sweeterthancandy

[sweeterthancandy]

highkey… smut with calum where youre crying and hes making you feel better?????

pretty when you cry

toxic!cal can’t resist teasing u ://

ThankU so much!!!! i Homestly didn’t know how to incorporate any Smut into this so there’s not any butThere’s still Makinf out so i hope that’s Ok xxxx 🦄🦄🦄🦄 warnings: toxic!cal, bit of praise, making out 💋💋

calum knew exactly how to get under your skin. it was like a sport to him, like he collected every one of your soft spots just to press them until you cracked. the argument started over nothing—something small, stupid, like him showing up late again or you asking one too many questions about where he’d been.

his voice was sharp, biting in that low, deliberate way. “god, you’re so exhausting sometimes.”

you tried to fight back, words trembling out, but it was useless. your throat tightened, eyes burning, and before you knew it you were blinking back tears.

calum saw it happen. he always did. the way your lip trembled, the way your hands shook when you crossed your arms, like you were trying to hold yourself together. and instead of softening, he leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, mouth curling into that smug half-smile.

“there it is,” he said quietly, almost satisfied. “knew i’d win.”

you turned away, swiping at your cheeks, muttering, “you’re an asshole.”

but then—you felt it. the weight of his arms sliding around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. his chin rested heavy on your shoulder, and you could hear the smirk in his voice when he murmured, “yeah, but you’ll still let me hold you.”

your breath hitched, every part of you screaming to push him away, but your body betrayed you. because calum was warm. calum was safe, even when he was the reason you were crying.

his fingers traced circles against your hips, slow, lazy, like he had all the time in the world. “see?” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “you can’t stay mad at me. you need me too much.”

you hated that he was right. hated that you melted into him, that your tears stained his shirt while he pressed soft kisses to your temple like nothing had happened.

calum tightened his grip, smug and certain, whispering, “good girl,” against your hair.

his arms stayed locked around you, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d go quiet, let you cry yourself out against his chest. but calum was never that simple. he shifted closer, nose brushing against your hair, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“baby,” he murmured, voice low, dragging out the word until it melted into you. “don’t cry. you know i can make it better.”

his mouth trailed lower, pressing soft kisses along the side of your neck. you shivered despite yourself, hating how easy it was for him to unravel you after he’d just torn you apart.

“stop,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “don’t—”

“don’t what?” he smirked against your skin, his breath hot, his tone smug. “don’t kiss you? don’t touch you? or don’t remind you how much you need me?”

you swallowed hard, tears slipping fresh down your cheeks as his lips found the spot just under your jaw, the one that made your knees weak every damn time. his hands slid up your sides, slow and steady, holding you like you were fragile porcelain only he had the right to handle.

“look at you,” he whispered, almost reverent, though his words were lined with cockiness. “shaking in my arms. you can’t stay mad, not when i’ve got you like this.”

“calum…” you tried again, but the protest died in your throat, turned into a broken sigh when his teeth grazed your neck.

“shh,” he soothed, though it sounded more like a command. “let me take care of you. let me make it better.”

your hands, traitorous as ever, curled into the fabric of his shirt. you hated how easy it was—how every word, every kiss, every touch slid right past your defenses like he’d built them himself. and maybe he had.

he pulled back just enough to tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. they gleamed in the dim light, dark and certain, his smirk softening into something more dangerous—because it was tender, but only because he knew he’d won.

“that’s it,” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. “just fall into me. you always do.”

and you did. every time.

his lips were already at the corner of your mouth when you caved, tilting your head just enough to meet him. the kiss started soft—almost apologetic—but calum never stayed soft for long. he pressed harder, tasting the salt of your tears, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck like he owned every inch of you.

you let out a broken little sigh against his mouth, and he caught it instantly, pulling back just far enough to smirk down at you.

“hear that?” he murmured, thumb stroking along your jaw. “that’s the sound of you giving in.”

“shut up,” you mumbled, but the words lost all their bite when he kissed you again, deeper this time. his tongue brushed yours, slow and deliberate, and your knees nearly buckled.

he laughed into the kiss, low and dark, pulling you closer until your chest was flush against his. “god, you’re so easy,” he whispered between breaths. “one little fight, a few tears, and you’re still letting me have you.”

you gripped his shirt, nails digging into the fabric, hating how much you wanted him and how much he knew it.

his mouth moved to your jaw, then down your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that had you tilting your head back without thinking. “look at you,” he teased, lips dragging against your skin. “pretending you’re mad when all you really want is me.”

