#soft!dark clark kent x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ktficworld · 8 months

Text

Lies and Lavish

Chapter 1: introduction

Pairing: soft dark! Andy Barber x reader, soft dark! Steve Rogers x reader, soft dark! Clark Kent x reader, soft dark! Bucky x reader, soft dark! Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: You finally pull your head out of your studies and go to your long time friend's wedding to relax. And it's going to be alright, even if the infamous five brothers tend to linger around you a little too long, even when you share a past with one of them, even if their darkness is slowly approaching you. It's going to be okay, right?

Warnings: angst, mutual pining, manhandling, violence (by reader)

A/n: phew, it's finally here. Let me know what you think and please reblog it. It give ke motivation.

The wind whistled in the air mingling with the horns and roars of the cars, more expensive than your soul.

You sighed at the gigantic iron gate before you as the straps of your backpack dug into your shoulder. You were really second guessing your visit but the thought of your friend made you shake your head. After all, it was your childhood best friend wedding, even if it was to Ransom Drysdale. How did she managed to win that throttle? You would never know. But then again, not everybody's life revolved around school and sleep.

You glanced at the two additional bags you brought. Your backpack had essentials and your books. Even though, you came to relax, you'd still squeeze in some study. Business was no easy major and your finals were four months away.

You gripped your trolley bags and meekly shuffled towards the gate and entered the Drysdale estate through a smaller door-like gate. You sighed and looked around for any worker or someone who could help you with this maze.

Honk.

You jumped, clutching your racing heart as the loud noise pulled you out of your reverie. You began turning your head to glare at the motherfucker who almost gave you a heart attack, when an oh-so familiar voice called out your name.

"Luna! Come here."

You caught a glimpse of a Rolls Royce with a familiar sticker before you turned to beam at your friend, Alaïa. She waved at you with a megawatt smile and you thanked your lucky stars for working today as you dragged the bags and yourself towards her.

"Hi Alaïa, oh god! I can't believe you are getting married. Congratulations!" You said while intertwining your hands with hers, bouncing giddily.

"Thanks sis and gimme this," She pulled the bag off from your shoulders and deposited it on the nearby trolley bag. She glanced around and beckoned someone to where you were standing. "Leo, can you put these bags in the guest room I set up. Thank you." She politely ordered and off went your bags.

"Wow, Alaïa. You're living like a queen, huh?" You said, distracted by the large man taking away your luggage.

"Well, perks of marrying a rich man."

At that your smile faltered. You gradually dragged your gaze back to her. "Listen, Alaïa, you know I don't beat around the bush so I'm just gonna ask you. Are you okay with Ransom bringing more wives in the future?"

That was the new normal now. Apparently, 50 percent divorce rate was too alarming for the governments around the world. Add the loneliness statistics and now getting a divorce was nearly impossible. However, those who had the money to keep multiple partners, were allowed. Yes, polygamy was now legal. But the financially dependent partner had no say in this arrangement and that was why you feared for Alaïa.

Alaïa grimaced. "I know you're blunt. But you don't have to put it like that and don't worry. Ransom has promised to stay with me and only me."

They meant nothing. You were promised too. "But Alaïa, people change. What if he just said that to trap you? What will you do when he brings home some bimbo twenty years younger than him?"

People do change sometimes, even overnight. Or maybe they just hide their true face so perfectly that you couldn't see past those roses and sweet nothings.

Alaïa's lips tugged upwards into a half, bitter smile. "You think I'm a gold digger, don't ya?"

You gasped at the accusation. "God, no. And even if you were a gold digger, there's nothing wrong with it in this economy. The golden days are long gone. I'm just concerned about you, Alaïa."

"Hmmm, I know you only want the best for me. And I was just teasing you. I have signed the open marriage arrangement."

You heaved a sigh of relief but couldn't help thinking that somebody had definitely shamed her with that tag. "You scared me. It's great Ransom offered you that. Maybe, he is actually really committed to you." There were men and women who would allow the courtesy of an open marriage to their financially dependent partner, in case they marry again. So, if Ransom was really risking his fragile male ego, then he really meant it in your opinion.

"Yeah, maybe we can find you a committed one or two here. Look, their eyes are already wandering over you." She said with way too much enthusiasm and pointed behind you where few men were eyeing you with interest.

You whipped your head back to your friend, now accompanied with a sharp glare. "Absolutely not! I don't plan on marrying. Ever. And especially not to those dogs lolling their tongue."

Alaïa laughed at your little outburst and hooked her arm with yours. "I'm joking. Now, come on. Let's get you to Harlan." And began leading you inside the mansion.

But you planted your feet on the ground, causing her to stagger back to you. "Why would I meet Harlan?" You asked, bewildered.

She looked at you sheepishly. "I may have bragged about your writing and business skills way too much. Because as soon as I said you were coming today, he instructed me to bring you straight to his office."

What did your friend tell him that Harlan Thrombey wanted to meet you? And not just meet you but meet you straight away? It annoyed you nonetheless. "Alaïa, but-"

"No if and buts. You are going to the office right now." She declared and dragged your whining body with her.

"Harlan, look who's here." Alaïa announced as she pushed open the large doors.

You stood beside her and smiled at Harlan when his eyes lit up. "Oh, Luna. Welcome dear. I have heard a lot about you." He said with a good-natured smile.

"I don't know what she has told you but I'm definitely not what you think." You said, stepping towards him.

Harlan huffed out a chuckle. "I call it nonsense. I have seen you work, I have seen your articles. You are an asset to have-"

"How are you doing, Harlan?" A dark baritone voice called from behind as the doors flung open, sending shivers down your spine.

You gazed back and your breath hitched in your throat. In walked The Five Brothers, the richest and most dangerous people in the world. If one percent of the world's population ruled the 99 percent, then they ruled the hundred percent of it. They had unimaginable power, both legally and illegally.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company." The eldest, Andy Barber said. You didn't catch the intrigue in his voice.

Because among them was him. He was the last one to come in, your eyes locked for a second and an emotion you couldn't decipher passed through his eyes before he completely disregarded you and returned to his nonchalant attitude.

And why would he care? You meant nothing to him. Or he wouldn't have left the way he did. It was just a second of eye contact but for you it felt like eternity as the bittersweet memories flashed before your eyes. They were tainted by the black cloud of reality but for you, they meant everything. Because even if you were a mere lay for him. You liked that bastard. Loved even, if you allowed yourself that pain.

"Luna, I didn't know he'd come. I'm sorry." Alaïa said but you were already too out of your mind to care about her words.

You were drowning. Drowning in pain, in the memories, in the abandonment after swearing to never love, seeing your parents example. Only to open your heart to that asshole and have it smashed into a billion pieces.

Your lungs were bursting and tears were prickling your eyes. You didn't want to cry over that fucker, never, not again. But your breath was already coming out in short puffs and it was getting difficult to remain discreet. You were going to cry, you couldn't help it.

"Harlan, my head is hurting like crazy. I think coming here in this scorching heat caused it. Can we talk at night?" You blurted out as you released a shuddery breath, unshed tears bluring your vision.

Harlan's eyes softened and he gave you a compassionate smile. "Of course, dear. Take care of yourself."

You nodded with a wry smile and turned to leave. Attempting to bypass the large men that had engulfed the entire study.

There was no furniture at the door, no plants but you still gasped as your feet hit something, disbalancing you as you fell. However, before you could fall, a pair of strong arms caught you. You knew who caught you, you knew that scent too well. You looked up to glare at him. He made you fall.

"Woah, babe. I know women fall head over heels for me but I didn't mean it literally." He chuckled and you screwed your eyes shut to stop yourself from slapping the fuck out of him.

"Maybe you are way too sick. Should I escort you to your room?" He said and you snapped your gazes up at him.

You wanted to squirm out of his hold. Maybe stomp on his feet. You wanted to run away but the bruising grip around your waist didn't allow you the courtesy. His signet ring digging into your skin, as if pleading to agree, to hear whatever he wanted to say or do.

"Please." You whispered, you didn't know what you were asking. To tell you the truth and finally give you closure or to not break your heart again.

You squealed as he collected you in his arms. Promptly trapping you.

"Yeah, Bruce just go and drop her. Don't mess around here, okay." Andy said with a sigh.

"Of course, brother. Why would I do that now?" Bruce said with feigned innocence, causing all of his brothers to scoff.

He turned to Alaïa and stared at her expectantly. "Oh, third floor, last room on the left side." She hastily informed.

He nodded with his charming smile and dashed out the door. But you knew he wasn't taking you to your room.

"Bruce put me down." You said with calm firmness. Finally getting a hold of your emotions.

"No." He said with an attitude as he marched up the stairs, the forcing rocking you hard in his arms as you clutched his shoulders.

"Bruce, I said let me go and don't give me that attitude."

No answer.

"BRUCE LET ME DOWN." You were suddenly pushed into a dark corridor. His entire weight pinned you down to keep you from squirming away.

His head whipped to the right side, inky hair cascading over his forehead as your slap echoed in the hollow corridor. He did not move his head, did not bat an eye, hell! He looked like he wasn't even breathing.

You snapped his face to the left as you hit him again and again. You knew it was wrong. You knew he wasn't feeling more than a pat on his cheeks as you were no match for his strength but you still did it. Once, twice, thrice. You did it till tears rolling down your cheeks blurred your vision, till your hands hurt and shook, till they were covered by larger ones.

You wanted to cry on his shoulder, like how you did when you didn't get the expected result but you refrained from it. And leaned against the wall instead.

"Want to hit me again? Go ahead." Bruce whispered, his thumbs soothing your aching palms. There was emotion in his voice now, the care that he lacked before.

"You left," You said through sobs. "You left after we lost our virginity together!"

"I did. But I never wanted to leave you. I had to." He replied, his voice cracking in the end.

"That is not a good fucking excuse, Bruce Wayne." You bit back and tried to wriggle out of his hold but you were further pressed into the fall when he caught onto your escape plan.

"I'm not making any excuses Luna. I had no choice, we had no choice! They were so close to uncovering our identity. We would have been done for."

"Who they? What they? Bruce do you seriously give this explanation to every single woman you fuck and abandon? When you take their virginity or sack a married woman? You are a pathetic excuse of a man, Bruce." You were just his practice. Someone he lost his virginity to, nothing more, nothing less. You were done. You didn't want any closure, any explanation if this was what you were getting. You wanted him out of your sight and life. Even if it meant leaving your best friend's wedding.

"I swear on my dead mother's grave I didn't want to leave, Luna!" Bruce roared and you finally halted, coming down from your hysteria. You looked at him as you both heaved.

He swore on his mother. The mother who he loved dearly. Who was kicked out on the streets with his other four brothers by their father and mistress, throwing them out of the life of luxury to beg on the streets. The one who died in front of him in a car accident when he was just eight.

Bruce told you all this when he was too drunk or too sleepy to care. So you weren't relying on gossip here.

Now you listened to him as he took a deep breath. "Do you think I like it? Moving from one place to another on a day's notice? Working minimum wage jobs even though we were far more capable? Changing identities like clothes? Do you think we liked living in fear? I had a red dot on my forehead, Luna. Heck! Maybe I still do and when I say I didn't have the time to even say goodbye, I mean it. And no, I didn't sleep with married women, didn't take anyone's virginity. All hook ups were consensual and I don't give anyone any excuse or explanation."

"Is this really the truth?" You asked, exhausted and relaxed at the same time.

"It is, Luna. I never wanted to leave you. I-missed you." He whispered and gingerly touched his forehead with yours and when you didn't jerk away, he released a shuddery breath.

"I don't forgive you." You whispered back, touching his stubbled jaw. God, his warmth, he still used that aftershave. It brought back so many memories.

"You don't have to."

"Are you asking for it?"

"Yes."

To your dismay, a hope bloomed in your heart that maybe, you would be able to forgive him with time and rekindle the unsaid. However, you quickly crushed that desire. You were worlds apart now. You were still grinding your ass to study and get a good job while he was one of the richest men in the world. You didn't belong here. He did.

You slid your head from his forehead to his chest as he buried his head into your hair. You let a few more tears fall off your eyes as a pang of headache hit you. It was great while it lasted.

"Bruce-oh! You know her?" A surprised voice startled you as Bruce tensed underneath your hold.

He sucked in a deep breath and whirled around so quickly it gave you whiplash, his tall stature shielding you completely. "And now why would I tell you, shorty? Were you stalking me?" He said with a sardonic smirk as you gaped at him.

This was not the sensible, careful and vulnerable Bruce. This was the rude, condescending and arrogant rich asshole everybody knew him as. Granted he always had a bad temper with an even worse mouth but this was not him. Maybe he changed overtime.

Bucky didn't even bat an eye over his height's judgement and said. "No, I wasn't stalking you. You were taking too long so Steve told me to check if you were behaving. Now who is she?" Bucky's mouth also turned upwards, his almost green eyes twinkling with mischief as his chocolate hair fell over his forehead. Even if Bucky was on the shorter side, it did nothing to deter his beauty.

Your thoughts were interpreted by the loud snort of Bruce. "Come on, Buck. You are becoming such a pet of our Stevie. I don't know what treats he gives you but they sure look worth it. And as for her?" Bruce turned to you, head cocked with a raised eyebrow.

You sidestepped Bruce and came face to face with Bucky. You told him your name. "People call me Luna, I'm his friend from college."

Bucky let out a breathy chuckle. "Honey, he changed colleges like clothes. You'd have to be more specific."

"Very first college, Buck. You know." Bruce said nonchalantly and your head snapped to glare at him. You were half upset when you thought his brothers didn't know about you but as Bucky's flicked over you and your cheeks heated up. You wanted them to forget about you.

