⭑ 𓂃 18+ | superboy prime who’s scared of fucking you.
#drabble.ᐟ ⸝⸝ post redemption!superboy prime ⸝⸝ riding ⸝⸝ nervous!clark ⸝⸝ smutty&mdni!! .
✦ masterlist ╱ dc masterlist 𓏼 ͜͜
the door to your apartment barely clicks shut before you’re on him like a starved dog, hands fisting in his shirt as you drag him down the hallway toward your bedroom like you’re done with all the polite bullshit. clark lets out a startled laugh, trying to play it cool even as his ears flush pink. he’s trying hard not to show just how turned on he is by being woman-handled like that. “i wasn’t gonna leave this time, i swear,” he mutters against your mouth, voice soft and just a little bit whiny, but you both know that’s a load of crap—he’s been pulling excuses for weeks. too scared to fuck you because well… for starters, he’s never done this before. and secondly he’s scared of hurting you. adorable, right?
you push him until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sits down hard, glasses slipping, and eyes wide as you peel your dress off in one smooth motion. black lace bra, matching panties. fuck, the way he stares makes heat pool low in your belly.
“jesus,” he mutters under his breath, hands twitching at his sides like he doesn’t know what the hell to do with them.
you straddle his lap fast, knees bracketing his hips, and grind down once just to feel him. “clark,” you breathe, already working his shirt open button by button and shoving it off those broad, tense shoulders. “i’ve been patient enough. you’re not backing out tonight.”
“yeah?” his voice comes out rougher than he probably means, trying to sound confident as his palms settle on your waist. “guess i finally came to my senses.” his fingers are warm against your skin, but you catch the slight tremble he’s trying to hide.
you smirk, grab his right hand, and drag it up until it cups your breast, pressing his palm firm against you. “like this,” you whisper, guiding him. “you’re not gonna break me, clark. i’m not made of glass.”
his breath hitches hard, but he squeezes anyway, thumb brushing over your nipple as you arch into it. he feels it pebble beneath his finger and you feel his cock twitch under you, thick and straining against his jeans already.
“you’re really sure?” he asks, voice low, trying to smirk even as his other hand stays hesitant. he wonders why there’s no crash course on how to fuck if you’ve got dormant powers and you’re too scared to get in bed with a lady because of them.“i’m… kinda new to the whole ‘not accidentally leveling a building during sex’ thing.” he leans in like he’s got this, kissing the side of your neck, then lower, lips brushing the swell of your tit while his fingers explore more boldly now that you’ve shown him it’s okay. reassurance is important with a guy who’s done the shit he has.
you moan softly and roll your hips again, feeling how hard he is. “take my bra off.”
his hands shake just a little undoing the clasp, but he manages, letting the lace fall away. he stares for a second, then both hands are on you, squeezing, thumbs circling your nipples until they’re tight and aching. when you gasp his name he gains just a little bit of confidence, enough to lean in and suck one into his mouth, tongue flicking wet and hot. “fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he mutters against your skin, voice rough as hell. “been thinking about this… a lot.”
“yeah?” you grind down harder on the thick bulge in his pants, feeling him throb like he’s about to burst any minute. “you’ve been jerking off thinking about me, haven’t you?” it was a lucky shot, but the way he chuckles nervously and his face flushes tells you you hit the nail on the head with it.
his ears burn red but he tries to play it cocky. like he doesn’t feel like a teenage virgin. “i— maybe.” he squeezes harder when you moan, hips bucking up once like he can’t help it. “can you blame me? look at you.”
you push him flat on his back, working his belt open fast and shoving his jeans and boxers down his thighs. his cock springs up, thick and flushed, leaking at the tip, veins standing out along the shaft. “shit— you’re big,” you murmur appreciatively, wrapping your hand around him and giving one slow, firm stroke from base to head, spreading the precum.
clark hisses through his teeth, head dropping back. “f-fuck— easy, i’m—” he bites the inside of his cheek hard, but his hips jerk up into your fist anyway, chasing the heat. the friction he’s needed for so fucking long. finally it’s not his own miserable hand that’s fucking him.
you lean over him, lips brushing his ear as you keep pumping him lazy and tight. “relax, baby. i’ve got you.” you kiss down his chest, slow and deliberate, tongue tracing the lines of muscle while your hand twists just right at the head on every upstroke. every time he tenses like he’s about to get too in his head, you squeeze harder or drag your thumb over his slit and he loses the words in a groan.
finally you slide your panties off, kicking them aside, and position yourself over him, rubbing his fat tip against your slick, dripping folds. clark’s hands fly to your hips, gripping tight then forcing himself to loosen up, like he’s terrified of leaving any marks or bruises.
