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imgoddamnloislane · 2 days ago

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"then you'd better keep quiet" | clark kent x fem!reader

summary: you and clark hold a dinner party for your friends - but he wants you two to do something else… (w.c. 1119)

warnings: 18+ mdni, pure smut, dirty talk, quickie, no fuckin around just F U C K I N, clark is so soft but there's no way he's not a monster in the bedroom

a/n: just a short something while i work on some longer stuff :) hope ur all having a fabby weekend <3

You’ve been looking forward to this dinner party with yours and Clark’s friends for weeks.

The whole apartment filled with people the two of you love. Drinks in glasses, laughter on everyone’s lips. You had even planned the menu out in advance, getting ready to fill everyone’s stomachs with good, hearty food.

Only it seems Clark wants to fill you with something different.

You notice it from the moment you start greeting your friends. Every time you look over at your boyfriend, he already has his eyes on you. And there’s something in them. A dark tinge, a mischievous lilt; an ulterior motive. One hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other curled around the stem of a red wine glass. You swear you even see him lick his lips.

It gets worse when you sit down at the dinner table.

You each take the top seats, facing one another, and your friends populate the ones on either side of you. Lois, Jimmy, Cat, Steve; even Perry managed to make it tonight. Everyone begins to tuck into the food you’ve made for them. But not you and Clark, not just yet.

As you start spooning potatoes onto your plate, you catch his gaze again. It’s just as hungry as before. You send him back a look, your eyebrows raising and your eyes questioning.

In one movement, you know exactly what he’s thinking about.

Someone passes a serving plate to him and he takes it, saying thanks. Of course he does, he’s Clark. But his eyes don’t leave you. Instead, as he’s placing the meat on his plate, his head lulls very pointedly to his left, your right.

Your bedroom door.

Your eyes widen, a wave of heat rushing through you. You almost drop the spoon in your hand.

“Now?” You mouth.

He shakes his head. “After food.”

And then Jimmy catches his attention, taking him away from you. But the thought of what he wants lingers with you for the rest of your meal, fills your mind even through each joke and conversation. Your body aches for him, your skin hiving at the idea of his hands on you.

So, as soon as you place the empty plates beside the sink, your friends preoccupied with one another, you seek out Clark. You know exactly where he’s disappeared to. You have to restrain yourself from running to join him.

You turn the handle of your bedroom door slowly, trying not to draw the attention of your friends.

The moment you step through, Clark’s hands are on you, wrapped around your waist. He pulls you close to him as he closes the door with a large hand, and then puts you up against the wall beside it. You wrap your legs around him.

He wastes no time in capturing your mouth with his.

His kiss is eager and sloppy, his wet tongue immediately finding yours. Your hips roll where your bodies are flush with one another, and you snake your hands into his hair. You know he loves it when you tug on the dark strands.

He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place, but curls the other around the curve of your ass. He gives it a hard squeeze, and you let out a soft squeal into his mouth.

He chuckles low against your lips. His blue eyes are open now, staring into yours. They’re dark, hooded; eager.

He brings his lips to your neck. “You look delicious tonight, baby. You really think I’d be able to leave you alone, walking around like that? I want you right now.”

“But our friends are outside,” you laugh, squirming under his touch as he leaves wet kisses on your skin.

Clark lifts his head, giving you a smile that can only mean trouble. His eyes sparkle. “Then you’d better keep quiet.”

Your lips crash into each other again, and you reach for the buckle of his belt. He catches your wrist, lowering your feet back to the floor, and he spins you around so you’re flush against the wall.

Your breasts heave, nipples pebbled beneath your bra, and you let out a hot breath as he lifts up your dress. You hear him scoff before his lips are back at your ear.

“No panties?” He hums. “Was that for me, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathe, “all for you.”

Clark chuckles again. You hear him fiddling with his belt, his zipper, and then he’s there at your entrance, pushing, stretching you. Even after being with him so many times, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how big he is.

He knows you well, giving you a moment to adjust. But then he’s pounding into you, burying himself inside you to the hilt with a rhythm that brings tears to your eyes. You splay your hands against the wall, and bite at your bottom lip to stop yourself from yelling out.

