#el's fanfiction

[cowboybeepboop]

Hunted

"What are you doing to me, little one? You're driving me insane.."

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 4.5k 

Summary: Sergei finds you lost in the woods, comes to your rescue, and seduces you all in one day. 

Warnings: Mentions of being chased/harassed by men, being hunted, uses of “little one”, a size kink, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving)

a/n: Guys I’m so obsessed with Kraven omg, since I’m on break right now I’m grinding the fuck out of writing. also, I didn't proofread (per usual) I hope you all enjoy and send any requests you might have my way

You’re a little lost, well more than a little. Somehow you ended up being taken by a few strange men, and managed to get free but what good does that do if you’re lost, cold, alone, and limping in the Siberian forests? 

You drop down to rest, wrapping your arms around your body as the cool air assaults you. Trying to think of what to do next, while keeping in mind that there are three crazed men on the hunt for you. 

Kravinoff observes silently as he watches you drop to the ground, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep warm. His expression remains stoic, his eyes taking in every little detail about you. As he watches you shivering, he can't help but feel a small pang of...sympathy? No, that can't be right.

After a few moments of silent observation, Sergei finally breaks the silence, his voice gruff and blunt. "Lost, little one?"

You flinch at the sound of his voice, immediately reaching for a branch to attempt to defend yourself. "G-go away.." you murmur weakly, teeth chattering as you speak, your eyes trained on the floor. 

Kravinoff raises an eyebrow at your display, his lips twitching into a slight smirk as he sees you reaching for a branch to use as a weapon. 

He slowly takes a step closer, his heavy boots crunching in the snow as he does so. "You're a feisty one, aren't you? But that weak voice and shivering body are hardly intimidating."

"Please.." you murmur, eyes watery as you gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes, reminiscent of something his younger brother would do. "Please don't hurt me.." 

Sergei's expression softens for a moment as he looks down at you, the puppy dog eyes tugging at a very small part of his heart that he's long since tried to bury. "Hurt you? You think I'm going to hurt you?"

He takes a few more steps towards you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in the sight of your shivering and shivering body. "You're trembling, little one. And that limp, you're hurt."

"It's not that bad, I can walk," you whisper, watching as he approaches you slowly. 

"Not that bad, hm?" Sergei lets out a scoff, his dark eyes flickering over your body. "You're shivering from the cold, and you're clearly hurt. You can barely stand, let alone walk."

He crouches down in front of you, his large frame towering over you. "Tell me, what's your name, little one?"

"My name is Y/N.. there's these guys, they're hunting me. I don't, I don't know what to do." Your expression is pleading as you weakly stand up, shakey voice matching the trembles of your body. 

Sergei's expression darkens at the mention of other men hunting you. He glances around, his eyes scanning the area like a predator watching for prey.

"Hunters, huh? And they're after you. Interesting." Sergei's eyes return to you, his hand instinctively going to rest on the handle of one of the knives holstered on his belt.

"Why are they hunting you? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," you lean toward him, seeking the warmth that's radiating from his body. "At least I don't think I did? All I remember was waking up in a tent, they said that we were going to play a game.. I-" you trail off, a small tear falling down your cheek. 

Sergei watches as you lean towards him, a small pang of sympathy shooting through him again when he notices the tear rolling down your cheek. He's not used to comforting people, but something about you triggers a protective instinct within him.

"A game... What kind of game, little one?" He asks, his voice gruff but surprisingly gentle. He gently reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder to steady you.

"He said they would hunt me.." you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as a whistle sounds through the air. You press your body to his, eyes wide with fear, "i.. think they're getting close." 

Sergei's expression hardens as he hears the whistle through the air, his hand instinctively tightening on the handle of his knife. He glances around once more, his senses on high alert.

"Shhh," he murmurs, his other hand gently reaching out to hold you closer to him. "Stay quiet. They won't find you."

He pulls you to his chest, his large frame shielding you partially from view as he scans the woods once more.

You bury your reddened face into his chest, breathing in his musk and seeking safety in his grasp. Your arms move to cling to his waist, holding yourself closer to him. 

Sergei's nostrils flare as you bury your face into his chest, the scent of your skin, mixed with the musk of the forest, filling his senses. He can feel your arms clinging to his waist, the feel of your body pressed against his stirring something deep within him. He slowly reaches up and rests his hand on the back of your head, gently holding you against him.