“wait—condom?” he asks, voice strained but trying to sound steady. his chest’s heaving now, breathing totally messed up. who can blame him when he’s this close to being inside you.
“on the nightstand. but i’m on the pill and i trust you.” you sink down just enough for his head to catch at your entrance, teasing. “you still nervous?”
he lets out a shaky laugh, but his eyes are dark and hungry when they meet yours. “me, nervous?—okay, a little.”
you smile, the same one that gets him aching, and slowly sink down onto him, inch by thick inch. the stretch is perfect—he fills you so deep your thighs tremble when he bottoms out.
clark’s head falls back against the pillow with a broken groan. “oh my god—you’re so fucking tight— shit—” his fingers dig into your hips, trembling with the effort of staying still, cock pulsing hot and heavy inside you like he’s trying to hold back from blowing his load right then and there.
you moan too, the sound’s music to his ears, adjusting to the fullness, walls fluttering around him. for a second you both stay still, just breathing each other in.
“you okay?” you ask, brushing hair off his forehead and adjusting his skewered glasses for him. he’d forgotten they were even there. he sighs when your nails lightly scratch his scalp.
he nods from behind the foggy frames, eyes half-lidded and glassy. “yeah. just… don’t move yet or i’m gonna embarrass myself.” that crooked, self-deprecating smirk tugs at his mouth, but he’s trying to sound cocky anyway. he really is. “super stamina apparently doesn’t apply when it’s this good.”
you laugh softly and roll your hips once, slow and deep, grinding your clit against him. clark curses loud, hands sliding up your back, pulling you down so your chests press together, skin hot and slick already.
“move,” he whispers against your lips, voice rough and desperate with want. “please. i wanna feel you.”
you start riding him properly then, lifting up and sinking back down, taking him to the hilt every time. clark groans, hips twitching up to meet you, still careful but starting to find the rhythm. his hands stay on your hips, guiding you a little better now, thumbs pressing into your skin like he’s testing how much he can hold on.
“fuck, baby— that feels good,” he mutters, voice gaining a bit more edge. he thrusts up harder on the next downstroke, burying himself deep, and when you moan loud he does it again, a little more sure. “yeah? you like that?”
“mm, yeah— just like that, clark,” you praise, rolling your hips faster, tits bouncing with every movement. he watches them like they’ve hypnotized him, then leans up to catch one in his mouth again, sucking harder while he starts fucking up into you with shallow, eager thrusts.
little by little the hesitation cracks. his grip tightens—not enough to hurt, but enough that you feel it—and his thrusts get deeper and steadier. every time you clench around his thick cock he curses under his breath, but now there’s a cocky little smirk tugging at his lips when he sees how wrecked you look. all because of him—all for him.
“shit, princess… you’re dripping all over me,” he says, voice low and rougher, trying to lean into that confidence. he flips you suddenly—careful but quick—onto your back, settling between your thighs without pulling out. “my turn to take care of you.”
he pushes back in slow at first, watching your face, but when your legs wrap around his waist and you dig your heels into his back he loses a little more of that nervous edge. his hips snap forward harder, cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you on every thrust.
“fuck— you feel so good,” he groans, burying his face in your neck for a second before he pulls back to look at you. “been wanting this… wanted to fuck you right for so long.” his pace picks up, steady and deep now, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he gains more confidence with every moan you give him. his glasses keep tipping off his nose so he eventually just pulls them off entirely, tossing them carelessly onto the nightstand.
you reach up, tugging his hair. “yeah? then don’t hold back, baby. give it to me.”
clark’s eyes darken. he hooks one of your legs higher, spreading you wider, and starts fucking you harder—still very much controlled, still watching for any sign he’s too much, but clearly loosened up enough to get lost in it—in you. his cock stretches you perfectly on every thrust, thick and relentless now that he’s letting himself go a bit more. he can’t believe he’s been running from this and settling for his hands every night. what a fucking idiot.
“like this?” he rasps, all smug but breathy, slamming in deep and grinding against your clit. “tell me how you want it. i can take it… i can handle you.” his free hand slides between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing messy circles, learning fast from the way your pussy clenches tight around him.
you’re moaning his name louder, nails raking down his back, and it only makes him thrust faster, more sure of himself. the nervous virgin from ten minutes ago is starting to disappear under the heat—replaced by a clark who’s fucking you like he’s determined to make up for every single time he ran.
© nagumolvr , you do not have permission to translate, steal, repost, or feed my work to ai.
sy actually writes something that isn’t Jason ?!?!? Idt this qualifies as a drabble bcz it might be too long but whatever LMAO
