the gas,” Scott says again. You glare at him, then press on the pedal and peel ahead down the muddy road. 

“Sorry, did you wanna drive instead?”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” he says. 

“We both know you’re too anxious for that.”

“I absolutely am not–”

“Shut up, you’re distracting me,” you huff, turning up the windshield wipers and adjusting yourself in the seat. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Scott shake his head and clench his jaw. “So fucking bossy,” you mutter.

“At least one of us knows what they’re doing,” Scott says casually. You smack his arm. 

“Stop talking,” you tell him again. “Can’t fucking see in this rain, I don’t need you in my ear at the same time.”

He says nothing else, instead leaning forward in his seat. Suddenly, the storm up ahead seems to change course. You squint, then blink, then reach for your earpiece. 

“Javi,” you say into the mic, “go left.”

“What?” Scott says. “Why would we–?”

“Go left, go left!” you say. Javi’s truck veers to the left, and your heart races in your chest. “It’s moving around. You see it, right?”

“I see it,” Javi says back. 

“That’s not enough of a change to make a difference,” Scott says sharply. “You’re gonna make us lose it.”

“I’m not gonna make us do anything,” you say firmly. “I can just tell that–”

“Don’t do that,” Scott talks over you. 

“--It’s gonna change course, I feel it–”

“How many times have we done this song and dance?” Scott snaps. “It works less than half the time.”

You say nothing, instead pressing on the gas to stay on Javi’s tail. Scott says your name, sharp and angry. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he says, then reaches for his earpiece. 

“Don’t listen to her,” he tells Javi. You whip your head to glare at him. “It’s not moving at a sharp enough angle, the path we were on was perfect–”

“Javi, I’m serious–”

“You two need to pull it together, we’re almost on it. Which way am I going?”

“Right!”

“Left!”

Javi’s truck visibly swerves right for a moment, then suddenly goes left in the direction you suggested. Scott slams his hand against the door of the car as you follow behind Javi. 

“We won’t be close enough!” he says. You stare straight ahead as you approach the storm. Javi pulls aside and gets out to drop down the radar machine. You drive along a bit further, then put the car in park and unbuckle quickly. Scott is shaking his head furiously as he gets out, too. 

“What’s the matter with you!?” he shouts over the wind as you work together to drop down the radar machine. You glance at him, at his angry face, the bulging muscles in his arms, the soaked shirt clinging to his chest. He gestures behind you. Then, you turn and look back at the storm as Scott announces that Scarecrow is down to Javi.

Your stomach drops. 

Damn your depth perception. Damn your gut for misguiding you. Damn Javi for listening to you. 

The storm has returned to its original course, and you’re no longer in a good position for it to pass over the radar machine in an effective manner. Fuck. Fuck. 

Scott is hurrying back to the car, and you curse under your breath as your cheeks get hot. Javi is talking in your earpiece, saying something about how there isn’t enough time to haul the machines back up and move ahead, that it’ll have to just collect what it collects, that whatever happens it’s okay, that you guys will have another chance. That it’s okay. 

You get back into the driver seat and buckle up before pulling away to follow Javi. Scott is shaking his head again. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and when you see the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears have flushed, you clench your jaw. He’s angry. He’s pissed. He’s fucking livid.

“-- and I told you it wasn’t a good idea!” you tune back in as he talks. “You don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone but yourself, you do whatever the hell you want even if it’ll cost us.”

“I get it,” you hear yourself say, embarrassment washing over you.

“Do you? Do you really? That’s what you say every time, I’ve heard it over and over and over.”

Javi talks in the earpiece again as the storm passes. You feel hot and shaky as you drive along, as you move away from the storm and its effects. Scott mutters to himself as he looks at the small bit of data you were able to collect from today’s botched adventure. You tune him out as best you can, but you feel angry – like an exposed nerve being touched every single time Scott says something. 

You pull into the parking lot of the motel as the gray clouds move overhead. Scott gets out the moment the car is parked, and he slams the door on his way as he mumbles something along the lines of today being pointless.

Fury swells in your chest, this having been the final straw after a humiliating car ride. 