His hand moves from your waist, snaking up your torso until it finds your neck. Then he wraps his hand around it.

Fuck, he’s so fucking good.

He uses his new hand placement to pull you even closer to him, his dick still sunk into your pussy. You can practically feel it in your stomach.

“Does it make you even wetter knowing our friends are just outside?” Clark asks into your ear. You try to give him an answer but it just comes out as a strangled groan. “That’s what I thought, baby. They’re outside but you’re in here, all mine.”

Waves of pleasure start to build in your stomach, a sign you’re reaching your climax. Clark knows this, too.

He brings his other hand to your pussy, finding your bud of nerves, using one of his calloused pads to rub you to completion. It doesn’t take long until you're fracturing around him.

He pushes his fingers into your mouth, and you moan around them, tears now streaking down your cheeks.

Clark finds his climax too and growls as you feel his heat seep inside you. He holds you flush against him, allowing the two of you to catch your breath again, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before he pulls out of you.

“You’re a dream, baby,” he says, pressing his lips to yours once more.

As he’s pulling himself back together, he pats your ass, sending you off in the direction of your bathroom.

As you step inside, you hear him open the door and ask your friends loudly, “Who’s ready for dessert, then?”

You laugh.

That’s your Clark for you. A gentleman in public and a devil in the bedroom.

You wouldn’t change him for the world.

#superman #superman 2025 #clark kent x reader #clark kent x fem!reader #clark kent x female reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman imagine #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut #superman smut #david corenswet #smut #mdni #superman has got me back in my writing era #superman fanfiction #i dont own the gif or the photo

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imgoddamnloislane · 6 days ago

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"you asked to see me, sir?" | boss!clark kent x fem!reader

summary: clark kent is your grumpy boss. you’ve been hopelessly attracted to him for years. one evening, he calls you into his office, and you find out he’s even bossier than you first thought… (w.c. 2,928)

warnings: 18+ mdni, dom!clark, spanking, praising, in an a/u where clark has the lex edit, he's just too b i g for me not to write him as a dom

“That’s not fucking good enough!”

The shout ricochets through the otherwise quiet office space, along with the sound of a mug breaking and pencils shattering. Some of the new hires gasp, but people who have been here for a while - people like you - listen with emotionless expectancy.

Because you’ve been hearing it for years.

And you all know exactly where it’s coming from.

Clark Kent’s office.

You peek over your shoulder just in time to see Steve Lombard scurrying out of the CEO’s office, a panicked expression on his face, and his tail well and truly between his legs.

It doesn’t take long for your boss to appear in the doorway, thick arms crossed over his wide chest. Even through the white shirt fabric, you can see his muscles rippling. His face is a picture of thunder, nostrils flared and jaw clenched.

The sight takes your breath away.

From the moment you started working at Kent Industries, you’d been warned about Clark’s temper. How he was able to command a room with a few words - and empty it just as quickly.

You can still remember the first time you witnessed it. You weren’t on the receiving end of it, but it had stayed with you ever since, burrowing under your skin and refusing to leave.

You didn’t think beforehand that you were the type that enjoyed that kind of stuff. The dominating. The controlling. But there was something about the way your boss ruled this place with an iron fist.

It made you hot under your corporate wear. It made you need to cross your legs under the table every time he opened his mouth.

It made you want Clark Kent to fuck you sideways.

“Take that,” Clark used a giant finger to point at Steve’s scrambling form as he addressed the rest of you sitting at your desks, “as a warning. We need to be on our shit this quarter and, if you’re not - well, you know where the fucking door is!”

Nods and murmuring agreements reverberate across the office. People start typing on their keyboards again but you know their shoulders are tighter, their bodies on high alert.

With Clark’s attention clearly occupied, you allow yourself to indulge in your fantasy for a moment longer. You take in the way the veins protrude in his throat, the way the rise and fall of his chest is more laboured, the way his eyes are pointed and scanning the room - and then they flick to yours.

Fuck.

You spin around in your chair, facing your desktop once more. You pin your eyes on your keyboard. Heat rages in your cheeks.

Maybe he didn’t notice? Maybe you’ve blended into the sea of other faces in the office? Maybe he wasn’t even looking at you?

You glance back over your shoulder and your stomach practically falls ten storeys to the bottom of the building.