"Don't worry, little one," he murmurs gruffly, his eyes still scanning the woods. "You're safe with me." You nod against his chest, too tired to speak. 

Sergei can feel the exhaustion radiating off you, your weary body leaning heavily against him. His fingers gently brush through your hair in a small, comforting gesture.

"You're exhausted," he murmurs, his voice still gruff but softer than before. "Let's find somewhere we can rest and get you warmed up."

Sergei shifts ever so slightly, his large frame adjusting so he's able to lift you gently into his arms, cradling you like a child.

You gasp as he effortlessly picks you up, arms instinctively going to his neck. "Where will we go?" you murmur.

Sergi glances down at you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, and a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He enjoys the feel of you in his arms, the way your body fits snugly against his.

"Somewhere safe," he replies, his voice gruff. "Somewhere these 'hunters' won't find us."

Carefully, Sergei begins moving through the forest, his powerful legs carrying both of you through the deep snow with ease. You nuzzle your face against his shoulder, finding him comforting in the vast forest. 

As you nuzzle your face against his shoulder, Sergei can't help but notice how much he's enjoying the feel of you in his arms. Your warmth against his chest, the soft sound of your breathing, and the gentle feel of you nuzzling against him.

He continues to move through the forest, weaving through trees and navigating the deep snow like a natural tracker. Every now and then, he glances down at you, his eyes taking in your tired, but now tranquil face.

You drift to sleep in his arms, body going limp as he continues to trek toward his home. Bringing you closer and closer to a warm safe shelter. 

Sergei feels your body go limp in his arms, signaling that you've fallen asleep. His arms instinctively tighten their grip on you, holding you securely against his chest as he continues to trek through the snowy forest.

Each step brings you both closer to his home, a small cabin nestled deep in the forest, away from the chaos of the outside world. As he approaches the cabin, Sergei can't help but feel an odd sense of protectiveness over you.

He gently pushes open the door to his cabin and steps inside, careful not to wake you. The cabin is warm and cozy, illuminated by the soft glow of a fireplace in the corner.

Sergei carries you over to a large, comfortable armchair and carefully sets you down, ensuring you're settled and comfortable. He takes a moment to gaze down at you, his eyes roaming over your tired face as you sleep.

He sighs deeply, his hands resting on the arms of the chair as he contemplates what to do next. You stir slightly at the lack of his body against yours, your arms reach out, seeking him once more. 

As you stir and reach out for him, searching for the warmth of his body, Sergei can't help but smirk to himself. He's not used to being sought after like this, and it brings an odd feeling of satisfaction to him.

He steps closer, gently taking hold of your seeking hands and holding them in his own large, calloused ones.

"I'm right here, little one," he murmurs gruffly, his voice low so as not to startle you.

As the morning sunlight streams through the windows, bathing the cabin in a warm, golden light, you stir in the soft, comfortable embrace of the armchair.

Sergei, who had spent the night keeping watch by the fireplace, notices your movements and rises silently from his chair. He watches as you pull the soft cloth blanket up to cover your face, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

He takes a step closer, leaning against the back of the armchair, and speaks in a low, gruff voice. "Morning, little one."

"You never told me your name.." you murmur, sliding out of the chair and sleepily moving to his side. 

Sergei's eyes roam over your sleepy form as you move to stand beside him, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he hears your question.

"I suppose I didn't," he says gruffly, his eyes watching you with a mixture of amusement and something else, something he can't quite place.

He lifts a hand and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, before replying, "My name is Sergei. Sergei Kravinoff."

"Sergei.." You repeat, settling onto the ground next to him, basking in the heat of the flames.

As you say his name, a small shiver of satisfaction runs through Sergei's body. He can't remember the last time anyone has spoken his name with such soft, sweet lips.

He watches as you settle onto the floor next to him, your body seeking the warmth of the flames. He can't help but admire your small, fragile form, your skin flushed and weary but still so very beautiful.

He glances down at you, his voice still gruff but softer than usual. "You should eat something, little one. You must be hungry."

Your face lights up at the mention of food, your stomach growling as if on cue. "I am a little hungry.." 

A small, satisfied smile tugs at the corners of Sergei's lips as he watches your face light up at the mention of food, and hears your stomach growl in confirmation.

"Looks like that settles it," he says gruffly, pushing himself up off the floor. "I'll fix you something to eat. Stay there and warm up."