You glanced at Bucky with an awkward smile as realisation dawned on him and his mouth curved in a o shape. He stuck out his hand for you with a warm smile. "Don't worry, doll face. Only I and Bruce know about you and his… friendship." You shook it.

"Bruce, I didn't know she was such a beauty. You should have told us. We would have taken her with us." You and Bucky laughed. However, Bruce only narrowed his eyes and his jaw ticked.

"I should escort her to her room." Bucky said.

"But that's my duty."

"No, Harlan wants to discuss AI so he needs you. Plus, I have a message to deliver to, doll face."

Bruce huffed and nodded reluctantly. All three of you went to the stairs before diverging. However, you still felt Bruce's eyes as you glanced over your shoulder and found him looking longingly at you. You gave him a smile before he disappeared down the stairs.

"So what is the message you have to deliver, Mr. Barnes?" You ask in a whisper.

Bucky suddenly hooked his arm in your and pulled you towards him, making your breath hitch at the closeness as his heady scent made you dizzy.

"It's Bucky Alaïa wants you to meet her in the garden at 5. She wants you to meet Ransom." He whispered back in your ear and you gulped as it sounded like a dark lullaby to your brain.

"O-okay." You stammeredq out as your room finally arrived.

"Bye, bye, doll face." Bucky rasped close to your face and you were almost disappointed that you arrived so quickly.

Now that Bucky had left, his words registered in your brain. Why the fuck did Alaïa want you to meet Ransom? Was she planning on making you a mistress? You should really stop reading those reddit stories.

You dressed into a black, long dress after taking a nice shower and scrubbing away all the dirt and sweat. After shower feeling was the best feeling.

You gilded down the stairs, stepping into the bustling living room. You promptly avoided all of the people and made a beeline for the door leading to the garden. But you stumbled forward, almost falling to the ground as someone had just stepped on your dress. Perfect!

You turned around and your scathing words died an untimely death on your tongue as your eyes landed on the burly man. A phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as his brows were furrowed in concentration and frustration, his pink lips jutting out as his blonde hair made his blue eyes shine even brighter.

Steve Rogers. Even if he looked a tid bit more approachable than his twin, he still wasn't someone to mess with. And if you cussed at him, well then you could say goodbye to your career.

You sighed and tentatively stepped closer to him. Gingerly, you touched his bicep.

"Hey, stay away from him!" A coarse, deep voice thundered, making you shriek away from Steve as it left you shaking with fear.

This caught Steve's attention as he looked at you and then at his right. "Clark, where are your manners? Yelling at a lady? And for no reason?"

Clark hissed but you weren't able to look at him. "Shit, brother. I wasn't yelling at her. The man behind you, he has a knife."

You furrowed your brows and turned behind to a worker holding a knife with a deer caught in headlights look.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him as he quickly stuttered out. "This is to open a package." And tossed the knife to a nearby worker who disappeared to the storage room.

Steve sighed heavily. "Clark, I can defend myself, you know that right? Why do you overreact so much? And did you not see her?" And pointed at you.

Clark replied after a beat of silence. "I genuinely didn't. I'm sorry…" He started walking towards you but you only recoiled into Steve with each step he took.

You didn't want his apology, at least not right now. You were far too shaken to think coherently.

Steve sighed and coiled an arm around your clinging form and caressed your side. "Clark, not right now. She's far too shaken up to not cry or scream at you. Try again, later."

"But, brother-"

"Leave." He said through gritted teeth.

Clark's footsteps faded away as you involuntarily hid in his chest, his earthy scent grounding you as he shushed you. "Hey, doll. It's okay, it's alright. He won't hurt you, no one would. It was just a misunderstanding, stop shaking babydoll." He cooed.

His soft deep voice relaxed you but as soon as the fear was gone, embarrassment burnt your cheeks as you stepped away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… " You rasped. Did you just rub yourself on The Steve Rogers like a needy kitten?

"Don't say that, doll. My brother caused it so I must fix it."

"Thank you and-" You yelped as you descended down the floor. His foot was still on your dress. Great!

You braced yourself for the impact but bounced in two strong arms as your hands flew to his forearms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was standing on your dress." He said when you snapped your eyes open.

You were swimming in his blue gaze of concern and sincerity. "Yeah, that's what I was trying to say."

"What's your name, doll? Hmmm?" He asked after brought you back to your feet. Your eyes fluttered as his knuckles ran softly over your cheek.

You told him your name.

"Doll is much better, suits you well. Where were you going, anyway?" He quietly asked.

"I-um, I was going to meet Ransom."

"Oh, I was going to meet him as well. Let's go together."

"No, thank you." You politely declined.

"Come with me." He said and dragged you towards the garden.

You talked with Ransom till seven, he wasn't at all like the media projected him. Maybe he changed for Alaïa as he was really committed and determined to do things right. They had your blessings to put your feelings into words.

After Steve dragged you to the garden. He was courteous enough to let you talk to your friend and Ransom privately before he joined.

Then you went to finally meet Harlan and had the overdue talk. He wanted to discuss the latest trends in the writing industry and how to incorporate it in his company's branding. So, that it could appeal to younger audience.

It was a long and draining conversation and you deeply sighed, leaning against the wooden door of Harlan's office. You were finally going to the garden, which you wanted to revisit since you stepped foot in it.

"Miss?"

You gasped at the voice and started for the stairs but Clark's body blocked your path, pushing you against the door.

"I didn't want to scare you." He said, genuinely remorseful.

"You are doing that right now." You snapped and he put up his hands in surrender.

"It's not intentional, I swear."

It might not be. The brothers were tall, except Bucky but Clark was a beast. His biceps were larger than your hand and he practically dwarfed you with his sheer shadow. His eyes were also blue but they had a brown sprinkled in them. He had a little beard with a moustache that made him look even more intimidating and sexy. You had never seen a man who looked this sexy in a moustache.

"Well then be more mindful." You bit back.

He nodded and snaked his hand behind him and pulled out a rose. And not just any rose but a black rose. Where he found it you had no idea but it mesmerized you nonetheless. It was something you had only seen on television and seeing it in real life left you agape.

He offered the rose to you. "I'm sorry, princess." He whispered, the nickname heating up your cheeks.

You gingerly took the rose and let a giddy smile tug on your lips. "Okay, I forgive you. Just remember you are way bigger and stronger than most people. Use your strength wisely." He nodded with a bunny smile and you smiled back before heading to the garden.

You loudly and walked into the garden in peace. Walking in the open at night was another level of tranquillity that you didn't get very often, thanks to your dorm in the concrete jungle.

You twirled the rose in your hand, halting at nearby flowers. You bit your lips wanting to pluck some and put them in a vase. Even though they wouldn't last forever, the contrast would still look appealing.

But you didn't have the permission of any of the Drysdale.

"Couldn't sleep?" A dark baritone voice said from behind.

You flinched and turned around to be greeted by Andy Barber, wearing a simple white tee and sweats. A silver chain peeking through the collar as a smirk danced across his bearded cheeks.

"Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Barber."

"The feeling is mutual, miss. How's your headache now?" He raised a brow.

You told him your name and nickname. "And it's much better now, thanks for asking."

"Hmmm, Luna, so fitting for the person and the setting," He erased the distance between you two in two long strides and glanced at you. "I couldn't blame you. The night is beautiful."

"But the garden is even more beautiful." You said as he glanced at you.

"Indeed."

"I don't get to dwell in the greenery much." You resumed your walking.

"How so?" He followed.

"It's just study, sleep and sometimes relax for me."

"What are you studying?"

"Business, last year."

"Internship."

"Freelance." You said with a shake of your head. Andy somehow liked your presence and so did you. He was like the ocean.

"And won't you ask me about my work?" He teased as you were back behind the bushes of colourful roses.

"I know everything about that, Mr. Barber."

"It's Andy, darling," He said and only then did you notice the distance, or lack thereof between you and him. "And so confident about it, darling?"

You swallowed through your smile. "Well, everybody knows about how your work is going. So I'm pretty confident."

He chuckled. "I like it. Tell me more."

You resisted the urge to narrow your eyes as he seemed way too interested in a mere student and you have also grown tired.

"A black rose?" He voiced suddenly, lifting your hand to examine the item.

"Yes, isn't it unique?"

"That it is. Who gave you this?" He demanded softly.

You hesitated before speaking. "Mr. Kent."

"Who?" Andy asked as if you had told him the answer to the Bermuda Triangle mystery.

"Mr. Kent " You squealed as his thumb brushed the underside of your hand.

"Why?"

"Because he accidentally scared me by screaming."

He huffed out a chuckle. "Typical of Clark," He walked closer to you, ceasing the distance between you two completely. You averted your eyes as the tension grew. "It'll look better with some companions."

His hand went above your head and you gasped as he presented you red, yellow, white and light pink roses.

"Andy, you don't have the permission for that." You breathed and shook your head.

"Oh honey, I have all the permission you need." He said and handed you the roses. "Take them, they'll look good together."

You nodded. "Ah, actually I'm feeling sleepy and I'm kinda an insomniac, so it's an opportunity I can't miss. We'll resume our conversation tomorrow." You lied.

He pondered over your words, making you nervous before he smiled and nodded. "Of course, sleep is important. Especially to a beauty like you."

You offered a parting smile and walked away. You hugged yourself as a chill ran down your spine. It was not because of the cold night but the gaze that bore into you and the dark aura that clung to you, you couldn't shake it off even when you tried.

You felt something would change drastically, what and how. You didn't know.

Taglist: @goldenharrysworld , @magnificentsaladllama , @iloveavengers , @charmed-asylum , @moonstruckbirdie

237 notes · View notes

nanamisflowerfield · 2 months

Text

First Meeting (Dick Grayson x f!Reader)

︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵︵✿︵

A journalist meets the one and only Nightwing in a creepy warehouse. But they didn't know that this was their first of many encounters.

︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶︶✿︶

Blüdhaven. The one city that the vigilante named Nightwing called his home. But he wasn’t the only one who sees the city in New Jersey their home. Many people did that, including (y/n) (l/n). It was her new home. Leaving behind the bustling and bright streets of Metropolis, she had begun a new journey and life an investigative journalist in her new home. It had been a year since she moved to the city, and her life was now-.

“- Super boring.” You mumbled, holding your phone to your ear, while hearing your best friend chuckle on the other side.

“Ohh, come on, (y/n). I’m sure that Blüdhaven is pretty interesting. You have been living there for a year now and the way I know you, you probably haven’t seen the best of the city!” You rolled your (e/c) eyes at her. “Have you already seen Nightwing?”

You could only sigh at her question. Nightwing? You really hoped to see that idiot, but the dark-haired vigilante was like a damn ninja and always disappeared, once you were nearby! Even though you only needed one interview with the masked hero!

“Who cares about him? The better question is; is Clark late again for your little date?” You smirked, walking through the dark alley and past smelly trash bins, as a rat ran tried to eat something out of there.

You heard a loud “No!” and some shuffling, knowing that it surely was Lois’ husband Clark, who tried to put on his smoking as fast he could. The Clark Kent. A great journalist, best friend and also Superman. Yes, you knew that already. Not because they told you their big secret, but because you were pretty good at your job and figured it out by yourself and when you put the proof onto the table in front of your best friends and the sweetest couple on earth, they told you everything.

Your footsteps echoed in the silence of the street, engulfing your body with its darkness, while you walked near to the warehouse. The place that might help you with your next article, as you heard that there might be some information about a street gang, called Crimson Vipers. “Alright, Lois… Have fun at your date night, greet Supes from me and don’t do any funny business, if you know what I mean.” – “Yeah, yeah. And could you do me a favor and babysit little Jon next week?”

You told her that you might have some time, before you clicked on the red button on your phone and turning on the flashlight app. Time to investigate!

Your hand slowly turned the doorknob down, sneaking into the big and dark warehouse. At first, it looked like many other ones. The moonlight revealed neglected pallets and boxes. Only you and some abandoned objects were lying here. That was a good sign. A very good one. So, you could easily get some information about the gang!

Turning towards a corner, you found a door, opened it and saw some plans scattered around the room. Some were hanging on the walls, others on the ground. Perfect.

The door behind you closed with a soft click, as you walked through the room, trying to take as many pictures as you could, until you heard some loud voices behind the door. Probably some Crimson Vipers members?

Your heart raised, as you ducked down, trying to find something, anything to defend yourself, until your eyes gazed over a crowbar. That could work…

Tightly you held the dirty and rusty crowbar in your hands, hiding behind some crates while your breath shallow as the voices grew louder. You heard your heart beating loud and fast. Gulping your fear down, you looked towards the door, waiting for the right moment for you to beat them up.

The door creaked open, revealing a group of masked and buff individuals. One laughed sinister at the joke his friend and colleague did, sending shivers down your spine. But you tried to forget your fear. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, as you clenched the crowbar tighter and tighter, trying to figure out a plan. If they won’t see you, you could perhaps climb up the boxes and go through the window, but they were pretty high up.

But when three members suddenly gathered up and stood around in silent, one spoke up, pointing towards a map and explaining their next plan. Realizing the situation, you thought that this was your chance. Now or never!

You can gather some valuable information, which might make a sensational article! Your heart pounded louder, as you snapped some pictures and even tried to record it all. You needed to capture every single detail.

Your instincts told you to dash away and flee as fast you could! If only Superman could be here. He could easily save you, but you were now in Blüdhaven. “Damn…” You mumbled to yourself, preparing your nerves to make a quick exit.