“you’re an ass,” you breathed, but your voice cracked, giving you away completely.

he grinned, kissing you again, harder, swallowing the sound of your protest. when he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen, his eyes dark and shining with triumph.

“say whatever you want, baby,” calum whispered, brushing his nose against yours. “your mouth lies, but your body? your body never does.”

his lips crashed back onto yours before you had the chance to breathe, urgent and unrelenting. the kiss was hungry, like he had something to prove. his mouth moved against yours with practiced ease, tongue slipping past your lips when you parted for him, and he groaned low in his throat like he’d been waiting for this all night.

you whimpered into the kiss, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, dragging him closer. he smirked against your mouth, pulling back just an inch to look at you—your swollen lips, your glassy eyes.

“there she is,” he whispered, cocky and soft at the same time. “my good girl, finally giving in.”

you hated how right he was, hated how your chest heaved as you leaned up to chase his mouth again. he let you, laughing under his breath before kissing you deeper, tongue sliding slow and deliberate against yours.

his hands roamed—one splayed over your back, pressing you into him, the other cupping your jaw, tilting your head just how he wanted. every move was controlling, claiming, like he wanted to remind you he had you exactly where he wanted.

your breaths came out ragged between kisses, lips parting and meeting again, over and over, until you were dizzy. calum swallowed every sound you made, pulling back only to murmur against your lips, “knew you’d cave. you always do.”

when you gasped for air, he dipped back down to kiss along your jaw, his tongue dragging teasingly against your skin. you shuddered, nails scraping lightly at his shoulders, and he chuckled, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your neck before finding your lips again.

“mmm,” he hummed into your mouth, tasting you like it was his favorite sin. “you’re even sweeter when you’re mad at me.”

you kissed him back harder this time, frustration bleeding into the desperation, your tongue meeting his in a messy clash that left you both breathless.

calum pulled back, lips red and glistening, that damn smug smile plastered across his face. he leaned his forehead against yours, whispering through a smirk, “told you. you can’t resist me.”

[sweeterthancandy]

god yes

ignorance

just Toxic bf cal thoughts 🦄🎶

calum hood was a beautiful kind of wreck, the kind of boy your mother would call trouble but your heart called home. he tasted like black coffee and half-forgotten apologies, always showing up at your window at 2am with bloodshot eyes and a smirk that could split you open.

he was chaos bottled in denim jackets and torn band tees, smelling like cigarettes, sweat, and something sweeter you couldn’t name. you loved him the way people loved car crashes; staring even though it hurt, addicted to the impact.

he’d hold you like he couldn’t breathe without you, fingers digging into your skin as if keeping you was the only way to stay alive. but then he’d vanish—radio silence for days, leaving you curled up in sheets that still smelled like him, scrolling through blurry instagram posts of him at parties you weren’t invited to.

“you drive me insane,” you’d hiss, mascara smudged, voice breaking against his chest.

and he’d laugh, low and dangerous, pressing his lips to your jaw. “yeah, baby, but you like it.”

he was the fight and the make-up, the bruise and the kiss after. he was the messy, aching poetry in the margins of your notebook, the reason your hands shook when you lit your cigarette.

being with calum was always teetering on the edge of a rooftop—thrilling, beautiful, but one step away from collapse. and god, you never felt more alive.

[sweeterthancandy]

[sweeterthancandy]

(FRANK)enstein

[sweeterthancandy]

haii luv!! i was wondering if you could write me tyler smut?? thank you sm <33 💗

you have to be more specific babes im sorrryyy j do have a few tyler recs in my ask box that will be coming out soon tho!!! so stay tuned for that 💕

[sweeterthancandy]

IMMHONNNA LOSE MY MIND RAHHHH

[sweeterthancandy]

based off this post by @dollwhisper i took this vision and RAN WITH IT. so heres my moodboard for 70s pornstar sammy

yeah dont be shocked if yall see me write this…

[sweeterthancandy]

mmm 70s pornstar sam…

i feel like i’m gonna be held at gun point and shot on sight if i say i dig s7 sam’s sideburns to the wrong audience. he got that 70s pornstar private detective etc look and i fw that heavy

[sweeterthancandy]

giving subby luke a blowjob. that’s all that has been on my mind lately

you sat between lukes legs, hes leaned back on the couch as you shush him “cmon baby its ok just look at me…” hes panting already and you just took him out of his boxers.