“Say it to my face,” you call after him, getting out of the car and fumbling for your room key. Scott pauses, glancing back at you. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Whatever you just said. Say it to my face,” you say as the other StormPar cars roll in. Javi approaches the two of you – you, mostly, because he knows you all too well, and he feels badly for putting you with Scott in the first place. If only he hadn’t been working with a new hire, he could’ve ridden with his partner and had him all to himself. Lucky him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Javi says before Scott can respond. Javi puts his hand on your shoulder. “No one’s mad at you. It happens.”

You don’t take your eyes off of Scott.

“She ruined today’s chase,” Scott says, quietly enough for Javi and Javi only to hear. “Stop babying her, she’s a big girl.”

“Fuck you,” you snap, emotion swelling. Javi steps between you and Scott, blocking him from your vision. He says your name soft and kind. You look at him finally. 

“Go calm down,” Javi says to you. “Take a breather.”

You open your mouth to speak, then storm towards your room, key in-hand. You hear footsteps, then Javi saying, “Leave her, man.”

You unlock the door, step inside, slam the door behind you, and lean down to untie your boots. You set them next to the door to dry, then smooth your hands over your hair as you let out a shaky breath. With trembling hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt to undo them and remove it. The talking outside your room has quieted. Five minutes have passed since you snapped at Scott, and you sniffle as you toss your StormPar shirt aside. 

Knock, knock, knock.

You startle slightly, then lean up on your tip-toes to peer through the peephole. Anger roars in your gut once more. Of course Scott’s back for more. 

“Go away.”

“No.”

“I’m serious,” you warn, reaching for the door handle. You swallow harshly. “I-I’m serious.”

“I know,” he says. “Let me in.”

You yank the door open suddenly, inhaling as you do. You glare at him with eyes that he could get lost in, and Scott takes a step forward. 

“Back up,” you say. He doesn’t. “Back up–”

“What is your problem?” he asks.

“My problem? What is my problem? What’s your problem!?” you ask as he steps inside. You close and lock the door behind him. “You embarrassed me in front of Javi.”

“You embarrassed yourself,” Scott says, looking you over and taking in your tear-stained cheeks. “You need to get your priorities straight.”

“Is that what this is? You came here to give me a motivational speech?” 

“I came here to tell you that Javi feels bad,” Scott snaps. You pause. 

“What?” 

“He feels bad for you. You should probably text him and tell him you’re fine.”

You huff softly. Fucking Javi. Poor, kind-hearted, well-intentioned Javi. 

“Okay. I will. You can go now.”

Scott says your name, then. It’s low. Dangerous. Riddled with lust. You glance at his crotch, then scoff. 

“You’re a fuckin’ freak, you know that?” you say sharply. He takes a step towards you. 

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Scott says. “I know you too well.”

“Not well enough,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. When you do, your cleavage is made visible due to the low-cut tank top you’re wearing. Scott takes another step forward. 

“You’re an idiot, you know,” he says. It’s got no bite behind it. Your eye twitches. 

“And you’re a dick,” you say, leaning back against the wall. “You have some nerve coming in here after the way you talked to me.”

“Maybe,” Scott says, taking hold of your wrists and pinning you against the wall you’re already leaning against. “Or maybe I just know how to get you to calm down. I’m doing you a favor, really.”

“Oh, so I should be thanking you, huh?” you ask, heat blooming between your thighs as Scott’s big hands hold you. 

“That’s the idea,” he says. He looks you over hungrily. You are silent for a few moments, weighing your options. You want him, there’s no doubt about that. But you’re also embarrassed, and angry, and absolutely boiling over with the desire to let him have it. You give him a challenging look. 

“Make me,” you dare him. Scott smirks, then lowers his head to nip at your throat. You inhale sharply, eyes fluttering as his grip on your wrists tightens. He keeps you pinned firmly against the wall and fits his knee between your thighs. 

“Mm. You’re warm,” he hums. Your hands clench into fists and you push against him. He keeps you pinned firmly, though, and presses his body against yours. 

“It’s summertime,” you manage. Scott laughs at your pathetic attempt to explain away the heat radiating from you. 

“Right. I suppose that’s the reason you’re humping my leg, too?”