But the gods might have heard your prayers as they left the room, making you sigh out of happiness and relief. But you still had one problem.

How should you leave this place? There were probably some gang members out there. The moment your feet slowly moved away from the crates; you heard a window above you open. Your (e/c) closed. You hoped that they didn’t find you and if one might grab you, you surely will beat them up with your new weapon.

And that’s what you did, when a hand grabbed your wrist. With your eyes closed, you swung your weapon in the direction of the stranger, narrowly missing them. “Woah, woah, calm down.” You heard the person say.

Your eyes widen. Was it not one of the Crimson Vipers?

No.

The person in front of you, who stood there gracefully in unmistakable dark clothes and blue emblem on his chest told you who it was.

“Nightwing.”

The vigilante’s hands went up in surrender. “I’m not here to hurt you, okay?” He tried to calm you down. But you ignored his words, as you asked him rushed; “Why are you here?”

The dark-haired man only rubbed his neck, shaking his head with a small chuckle. “Well, I’m here to, you know, stop these bad guys. But what are you doing here?” – “Uhhh… Investigating?”

“Hey! I forgot something, I will be back in a sec’!” You heard a voice behind the closed door and as it opened with a loud bang, the criminal looked at your direction. The bald guy grabbed his gun, pointed it towards Nightwing, who looked at him surprised. The vigilante probably tried to find a plan to safe you, while kicking their butts, but before you could hear the gun shooting, you stepped in front of Nightwing, crowbar in hand and adrenaline rushing your body.

Your hand swung once again and this time, you didn’t miss. The buff guy fell down and (e/c) orbs moved back to the tall guy behind you.

“Uh… Thanks.” He whispered, disarming the guy on the ground and turned his head towards you. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s pretty dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” You scoffed. “I just saved your masked butt with a crowbar.” You smirked at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest with a proudly, while Nightwing rolled his eyes. You swore that he coughed to hide his little laughter just now. He genuinely was amused by you.

But before any of you could say anything, you heard loud voices again. The criminals! How could you forget them so easily again? They might wonder where they friend was and why it takes him so long to get something back. Damn it!

Their voices growing louder, as they ran towards the door. Nightwing stood up, pulling you towards the crates. “You need to go. Now.” He whispered, glancing towards the window. You silently nodded, getting out of the window with Nightwing’s help, who guided you with ease. His movements were fluid, every step calculated. He was amazing.

When you reached the window, your hands gripped the ledge, while the handsome man boosted you up. “Go.”

You looked down to him, hearing the loud shouts of the criminals that were now aware of your presence. “Aw, come on, guys. Do you really want to hurt a lady? Focus on me.” He turns to them and with a swift kick, he engaged the bad guys, giving you the opportunity to hoist yourself up and through the opening.

When you took deep breathes in and out on the fire stairs, you looked through the large windows, seeing Nightwing holding his own against the criminals. His movements were mesmerizing, as if he dances around the criminals, kicking and punching them several times, as they fell to the ground. You took one picture of the fight, before climbing down the bright fire stairs. Sirens of the police wailed in the distance, signaling their approach. Their lights bright, just like the blue emblem of the chest of the Blüdhaven’s vigilante.

Back at your apartment, you found yourself running towards your desk, typing the newest article. and thanks to your bravery and skills, you found out that The Crimson Vipers' failed operation had become a headline. Your editor was very pleased to even see a picture of Nightwing and the city? Well, the city might have been a little bit safer now.

And you weren’t the only one who flipped through the pages of the Blüdhaven Bulletin. A young man’s ocean-blue eyes widened at a headline that read, “Nightwing Thwarts Crimson Vipers' Plot.” Curiosity piqued, as he read on and discover that the article was written by a (y/n) (l/n). That must have been the brave stranger he saved that night.

The same day, you found yourself at a crime scene, hoping to gather more information for your next big story. You approached the crime scene, your camera dangling around your neck. A police officer seemed to recognize you, as he left his colleagues alone with three handcuffed criminals that had tried to rob a bank.

“You know… I read an article about Nightwing and the Crimson Vipers. Impressive work.” You glanced towards the officer, who leaned on the wall next to you, while you were a bit surprised at the dark-haired man. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. That must have been you, huh? You seem like a courageous person.”

You chuckled at the stranger’s words. Yes. Some might call you like that and others called you an idiot. “I’m just doing my job.”

“So… You are back for more? Trying to solve the crime before we do?” He teased, his blue eyes twinkling. You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Someone's got to keep you guys on your toes.” He chuckled. “Well, keep up the good work. Maybe one day, we'll get to see an exclusive Nightwing interview.”

Dick's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he straightened up. “Keep it up. Blüdhaven needs more journalists like you.”

As he walked away, you couldn't help but smile. Maybe Blüdhaven wasn't as boring as you thought. And perhaps, the masked vigilante and the police officer were both part of a wonderful story waiting to unfold.

🔖 Taglist:

Masterlist ❀ DC Comics Masterlist ✿ City Lights and Secret Meetings Masterlist ❀ navigation

Reblogs, plot ideas, comments and a ko-fi are appreciated. ( ‘ω’ ) © nanamisflowerfield. Do not repost, rewrite, plagiarize my work.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #x reader #dc comics #dc comics x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #city lights and secret meetings

60 notes · View notes

bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

Text

Let's Marvin Gaye and Get It On - DCEU! Clark Kent x Reader

A/N: sorry this idea got stuck in my head and I had to let it out.

pairing: DCEU! Clark Kent x fem!reader

warnings/content: p in v, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, softdom! clark

word count: 1.4k

You and Clark spent your evening the way you spent most evenings - sitting on the couch together watching television, often you choosing to catch up on Love Island or Below Deck while Clark happily sits with you, watching the baseball game on his phone, scrolling through news stories. It’s quiet and uneventful, but it’s routine, and neither of you seemed to mind usually, but tonight, tonight was different.

Clark had been working late the past few days on a story, writing and revising and editing, piles of discarded paper tossed about the floor of his office at home, his neat, masculine writing scratched out or scribbled over on all of them. He always preferred to handwrite his notes for a story and refer to them again as he typed the final draft - “call me old-fashioned,” he’d always said. He’d been running himself into the ground trying to finish what he was working on, and you could tell the stress was getting to him as he began to withdraw from you. He’d grown quieter, becoming less and less of a conversationalist as the week went on, the normal fiery passion behind his kisses sizzling out to just sweet, soft pecks on the cheek here and there with a hollow, emptiness to them. Not wanting Clark or your relationship to suffer further, you devised a plan.

As your show ended, your lips curled up into a grin, eyes watching Clark’s reaction to his phone to gauge when to put your plan into motion. You could hear a commercial come on during a break in the game, the sounds of a sales pitch for beers blaring through the small speaker built into his phone. Clark huffed a sigh and set the phone down before turning to look at you. He caught a glimpse of the smirk that you were now sporting, and cocked his eyebrow in response.

“You ok, baby? You’re looking at me…differently,” He started.

You slowly straddled Clark’s hips, lowering yourself into his lap as you rested your arms on his shoulders, smiling sweetly at him. The hem of your skirt lifted up as you sat, revealing your lack of undergarments. It always seemed to turn Clark on to see you like this, a tiny skirt with no barrier between his hand and your core. He loved teasing you normally - he liked the reaction he got, watching you squirm and struggle with keeping it to yourself whenever you went out together.

“You seem tense, sweetheart,” you purred, nodding your head as your finger traced his jawline slowly.

You watched as Clark swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. His icy blue eyes never left you as you settled yourself onto his thighs, your hands dragging their way lazily down his torso, the flannel material of his button up shirt grazing against the pads of your fingers. He stared at you with newfound intensity, watching as your hands slipped the buttons of his shirt open one at time with ease. You began slliding the material back off his shoulders slightly, just enough to expose his skin, the dark curls of hair on his chest now very clearly visible, tapering off before trailing down his stomach to the waistline of his jeans.You drifted your touch down to his belt, undoing the metal buckle slowly, dragging your actions out to see how far you could push Clark.

“Honey, you’re driving me crazy right now, you know that?”

His voice was soft and sweet, yet a hint of dominance lingered as he spoke, his lips just barely away from your ear, his warm breath against your earlobe was enough to set your skin alight with passion, a tingling sensation overcoming you from head to toe as you tugged on his belt, freeing it from his jeans before letting the buckle clatter to the floor. You hummed as you undid his jeans, smirking at him innocently as your eyes met his. His normally cheerfully bright blue eyes had darkened, now full of lust and wanting as he watched your every move.

You got up from his lap just enough to tug his bottoms down, letting them pool around his ankles. Your eyes drifted to the sight of his cock. No matter how many times you’d seen it over the course of your relationship, you couldn’t help but be taken slightly aback by its sheer size - thicker and longer than you’d expected the first time you’d slept with him, but even now at the thousandth time seeing it, you found yourself wearing the same proud yet intimidated smirk as you took in the sight of it. You licked your lips before taking your spot back on his lap. This time however, you sat back slightly, resting your body onto his thighs to tease him.

Clark tutted before grabbing you by the hips and swiftly pulling you on top of his lap, thrusting his hardened cock into you. His hand gripped your hair, giving it a gentle tug to bring your gaze on to him. You let out a soft gasp, caught off guard by Clark’s sudden dominance. You loved when he took charge, but it happened so infrequently that when it did occur, you were always surprised. Clark was typically, very much an equality champion when it came to sex - you both had the same level of control and say in everything, which you did appreciate, most of the time. He smirked at the sound of your gasp, leaning in to whisper into your ear, his cock remaining inside you, though his hips refusing to move an inch for you.

“You wanted to keep my cock warm for me? That’s sweet of you, honey,” He teased, his voice rasping at you as he spoke.

“Clark, baby,” you whined, grinding your hips into his as you tried to urge him to thrust again, “Need you.”

“Need me to do what, sweetheart?” He grunted, trying to resist the urge to thrust into you, wanting to tease you a little longer. “Need you to fuck me, please?” You begged, nodding your head. Clark gave you a devilish smile as he began bucking his hips upwards into your core, his hands holding you in place by your hips as he fucked into you. You began melting into his touch, your thighs quivering as you felt him thrusting into you harder and faster with each movement. Your hands found their way onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you steadied yourself. You felt Clark growl your name into your ear before taking your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a gentle tug.

“You like feeling me fill you up, don’t you baby?”

A loud whine escaped your lips as you bounced up and down on Clark’s cock, feeling your muscles tense up and tighten around him. Clark let out a strangled moan, saying your name as if it was a spoken prayer, worshipping your every feature, every movement as you brought him closer and closer to the edge.

“Taking me so well, honey, being such a good girl, taking all of me.”

You threw your head back as you felt him thrust harder into your spot, making you see stars with every move he made, his movements becoming less calculated, less reformed, his hips stuttering as he hit his orgasm. Your muscles gripped his cock tightly, clenching onto him as he filled you, your own orgasm following suit. As you rode it out, you felt Clark give a few slow thrusts of his hips forwards. You stood up on trembling legs, feeling everything Clark had just given you drip down your leg. He smirked up at you from his seat on the couch, dragging his finger through it before shoving two thick fingers back inside of your throbbing pussy. You let out a loud, almost pornographic sounding moan as he fucked his fingers into you.

“You like that, honey? Like when I push it back into that sweet pussy of yours?” He teased before pulling his hand away.

A trembling, quivering mess, you took your seat beside Clark back, sitting down on the couch. Clark gave you a lopsided smile as he turned to face you, nodding his head.

“I’m less stressed out now, if that was your whole plan,” he said matter-of-factly.

“How did you know?”

“Baby, did you forget I’m a journalist? I have sources,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

#dceu!superman x you #dceu!superman x reader #dceu!clark kent x reader #dceu!clark kent x you #dceu fic #dceu clark kent #dceu clark kent x reader #dceu clark kent x you #dceu superman x you #dceu superman #dceu superman x reader #dceu!superman #dceu! clark kent #dceu! clark kent x you #dceu! clark kent x reader #dceu! superman x you #dceu! superman x reader #dceu!clark kent #henry cavill characters

74 notes · View notes

imagines--galore · 11 months

Text

||I’m Convinced||

Summary: Once the fake-date was over, you went back home, contemplating on what had occurred. And how within the span of a few hours you had begun to look at your best friend in a completely different light. But then, had his feelings changed as well? Companion piece to Convince Me.

Pairing: Superman aka Clark Kent x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None, just some kissing and teasing.

A/N: You guys voted for it and here is the second part! Hope all of you enjoy!!!! Also I have NO idea what I just wrote. Fluff? Heat? Tease?

The first thing you did, once you got back home, was remove your heels. What had possessed you to wear the ones that were the strappiest was beyond you. The entire lower half of your legs was imprinted with the straps once they were off your feet. Slumping into the couch, you turned on the television to catch up on the latest news about the newest villain terrorizing the world.

It would seem that during your travel time from the restaurant to your apartment, the Justice League had managed to subdue the would-be conqueror. You watched as the man was being led away in handcuffs and under maximum security. The camera cut to Superman speaking to the Press.

They very sight of him was enough to make you blush to the very tips of your ears and for your heart to skip a beat.

Utterly ridiculous.

You were acting like a love-struck teen who had just had their first kiss. From their first crush. Who also happened to be the most popular guy in school.

Good Lord, so many clichés came to your mind that you groaned. “Maybe I should stop watching rom-coms.” You spoke to yourself, hands lifting to undo the pins in your hair to allow the soft tresses to tumble down around your bare shoulders.

Leaving the television on in the background, you moved to your bedroom, intent on getting out of the dress and into something more comfortable.