“god ‘cant please just go slow..” a sweet whine leaves his mouth when you lips leave the first kiss on his tip, feeling the dribbles of precum leak out. head falling back with need as one hand flies to tuck your hair behind your ear while the other goes to his face to cover his mouth. “dont” is all you had to say before he let himself go.

he was loud as ever, moaning out your name and whining when he needed more but quickly he came to say “fuck ok you have to stop-“

“what, why?” you said as he yanked your head up off him to look at him, you frowned as you spoke, he cant even look at you. here you are frowing at the thought of him making you stop while your lips are covered in spit from how messy you were. “im gonna cum too fast im sorry baby youre just too good” he pants out, and in embarrassment he looks away swiftly at anything else, suddenly the ceiling is the most interesting thing.

“whats wrong with that?” you just tilted your head like a lost puppy with the sweetest smile as he tried so hard to just ignore everything that just happened. your hand laces with his, causing him to snap out of it as you share a sweet moment of eye contact as if his dick isnt sitting right infront of your face.

“just doing my job luke cmon, i need it…”

[sweeterthancandy]

hiii girlie!! i looove how you write nerd!sam and i need MORE of him

like, i was thinking abt popular!reader x him and how he’d be sooo in love with her and be like the ultimate simp for her, helping her with the tests, homeworks and all that, and she’s like omgg he’s so kind and smart i want to ruin him ;!,!.!:’sdm

all yours

warnings: stanford!sam x cheerleader!reader, highkey sub!sam but more of like a desperate “yes maam” type of sam, palming, semi public? (under the bleachers), teensy size kink (its me what do you expect), safe sex!! not proofread booo whatever. reader takes care of him, and shes in control.

you had sam wrapped around your pretty little finger, and you didnt even know it.

though youd never paid too much attention to him, hes always there. two rows infront of you during your lectures, sitting by the fountain while you hungout with your girls, and on the sidelines as you cheered. and during all of these moments he managed to have a book shoved in his face at all times, and something about that drew you in.

you knew he had a little crush on you… thats what made it so easy for you to trick him into helping you study, “hey!! you ready?” you panted, jogging up to him from across the field and onto the bleachers as practice concluded.

“y-yup, how was practice?” he barely made eye contact with you, and when he did they went down to your cleavage pretty quick so with that hes trying to stay clear of being hit by just looking around. after a few quick sentences of small talk you got down to it, the field had cleared out and time had passed.

“alright so when this is above this you make it- woah” he gasped as your fingers played up his denim clad thigh innocently. “youre a good teacher, sammy” you looked up at him through heavy lashes as the sunset hit him in the most beautiful way.

“if only i could pay attention…” the whisper hit his ears with grace as you trailed your lips against his jaw.

“what are you talking about- we should really focus” his tone being shaky and nervous, you take a moment to grab the book and slam it shut. “no baby im boredddd, can i take care of you?” you brought the pencil the rest behind his ear and in one swift motion you pull his jaw to look at you. “is this real?” sam asked with a flustered look in his eyes.

“its real, super real-“ kisses being trailed against his neck then finally one to his lips, reassuring him of the reality hes experiencing. “will you come with me?” you say sweetly grabbing his hand to pull him up.

“god ill do anything you want.” hes breathless already.

thats how you ended up straddling him underneath the bleachers as he laid against the fence, telling him how sweet he is to you and how insanely smart he is as he lets you attack him with kisses. ‘this is the way to go out’ he thinks to himself blissfully looking up at you with stars in his eyes.

“so so sweet, please let me help..” you palm him through his jeans while you request. he finds himself nodding disgustingly fast for his comfort but he doesnt care he needs this more than anything.

he pulls out a condom from his pocket, XL might i add, and this shocks you. “always prepared huh whinchester?” you laugh as you rip the package open, and with this you swiftly undid his belt and zipper, pulling him out of his boxers with ease. “what? oh. no no its not like that its just for-“ you cut his ramble off quickly with a gasp.

“oh my god-“ you say in pure awh snapping him out of his trance. “what? what oh god whats wrong im sorr-“

“shh i was just gonna say youre so big baby calm down i should be the one worried!!” you giggle as you roll the condom onto his thick cock and start to stroke him a few times to get him ready, as if he wasnt hard as a rock to begin with. while you laughed he just laid his head back, this must be a dream, a pretty girl like you telling a nerdy loser like him that hes got a big dick. all he can do is smile.

“mhm, please-“ he begs quietly for more, and you have to oblige i mean after everything hes done for you why not!! you swiftly pull your uniform to the side teasing him between your slit, “it might take a little” you whimper out at the stimulation to your clit.