Clark Kent is still looking at you.

His expression, at first, is unreadable. His devestatingly-gorgeous features still seem fixed by anger - but then they change. His eyebrows soften, raising slightly, and his eyes rake down your form and back up again. He puts his hands in his pockets, his chest still pushed forwards; a strong pose. He licks his lips.

Is this actually happening right now? Is Clark Kent actually looking at you like he wants to eat you?

You swallow, unable to adjust your gaze. You’re wholly focused on each other. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, your breaths suddenly shakier. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach.

Then, after giving you another hungry look over, Clark steps back into his office.

You feel like you can breathe again, taking a deep and pained inhale like someone has been holding you underwater.

Not a few moments pass before you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look up. Clark’s blonde assistant smiles down at you.

“Mr. Kent has asked to see you after hours in his office,” she states, “alone.”

Your eyes widen. As if paying no attention to your now-shocked expression, she gives you a nod and walks back in the direction of her desk.

Clark Kent, mega CEO and business powerhouse, has asked for a private audience with you?

The whole concept reels around your head. What could he want with you alone? Was he going to yell at you? Fire you?

You resist the urge to hide under your desk or run at full speed out of the front door, and look at the clock in the corner of your MacBook. It was only noon.

How the fuck are you supposed to focus for the next five hours?

News flash, you don’t.

You spend the rest of your day as a ball of stress, getting barely anything done, counting down the hours until the office empties out and you can find out what Clark really wants with you.

You try to be as inconspicuous as possible but the jiggling knee under your desk probably gives you away. You even turn down an invite to the bar with Lois, Jimmy and Cat, which results in some confused looks.

“You feeling okay?” Cat asks, her eyebrows furrowed behind her thick-rimmed glasses.

“Yep, completely fine,” you all but squeak. “Just got some extra pieces I need to finish.”

She gives you a ‘Sure, Jan’ look. You nod eagerly.

“Honestly, I’m okay! You go on without me.”

“Alright, Miss. Suspicious,” Cat grabs her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. “Just don’t stay too late; you’ve been looking a little peaky since lunch.”

You call out your goodbyes as your most trusted comrades disappear into the elevator.

You take a deep breath and throw a glance at Clark’s office.

It was time.

The coast is clear, except for a pretty stressed out Steve still bashing away at his keyboard.

You mutter some encouraging words to yourself, crossing the threshold of the office and into Clark’s private area. His assistant has already gone home, and the soft scent of vanilla hits your nostrils.

Butterflies build in your stomach. You knock tentatively on the door.

“Come in,” you hear your boss’ gruff voice call from within.

You turn the handle and let yourself inside, closing it gently behind you.

And then you and Clark Kent are together, alone, with no other eyes in sight.

Your legs feel like goddamn jelly.

He is sitting behind his sizable desk, flicking through a folder of some kind. Up close, you notice just how big he actually is. His arms, his jaw, the way his hands are able to hold most of the folder’s size. He’s any woman’s wet dream.

The glasses he sometimes wears sit discarded upon the desk, his dark blazer thrown over the adjacent couch. This leaves him in his suit pants and white shirt. The first few buttons are undone so you can see the top of his dark chest hair. A large watch curls around his wrist.

Yeah, this is a powerful man.

“You asked to see me, Sir?” You proffer. He hasn’t looked at you yet, so you’re hoping to snag his attention.

It works. Clark raises his eyes and finds you, your body immediately running hot. His blue eyes are captivating, holding something you can’t work out. He closes the folder and puts it down on his desk.

Resting his elbows on the rests of his chair, he clasps his hands together.

Clark regards you. “Yes, I did. Y/N, isn’t it?”

You nod, your tongue refusing to form words.

“Thank you for coming. Sorry to be keeping you after hours. Your friends looked very disappointed that I’d stolen you for the evening.”

Your mouth goes dry. He’s been watching you?

“They’ll get over it.”

Clark smirks. “You’ve been with us for a while, haven’t you, Y/N?”

You nod. “Four years and counting, Sir.”

“That’s good, very good indeed. We like loyal people around here. And do you think you’re good at your job, Y/N?”

Your mind panics, not quite knowing what to say. “I like to think I am.”