However, the sight of Superman hovering just outside the glass partition of your balcony had you stopping in your tracks.

Your lips parted and you glanced over your shoulder where you could see the television screen. Seems Wonder Woman had taken over talking to the Press.

Had Clark cut his interview short to come here?

A smile pulled at your lips as you slowly walked towards the double doors, but you didn’t open them. He landed on the balcony, and you took a few moments to take in the sheer power that radiated from him even with the glass between you both. His light blue eyes somehow stood out against the dark blue of his suit, making them appear all the more mesmerizing. And then there was his smile.

You knew you were mirroring that smile as you laid a hand against the glass. He copied your action, resting his own hand where yours was on the other side.

That was all that separated the two of you. All you wanted was to get rid of the final wall that stood between you, but you hesitated. Your eyes flickered from your hands to meet his gaze. You could practically feel the warmth that radiated from him in that moment as his eyes locked with your own.

The kiss from earlier replayed in your mind, and suddenly you wanted to feel his lips upon yours once more.

Your breath fogged the glass since you were standing so close to it. Your mind raced. You knew if you opened the door there would be no going back. No more walls or pretenses between the both of you. No more keeping the other at arm’s length for the sake of the friendship you shared. Having your friendship change into a relationship wouldn’t be so bad. It would be the same wouldn’t it? Or would the dynamic change completely? Would you become a target for every villain that wanted to harm Superman? Not that you weren’t one already. Being one of his best friends and all.

Neither of you knew how long you both stood there, simply looking at one another. But then, suddenly his demeanor changed. His smile turned.......sad, and a with a slight nod of acceptance, he began to turn away.

Your heart jolted. You felt as if you were falling into a dark chasm. Your entire body felt numb.

All this at the sight of him turning away from you.

With a strength that rattled the glass doors in their frames, you threw them open and wrapped your arms around Clark from behind. You buried your face in his cape, squeezing with all your might, hoping he would be able to pick on the extent of your feelings for him.

“Don’t go.” You whispered. “Don’t leave.”

A moment of silence before he laughed softly. In relief. You felt the vibrations of it against his strong back as you sighed and smiled.

He wouldn’t leave.

You felt his hand come up to place atop yours. “It’ll take more then your words to get me to stay.” He said, his voice soft. So soft, in fact, you didn’t think you had ever heard him speak like that before. It caused a warmth to settle inside you, which only grew when he turned around to face you.

Your arms dropped to your side, as you tilted your head back to look at him properly. Seeing that playful glint in his eyes and the smirk he wore, prompted you to return the smirk and push your chin out in defiance. “What’ll it be then? Dinner at your favorite place?” You asked.

He only shook his head, taking a step closer and reaching a hand out towards you. You simply took a step back. He looked confused for a moment before he realized what you were doing and that smirk returned.

Game on.

“Dinner does sound nice, but it isn’t enough to warrant my presence.” You hummed under your breath, pretending to think.

“Tickets to the next Country Fair?” He shook his head. Another step forward, with you mirroring his action, but in the opposite direction.

“Wally already invited me.”

“A puppy?”

“I already have Krypto.”

“A new watch?”

“You gave me a new one on my birthday this year.”

“A massage?”

“Won’t do me any good. Alien skin remember?”

“A month of no rom-coms?”

“Tempting, but still not enough to convince me to stay.”

With every question he would step towards you and you would step back. Your eyes never strayed from his, and the smiles the both of you wore never wavered. There was something palpable between the both of you, a tension that had never been there before. One that was urging you to end your little game of cat and mouse and simply give in.

But you wouldn’t.

The buildup was just as sweet as the result. And you knew Clark was enjoying it as much as you were. With the way his smile was equal parts playful and sexy, and how his eyes kept dropping to your lips. You weren’t any better though. Your gaze kept roaming over his entire body, watching the Kevlar of his suit stretch with every movement he made.

It was enough to make you a little weak in the knees.

Your back hit the wall, and you knew your game would be over soon.

He loomed over you, arms coming up to rest his hands against the wall on either side of your head to cage you in. In an effort to not swoon from having him stand so close to you, or to see just how dark his eyes had gotten, you turned your head away, choosing to focus on his hand instead.

“A good story?” You whispered, biting your lip when you felt his warm hot breath fan over your exposed neck and decolletage. Your skin felt so warm that the necklace you wore was cool against your neck.

“I’m already backed up at work.” He responded, his voice low and slightly hoarse. His nose brushed against your chin, causing an involuntary shudder to run the entire length of your body.

“I’ll make a pie for you?” You offered, your words coming out in a breathy whisper as you attempted to keep your hands at your sides by gripping the fabric of your dress. A dark chuckle sounded in the room.

“You’re a shit baker, Y/n.” God, the way he said your name. There had to be a law against it. His nose moved to run along the side of your neck, where he inhaled deeply.

Fuck! He was inhaling your scent. A sinful sound fell from your lips, a combination of a sigh and a moan. You decided to change tactics. He had already won once tonight, and you’d be damned before you let him win again by wearing you down.

Forcing your head to move so your eyes could meet his, you spoke. “Swearing in front of a lady? I am so disappointed in you Clark. I took you to be a gentleman.”

To hell with self-control.

One of your hands came up to rest against the center of his chest, where the crest for his family was inlaid into the uniform. The other came to run your fingers in a teasing manner up and down the length of his arm. While your own body burned, you could practically feel the heat radiating from his as well.

Your hands on him did make him pause for a few seconds, and you smiled in triumph, thinking that you had him.

But then his lips found the shell of your ear and he kissed you.

Sweet. Heated. Gentle.

He leaned back so he could look at you and you gave him a slightly annoyed look. “This is cheating, you’re distracting me.” You pouted, to which he raised an eyebrow. “As if you’re doing anything different.” He motioned to where your fingers were now running along the side of his neck and slowly making their way into his hair.

You shrugged. “Maybe this is how I will bribe you to stay.” He shook his head, a gentle loving smile pulling at his lips as he cupped the side of your face. You leaned into his warm palm, marveling at how gentle and soft he was with you given his super-strength.

“I don’t need to be bribed Y/n. I already have my reason to stay.” He stated, to which you gave a little look of confusion. “Whats that?” You asked.

“You.”

Checkmate.

Your face burned with how violently you blushed. Your heart picked up speed. And you were sure you had stopped breathing for a few seconds as your brain tried to process what he had just said.

Your lips parted in surprise, as you stared up at him.

And that look of smug triumph and tease in his blue eyes was enough to break you from your trance.

With a growl you ducked out from under him and grabbed one of your many pillows from your bed. You began to hit him from every angle you could, while he had the audacity to laugh as he tried to shield himself from your fluffy assault.

“You are such an ass Clark! I should’ve let you freeze outside.” You yelled with each hit, his laughter only adding fuel to your embarrassment of how easily he had won you over.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He managed to say in-between his laughter. But hitting him with the pillow wasn’t enough. You wanted to win, you wanted to one-up him.

So when he tripped over your discarded heels and fell to the ground, you threw aside the pillow. Giving him no time to recover you straddled his waist, before leaning down and fusing both your lips in a kiss.

You were the one doing the kissing, since Clark laid underneath you completely unresponsive. His entire body had stiffened, and you felt a surge of satisfaction run through you, knowing you had caught him off guard.

Just as he had done to you earlier that night, you pulled back, though you didn’t pull away. You were still laying on him as you smiled smugly.

“Convinced?” Your voice sounded breathless.

Clark continued to stare up at you dumbfounded. “Didn’t think I had it in me did you?” You chuckled, enjoying every moment of your victory.

Suddenly your world flipped, and you found yourself laying on your back with Clark above you. You didn’t care though, you continued smiling up at him. “Fine.” He stated begrudgingly. “You won this round. But I still have a win from earlier tonight. After all I did convince your parents that we were dating.” He was slowly leaning down, his gaze never once breaking away from yours.

“Then why don’t you stop talking and claim your prize?” You teased, arms coming up to wrap around his strong shoulders. His answering smile was as brilliant as the sun.

“Gladly.”

And then he was kissing you. Kissing you with all he was worth as you laid underneath him, his strong body hovering over you. A sensual sigh sounded from deep in your throat as you finally gave into the feelings of pure want and need that had been clawing their way to get out from where you had caged them the entire night. Your fingers played with his hair, your body arched against his. The latter prompted him to bite your lower lip, and taking your open mouth as an invitation, began to explore you with his tongue. He groaned as his arms wrapped around you so he could shift the both of you to lay on your sides. The change in position allowed him to explore with his hands. Running them all along your body and mapping every dip and curve.

“Does kissing you mean what I think it means?” He whispered against your lips, unable to pull away from your intoxicating taste. “Sometimes actions speak louder then words.” You returned, before gripping the hair at the back of his head and pulling slightly, silently cuing him to kiss you again.

He gladly did so, kissing you deep and true whilst cupping your face between his hands. “Think I’m your new Kryptonite E.T.?” You asked with a gentle look in your eyes as you panted for breath once he had pulled back.

Clark shook his head, bringing one of your hands up to his lips and kissing your wrist. “You are my sun, Y/n.” He stated in a strong voice, prompting you to giggle and blush at the same time.

“You sure you haven’t been watching rom-coms behind my back Clark? Didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

“Mention this to anyone from the League and I will withhold further kisses.”

“I won’t tell a soul.”

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x oc #superman x reader #superman x y/n #superman imagine #dc imagine

301 notes · View notes

ellethespaceunicorn · 5 days

Text

*WIP THURSDAY*

I was tagged by the lovely @slippinninque and I'm happy to share some sneak peeks into my WIPs 📖

I have three recent WIPs (besides my series I am still working on), and I'm excited to list them here:

1. The Siren of Baker Street - Henry Cavill!Sherlock Holmes x Black!OFC (Explicit - smut) - Sherlock is enamored with a new client.

"Before she knew it, Pearl is kneeling next to Sherlock’s armchair. Her shivering hands reaching out to warm herself by the fire. Sherlock watches quietly as the fire illuminates her face in an ethereal glow. In contrast to the warmth of the fire, Sherlock is frozen in his spot as he contemplates his next move."

2. Untitled* - Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader (Explicit - smut/violence) - Lloyd deals with a toxic alpha male that is bothering you.

"He was always a fan of this outfit because it hugged all of your curves. The halter top accented your full breasts with a healthy amount of cleavage. The high-waisted fitted skirt showed off your wide hips and thick thighs and stopped just under your knee. A pair of stilettos, with a little buckle that Lloyd bends down to secure, completes the ensemble."

*This story is actually based on an ask i received (nonny, I love your ideas btw).

3. Don't Kill My Vibe - Henry Cavill!Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader (Explicit - smut/weed use) - You finally agree to help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

"You were already elevated, having taken a couple puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “oh wow” every so often. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick and Clark wasn’t stupid."

I'm switching back and forth between writing all of these at the same time. Yes, that's crazy, but so is writing for free and praying for the dopamine that creative feedback gives us.

I'm open to any questions about these sneak peeks as well, I welcome it, honestly.

no pressure tags: @raccoon-eyed-rebel @blackwood4stucky @ronearoundblindly @navybrat817 @targaryenvampireslayer

@winter2112rose @hansensgirl @vellicore

#wip game #wip thursday #black fic writer #hc sherlock #sherlock holmes x black ofc #sherlock holmes x black!ofc #sherlock holmes x ofc #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x black reader #lloyd hansen x black!reader #lloyd hansen x reader #clark kent #clark kent x black reader #clark kent x black!reader #clark kent x reader #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic teaser

33 notes · View notes

darkdarkstucky · 1 year

Text

𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕.

SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

WARNINGS: A/B/O Dynamics, Sexual Themes, Polyandry, M/F/M, Angst, Mentions of violence, Alpha x Omega, Ruts and Heats, Threesomes, Oral (F and M recieving), Eventual Soft!dark themes, Manipulation, Breeding Kink, Graphic depictions of violence, Dark Themes.

PAIRINGS: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Clark x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve x Reader.

CHAPTERS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

409 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 months

Note

Congrats Lou!!! I really love your works, maybe 22 w/ Clark Kent???

.⋆｡Distractible｡⋆.

Clark Kent x plus size reader

You’re a damn good distraction

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing, teasing, implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k follower celebration

That damn dimple, it was fucking taunting you. The simple divot in Clark’s prominent chin that was just big enough for you to fit the side of your thumb into like it was made to do that. Sometimes it was covered by thick dark hair when he had gone a couple days without shaving and then your man would re-emerge from the bathroom and the dimple would return along with baby soft cheeks.

And when Clark was generous enough to let you sit in his lap while he worked from his home office, the temptation was almost too much. It was his fault really, he should’ve known better to not be so absolutely delicious. His jaw flexed and shifted, keeping your hungry eyes trained on that stupid dimple. His broad chest rumbled with his words as he spoke on the phone so some colleague whose name you didn’t care to recall at this moment.

Suddenly, you couldn’t take it anymore.

Your lips pressed softly to the small sliver of skin along his collarbone that his t-shirt didn’t cover. Clark’s large hand rested on your plush thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. The next kiss was at the base of his throat, you loved the way you could feel his pulse beat against your tongue as you lapped at him.

You winced when his grip got a little too tight but you didn’t let that deter you from your mission. Your teeth grazed his Adam's apple and you smirked as it bobbed. Clark cleared his throat and apologised to whoever he was on the phone with.

You nosed at his jaw, practically purring with happiness. You ran your hand up his front, revealing the firmness of his body against your palm. Then finally, your lips reached that perfect little dent in his chin and you were content.