“jesus actual christ-take your time sweetheart” flustered at the implication of your comment, his hands finally fell onto your hips for the first time and so did the nickname. you really like him…

finally you lower yourself onto him inch by inch, feeling everything so well, the two of you moaned so quietly trying not to alert anyone who might be around of your presence. “wanted you so bad sammy, so bad, ‘only reason i got you to tutor me” you moan out as you leave a trail of sloppy kisses on his face. your pink glittery lipgloss left stains on his cheeks as his hair splayed a mess on his forehead being held by sweat. he looked so perfect like this, so ruined by you.

“shit you couldve jus�� asked- dont have any other girls you know thahhhfuck-“ you bottomed out, hes never been so fucked out before. you start to bounce up and down on him fitting him easily now, “can i please…” his whine too pathetic to ignore as he rested his head against your tits, begging to pull up your shirt. “awh baby” you leave a kiss to his head as your hips come to a slowed pace “go ahead” you finish your sentence before pulling your tight top to rest above your chest as his eyes light up, and his lips fixate on kissing and sucking them.

the two of you making a mix of moans and whines before it all becomes too much, “m’cumming im so sorry so sorry fuck” hes blabbing on the plush your breast, leaving trails of slobber leaking down your chest. his voice all squeaky and raspy just how you like. after reassuring him that you were close and wanted him to finish, he obviously did and with a loud moan of your name mixed a few curse words no doubt.

hes not a very experienced guy, but you liked that and hes allllll yours now.

[sweeterthancandy]

guys i JUST realized that my anonymous reqs werent on???? yall PLEASEEEEE DONT LET THAT HOLD UOU BACK THEYRE ON NOW!!!

[sweeterthancandy]

smallville clark my baby hes so awkward i need him unbelievably bad

[sweeterthancandy]

Calum headcanons/p!links👀

so sorry it took so long!! @ellamarieee also requested this so here you guys go!!!

calum hood nsfw headcanons + p!links

- everyday by ariana grande was made for calum cause hed genuinely give you the best dick of your life everyday like its nothing. hed have no problem doing it everyday as long as you wanted it hes in, just seeing your face when he bottoms out is enough to make it perfect. it would never get old between you two, hed be down to try anything he just wants you real bad.

- def has a size kink… he loves seeing how big his hand is on your face when he covers your mouth to muffle your moans, and seeing how he towers over you while he fingers you in the shower, or how your pussy look when he pushes himself into you stretching around him, your face when hes waiting for the ok to move once youve adjusted to his size.

- hes stupid dude, youll be just talking to him regularly and he starts feeling you up and kissing up your neck, “mhm baby sure…” hed mumble against your neck as he runs his fingers underneath the band of your sleep shorts.

“cal… stopppp” you giggle, being yanked closer to him “mmm-jus’ too pretty” this will never get old to him, hed feel you up nonSTOP.

- tell him what to do and he says SIR YES SIR- no but genuinely hed let you do anythinggggg to him. “please cal i need it…” youd says sweetly as you palm him through his jeans, his reaction would make your heart drop. “oh god yes” hed say almost comedically sitting back on the couch letting you crawl onto him.

“oh my- yes so good so good, dont stop shit youre so pretty“ hed ramble on as you grind against his hips, feeling so full of him. “shut up- just fuck me” your moan making a shiver go down his spine realizing something new about himself. “i will baby i will-“ urgency is the only thing that drips in his tone, he grabs your hips and bounces you on him.

he is this emoji = 🫡

warning: nsfw content ahead!!

as close as possible

so soft

always so deep

munchhhh

big dumb boy

[sweeterthancandy]

warnings: BIG size kink, clueless nerdy clark, riding, stupid jokes…

riding clark senseless after hes been gone a few days, “oh gosh- look at you…” hed say mesmerize watching you bounce on the tip of his cock. his calloused hands sat on your bare hips as he laid there whimpering at the feeling, needing more.

“agh fuck too big too big-“ you squeal out into a moan as he slams your hips down in one quick thrust, filling you to the hilt. your face quickly turned from pain to pleasure but that didnt stop him from apologizing. “m’sorry so sorrr- baby im sorry” hes grasping for anything to get you off, but hes making the connection that it seems you dont want to.

“so big-mmso deep..yes yes-” your bounces become more primal, “you like it?” hed ask truly confused as to how the feeling of being split open could possibly be pleasurable for you.