You still your hips, which you didn’t even realize were moving in the first place. 

“I’m not humping you,” you say sharply. Scott takes hold of the hem of your tank top and tugs it up over your head to reveal your breasts, which are nestled in your bra. He unclips your bra and tosses that aside too.

“Mm, lookit these,” Scott sighs, lowering his head to lip and nip at your boobs. You bite your lip and wiggle your hips against him intentionally this time. “So pretty. Best tits I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re easy,” you tease breathlessly. You try to reach for his hair, but his hands are still tight around your wrists. “Let me go. Wanna touch you.”

“Mm mm,” he hums. “So pretty pinned against the wall…”

“Perv,” you sigh as he tongues at your nipple. Scott pulls away after a moment, then begins to unbutton his shirt. You take the opportunity to shoo his hands away and do it yourself, and he smirks softly as you undo the buttons and push the shirt down his arms. Scott tugs his undershirt off, and you touch his pecs as you look him over. 

You stare at him shamelessly, taking in the trail of dark hair starting at his navel and continuing down into his pants. You run your fingers along it, humming as you do. 

“Like what you see?” Scott asks as he tugs you towards the bed and shoves you down onto it. Your breasts bounce and he tugs your pants down. 

“Shut up,” you tell him as you wiggle out of your pants and underwear, leaving you totally nude on the bed. Scott goes to get on top of you, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Lose your pants.”

He smirks again.

“And you say I’m the bossy one,” he says as he kicks off his boots, then undoes his zipper and pushes his pants down. You bite your lip when he removes his underwear. His cock is hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip, and you spread your legs.

“You are bossy,” you say as he gets on top of you once more. Scott takes hold of his cock and guides it to your dripping entrance.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Scott breathes as he presses the tip in. You inhale sharply, clenching around him and he grunts. “She’s sucking me in, need it bad, hm?”

You give his hand a tug.

“Stop fucking talking and get in me,” you warn. “Or I can take care of this myself.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Scott says as he pushes the rest of the way in. “We both know your vibrator won’t do the trick when the real thing’s right here.”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that he knows it.

“Fuck,” you sigh as he pushes in all the way. You hold onto his strong arms and give his biceps a squeeze. “Move, Scott.”

“I should really make you ask nicely, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles, then starts to rock his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, slowly at first then getting gradually faster. You sigh softly, brows furrowing in pleasure. Your hold on him tightens. 

“Faster,” you moan quietly. Your breasts bounce with the force of Scott’s thrusts, and you moan sharply when he leans down to nip at your right boob. “Fuck, be gentle!”

“You don’t like gentle,” Scott says. “You and I both know that.”

You moan again when he sucks your nipple into his mouth and lets his teeth graze over you. Your core is soaked and hot and clenching around his cock like a vice, holding onto him like it needs him. Scott knows it, too, and you hate that he does. You hate that he has this effect on you, but the truth is that he understands you in a way no one else does. 

That’s what being together for years gets you, you suppose. 

Scott says something, but you’re so lost in thought that you don’t catch it. You open your eyes to meet his, which are darkened from lust. 

“Huh?” you manage. He chuckles. 

“I s-said you should…Fuck…Probably thank me, now.”

Your brows furrow and you roll your eyes. Of course. He wants his ego stroked. 

“Why would I do that?” you ask sharply, still gripping his strong arms as he pounds you into the mattress. Each sharp, deep thrust makes his cock rub up against your g-spot, and you grunt quietly at the feeling. 

“Because you’re not coming unless you do,” he says. You glare at him. 

“Fuck you.”

“Go on,” Scott breathes. His thrusts are getting sloppy, which is a telltale sign that he’s getting close to his climax. “I know you can do it. Be a good girl.”

“D-Don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

Scott’s fingers find your clit, and you gasp at the feeling of him touching you. He rubs your sensitive bud in tight, skilled circles as you groan and wiggle your hips. Your pussy clenches again, squeezing him and making him grunt. 

“I’m being so nice,” Scott sighs. “Gonna let you come. Just thank me for making you feel good.”

You throw your head back, teetering right on the edge of orgasm. Your body is hot and tense and ready to explode with pleasure. You cry out, lips parting. 