You bit and kissed and sucked fully knowing that you would be unable to leave a mark on his flawless skin. You ignored the way your boyfriend attempted to subtly pry you away from him without alerting the person on the other end of the phone that something entirely not work appropriate was occurring. Yet you continued your little escapade, taking a kind of sick pleasure from teasing him like how he would do to you when you were trying to work.

Clark shifted in his office chair and it was easy to figure out why. The hard bulge in his sweatpants was now nestled perfectly between your legs and if you were to just move one more inch, he would be pressed against your panty-clad pussy. He shot you a warning glance but the way that his pupils were slowly consuming the blues of his eyes gave you all the motivation you needed to continue.

“Hang up.” You muttered into his skin as you pressed your chest to his, letting him get a clear view of the way your tits squished into his pecs. Clark groaned silently, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to retain some semblance of control.

His hand darted from your thigh to your jaw, forcibly pulling your lips from his skin and moved his phone away from his ear. “Stop kissing me for a minute, I’m trying to have a conversation. I promise I’ll take care of you in a minute, I just need to get this done.” You stuck your bottom lip out at him as best you could with your cheeks squished together by his massive hand.

“Take me to bed now and I’ll do that thing with my tongue.”

“Sorry, I have to call you back later. Something just came up.” Clark had barely hung up the phone and tossed it onto the desk before you found yourself over his shoulder as he practically ran from the room, his booming footsteps making you giggle against his back. “You and your damn kisses.” He mock whined. You retaliated by landing quite a firm smack to his perky backside.

“Not my fault you’re so distractible.” His warning growl told you that you would be eating your words soon enough.

DC Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv

@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8 @honkytonkbabe @qardasngan

#5k celebration #clark kent x plus size reader #superman x plus size reader #clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman x reader #female reader #reader insert #plus size reader #fluff #kal el #superman #clark kent x you #anon #inbox #dc #clark x reader #clark x you #clark kent x y/n

261 notes · View notes

milknhonies · 10 days

Text

Lassoed In Love

|| Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: An investigation turns into a car accident rescue, a cup of coffee, an argument...and heated kisses.

Pairing: Farmer!Clark Kent X Teacher!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, No Sex in this chapter, Slowburn, descriptions of car accident, anger management issues, no sex but lots of kissing, topic of rape being mentioned.

Word Count: 8k

Author Notes: To save me from total writers block I thought I'd share this story. I will repeat. I HAVE NOT ABANDONED MY OTHER STORIES.

Inspiring Song: "Too Sweet" by Hozier

CLARK

Tossing and turning in the blankets, Clark sighed with frustration. His head turned and stared at the empty space on the mattress. He had half the mind to drive to the dump and collect the old one again. But it still smelt like her. That selfish bitch. The mother of his daughter...Lois.

His body yearned for intimacy, aroused for the warmth of a woman. He grabbed himself beneath the sheets and groaned softly. What was he to do? Porn was starting to be an issue. Some nights he felt like a teenage boy covered in acne hiding porn magazines from his mother, only now it was deleting the internet history off the computer he shared with his daughter and hoping he wouldn’t wake her up with the wet squelching.

He sighed clenching his eyes shut. The crickets outside chirped like an obnoxious symphony. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight again. Not with how his thoughts consumed him.

‘Coffee...no...I need a whiskey.’

With a heavy set groan he rose from the covers, naked and larger than life. His muscular body moved with soft cracks down his spine. The icy floor beneath his bare feet was a gracious gift, cooling down his hot blood and calming down his own erection.

Padding to the living room, he crouched low to the liquor cabinet. All the bottles were in different places than he last recalled. He didn’t dwell as he poured himself a drink and sniffed. No smell. He lifted the glass to his lips. Water.

He blinked. Sighed. Couldn’t help the tiny jerk rise to the corner of his lips.

‘Fucking kids.’

Lara and her friends were going to the newest Mission Impossible movie, or at least that’s what he was told. Clearly, they’d snuck into the cabinet at some point and helped themselves to the joyful adult treasures while sneakily topping it off with water.

‘She is grounded. That’s for sure.’

Lara was only sixteen. His sweet pride and joy. She had been through a lot in her young life, a life Clark could only sympathise and try his best to be a good father. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, so he put on the kettle, dragged on a pair of jeans and sat outside on the porch. He gazed out at the road and fields consumed by the growing frost.

The icy air cooled down his body. His nipples grew taunt. The bright white moonlight beamed across the strong lines of his features, his years of hard labour and history in the maps of his crow feet and smile lines. His voluminous black hair with hints of silver through it fell to his shoulders, he would need to start tying it back or cut it short again. His thick pink lips pursed just sitting above his jawline, he was like a blade, sharp and strong.

His veins ran with the blood of two different worlds...but there was a certainty that he would never be able to return to one.

With his strong desire for companionship, he knew himself well. Though he controlled it, there were times when he needed the physical touch of a woman. He often met with Diana Prince, a widowed woman who lived in Cottonwood Falls. Theirs was a purely physical arrangement, with neither interested in marriage. Clark tried to keep their visits infrequent, aware that her gossiping neighbours would be shocked to know she was seeing a man in the middle of the night...a man who had a criminal record, a dark past.

The next day was going to be a Saturday. He would carry out the planned chores and duties on the farm. The upkeep was falling apart and he desperately needed to fix the barn roof hole and retighten the fences and cut the firewood. And in the evening he would ride his truck out to Cotton falls, park and walk the rest of the way to Ms Princes house and extinguish all the fiery rage of his loins inside of her.

He didn’t like riding his truck on the icy roads. He chewed his lips as he glanced down at his erection rising again in his jeans. He needed a woman. God help him.

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

YOU

You had your own chores and plans for the Saturday. In particular there was one plan on your list you were desperate to investigate and find a resolution.

Miss Lara Kent

The girl had left highschool prematurely three months ago, a month before you had arrived to take over the role as teacher after Ms Rampling died at the age of eighty four. You had deep shoes to fill. Smallville had quite literally a small school it would seem ranging from kindergarten all the way to year twelve with only four hundred students in total.

Not a single student or teacher had mentioned her name, it was by sheer luck you’d come across her school records. It was rather bizarre that such a successful student to drop out. A straight A student. Nothing in the file indicated a decent reason to why she had left school but it had been approved none the less....the burning passion of your life work was lit a flame.

“Oh Lara?...Lara...oh...Kent...that farmers kid...yea, best be left alone,” said Miss Lana Lang, the eighth grade teacher.

How could you though? Clearly this girls future was in jeopardy if she just left it so suddenly. You needed to understand what was the choice behind this important decision. You recalled being sixteen and feeling so ready for the world only to find even yourself so unprepared when you moved out of home.

You stood in the kitchen, stirring a cup of tea as you stared out your window up at the lonely moon, naked of the wreaths of stars...how could you sleep when this poor girl was making such a bad life choice?...you couldn’t imagine what her parents were thinking.

The cold wind was spreading white fog and frost against the window panels.

You were sure it would probably snow the first day of November at this rate. You rubbed your eyes and shivered. You would need to hire a handy man to fix the heater soon or else you’d freeze to death. It was never so cold in Metropolis city where you were originally from.

You’d moved here only after a month. You felt it was a sign of luck. You were struggling to find another teaching job while juggling to afford your rent....and then one-day you received a call on the phone. Out of some miracle or curse you had a great-great aunt Gwendolyn-Lee and she had a fat inheritance and a whole house left for you, her only surviving heir.

Oh and a ginger cat named Oz. With all the movie posters you had to assume your great aunts favourite film and book was none other than the Wizard of Oz.

He sat stop the old floral print arm chair, staring out the window. He turned his head and meowed wistfully. He kept to the floor and trotted over to you, threading his body around your ankles.

You sighed, “I know Ozzie, your poor bean toes must be getting cold like mine, I might need to see if there’s a pet store in this tiny town. See if they have socks for kitties.”

His meowing reply was lighter as if he had approved of your comment. You crouched to his level and ran your fingers along his orange stripe spine. It hadn’t taken him long to warm up to you. At first, he refused to leave the space beneath the bed in the master bedroom. You wondered how he had survived so long after Gwendolyn passed. You didn’t know who was feeding him. He mewled softly as you began getting dressed.

Despite the wonderful fortune you’d gained, tragedy struck when the moving van forgot to pick up the box with all your clothes.

So naturally you borrowed your dead great aunts hand made, outdated dresses. You’d never met the woman and yet the genetics were clear to be positive considering how you were both the same size.

You went with the white shirtwaist dress with lilac astor flowers embroidered along the edge and collar. You would’ve gone out to the town and bought a new wardrobe...if the shops sold anything that wasn’t still the same style from 1970.

Who were you even trying to impress, yourself? You sighed looking at the mirror. You reached for your flat shoes. ‘No one.’ Your hands ran down the front of your dress. ‘What type of man wants a woman that dresses like a grandma?’ you rolled your eyes.

You scratched Oz behind the ear, his little golden bell jingled away as he kept up onto the mattress and stretched his lithe body.

“I guess you’re the only man in my life to impress Ozzie,” you giggled as he flopped on his side and purred, snuggling his cheek on the patchwork quilt to take a fat cat nap.

Fetching the wool cardigan and car keys off the hook you grabbed the school record file and handbag.

Outside your car waited. You knew you’d have to drive carefully along the road. You prayed the address on Lara’s record was correct.

You pulled out of your driveway and watched as the small town buildings became trees and dead orange leaves. Halloween was just around the corner. Everyone was setting up their decorations, you felt strangely naked with such a bare house. It was on your shopping list to buy candies for the kids in the neighbourhood. You didn’t feel obligated to decorate or participate when you lived in your shitty city unit. But now you lived among families and country locals.

Even though the farm lands were carpeted in brown, red and orange leaves, you were looking forward to the gossip that come spring the lands would be blooming with green lush grass and waves of flowers and forests of apple trees with rushing blue creeks soaring through the valley. Smallville wasn’t very small in the proportion of its farming lands.

As you peered over to look at the map sitting on your passenger seat, you struggled to clearly see the street names.

Above the sound of your engine, you heard the sound of a moo before glancing up back over your hood. A large beast, a black bull the size of a fridge was haphazardly trotting across the road in line of your cat. You slammed the butt of your palm against the car horn before you hit the breaks hard and instant lost control on the loose dirt road. Spinning out, you uttered a prayer the big bull would move in time. You squealed as the tires burned across the trail and fields you crashed against flying dirt smoke and dry leafy grass up. Your body was lunged slightly forward before the car fully stopped and your ass hit the seat hard. You were finally caught in a man dug gutter, the cars nose diving down and the boot hanging up half on the road.

Your chest had been strangled by the seat belt when the loud bang and buff of white slammed up into your face, knocking your head back against your car seat.

Your mouth filled with blood and your face felt like it had been soccer punched. You managed to move your face to the side, sobbing at the feeling of your throbbing nose. Eyes closed in a mixture of fear and disbelief, you felt like you could barely breath, spitting up blood and crying in pain. You were gasping for air, your lungs stung like a million cuts.

You didn’t register the sound of a man’s voice asking if you were alright, nor how he flung open your door and used a pocket blade to slice through your seat belt.

The car hood was clouded in white, billowing out steam like the smoke of a Pompeii volcano.

What you do remember about your saviour was how he had the most bluest eyes that reminded you of the cleanest ponds. His hair was jet black like a crow. You stared up at those features when he curled his arm under your knees and behind your back and shoulders and hauled you out.

Your guardian angel...or the grim reaper carried you away from destruction as your head grew heavy and your eyes rolled like heavy marbles to the back of your skull.

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

CLARK

He was riding along and moving his cattle from his main property over to the Nell Potter’s who had lease out her land to him for grazing before all the frost took the sustaining grass. He had watched your car, assuming that a group of cattle with legal crossing signage would have you slowing down....but your speed never changed until Chief was last in line and taking his time to walk across the path.

By some miracle you’d managed to miss the bull but only to twist out of control and crash into the edge of his corn crop before the wheel took you back up and the car slammed into the road gully.

He leaped from his saddle, yelling out to the stranger in the car as he did. He tore the car door open, slamming the bags, struggling to click out your seat belt before succumbing to using his tool knife in his pocket to cut your trapped, weak body out. You were awake, your eyes droopy, but you weren’t responding to his questions.

“What’s your name?” no answer. He tore out the keys from the car, turning the damn thing off before it had the chance to explode or catch fire.

You weren’t answering.

“You alright darlin?”

He swore loudly, shuffling your body from one arm to the other, carrying you back hurriedly down to his house. He managed to whistle his horse back over. It had to be said you were lucky he managed to get off his horse in time before you suffocated against the airbag.

He trusted his cows to stay in the Nell property, grazing on the new grass, too stupid to leave the paddock back onto the road.

Chief had run into that yard the moment your horn blared.

Clark was a strong man yet that did little to change his worries. Racing up the steps of his porch, he kicked open his front door and planted you with care along his sofa lounge.

Clark stared at you with disbelief. How could anyone be out in the bitter cold so poorly dressed? How had you managed to not slow down for such a huge bull? He wondered how you’d almost hit the massive beast instead of slowing down and breaking in time. Thank god the car had swivelled on ice for a quick turn or else he would have a dead Kerry Bull and a female corpse he’d have to talk to the police about, again.

But his anger at your careless driving was eclipsed by his grand concern. You seemed so vulnerable; underdressed and out in the middle of the countryside, if your car flipped Jwho but him or Lara would be here to come save you?

Who the hell were you?