“fuck-yes god i love your big cock”

the words fell slimy off your tongue and he could tell you were reaching your goal soon. his eyes widened at your crass confession. “really?” he smiled a soft chuckle coming from his lips. hes proud of himself.

it takes a while for him to cum, ya know the whole kryptonian stamina thing, so youre gonna have to drain him for all hes got!!! it might take 6 rounds but im sure you can do it

you clench around him, making him let out a grunt of pure need, “so pretty like this…” the kansas drawl sneaking through as he grazes your bare tits so softly, pushing you over the edge. your movements become unreasonable now, making your tits spill out of his hands sending a shockwave through him. “thank you-thank you” you ramble on, reaching for his biceps to sink your nails into as he lays there with hearts in his eyes guiding you through your orgasm.

“no, thank YOU!!” a stupid grin spreading across his cheeks as you wind down from your high, the joke rapidly flying ofer your head, he doesnt even need to cum the sight of you is enough for him!!

i really wanna write sub!clark lmk if yall would be into that…

[sweeterthancandy]

my people

“clark baby?” he hears you call out for him from across the city. he told you not too long ago that if you needed anything, anything, that he would be there in a heartbeat, just call.

so you did, a lot, like a lot a lot. he flies to you apartment, taking less than three seconds to get to you. he used to you needing him, after all you’ve got him wrapped around your perfectly manicured fingers.

he closes your window as he slips inside, hoping no one notices that Clark Kent, the geek from Daily Planet, is hovering outside some girls window. “Claaaaark” your voice whines out again.

you know he’s here, you heard the click on your window. he sees you walk out your bedroom, shutting your curtains before anyone can get a view of you slipping your shirt of your braless tits.

“do i look slutty or cunt?” huh???

“baby, don’t ever call yourself that, you’re the most beautiful-“ you cut him off with an eye roll, forgetting how little he’s on social media. “yea yea whatever baby, i know. i meant like, do i look trashy in a bad way or in a like bimbo cunty way” ohhhhhh.

it finally clicks to him in his head, remembering how you taught him new ‘terminology’ with your head resting on his chest.

he remembered the way your hand teased his bulge, the other one holding your phone and showing him videos. his face was flushed, barely even keeping his breaths even.

he can also remember thinking to himself “maybe if i breathe less, i wont cum, and then i won’t embarrass myself”

but the night ended with you riding him as his hands fumbled around your body, never knowing where he wanted to stop.

“you look gorgeous as always, you know that. but no, you don’t look trashy in a bad way” he finishes the sentence by giving you a kiss on your head, pulling your shorts down as you reach around to hug his waist. you unwrap yourself from his grip, walking away as you feel his hand lightly slap your ass, giggling as you look at him over your shoulder with that same teasing smile that gets him hard everytime.

you stop outside your bedroom, leaning on your hip against the wooden frame. “y’know… i’m supposed to be hanging out with lois today, picked out this outfit for it, just put it on. wanna take it off of me?” ‘oh hell yea’ clark thinks to himself

he nods, not trusting his voice, knowing it would waver and crack. he’s listening to the way your heart speeds up while you seem confident as ever.

your hands slide down to your shorts, pulling them down as you bend over, undressing to let him see the lacy pink thong that does nothing for your modesty. “cmon clarky, missed my morning workout, need a substitute.”

he huffs out a breath, trying to be calm and not blow a load right there. “God i love this damn planet.”

[sweeterthancandy]

ohhhhh i need him so bad

Honey.

helping clark housesit for his parents leads to: 1. lots of teasing, and 2. getting very familiar with his childhood bedroom (aka fucking in clark's childhood bed)

a/n: watched superman (2025) like 10 hours ago and my childhood crush is soooo back i need him bad, went into a different plane of existence and wrote this in a two-hour-old gdoc, first dc fic!!

cw: clark kent x fem!reader, established relationship, smut mdni, banter, fingering, praise, lowkey size kink he's HUGE, slightttt dumbification but not really by clark, unprotected piv, he almost breaks the headboard, defiling clark's childhood bedroom, you want each other badddd

wc: 2.8k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

“So, this is where Clark Kent grew up, huh? I can see it now, you’re running in that field, yelling at your dad on the porch, sneaking a nudie mag in your backpack through that door—”

A large palm flattens over your mouth, muffling your next words. Slumping your shoulders dramatically, you look up with mirth in your eyes. 

Clark is standing in front of you, his expression defeated. It’s clear he’s half-regretting inviting you to house-sit for his parents with him for the week, but the flush on his cheeks indicates that your teasing isn’t all bad. 