“Confidence is very attractive in a person,” Clark states, reaching for the folder on his desk. “But, you see, I was looking through your latest report,” - he has your report in there?! - “and I noticed there were a few mistakes, so to say. Would you mind sitting with me to discuss them?”

Then Clark pats the most unlikely place you would have expected.

He pats his fucking lap.

You look around the room, your breathing suddenly a lot more shallow. “On your lap?”

Clark nods, patting himself again. “Yes. I promise you it’s comfy. And I don’t bite… that hard anyway.”

Your mind spaces out. This has to be a dream, one of your private fantasies that somehow seems too real in your head.

Because you’ve thought about this scenario. Quite a lot.

Sitting on Clark’s lap. How thick, how hard he would feel beneath you. A solid block of pure man.

Whatever this is, dream or not, who are you to turn down such an opportunity?

You cross the room in your ballet flats, taking slow but purposeful steps over to your boss. When you round the corner of his desk, there he is, offering you his very sizable self to perch on.

You refrain from letting out an excited squeal and slide onto him. Your entire body is a bundle of electricity, every inch of your skin on edge. You didn’t wear tights today so you can feel the silkiness of his suit pants on your thighs, the flex of his thigh muscles beneath your ass.

You look at your boss. Your faces are inches from each other. Clark gives you a wide, pearly white smile and reaches into a drawer. He presses something, and the blinds on his office windows begin to close.

“Let’s give ourselves some privacy, shall we?” He all but breathes.

You nod again. God, he makes you so obedient.

Reaching an arm on either side of your waist, he flicks open the folder again, splaying the papers for you to see. One of his hands comes to rest on your bare thigh, the other on your report.

You feel his face right behind your shoulder. “So, the report is good, great even. But did you know you left in a couple of spelling mistakes, a couple of grammar errors?”

Your eyes widen, immediately scanning down the blocks of text. You can’t have done. You went through this piece about a million times.

“I- I did not. I’m sorry. I thought I’d caught all of them.”

Clark chuckles, rubbing your thigh. You like the heat of his palm on your bare skin. You’re grateful that your skirt covers your pussy because you’re sure you’re growing wetter by the second, too.

“Good girl for saying sorry,” Clark purrs in your ear. “This kind of stuff can’t continue, not if we’re going to keep impressing our stakeholders. Do you know the best way I’ve found for ensuring greatness?”

You shake your head. Your entire body is on fire. Clark’s hand is still rubbing your thigh but it’s inching towards the inside, slinking higher and higher.

Now his lips are directly at your ear.

“Have you ever been spanked, Y/N?”

If Clark wasn’t holding you, you fear you might have slipped straight onto the floor. Spanking was one of your biggest fantasies, yet you’d never experienced it in real life before.

“N-no, I haven’t,” you breathe out in response.

“What a shame. I thought a good girl like you would love a good spanking.”

“I would, Sir.”

“Perfect,” Clark grabs your earlobe between his teeth and gives it a nip. You shift on him but he grips your hips in place. “Lay across my lap please, Y/N.”

You oblige, not questioning him in the slightest. This was probably way against what should be happening in the workplace, but you weren’t going to tell anyone.

Your mouth-wateringly hot boss was about to spank you in his office? Yeah, this was going to be your personal secret.

You’re now laid on your front, your body bent over his large thighs. Air tickles at your panties. Anticipation bubbles in your stomach.

Clark runs a sizable hand up the back of your thighs, coming to rest on the curve of one of your ass cheeks.

“Look at you, all ready for me to make you obedient,” he growls. “But, in this kind of thing, we need to have a safe word. If it gets too painful, promise me that you’ll say the word ‘kryptonite’?”

“I promise,” you murmur.

He gives your ass an introductory smack with his palm. It’s not hard enough to move you, but it’s enough to make your clit throb.

“You promise, what?”

You know exactly what he’s getting at. You let out a soft chuckle as the following words leave your lips, “I promise, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Clark starts to caress the round of your ass, and you hear him adjusting the sheets on his desk.

“So, to start with, you misspelt ‘publicly’ in your first paragraph. Not a great start there, Y/N.”

Clark brings his hand down on your butt again. This time, it’s harder, leaving a sting on your skin.