The moment he asked himself however, a sense of recognition flooded him as it became clear who you were. There was no mistaking that you were the new schoolteacher he’d heard so much about in the farm tool supply barn store. With the way you were dressed, it was like staring back at a significantly younger, prettier version of Ms Gwendowlyn-Lee.

That old bag died just around the same time as Ms Rampling died too. And it was to be well known the pair were...special roommates for a time in their youth, but that was just gossip and talk.

He snorted softly. Of course you were hers to replace not one But two ancient Smallville women.

Nonetheless you were severely underdressed for the climate. He hastily moved to the kitchen sink and began running a pot of hot water for you. He paused as he thumbed your front buttons. Your dress was soaked in your own blood. Did you know his history? What if you came to full awakening and saw him looking over your chest and touching that spot...would you start screaming that vile word too?

He huffed annoyed, shaking his head. He got up and returned to the warm water pot. If you didn’t wake up in the next ten minutes, he’d throw you into his truck and speed to the local hospital. Even if it meant he might risk spending a night in jail. God knows the average folk never listened to reason or logic – always jumping to conclusions.

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

YOU

It felt like a split second, cut up into spliced moments. You in the car. The bull. The devilishly handsome guardian angel and then waking up on a full purple lounge.

Your eyes fluttered wide open. Your head felt like it computer weighed like a bowling ball. The sensation of nausea took hold of you as you tried sitting up. You decided to give in to your body and laid back down. The room was slightly rocking. You shut your eyes again and sighed before slowly opening them, focusing on breathing and looking around the room.

The room was covered in similar decor as the stuff at your aunt’s home. Old ornamental decorations and wallpaper from the 70s. The dated furniture and lack of television in the living room except there was a and desk in the corner.

Beside you on the coffee table was a folded out box filled with first aid kit items. Bandages, syringes, gauze and disinfection creams.

You were startled to rise a little as the sound of loud foot steps entered the room. An enormous man held a bowl of warm water and a cloth. His face was stern while his brows lifted.

“Oh fuck, he’s huge,” you thought, watching how his hard face twitched in a smirk that appeared and disappeared in a blink. You realised with horror you’d murmured that thought aloud.

He got onto his knees beside you, touching your shoulder lightly and softly guided you back down onto the soft cushions. He wet the towel and gently dabbed at a spot on your forehead. You hissed. It stung. You winced and jerked back, quickly apologising.

“Care to share why you were tryin’ to kill my prize Kerry, Miss?” you heard him mutter. Your mouth dropped at hearing how deep, rich and sensual his voice was. You never had heard such a pronoun southern drawl sound so seductive.

He washed the dirt front your face lightly, he let he droplets wash away the marks.

You warmed, feeling butterflies in your belly as you tried to mentally find your bearings, “Wh-what? Could you repeat that sir?”

His brows lifted again, this time a firm frown was on his face, “Miss, you were in an automobile accident, are your brakes broken or are you just a bad driver?”

That’s when the black bull came back to your mind once more. You swallowed, your mouth was dry.

“I didn’t-,” you stammered and shook your head, “I wasn’t trying to hit it.”

He snorted with a hint of disbelief.

You curled in your lips, your eyes skated over the home again. You were almost at the Kent property according to the map address. You would’ve gotten there if it wasn’t for his dumb stupid bull.

You licked your bottom lip timidly, “I’m Y/N Y/F/N, I’m a schooltea-.”

“I know,” he said sharply.

Your eyes widened, “You know?”

“I know,” he repeated. You felt a discomfort in his responses even when his voice sounded like deep warm honey over buttered toast. Maybe his toast was burnt black in way.

You lightly nibbled your bottom lip and dared to ask, “Are...are you Mr. Kent? Sir?”

His ocean blue eyes darkened to the pitch of the night sky, his rosy lips peeled back, showing his white teeth in a tight grimace, “I’m Clark Kent.”

Oh.

You cleared your throat, “You’re Clark Kent?”

“I’m Clark Kent,” he repeated, again.

Granting him a small tight smile you then asked, “So you’re a farmer?”

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

CLARK

When you spoke so easily to him, it caught him off guard. Had no one warned you about him? Had the rumours not gotten to your darling ears? When you raised your brows in that inquisitive manner, it only added fuel to his frustration.

“Yeah, dairy and maize,” he grunted.

The delicate curves of your face and those sweet eyes had a curious effect on him; it set his teeth on edge. He was not going to hurt you, but he could if he wanted. That primness about you irritated him to no end. His first instinct – to shock you out of your prudishness – scare you into fearing him, make you see the monster everyone but his daughter called him. Your beautiful eyes were so innocent; it was frustrating that you couldn’t see how vulnerable of a situation you were in. There was something so twisted in his mind that even he was surprised by the urge to protect you from himself.

He tore open a packet of povidone-iodine and cupped your cheek and held the curve of your jaw, “Best hold still,” he warned, his eyes bore into yours, “This goin’ sting now.”

He pinched the wipe and ran it over your forehead. Clark had been focused on cleaning the cut but his gaze flickered up at the pitched whine you made, right into your wide teary eyes. The whimper that came from your lips had the air sucking out of his lungs. What a delicious noise. Your eyes right then were his new favourite colour, he decided. Your delectable lips had turned into an ungodly knot as they quivered in pain. And they were just inches away from his and the unfortunate desire to kiss them flashed in his mind.

He ran a thumb over one of your wet cheeks,

He wondered if your skin was just as soft and sensitive all over...your breasts, your belly, your thighs...the petals between your legs. Your body trembled under him. And the brief thought of making you tremble naked made his loins stir beneath his jeans. Holy fuck.

You’d just met him and made yourself a nuisance but the thought of kissing you sent an overwhelming surge of desire through his body. It was like an electric shock to his entire system. As he drew nearer, he noticed that you smelled exquisite. Your scent was tantalizing and all he could think of was how much he wanted to taste it. The urge to kiss you was nearly unbearable. But you would probably squeal and run out the door if he lifted your dress the way he wanted to and buried his face against your silky thighs to inhale the honey of your cunt.

He launched fast up onto his feet and walked away.

“I ugh, I’m makin’ coffee,” He marched back to the kitchen and turned on the pot for some coffee. No...he needed whiskey. Fucking damn it Lara.

He splashed cold water from the sink into his face. What the fuck was wrong with him.

♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞♞

You

You sat in quiet solitude as he took his time making coffee.

After five minutes of staring up at the garden wallpaper on the ceiling, you heard his foot steps return back to the living room.

You decided that Clark Kent was in fact not a social person and holding a conversation would deem a challenge. But you were stubborn. You came here for a reason and his lack of small talk would not dissuade your mission. In fact, it gave you the opportunity to study his character.

He sipped his cup and cleaned up some more scratches on your face. Very carefully he began peeling band aids apart and applying them to your face. You smiled at some still in the first aid kit. They were children’s bandaids, yellow and printed with ducklings, cute and probably many years old. You couldn’t imagine a sixteen year old girl being caught dead wearing duckling bandaids.

You had hoped to compare him to Lara and perhaps even her mother to see why and what behaviour the girl held. When he leant over you, you studied his expression, hoping to find some clue as to his thoughts. But his face was unreadable; you couldn’t discern a single emotion within his eyes. Without even the slightest word, he pinched your embroidered collar to get your attention.

You licked your lips, unaware of how your tongue movement had captured his attention. You wanted to say something, but were at a loss for words. His physical proximity had utterly paralysed your thought processes. You felt completely overwhelmed by the sensation of his presence and the sight of his face. You were struggling to find a thought or a word that could accurately describe how much he stirred your senses.

He’s so big...God...help me.

You should have maintained your composure and remembered why you had come here, instead of acting like a foolish girl because an attractive man was standing too close to you. You were frustrated with yourself for allowing yourself to be so swept away by his good looks, rough appearance, and masculine presence. You tried to remind yourself that his physicality wasn’t the point of your presence here but it failed to have any impact. Your body simply reacted with desire and longing to the nearness of his person.

You cleared your throat for the thousandth time to ask, “Ah… I have come to speak with Lara Kent, if I may?” as if you hadn’t just crashed your car and almost killed one of his cattle.

You cast your eyes over to the man in front of you. His face seemed expressionless as he stared back at you, but there was something in his eyes – a hint of suspicion, scepticism. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.

“Lara ain’t here. She’s doin’ her chores out in the paddocks. Probably got her walkman on a higher volume, she didn’t hear your car destroying some of the crop or else she’d have been here by your side like you were some helpless duckling.”

A tiny smile came onto his face at those last few words before it melt back into his set frown.

“I see....sorry about the...corn,” You hummed sheepishly, “And...when might she return inside?”

He sighed, scratching lightly at the corner of his brow, he glanced over across the room at a grandfather clock beside the fireplace, “She should be back any time now....”

You looked at him disbelievingly, your eyes locked on his. You couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more to this man than just being a farmer. “Are you Lara’s father?” you finally asked.

“Yes,” he replied in a clipped yet measured tone.

“And where is her mother?”

There was no denying he was a man of few words, and yet somehow, he managed to convey much more than what was spoken.

His eyes shifted to the fireplace. You followed his gaze. There was a beautiful enclosed vase on the mantle...wait, no-

“Dead.”

-an urn.

Something about that flat, solitary word jolted you, a mix of surprise and discomfort. Yet alongside the shock, there was also a faint sense of relief. Slowly you sat up and with a quick glance away, you stared out the window just beside the sofa. You focused your eyes on the dead and disfigured front garden, dotted with weeds and looking more like a barren wasteland than a place of joy and life.

Clark began packing up the first aid kit. He left to put it away.

Further out you could see your car, the front bumper crushed and totally ruined. Shit. You’d be doing a lot more walking and catching the bus.

When he returned, in his hand was a cup of water and a small bucket.

“It’s salt water, to clean your mouth of the blood.”

You gratefully accepted the water, swishing the foul liquid in your mouth. You spit into the bucket. There was still a stillness in the air that felt like a heavy weight, weighing on you as you breathed in the cool air. You faced him again, hands in your lap now, touching your feet to his floor.

You dared to ask, “And how did you feel about Lara quitting school?”

He shrugged in a nonchalant manner, “It was her choice.”

He was turning to go back to the kitchen.

A palpable and intense feeling of indignation and exasperation mingled together, acting as a powerful driving force, you got to your feet and started to follow him, “But she’s only sixteen! She’s just a young girl—”

You managed to follow him into his kitchen, old vinyl flooring and wooden benches with a deep copper sink. He slammed the bucket and cup into the sink and spun on his heel.

“She’s my daughter,” Clark interrupted, holding his finger up, “and she can read, write, practices arithmetic better than anyone I know in this hick-town. My Lara also knows everythin’ there is to know about livestock and runnin’ a dairy farm.”

The man’s voice held a hint of pride, though even that couldn’t mask the hint of resentment that still showed through. “This is my land, my dairy farm, my house,” he continued. “One day it will all belong to her. She decided what to do with her life, and she decided to harvest and produce milk to the entire county.”

Clark was blushing, hints of his frustration were spitting out. He wasn’t fond of sharing his or his child’s life story, considering all the prejudice they faced all these years. Except, there was something about you, this huffy, and prissy little teacher that made him answer.

You seemed oblivious to the rumours about his past; or else why would you be mouthing off so brazenly without bringing it up... you evidently knew nothing about what made him who he truly was, about the impact of his name on the town of Smallville. You didn’t know how often it was people turned away and ignored him just to avoid associating with him...you didn’t know how much it affected Lara too.

He swallowed loudly, “Now, all that bein’ said, she chose to leave that sorry excuse of a school,” he tongued his inner cheek, trying his best not to curse. He groaned, his knuckles turned white as he gripped his own flannel. It was like white smoke was pouring from his ears and shooting out his nose as he forced himself to take deep breaths.

“And, who the fu-...who are you or I to tell her what she can or can not do?” He licked his teeth, “I’d love to see your smart ass out in the dairy shed and see how much you mess it up, I’ll wager it’s like your driving.”

You bravely jerked your chin up with your hands coming to sit on your hips.

Oh Fuck, he wanted to kiss you

And unbeknownst to him, you would’ve let him. Something about how much he was pissing you off and getting heated made you excited, scared...aroused. Facing the beast in the car was not as scary as facing this beast on your feet.

“I’d like to talk to her anyway,” You said stubbornly.

His brows connected, he licked the bottom of his lip, glancing down at yours, “That’s up to Lara. She might not want to talk to you. Especially if you’re here to ask her to return to that school.”

He leant away from you briefly to turn the coffee pot on to boil.

The hands on your hips cross over your chest, You scoffed, “Right, then you won’t even try to encourage her to graduate from the highschool then?”

That was it. He paused. He smirked, he chuckled mockingly and shook his head at you, “Nope.”

“Why not?” Your foot almost stamped, “She’s a bright girl, she should at least have the option of going to college!”

Clark stepped closer, towering over you, his nose nearly touching yours as you glared up at those dark blue eyes, “You listen here,” the air from his nose was hot against your face, “She’s sixteen, don’t you understand what that means ‘round these parts?” He snorted rolling his eyes, “Hell, how can you? You’re just some uppity, conceited, self-centered upstart.” He then scoffed. “She’s not welcome in that school. That was made very clear. When she wasn’t being neglected she was being bullied. Why the fuck would she want to go back?”

You felt a chill run down your spine as he edged closer, his words sharp and venomous. You bared your teeth in a grimace, frightened by his aggressive manner. You weren’t used to men invading your personal space, shouting curses in your face. As a young girl, boys had turned a blind eye to the shy, bookish girl. Now, as a grown woman, men still showed scarce interest in you.