Without waiting for a reply, he strides over to the small kitchen in the cabin, starting to prepare a meal.

You turn to watch his movements, craving his company at your side once again. A feeling of heat rises in your stomach as you gulp, eyes glued to his muscular frame. 

Sergei can feel your eyes on him as he moves around the kitchen, his muscular frame easily handling the preparation of the simple meal. He can't help but detect a hint of something in your gaze, a heat that he's not sure he quite understands.

He glances over at you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he meets your gaze. "What is it, little one?" he asks gruffly, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and mild amusement.

Your cheeks flush a bright pink, causing you to shake your head. "Nothing.. it's nothing." you reply softly.

Sergei's smirk grows wider as he notices the bright pink flush on your cheeks, knowing that he's caused a reaction in you. He can't help but be captivated by the innocent, shy look on your face.

He lets out a gruff chuckle, returning to his task of preparing the meal. "It's not nothing," he says, his voice holding a hint of playfulness. "You're staring at me, little one. I can feel your gaze on me. What are you thinking?"

"You're just very big.." you whisper, shocked by the words coming from your mouth. Clenching the blanket tight around you, you carefully adjust your clothes, feeling your panties becoming wet.

Sergei's eyes widen slightly at your words, a soft chuckle escaping his lips at the innocent bluntness of your statement. He can't help but be amused by your shyness, your flushed cheeks, and the way your body fidgets under the blanket.

He turns to face you fully, his eyes roaming over your form, drinking in the sight of you. He can sense the change in you, the heat in your body, and he can't help but wonder if you're even aware of it. 

"Is that so?" he asks gruffly, his voice holding a hint of something else, something deeper.

You nod, mind wandering to.. other parts of him, and how big it might be. "Mhm.." you murmur, looking up at him as he brings you a plate of food.

As you nod and confirm his words, Sergei can't help but notice the way your eyes wander over his frame, lingering on certain parts of his anatomy. He knows what you're thinking, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

He approaches you, holding out the plate of food. As he does, his eyes lock onto yours, his voice gruff as he speaks again. "Eat up, little one. You need your strength."

"Thank you Sergei.." you smile up at him, taking the plate and beginning to take a few small bites, your mind still focused on him. 

Sergei watches as you take the plate and begin to eat, his gaze studying you intently. He notices the small, subtle things, the way your eyes wander over his form, the way your lips move as you chew.

A small, amused smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he watches you, his own thoughts wandering to the same subject as yours.

"You're welcome, little one," he grunts, his voice gruff and low. "Make sure you eat all of it. Can't have you wasting away on me."

"Yes sir," you murmur between bites. Comfortable silence fills the air as he takes a seat next to you, his shoulder lightly brushing yours.

As you finish your meal, the silence of the cabin is filled with a comfortable stillness. Sergei lowers himself down to sit beside you, taking a moment to admire the sight of you as you finish eating.

His shoulder lightly brushed yours, the contact sending a small shiver through his body. Despite his gruff and stoic exterior, he can't help but be drawn to you, your innocence and vulnerability stirring something deep within him.

"Feeling better now, little one?" he asks, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.

"Much better," you grin, leaning against him, your hand falling to his lap. You're craving more, more of his touch, more of him, you just need him. 

As you lean against him and your hand falls to his lap, Sergei's body tenses momentarily, his breath catching in his chest. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, the slight weight of your hand on his thigh, and it awakening something within him.

He can't help but glance down at your hand, then back up at your face, a mix of surprise, desire, and a hint of hesitation in his gaze. "Little one..." he growls, his voice deep and hoarse.

"Yes, Sergei?" you breathe out, biting down on your bottom lip with desire. 

Sergei's eyes are fixated on your biting your lip, the sight sending a wave of heat through him. He can feel his body reacting to your closeness, to the desire in your voice.

He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your ear as he speaks, his voice a low, gruff whisper, "What are you doing to me, little one? You're driving me insane.."

You gasp as his voice sends shivers down your body, leaning closer to him you find a small amount of confidence. You slide your hand up his though, nearing the place you're most curious about. "Sergei.. I'm curious about something.."

As your hand slowly slides up his thigh, nearing a sensitive spot, Sergei's body tenses once more, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel the heat of your touch, the desire in your movements, and it's driving him wild.