“We need to be perfect from the start. Do you understand, Y/N?”

You nod.

He spanks you again.

“Yes, Sir.”

The papers crackle. “And here, third paragraph, second page. Your first sentence here reads clunky. It really should have had a comma in it.”

Clark’s spank this time is harder yet, leaving a more intense sensation in its wake. You let out a gasp, squirming, curling your fingers into your palms. You know he knows exactly what he’s doing.

He’s turning you insane. And you know he likes it this way.

His hand gives your ass cheek a squeeze this time through your skirt.

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N?” Clark growls, the sound coming from the very depths of his stomach.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Is it making you feel good?”

“Yes, Sir. It feels so, so good.”

“Do you want to go a little harder?”

Your eyes widen, your pussy pulsating and your skin tingling. “Please, Sir. Give it to me harder.”

Clark wastes no time in yanking your skirt up, exposing your bare ass. You know what he’ll be seeing. Soft, puckered skin that boasts the brand of his handprint. The tiny red lace thong covering your quivering pussy.

You hear him exhale, breathy and hot.

“Fuck, Y/N. You have the perfect ass. And it’s all mine, right now. Isn’t that right?”

He brings his hand onto your bare skin. It makes you jolt forward, another gasp leaving your lips. He wasn’t wrong when he said he’d go harder.

“Yes, Sir.”

“How do you feel when I tell you you’ve made a mistake in the work you’re doing for me?”

Another spank, harder than the last. You pull the excess material of his suit pants into your fist.

“Bad, Sir.”

“And how do you feel when I teach you how not to make mistakes?”

He gives you another hard one. You let out a sound that’s a mixture of a moan and a pained groan.

“Good, Sir.”

“How bad do you want my hands on you?”

The hardest spank yet lands on your ass. This time, you actually scream out.

“So badly, Sir.”

“Tell me again.”

“So badly, Sir!”

The next spank Clark gives you makes you see stars, your skin crying out in pleasure and pain. If he keeps going, he’ll bring you over the edge, only needing to brush your pussy to make you all his.

But instead, he cups the area he’s been punishing, giving it a few careful rubs before pulling your skirt back over you. You stay in place for a few long moments, composing yourself, letting your pleasure mix with the pain for just a little longer.

Clark gives you two little pats on the ass. They’re soft but with the damage that’s been done, they still send jolts of discomfort through you.

“You’ve been such a good girl today. You can stand up now.”

You push yourself up with shaky hands, using his thighs to help. You relish in the feeling of them one last time. Now standing, the ass cheek he was spanking pulses and throbs.

Your boss drags his eyes over you. “Now, Y/N, I’m sure you’re going to be much more obedient from now on - but I think we should keep doing this. Just to make sure you’re staying on track. How does that sound?”

You’re barely aware of your surroundings, completely enamoured by him and what’s just happened.

He could have asked you to join him on a Bonnie & Clyde crime spree and you would have agreed.

“I think that would be good, Sir.”

Clark nods, shuffling your report back into the folder. “Great. When’s your next report due?”

“Friday, Sir,” you answer.

“Come Thursday,” Clark slides his glasses back on and fires up his MacBook. “Send me a draft and I’ll give you some feedback, just like today.”

“Sure,” you breathe. “Sure thing.”

“You are dismissed. Have a great night, Miss. Y/L/N.”

And with that, you find yourself back out in the office space you share with your colleagues. Your legs carried you here, heavy and satisfied, your ass cheek feeling swollen. You like it. It’s a little secret only you and Clark know about.

That your boss had just spanked you to within an inch of orgasm.

You can’t wrap your mind around what had just happened. And yet, you are already eager for Thursday to come, your fingers itching to write up your report so you can find yourself under Clark’s touch again.

You might make a few more spelling mistakes, might make your grammar worse than usual.

Anything for Clark to make you his good girl again.

Anything.

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

#superman #superman 2025 #clark kent x reader #clark kent x fem!reader #clark kent x female reader #superman x reader #superman imagine #clark kent imagine #one shot #david corenswet #smut #mdni #superman has got me back in my writing era #superman fanfiction #dom!clark kent #mean!clark kent #i dont own either of the photos

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