“I’ll have you know I never had any magazines that weren’t PG-13.”

He speaks with a mock-injured tone, hand slipping down to rest on your back as he guides you through the screen door into the old-fashioned living room. 

“What kind of degenerate do you think I am? Ma raised me right.”

You should be teasing him further. If you had your wits about you, you would. It’s unfortunate that the feeling of Clark’s hand on your lower back makes you go a little loopy. You’re lucky he hasn’t caught on to what his touch does to you, or you’d be screwed. 

Flushing slightly, you dance out of his grip, running a finger over the shelves. 

“So, are you gonna, um, give me a tour? Lots of anecdotes, I want the true Clark Kent experience.”

His low chuckle is indulgent, a finger hooking into your belt loop as a means of tugging you towards the door. 

“If you want it, you’ll get it. Just don’t be mad at the tour guide when this takes a while.”

You have to shake the daze from your eyes before you can hear the story he’s telling about accidentally cracking the kitchen countertop.

The Kent house is exactly how you’d expect it. It’s quaint, the decor reflecting the cozy tastes of his parents. Each room has a reminder of Clark though, whether intentional or not. 

The doorway to the bathroom has markings of his growing height in childhood, including the five-month period where he went from 5'8" to 6’3”. The office has a dent in the wall, where Clark sheepishly tells you he kicked a soccer ball by accident when he was ten. It leaves you feeling as if you knew him when he was young, by proxy of the many scrapes he got himself into. 

Nothing does it like his bedroom, though. The final stop on his tour, Clark forgoes any preamble, simply opening the door and letting you wander in. 

It’s a stark contrast to the rest of the house, the brown paneled walls plastered with various posters and pictures. You can’t help but grin, seeing the trophy case with all his football awards near the window. 

“Wow, Kent. Didn’t realise you were Boy Wonder, too,”

You cross the room, immediately fiddling with the academic awards that are hanging on the far wall. 

“I mean, is it even fair at this point?”

You can hear him huff out a deep breath, picturing how he’s surely lifting one large hand to rub the back of his neck, his flannel straining against the bulge of his bicep and—

“It really wasn’t that big a deal, Smallville’s got a pretty good high school for the area.”

His voice cuts through the static in your brain, the barely-there heat of his chest radiating towards your back snapping you into reality at once. Humble bastard.

Turning to face him, you step as close as you can, hands finding their rightful place on his shoulders. 

“I think you’re selling yourself short. Besides, it’s better for me if you’re exceptional. I get to pat myself on the back for locking you down.”

You go in for a quick peck, pressing your lips to his slightly-chapped ones for a brief moment. Parting from him, the two of you seem transfixed by each other’s eyes, Clark leaning back in for another when a distinctive poster catches your eye, making you turn your head.

Clark’s lips land on your cheek as you rile yourself up for more teasing. 

“Clark! The Mighty Crabjoys? Are you kidding?”

He lets out a groan, hands settling at your waist as he attempts to turn you back toward him. 

“Yes I did listen to them, yes I was an insufferable poser as a kid, yes you would have mocked me relentlessly, now please?”

His lips seek yours, molding against you for another moment before you pull back again. 

“No, wait, don’t distract me. That’s there unironically? Like, you listened to them, and listened to them so much that you just had to—”

You’re cut off again, tasting the cornbread you’d had earlier on his tongue as he laves it over your bottom lip. Suddenly you’re not all that bothered with the poster anymore. 

It’s his turn to talk now, it seems.

“Can we please stop talking about the poster?”

His voice has deepened a few octaves, sounding eerily similar to his Superman voice. It’s doing bad things for your panties, feeling your thighs rub together involuntarily. You’re rendered mute, nodding wordlessly up at him. 

A self-satisfied smile settles on his face, using his grip on you to walk you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

“Thank you, honey.”

He’s pushing you down softly, lowering you until you settle against the plaid sheets. You’re given absolutely no time to register anything else about the bed, not when he’s settling over you, all broad chest and thick thighs and beautiful face. 

“Clark…”

“Yeah? What is it?”

It seems like he’s relishing the opportunity to get you back for all your teasing, leaning on an elbow resting near your head as his other hand slips down to grip your hip. It’s unfair how he gets to you. 

“I want… You know what I want.”

You can barely stand to look at him, his eyes are so big and kind. You could get lost in him, drawn in by his gravitational pull. 

“Yeah, I do know, don't I? You want your clothes off, sweetheart?”