“T-Thank you,” you manage, voice high and needy. Scott kisses you. It’s deep and wet and messy, and you moan against his mouth as you fall right over the edge. Your climax washes over you like a wave of heat, a blanket of warmth. You moan and sigh, tears welling up in your eyes as Scott reaches his own orgasm and fucks his seed deep inside of you. 

“Fuck,” you breathe as his hips slow to a stop. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you catch your breath, and you loosen your grip on his biceps as he stills his hips. His lips are parted, sweat beads at his hairline, and his checks have flushed. You touch his cheek.

Scott hums, then pulls out of you.

“How was that, princess?” he asks, moving back and reaching for his underwear. You roll your eyes and sit up.

“And just like that, I’m all dried up,” you say, still catching your breath. Scott hums as he pulls his underwear and pants on. He buttons and zips them, then reaches for his undershirt. You stare shamelessly as he gets re-dressed. He pulls on his StormPar shirt and begins to button it up. 

You should say something, you know that. He humiliated you, made you look like an idiot in front of Javi, but something tells you that now isn’t the time. He looks so handsome and worn-out, and something deep inside of you aches to kiss him once more before he goes. 

Scott tucks his shirt in and pulls his boots on, then glances back at you as he starts towards the door. 

“Get some rest,” he says. You nod, letting out a soft, tired breath. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

“Don’t forget to text Javi,” he says, smoothing his hair down. “He thinks you’re in hysterics.”

“Okay,” you say, reaching for your phone. Scott stares at your nude form for a few seconds longer, then reaches for the door handle.  “I’ll see you,” he says, then leaves without another word.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Author's Note: This is the first installment in my divorced Scott & Reader oneshot series! I'd like to thank @corens0ups for enabling and encouraging me to write this AU over the past few months, and @avastarred for inspiring me with her fantastic Dad!Scott series. I am so lucky :'))

Taglist: @corens0ups @brucesfavebabymama-28 @avastarred @supermanville @whydontyouputyourseatbelton @punyparkerr (Are you interested in joining one or more of my taglists? Please fill out the anonymous google form here to let me know!)

rynwritesstuff - 2026. Do not copy, steal, or repost my work.

Things are quiet in Clark's apartment when you unlock the door and step inside. You re-lock the door behind you, then take a few steps inside.

"Clark?" you call.

Your body is burning up, engulfed by the fire that is Clark Kent.

You're convinced that he knew exactly what he was doing earlier, texting you like that while you were working. Sure, you started it, but you didn't really expect him to go along with it. He hardly ever does when you send him sexy pictures. No, instead he compliments you and saves the appreciation for when the two of you are together again

But today? Oh, god, today he went for it. Well, 'went for it' by Clark's standards. He must've been worked up since he's working from home today.

So, when you sent a picture of your cleavage? His response was: Prettiest pair in the whole wide world, honey. Wish I could touch you right now.

You were immediately hot and bothered, and in response to his response, you'd sent another image, one that you'd taken last night with your breasts completely exposed and on display.

The three little dots of his reply blinked on your phone screen, and you had stared and stared and stared until his words popped up: So beautiful. They're perfect. I want them in my mouth.

Your jaw had dropped. Your core was liquid, and you had to excuse yourself to go to the restroom. Clark is hardly ever this forward. You pictured him in your mind's eye, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. Was he touching himself? Was he holding his phone in one hand and stroking his cock with the other? Shirt pulled up to expose his happy trail, his strong tummy?

Oh, god.

Your head was light and spinning. You felt dizzy with want, with desire. You'd glanced at your watch, and when you saw that you only had about an hour left of your shift, you sighed.

Fuck.

Fuck you, Clark Kent, and your polite dirty talk.

You'd splashed water on your face before responding to him: I want you so bad. Can hardly stand it. I'm coming over after work.

His reply was immediate: Yes, please. Can't wait to make you feel good, honey.

You'd bit your lip, then looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked…frazzled. You touched your cheek, just to find it burning hot. Want tugged at your chest. You were positive that you'd die if you didn't have Clark's cock within the next half hour.