You were utterly unwavering in your beliefs about education and refused to let him frighten you into submission. Bigger people often used their size to intimidate smaller ones, oftentimes not even realizing the effects of their actions. However, you weren’t going to bow down simply because he was more robust than you. Your beliefs were far too important to sacrifice for someone as boorish as him.

“She was at the top of her class given her KAP results, top in the five percent in Kansas for girls in her age group.” you said briskly. “If Lara could beat that top, think of what she could accomplish with help! She could get a scholarship, become something greater than a dairy farmer, or is having a doctor for a daughter beneath a redneck like you?”

He fluttered his eyes shut. There it was. That disdain he was used to. Little did you know...he was fighting his arousal his erection and the urge to put you on your hands and knees on that kitchen floor. If you wanted to call him a redneck, he’d fuck you like one...dirty and unprotected.

The silence was beyond pregnant until his throat bobbed, “Like I said, it’s up to Lara.”

The scent of freshly-brewed coffee filled the kitchen, but neither of you spoke as the minutes ticked by and the silence stretched on. He backed away and poured two cups of coffee. He poured fresh milk into the cups, real cow cream. He leaned against the cupboards and watched you sip from your porcelain mug, taking in the delicate sight. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, thinking back on what you’d just called him after he saved you from your car.

Redneck...

How could he be so kind in the face of your rudeness?

“Sorry...I didn’t means to call you a redneck...”

He smiled, this time it was filled with cheek, “Oh, yes you did...but I ain’t no soft Lily. Trust me, I’ve been called worse. You think I can’t handle when some hoity toity teacher goes an calls me a redneck?”

You returned the smile shyly. Looking down at your chest, you pinched the fabric. The front was blazing bright red.

He stepped closer and carefully reached out, pinching your shirt, he said with a calm and steady tone, “Yea that’ll probably stain without a good soak.”

You pinched your nose, “It was my aunt’s, I think it’s vintage.”

Clark set his cup aside and jerked his head to the side.

“I reckon I got something for you to wear. You can keep it and soak the dress in the laundry. Lara can talk to you about this mess and I’ll scrub the blood out.”

For a man so stubbornly spoken, he had been remarkably hospitable to you.

As you glanced up at him, the intensity of his dark blue eyes caught your attention. Something about his gaze made you feel unsure of yourself, your heart racing and a slight feeling of unease growing within you. It was as if he were peering directly at your breasts with a hungry look in his eyes. The thought made you feel warm with embarrassment and your breath caught slightly in your throat.

“I think some of my wife’s old clothes will fit you,” he said letting go of your shirt.

His dead wife? Oh god...

“Oh, I don’t need any clothes. I mean, what I have on is perfectly—”

“Stained,” he interrupted. “You really want to be going back to town looking like that? People might think I’ve gone and bashed you....”

You looked down.

“or raped you.”

Your eyes snapped back up. You didn’t know why he jumped to such a salaciously coarse word.

He murmured, “Come with me, then.”

You followed him down through the hallway of his farm house.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“To the bedroom.”

You stopped, blinking at him, he turned to face you with a bitter smile twisted his mouth.

“Don’t worry,” he said crudely. “It’s Saturday. I only rape on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

Your eyes blinked again.

“What’s wrong with Saturdays?” those words slid past your lips without any warning, leaving you dumbstruck when you realized what you’d done. You clapped your hands over your face, mortified that you’d accidentally insinuated the possibility of him committing such a heinous act and not just that but almost questioned his intentions towards you in that department. Heat surged into your cheeks as a flood of embarrassment washed over you. Your brain must have short-circuited; there was no other explanation for the idiocy.

Clark was taken aback by your words, the stunned expression on your face making it clear that you had no intention to say them. It had been ages since he’d seen anyone look so horrified, and it took him a moment to realize that you were acutely embarrassed. You were certainly something of a prude, he concluded, with your dowdy appearance and old-maidish manner. So much so that your slip of the tongue was probably the biggest entertainment he’d had in a while. He couldn’t help but grin as his irritation softened again. Yes, this was definitely a highlight for him.

“Not a damn thing Miss Y/L/N,” he chuckled.

You drew yourself up to your full height, your lips firmly pressed together in a rigid expression. “Please do not make fun of me, Mr Kent,” you stated clearly, though it took a great deal of effort to keep your tone even. His sarcastic comment only served to salt the wound you already knew existed. You knew you fell short in the seductive department, but you didn’t need sarcastic reminders to confirm it.

Clark’s straight black brows drew together over his strong nose, “Make fun of you? What? How?”

You sulked sourly, “I am fully aware of how I look. I know I am not the most stunning woman. But surely...” you paused, your eyes shut, “Am I that ugly to look at?”

The choking noise was loud. He was rather gobsmacked. Did you really just say that to him?

His heart was still pounding from when she had whimpered, a lingering throbbing in his loins reminded him that his reaction hadn’t completely subsided. He chuckled bitterly, the sound devoid of humour, his mind playing over again and again what had happened between them. Why not spice up your life a little more?

“Now, don’t play this game with me Missy,” he said

But the way you avoided his eyes.

“Shit. You’re serious? Come on now girl, you gotta know. You damn well know you’re a wet dream...you’re a real head turner. Make men like me all hot and bothered.”

“Hot and bothered, by what?” she asked blankly. It was impossible. She had never made a man… aroused a man in her life.

Heat had been simmering just beneath the surface for too long, and the irritation he felt in the presence of this prim woman was like a spark to a fuse. His iron control had kept him in check when dealing with the townspeople, but something about her, this prim woman, got under his skin. Frustration filled him to the point that he thought he might explode, the tension and desire rising to a pitch that was almost unbearable.

His intentions had originally been to stay far away from you, but now he found himself pulled close by a force he could not resist. Hands gripping your waist, he pulled you closer until you were pressed against him. His mouth came down on yours, covering it in a hard kiss. “Maybe you need a to be shown,” he murmured, his words coming out in deep and breathless. It made the moment even more intense, his desire for you growing with each passing second. He couldn’t keep himself from kissing you again, his lips exploring yours in a passionate, urgent way that left you feeling completely powerless.

You froze as he gently and passionately moved his lips over yours. You couldn’t take your eyes off his long, thick eyelashes, how they brushed your skin. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you firmly against his muscled body, causing you to let out a deep gasp.

As soon as your lips opened, he took the opportunity to probe inside with his tongue as if he couldn’t get enough. You trembled, feeling a strange heat deep inside, growing more and more intense. The pleasure became so strong and powerful that it frightened you, not knowing where this might lead. If only you’d known to buy some lingerie this morning before you left to the Kent property....

There was something powerful about the way his lips felt, their firmness bringing you to a state of ecstasy. You could taste his heady flavor, and his tongue was caressing yours with an intensity that invited you to play. But beyond this physical sensation, there was a warm and musky scent drifting from his body. Your breasts pressed up against the taut muscles of his torso, causing the tips of your nipples to tingle in an exciting yet embarrassing manner.

You opened your eyes in sharp disappointment when he pulled away from you. But his intense black gaze was unwavering, like he wasn’t finished with you yet. “Come on girl, kiss me back yes?” he breathlessly pleaded, his tone suggesting he was far from satisfied.

“I don’t know how,” You confessed, still bewildered to what he had just done to you...and you enjoying it.

His eyes fluttered, “Here, I’ll teach you,” his nose nuzzled yours.

He pressed his lips against yours again, and this time you parted your mouth to accept his education. He explored your mouth and demonstrated a pressured patterned that you began mimicking and returning to him. His kisses this became further demanding, filled with panting.

You suddenly felt a frightening excitement explode through your body, growing beyond simple pleasure and transforming into a ravenous hunger. The sensations coursing through you were no longer merely pleasant but overpowering, your heart racing wildly as it hammered against your ribs. The heat within you was unbearable, an intense blaze spreading through you, leaving you panting and aching for more.

Looking into his eyes, you realized that he had felt the same burning desire that was overtaking you now. You were stunned by the revelation, and it made you feel even hotter. You uttered a soft, unconscious sound as you moved closer to his body, unable to control the sensations he had unleashed inside of you. The yearning was unbearable, and you wanted more of him, his experienced touches making the sensations overwhelming and irresistible.

You had never believed it could be like this, such an intense and overwhelming desire. You had been told that some men could be crude and cruel, but those warnings had never prepared you for the intense sensation of burning desire. You had always made the sensible choice to avoid flirting or attempting to attract a boyfriend, yet, here you were, wanting a man to do those very things to you.

The men you had encountered during your time at college and in the workplace had appeared to be normal, not lecherous sex fiends. You felt comfortable around men, and even considered a few of them to be good friends. But you did not consider yourself attractive, or at least, not enough to attract the opposite sex’s attention.

Men had never scrambled to get dates with you or even managed to acquire your phone number. As a result, you hadn’t been exposed to the intense sensations of a man’s embrace and touches, nor the throbbing sensation of his manhood pressing against your thighs. You hadn’t realized how much more you needed, the feeling of his hands roaming your body awakening a hungry desire that grew within you with every touch.

You instinctively locked your arms around his neck and moved your body against his, feeling the waves of frustration and desire increasing within you. The desire was a blaze consuming your body, empty and aching, hungry for more. The new sensations were a flood, your mind overwhelmed by the feeling of your nerves being assaulted. You didn’t know how to control it, the tidal wave of sensation growing with each movement made against him.

Clark jerked his head back, his teeth locked as he relentlessly brought himself back under control. Black fire burned in his eyes as he looked down at you. His kisses had made your soft lips swollen. Your eyes were heavy-lidded as you opened them and slowly met his gaze.

The desire was plain on your face, a look that suggested he had done more than kiss you. You already looked dishevelled, as if he had taken you in his arms and claimed you. In his mind, he had. He wondered how pretty you would look with a ball gag between your teeth. Despite your delicate appearance, you had moved against him with a voracious hunger, your body moving and seeking more.

He knew with the state of your mind, he could take you to bed right now. You were desperate for him, hot past the point of reason. And yet...he decided that it would be best if he would wait for you to make the conscious decision to be with him. Your inexperience was clear, and he’d even had to teach you how to kiss. The thought was suddenly cut off when he realized just how inexperienced you were. You were a virgin, and it was not fair for him to take that without your full consent.

The notion left him dumbfounded. It didn’t seem possible that you could be so innocent, yet there you were, gazing up at him with eyes that were both innocent and full of desire. Your body was pressed tightly to his, your arms locked around his neck, and your legs slightly opened to let him nestle against you. You were waiting for the next move, as you did not know what else to do. Before him you had never even been kissed. No man had touched your soft breasts or your tender nipples. No man had ever shared his love with you.

He swallowed the rock in his throat that threatened to choke him, his eyes still locked with yours. “Alrighty now, missy, that almost took a dangerous turn.”

You jerked away a little, your eyes fluttered, “oh, really?...”

Slowly, because he didn’t want to drop you, feeling how much your knees might collapse under you, he let you slide down to find your feet. Your sweetness would be the death of him...figuratively and literally if you tried to accuse him of something wayward. He was a fiend, a criminal, a man charged with possibly one of the worst crimes known to man. And you were the new miss innocent school teacher coming to talk to him about Lara only for it to almost become a shit show of either moans or wailing squeals.

You should never have come her. The people of Smallville had a knack for gossiping. Lord knows you’d find out the truth eventually and then you’d never want to associate with him again...

So he released you, despite the overwhelming desire to drag you onto his bed and educate you to all there was to pleasuring a man and yourself. Still wrapped around him like a human scarf were your soft arms. Your fingers had tangled up into his dark raven mane. You almost appeared unable to let him go, drunk on new founded lust. He reached up to take your hands and move your arms away from his body entirely.

The softest sound of disappointment left your wet lips...was he rejecting you now? Had you done something wrong...

Your eyes looked up at him in a desperate plea to continue...but his eyes were staring away and over your shoulder.

“I guess I’ll come back later then?” Came a new, young and feminine voice interrupting your blood rushing thoughts.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

#Spotify

33 notes · View notes

ice-cream-writes-stuff · 2 years

Text

Superman/Clark Kent x Janitor Reader Blurb

"I should if looked over those documents more thoroughly.." The rookie journalist of the daily planet said to himself. The dark halls of the building quiet and not a soul in sight. His blue eyes narrow once he saw his desk further in the darkness.

Picking it up, he re-reads over his notes with little light from the lights outside.

"Sir, you alright?"

"..!" Gasping in suprise, he dropped his notepad. Where..!

"Here you go."

Looking down, he saw someone pick up his book. Thier hat obscuring his face to them from the shadows of the night.

Dusting it off, they stand up and show him the notepad. Tilting their head to the side, most likely inspecting Clark.

"Sir..!"

Snapping out of his thoughts, the young Kent takes the item. Carefully grasping it as he shoots a meek look.

"S-sorry, I had to review some notes-" Clark explains, not really sure if he was meeting your eyes or not.

Was his powers not working today? He didn't even here your footsteps, nor-.

"It's alright, just be careful. I just waxed this floor. Do you need anything else, sir?"

"Ah, uhm, call me Clark please."

You nod your head, your plain expressions becoming soft. "Clark. You be careful, it's not wise to come into the building after hours. We don't you to be getting into a accident and slip on the floor."

"We?"

"Me and you." You huff with a kind tone. Patting his shoulder, easily push him towards the elevator.

Stopping once you noticed the vending machines.

"Juice? Water? Or you a soda person?" You ask him.

Sputtering at your actions, Clark felt unsure of everything that was happening around him as you type in whatever you choose and the same for him as the two of you stood next to each other in the elevator.