Your head begins to nod before you even register it, making Clark laugh as he sits up to tug off your clothes. 

Once you’re sufficiently undressed, you’re feeling a little unfair. He’s still wearing so much. Clumsy hands fly to the hem of his shirt, pushing it up gently. 

“You too, Clark. Not going to let me be the only one in their birthday suit, right?”

He blushes, but follows the movements of your hands, shucking off his shirt and jeans, although the black boxers he’s got on remain there, much to your dismay. The moment he’s bare enough, he’s climbing right back over you, lips pressing to yours with insistence. 

Clark generally lets you take the lead with kissing, letting you explore his mouth with as much zeal and vigour you can muster. He’s content to moan into your mouth, hands running wild over all the newly-exposed skin at his disposal. 

Rough fingertips travel up to your hair, smoothing it back as your tongue brushes against his. A soft squeeze to your breast when you gasp for air before diving right back in. Slowly, slowly, he begins to make his way down your body.

You falter a little as he lingers over your stomach, rubbing a thumb over your lower belly, feeling yourself ache for him. Your own hands spring into action, caressing over the planes of his abdomen as you move lower and lower. 

However, a hand encircles your wrist before you can reach his boxers, Clark’s abashed face looking at you.

“Not yet, baby. Can’t—oh, gosh,”

He throws his head back in pleasure when you forge forward, boldly gripping him through the thin fabric. 

“Clark, please. You said you’d give me what I wanted.”

He seems to falter, but his touch doesn’t move, redirecting your hand to rest on his shoulder. 

“You know we can’t… yet. I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

Damn it. Damn his big fucking eyes and his honeyed voice. You can’t complain, no matter how much you’d want to. Not when he’s looking at you like that. 

With a sigh, you slump a little, voice slightly petulant. 

“Fine.”

He sees right through it, of course he does. 

“Oh, I know. It’s so hard, isn’t it, letting me touch you?”

You’d have a cutting reply on the tip of your tongue if his hands weren’t roaming again, his left cupping the back of your head as the right makes its way down to where you’re dripping. 

Your legs spread automatically, letting his fingers brush against your soaked folds. You have to moan, the feeling of his larger fingers always overwhelming at first. 

He swipes through your folds, once, twice, until his index finger is covered in slick. You’d be embarrassed, but it’s hard to feel anything but pleasure when Clark is touching you. Slowly, he brings his index up to your hooded clit, pressing down on it with practised precision. 

It’s like he’s feeling it too, the way he starts to pant at the sight of you getting enveloped in bliss. This is a part of your routine because you need to be worked open, yes, but it’s also selfishly for Clark’s own satisfaction, you both know it. 

The pleasure arcing up your spine has you arching your back, right leg jerking involuntarily. It only seems to spur him on, index leaving your clit. 

Acknowledging your whine with a kiss to the temple, Clark moves his hand slightly, positioning his finger a little lower. 

“Here we go, honey.”

He pushes further, thick finger brushing your gummy walls deliciously. Every time Clark fingers you, you worry that you’ll never be able to go back to your own fingers again. His are like the rest of him, broad, work-worn and skilled. The way he slowly increases the pace of his movements have you squirming under him, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. 

“Doing so good for me, baby. Take it like a champ, every time.”

His hushed praises are sent straight to your core, hot breath fanning over your cheek as he adds another impossibly large finger to the mix. 

The stretch burns, in the way that has you gushing around his digits. You’re openmouthed, unable to stop the endless torrent of moans and whimpers that leave you. 

“Clark—!”

He smiles a little, watching how your hips are starting to grind down on his palm. 

“Yeah, honey? Feeling good?”

You nod frantically, staring wide-eyed up at him.

One more finger joins the two already plunging in and out of you, and the staggering onslaught of sensations pushes you over the edge. 

A final brush of his palm against your clit and you fall apart, choked moans spilling into the air as your hips stutter.

“Oh my god, ohmygod, Clark!”

He knows to work you through it, slowing his pace until the wave has crested, and you’re looking up at him with big, wet eyes. 

Pulling his hand away from you, he dips down, capturing your lips with his. 

“How’re you feeling, honey? Want to stop?”

You’d rather die. You tell him so, reveling in the shock on his face. He seems to forget how badly you want him until it's shoved in his face, so you do just that.

Snaking a hand between your bodies, you brush the waistband of his boxers again. 

“Please, Clark? You know I can take it. Just wanna feel you.”

He’s a sucker for you, you both know it.