So, you did what any logical person would do, and went to your supervisor to explain why you were leaving work an hour early.

The drive was excruciating. Every stop sign, every red light, every time you go cut off by someone else — it all added up. Your thighs were pressed together, heat blooming between them. You were positive that your arousal was starting to stain your panties, and you knew Clark would be thrilled when he finally sees it, but now? It felt like some sick sign from the universe, a message that's showing you what you're going to get but can't quite have yet.

You shifted in your seat as you drove, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. When you reached Clark's apartment, you wasted no time in locking your car and starting towards the elevator. It took you up, up, up, and now? Here you are, standing in Clark's entryway, calling out to him.

He peeks his head out of his office, brows slightly furrowed.

"Honey? I thought you got off at—"

You set your purse aside, kick your shoes off, and drop down onto your knees. You begin to crawl towards Clark as he trails off. He looks you over, clearly surprised and aroused at once. He steps out into the hallway. He's wearing a t-shirt and jeans, which isn't a big deal, aside from the fact the his bulge looks delicious. You let out a soft breath when you reach him and get up to kneel in front of him. You're eye-level with his crotch, and you shamelessly press your face against it. You breathe him in. Oh, god…he wants this, too.

You let out a soft moan when Clark reaches down to smooth his hand over the back of your head.

"Honey…what's gotten into you?" he asks quietly. You look up at him, and he touches your cheek.

"You," you tell him. You let your jaw drop open, and Clark runs his thumb along your bottom lip.

"You left work just to come here?" Clark asks, voice low. You nod, taking his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it. Clark exhales softly. "I didn't realize you needed it that badly…"

You chuckle, pulling off of his thumb with a pop before beginning to undo his jeans. He touches your cheek as you reach into his underwear and pull his throbbing, leaking cock free. It's flushed and hard, and pre-come beads at the tip. Your mouth waters.

"I fucking love your cock," you breathe. You hold his heavy balls in your hand as you kiss along the side of his member. His pre-come smears across your cheek, but you don't mind in the slightest. Clark lets out a soft, shaky breath.

"Honey—"

"Shh," you shush him. "Let me take care of you. You'll have a turn soon."

Clark inhales sharply when you take his cock into your mouth. You start with just the tip. You let saliva flood your mouth, and the feeling of your wet warmth makes Clark reach out to steady himself against the wall.

"O-Oh, golly…" he breathes. You chuckle.

"Mmm. You taste so good, baby," you breathe. You take him in a bit further, jaw aching already due to the sheer girth of him. You moan against him and push yourself deeper, taking as much of him as you can before gagging. He tries to pull you off, but you stay, trying to let your throat relax against his giant cock.

"Breathe, h-honey," Clark manages. You breathe through your nose and look up at him. He's holding back. You know it. You give his balls a squeeze, then touch his hip. You nod, pushing his hip before pulling him back forward. Clark gasps at the feeling of fucking your mouth. It's soft and slow and he's nowhere near as rough as you'd like him to be, but he's doing it.

The feeling of it, of being on your knees, you mouth full of cock…it makes your core burn. You're on fire, sweat beading at your hairline as you gag softly. You encourage Clark to keep going when he tries to stop. You look up at him. He's so pretty like this — falling apart but trying not to.

You hum, pulling off only when Clark's hips begin to move faster. You smirk, licking your lips as he grunts softly.

"You were close, hm?" you ask, rubbing his hips as he catches his breath. Clark nods.

"Yes," he sighs. You hum, smiling as you look up at him. He holds your face in his hand, chest heaving. You pull off your shirt, then, and toss it aside. You reach around to undo your bra, then toss that aside, too. Clark practically moans at the sight of your bare breasts.

"C'mere," he manages, taking your hand to help you up. You stand, and Clark picks you up in such a way that allows him to press his face between your tits as he walks you over to the couch. You run your fingers through his hair as he kisses and licks at them. His tongue laves over your right nipple, and you let out a soft, shaky breath as you tug at his dark locks.

"You been thinkin' about these?" you ask, looking at him as he sets you down on the couch.