"You know, it's good to have a guard up." You drawl out absent-mindedly. Sipping from your can of fresh soda.

"Why..?"

"Because, it gives you character." You responded cheerily, sipping more of your soda as Clark stared at the can.

His gripping it to harshly as it exploded and all the liquid had flew all over the elevator walls.

"Ah."

You say with widen eyes, easily pulling off your work jacket as you wrap it around Clark's shoulders. The syrupy soda dripping onto the floor as you made it to the bottom floor.

[Inspired by the new Superman show and old one. I couldn't help it!]

#super man #superman x reader #yandere superman #superhero #superman #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #lois lane #journalists x reader #yandere dc #dc x reader #my adventures with superman #dc #janitor #y/n #dc x y/n #dc x you

604 notes · View notes

sobbingscripter · 1 year

Text

CLARK KENT X READER

WARNING! 18+

Minors DNI

Note: ignore the random timestamps. Please.

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

Clark Kent x reader

Tags: [smut] [spice] [nsfw] [spoicy] [loving] [hesatoplol] [normalmilk]

*******

Y/N's pen was a blur around her fingers as she waited patiently for Clark at his desk. She readjusted her pencil skirt, the colour inky when compared to her caramel flesh.

"Y/N!" He gleamed, his large frame rushing towards her before lifting her off the ground, squeezing her gently to his chest as he inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume.

"I'm so excited for our date." He whispered, putting her down and readjusting his glasses, the dark frames a contrast to his slightly sun-kissed face.

"About that..." she droned off, and she watched his face fall in slow motion, his bottom lip jutted out in disappointment.

"Raincheck?" He faked a smile, although the disappointment wasn't hidden by the faux prescription glasses he wore, nor was it hidden by the smile.

Clark was so nice. So understanding. And Y/N knew that if she didn't get her shit together, that fucking harpy Lois would swoop in and steal him. And while Y/N had no interest in fighting for a guy, it was Clark Kent. He was worth putting up a fight for.

"While I do have work, I have two hours before I need to go in and I was think that, maybe I could do you a favour."

And as those words left her mouth, she was pulled into a men's room stall, Clark form towering over her.

"You think you can win me over with sex in unconventional settings?" He breathed, his lips lowered to her ear and she pursed her lips, the action already giving her answer.

"Well, you're right," He spoke, removing his glasses and setting them on the water, not even moving from where Y/N stood, caged between him and the door, "I'm always up for a good," he paused, his lips lowering down to her neck, where he placed messy kisses, "sloppy," he dragged his lips back up to her ear, "fuck."

She inhaled sharply as Clark's lips crashed onto hers, his one hand placed on the small of her back, pressing her body to his.

His other hand rested above her head, his tongue slipping between her teeth, consent plentiful, and she moaned into the kiss, her legs already feeling weaker than before.

"Fuck..." He groaned into the kiss, his hand moving from her back and began to undo the buttons of her black, silken shirt. Slowly, he pried the material apart and let out a shiver of a breath, feeling himself strain against his dress pants.

"You fucking minx."

He hoisted her up with ease, and quickly, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her hosiery making it difficult but not impossible.

Lifting her higher, Clark's lips traveled down her torso.

Starting at the supple flesh of her jugular, pressing kisses to each of her pulses, feeling the throb beneath his lips before moving lower. His lips drew patterns on her collarbone, each side satisfied before he joined them both with a soft press to the delicate 'v' between them.

Trailing down her sternum, Clark's cerulean pools lifted to survey Y/N's face, which burned red with anticipation.

Lowering her down, Y/N stood on her wobbly legs before she took her spot, leaning against the stall door and waited for his next move.

"I could be mean," he hummed, "and rip that pencil skirt, but lucky for you... I'm feeling nice," he smiled, dimples deep in those cheeks as he undid the zips at her sides and proceeded to roll her skirt up until above her hips.

Kneeling, Clark's lips curled into a shit eating grin and he moved his face closer to Y/N's thighs.

"Kent, what are you doing?" She whispered, her bottom lip between her teeth as Clark's hands rubbed her thighs, before shaking them, watching the jiggle with amazement.

"Nothing." He lied, ripping the hosiery as easy as it was a piece of paper.

"You son of a Kry- fuck..." Y/N stifled her moans with the back of her hand as Clark's tongue licked the exposed flesh.

He laughed softly, a raspy chuckle before tasting her liquids through the fabric of her underwear.

"Fuck, pretty girl. Your cunt's dripping like a Louisiana rainstorm." He breathed, eyes glazed over by lust and adoration, before he licked, relentlessly at her covered cunt.

(01:34) (don't know when I started. Probably when I had a bit of self respect left. Idk maybe).

Pulling away, Clark's mouth was slightly agape as he panted.

"Now, for my real favour. A good ol' farm boy tongue fuck." He gleamed, and Y/N stared at him through half-lidded eyes.

"What makes it different from a regular tongue fuck?" She questioned, her words slightly slurred but nothing that Clark couldn't understand.

"I do it to the tempo of 'Cotton Eye Joe'." He bit back his laughter and Y/N's stomach was sucked in with silenced laughter.

Carefully, he moved her underwear out of the way, pushing it to the side as he slowly, slowly, painstakingly slow, brought his tongue to her entrance, lathered in his saliva.

She bit into her bottom lip, willing to draw blood if it doesn't cause a sound to escape her mouth.

Clark's tongue was slow at first. Gentle. He traced each part of her with such grace and patience, that even without direct stimulation, there was absolutely no way she would finish. Tenderly, he placed kisses on her mound, each trailing lower than the last before he took her into his mouth.

"Holy shit." She whispered, knees weak as Clark's tongue circled the sensitive bud of flesh, the pressure perfectly applied to the tip of his tongue. He moaned, relishing the taste of her being as his tongue curled, flicking the flesh.

He teased and taunted, licked and lapped, everything and anything he did, and twice as good as any human. Guaranteed. Except maybe Bruce Wayne.

She whimpered, eyes directed to the ceiling as his hands wrapped around as much of her thighs as he could, his fingertips digging into the flesh as he dined.

"You taste so fucking good, honeybunch." He moaned, his tongue locking her in every direction before he pulled away, a strand of saliva between them.

She took a glance at him. And this time, an actual look.

His eyes were glazed over, the blue shining deeper than she'd ever seen before, his cheeks were painted crimson and his lips were fuller, more pink than before. And his hair, perfectly tousled from her other hand running through the silky strands.

"You can sit down, baby. I won't let you fall." And hesitantly, Y/N took a seat in his splayed out palms and by God, she felt more stable than she had in her whole life.

"Now I can really say I got the whole world in my hands." He flirted, and she was about to make a chide comment, before his tongue dove into her.

"Holy fuck. Oh my, shit, Clark." She couldn't find the words to explain as his tongue caressed and darted against every nerve ending necessary.

He was fast. And familiar.

He hummed, the vibration sending shivers up her body and she felt heat gather in the put of her stomach, along with lightheadedness. But not the kind that came with a head crushing migraine, but the one that came from a brain melting orgasm.

(01:55) (well. This is who were are, isn't it? The fiend and the supplier. Hard to believe that this is how I spend my time. I used to have so much happiness. Now i write porn in dark, desolate rooms, surrounded by an air of destitution.)

She whimpered, her moans stutters as she clenched her thighs, and Clark hummed once more, the reverberations sending her over the edge. She came, a raspy moan escaping from her lips as her body shook in his hands and he pulled his tongue out of her, moving it quickly at the sensitive, pink bud that and found itself more prominent.

She inhaled deeply, her eyes shut and he sucked and nibbled at the flesh, doing anything to draw out her climax.

She panted, heavy breaths escaping her lips as she opened her eyes, watching as his head rose from between her thighs, a devious smile on his face.

"Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, Cotton eye Joe?" He sang softly and she clicked her tongue at him, a frown on her face.

"Don't sing Cotton Eyed Joe after you made me nut. Don't do that. It's weird." She whispered back, her speech a bit lagging and slurred, but once again, nothing he couldn't decipher.

"But it's funny. Now, turn around. And arch your back for me, doll." He instructed, and she gulped, getting up from his hands on shaky legs and turned around, arching her back like he instructed.

"These heels make for good use. Maybe you should wear them every time we have sex in bathroom stalls."

First, her eyes rolled, then widened, as she watched him free his absolute python of a cock.

"Clark, what if it doesn't fit?" She whispered, and he clicked his tongue, before placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"You say that every time, and every time, it fits. It's just like a puzzle piece. Yeah, it takes a bit of stuffing and a lot of saliva, or lube, but it fits. It's made to fit. Now.

Do you wanna spit in my hand or do you think you're ready to get stuffed?"

Y/N inhaled sharply, and widened her stance, ready to take him in. Her legs shook a bit as his fingers were covered in her cum, before he stuck them into her, one, then the other.

"You look so pretty like this." He cooed, before removing his fingers, and sticking them in his mouth, licking the taste from them.

Slowly, he took a gentle hold of her hips and began to rub his tip against her, each time teasing just a bit. He breathed low, the sound a guttural mewl before lowering his head to her ear.

"You know I love you and respect you, right? And you know you're my princess right?" He whispered, and Y/N nodded her head, before asking, "Yes, why?"

"Because I'm gonna fuck you like I hate your guts."

And just like that, he pushed into her, to the HYILT.

(02:17) (yes. Hilt is spelled like that intentionally. I can't believe I'm doing this to Clark. He's so wholesome. So loving. So kind. So Kansas. Buy beautiful Kansas turkeys from the people who care for their stock. Kent's Turkeys. Get stuffed.)

Y/N's legs gave out, but luckily, his legs were strong enough to hold them both up.

She inhaled deeply, feeling as her hands were held behind her back with one of Clark's hands and he used the other to turn her face to him.

"I still love you." He whispered, before pulling out almost all the way out, and then, slamming back into her.

"I love you so much." He repeated his earlier actions before placing a sloppy kiss on her lips, relishing in the warmth of her lips.

The only place he could kiss in front of his parents.

He began to pound into her, his cock reaching deeper with each thrust.

Y/N felt him deep, felt him in her core.

Her insides hugged him tighter than her pencil skirt hugged her figure and she whimpered, the sound equivalent to bell's chimes to his ears.

"Do that again. I liked it." He whispered, his voice gruff and harsh, unfamiliar to the way he normally sounded and he gripped her wrists tighter, her chest flat against the door of the stall.

His cock slid in and out of her, filling her up, then leaving her empty and she moaned, her eyes dazed and half-lidded as she took her lip between her teeth, careful to not make another sound.

"Office is empty, bub. Let me hear how much of a cockloving whore you really are."

Her eyes widened, and she nearly turned to look at him, before he pulled out completely. She watched, dumbfounded as he began to pump his cock, his fist fast, using her juices as lubrication.

"It'll take too long for me to come. And we only have a bit over half an hour." He explained, before shoving back into her.

"You're so fucking tight. Like, you're made just for me. And nobody else." He groaned, placing a kiss to the nape of her neck as he continued to pound mercilessly, cock churning Y/N's insides in the best way possible.

Her legs wobbled and shook, as she felt herself edge towards another brain melting wave of pleasure.

"Oh, you're gonna come, pretty girl? You're gonna come on my cock? All for me? That sweet cunt's only ever gonna come on this cock." He grumbled, his voice lazy and low as Y/N quivered, her voice a cry of ecstasy as she came, her walls tightening around his cock.

She felt her eyes quiver, her skeleton shake in pleasure as he kept pumping through her orgasm.

"Aw, you came like such a fucking good girl. And you're taking Kryptonian cock like a fucking champ. All 23 inches. That's not even humanly possible but it is for my good girl, isn't it?"

At this point, Y/N didn't hear what he said. It was as though she were wearing earmuffs and the only thing she could hear was the sound of skin hitting against skin, and soft pants.

"Holy fuck, I'm getting close. But you're closer." He grinned, sliding his hand down her body before vigorously (keyword: vigorously) circling her sensitive bud.

"Clark, no. Too- fuck- too sensitive. My brain..." she mewled, her voice a pathetic whimper of a woman who's organs were being moved around.

"That cute, naughty little clit of yours is begging to be touched, princess. I'm just doing what I need to."

He began to thrust sloppily, easing his way to his climax before placing soft kisses along her shoulders.

She came with a choked sob, her eyes blinded by stars and her legs too weak to even stand or attempt to stand. Her nails had dug into her palms in a poor attempt to blind herself from the pleasure with pain.

But it only heightened her sensitivity.

"Holy fuck. Holy fuck." He moaned, a soft cry escaping his lips as he came, his cock deep and buried in her core, his thighs quaking but staying strong.

(02:24) (yea. This is what I am.)

He stayed inside, his cum dripping down the backs of her thighs and he sighed heavily, pulling out of her and instead, thrusting his fingers into her, plugging her shut.

Carefully, he picked up his glasses and rested them atop his head, before lifting her up, placing her on the toilet seat.

"Pee. I won't look." He averted his gaze, a blush on his face, and Y/N stared at him, her expression dumbfounded and tired.

"I can't pee with your fingers in me." She spoke.

"But I don't want it to run out yet." He pouted and she glared, but proceeded to pee, careful to not pee on him, as much as her heart would've wanted it.

She wiped, a glare still evident on her face and he helped her up, only removing his fingers once he had pulled up her underwear.

"I love you. Have fun at work."

He placed a loving, tender kiss on her lips as he walked her out, taking her to her car.

"You're a son of a bitch, Clark. A real asshole."

(02:49)

#headcannons #why god why #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent x y/n #dc comics #smut

84 notes · View notes