That’s what has him shoving down his boxers with graceless hands, what has him blushing when you compliment his cock for the umpteenth time. 

He’s hovering back over you, the mattress dipping by your head and hip, where he’s braced himself with a hand and knee. His other hand has found purchase on your thigh, kneading at the plush flesh idly. 

You wonder absentmindedly if there will be any marks left later. He’d be mortified. You’d love it.

“Sweetheart, you ready? Gotta take this slow,”

He’s let go of your thigh, gripping his cock at the base so he can swipe through your folds. You both let out guttural moans, laughing at each other when the pleasure subsides. 

“Yeah, Clark. I want it.”

He’s embarrassed by your confession, like he always is, but that doesn’t stop him from pressing his hips forward a fraction. The blunt tip of his cock pushes past your entrance, the stretch causing another moan from the both of you. 

You’ll never get used to it, the all-encompassing pleasure that comes with the first few inches of him. 

He’s slow, taking his time as he groans word salad into your ear. 

“Feels so—so good, baby. Always so good for me, aren’t you? Does it— oh, god— you feeling okay?”

His voice is hoarse, as if he’s been yelling for days. You can’t help but feel a little satisfaction at how thoroughly you seem to wreck the Man of Steel. 

“Yeah, Clark… Keep going.”

He nods, pushing even further. The tip of him reaches somewhere deep in you, somewhere only he’s ever been. The heady haze in your mind can’t dissipate, not when he’s making you feel like this. 

It feels like an eternity, but finally, his hips meet yours. You’re feeling obscenely full, like you could never live without him in you like this. It has you whining sharply when he pulls himself out slightly. 

However, the feeling of him pushing back in sends any thought of complaining flying out of your head. He’s swift in finding that perfect pace — somewhere between stuffing you as full as you can be and providing the friction he craves. 

Throwing your head back, you see his right hand hover in the air, as if he’s unsure what to do with it. It seems as though he’s decided when it grips the headboard behind your head, but a splintering sound has you pushing past the daze to warn him.

“Can’t— Don’t break the headboard—” You’re cut off by a moan, unable to stop yourself. He seems suitably chastised though, his hand balling into a fist and pressing into the mattress instead. You feel a distant hope that he won’t punch through that, somehow. It’d be a hell of a story to tell his parents why you had to replace it.

His left arm has slid under your shoulders in the meantime, holding you as close to his chest as possible. You’re sure he gets some pleasure out of it, but you know he does this for you. 

He knows you like to be overwhelmed by him, surrounded by his touch and smell and words until every thought’s been chased from your mind but him. He won’t let you run away from the excruciating pleasure, and you’re grateful. It’s even more wonderful here, in this single bed that forces you even closer to him than normal.

The brutal pace he’s set has you floating up to the sky in no time, head in the clouds as you let him hold you close. 

It could be a lot of things, but you’re getting close after only a few short minutes. It could be the deep groans that he’s letting loose in the air between your mouths. It could be the tight grip he’s got you in. It’s probably the incessant grinding of his pelvis against your clit when he drives home. 

Whatever it is, your arms around his neck tighten as you attempt to tell him. 

“Clark— Clark, m’gonna…”

He nods, smiling breathlessly down at you, knowing you want reassurance. 

“Me too, baby. Go ahead, you can come.”

Something about his gasped-out words has you spiralling, your climax hitting you at once. Walls spasming around him, his hips falter in their speed, slowing to a more languid, leisurely pace as he works you through it. 

“Good— good girl, honey. Feel so good.”

He lets you pull him in for a filthy, openmouthed kiss, pressing his pelvis against yours. 

One final grinding motion, and he’s gasping into your mouth. The blooming heat inside you has you shuddering with an aftershock of pleasure, moaning one final time. 

He remains pressed against you for some time, his arm holding you slightly off the bed as your chests heave. Only once he catches his breath (annoyingly quickly) does he settle you back against the sheets.

The next few moments are a blur, Clark kissing you one moment, softly wiping at your pussy with a cloth the next, and finally bringing a glass of water to your lips. 

“Feeling okay? Tired?”

“Yeah, a little, but a quick nap, and I’ll be ready.”

He looks at you quizzically, tilting his head in a way that reminds you of Krypto.

“What, you don’t have more in you? C’mon, Superman, we’ve got to wear you out at some point.”

He’s blushing again.

[sweeterthancandy]

yall i watched superman last night WOWWWW i need this big nerdy boy in my bed NOW (i need to make him nervous badly.)

send me clark kent / superman reqs immediately.