"Mhm," Clark practically moans, sucking your nipple into his mouth completely. You run your hands along his shoulders and biceps, letting out quiet sighs as he moves to suck on your other nipple. He massages your breasts as he does this, and your back arches up into his touch.

"Fuck," you sigh. "Get in me…"

"Hm?" Clark asks, looking up at you with those wide, blue eyes of his. You bite your lip as you touch his cheek. You smirk.

"On second thought, get off of me," you tell him. Clark pulls away instantly.

"W-What—"

"Get on your back, I'm gonna ride you," you say, shoving at his chest. Clark lets out a soft, relieved breath. You chuckle. He really thought you were telling him to stop.

As if you'd ever ask him to do a silly thing like that.

Clack lies back, and you take off your pants and panties before getting back on top of him completely naked. Clark looks up at you intently, his pretty eyes sparkling with lust and arousal. You position yourself over his cock, and as you do, you run your hands beneath his t-shirt.

"Get this off," you tell him softly. He does so quickly, pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it aside. You hum at the sight of his built form. His pecs, his shoulders, his stomach…god, and the trail of hair that runs down towards his cock…

You bite your lip and sink down to take him inside of you. You groan when he fills you, and Clark's hands fly to your hips to hold onto you.

"Honey, please…" Clark sighs. You nod, eyes fluttery as you take him all the way. You begin to bounce after a few moments, and Clark gasps, lips parting. He leans up to kiss you, and you hold onto him as your lips work against his sloppily. He tastes himself on your mouth, and it makes him moan.

"I-I'm…Glad you came here," Clark sighs. "Oh, gosh…mmm…thought about you a-all day…"

"Yeah?" you hum, breasts bouncing as you move on top of him. "Did you touch yourself?"

Clark shakes his head.

"Wanted to wait for you," he sighs. "Oh, g-golly…Honey—"

"Not even when I sent you a picture o-of my tits?" you ask, pouting playfully. Clark kisses you again.

"I thought about it," he admits breathily. "But I wanted to wait until I s-saw you…I'm glad I did…"

You chuckle.

"You're saving that big load for me, huh?" you tease, resting your hands on his chest as you bounce faster. You reach down to rub your clit quickly, and you gasp at the feeling. Clark looks you over, his cock throbbing inside of you. He's getting close. You can tell by the fact that he's grunting and groaning and pushing his hips up against you.

"I-I guess you could say that," Clark chuckles. You kiss him again.

"Give it to me, baby," you breathe. You bite at his lip, worrying it between your teeth briefly before letting it pop back in place. He kisses you again immediately, and you smirk.

He'd never admit it, but Clark loves it when you get rough with him. He's so strong, so gentle, but you know he likes having you bite and lick and scratch. You're so open about what you want, such a good self-advocate. You let your freak flag fly, and Clark is always enjoys it when you do.

He pushes his hips up in time with your thrusts, and you grunt as he hits your g-spot.

"Fuck, that's it…there we go…" you breathe. "Fill me up…get me full…"

Clark lets out a strangled grunt. He squeezes your breasts, and you lean into his touch.

Your orgasm is rising, rising, rising—

"Honey!" Clark exclaims suddenly, falling over the edge and moaning shamelessly. Feeling his seed, hot and abundant, deep inside of you, sends your orgasm crashing down around you.

"Oh, fuck," you breathe, eyes fluttering as you rub your clit and continue to bounce on top of him. When you feel his cock softening inside of you, you pause, rubbing a few more circles around your clit before relaxing on top of him.

Clark cups your cheek and kisses you firmly.

"Good gosh, I love you," he sighs, breathless with want, with love. You give him a dazed smile.

"I love you too," you sigh. You nudge your nose against his. "So much."

Clark wraps his arms around you and pulls you down so that you're lying on top of him. You hum, nestling your face against his pecs happily. Clark kisses the top of your head.

"I'm gonna send you boob pictures more often," you say, smiling as you catch your breath. Clark chuckles.

"I've created a monster," he teases. You smile up at him.

"You certainly have."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Taglist: @avastarred @supermanville @whydontyouputyourseatbelton @kryptidfiles @spookypersondinosaur @corens0ups

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rynwritesstuff - 2026. Do not copy, steal, or repost my work.