He glances down at your hand, then back up at your face, his eyes dark and intense. "What is it, little one?" he growls, his voice thick with desire. "What are you curious about?"

"How big is it?" you gulp, looking up at him through your lashes as you settle between his legs. Almost salivating at the thought of seeing his cock.

As your words sink in, and your body moves between his legs, Sergei's breath hitches in his chest, a low growl escaping his lips. He can feel the heat in your body, the desire in your gaze, and it's driving him crazy.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and ravenous, as he responds in a low, guttural tone, "Are you sure you want to know, little one?"

"Mhm, I'm really curious," you whisper, hand sliding to the buckle of his belt and slowly maneuvering to remove it. "Is this okay?"

Sergei watches as your hand moves to his belt, slowly working to undo the buckle. Your touch is innocent yet filled with a desire that he can't deny.

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he contemplates your question. "You're very forward, little one," he says gruffly, his voice thick with a mix of desire and surprise. "But yes.. it's okay."

You slowly remove his garments, moving to free his hardness. Your body trembles in anticipation, desire coursing through you.

As you remove his garments, revealing his hardness, Sergei's breath hitches in his chest, his body trembling slightly as you bare him to your gaze.

He watches you, his eyes roaming over your face, studying the mix of desire and innocence in your expression. He can feel his own desire growing stronger by the second, a mixture of primal need and unexpected gentleness.

"Look at you..." he mutters gruffly, his voice thick with want. "You're so, so curious.."

Your hand wraps around his thick hard dick, eyes wide as you take in the sheer size of it. "I want to taste you," your gaze is focused on his length as you stick your tongue out, licking his tip slightly.

As you wrap your hand around his length, a low, guttural moan escapes his lips, his body tensing at the feel of your touch.

He watches as you lick his tip, your gaze fixed on his manhood, and it drives him crazy. The heat in your eyes, the desire in your movements, it's driving him to the edge.

"Is that so, little one?" he growls, his voice thick and strained. "You want to taste me, do you?"

You nod, lips wrapping around his throbbing cock. Your mouth is full of his manhood, eyes fluttering shut as you moan at the taste of his precum.

With a deep, shaky breath, Sergei allows you to continue, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels the warmth of your mouth engulfs his cock. The sensation sends waves of pleasure through his body, his muscles tightening and his heart racing. 

His hands instinctively move to the back of your head, guiding your movements gently as you take him in deeper, your soft moans muffled by his flesh. The feeling of your wetness and the gentle suction as you work your mouth over him is almost too much to handle, and he has to fight the urge to thrust into you.

Sergei's eyes snap open as your eager mouth continues to explore him, his grip on the back of your head tightening slightly as he watches you with a mix of hunger and amazement. "You're a natural, little one," he grunts, his voice strained as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. 

His hips begin to move almost imperceptibly, matching the rhythm of your mouth. The warmth, the wetness, the way your tongue swirls around his head – it's all too much for him to handle. He can feel his orgasm building, the tension coiling in his stomach and balls, begging for release. But he doesn't want this to end yet. He wants more of you, all of you.

With a sudden urgency, he pulls you off his cock, panting heavily. "Not yet," he growls, his eyes burning with desire as he looks down at you. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing over you, his large frame looming over you protectively. 

His hand moves to the hem of your shirt, sliding it up to reveal your soft, pale stomach. His lips follow the trail of his hand, kissing and nibbling gently, leaving a path of heat in their wake. 

You gasp and arch up into his touch, your own desires spiraling out of control. His rough hands begin to unbutton your pants, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly reveals your most intimate secrets.

As he unbuttons your pants, Sergei's eyes are dark with need, watching your every reaction with a predatory focus. 

He can feel the heat between your legs, smell the sweet scent of your arousal, and it's all he can do to not rip the rest of your clothes off in one swift move. But he holds back, enjoying the slow, methodical unveiling of your body.

He slides your pants down, his calloused hands brushing against the softness of your skin. His eyes are drawn to the small, lacy underwear you're wearing, the stark contrast to the ruggedness of the cabin and his own attire not lost on him. 

With a smirk, he hooks his fingers under the elastic and pulls them down, revealing your bare, shaven pussy.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. His eyes roam over the delicate folds of your sex, the sight of your wetness making his cock throb even more. He leans down and presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.

You whimper at his gentle touch, your body quivering with anticipation. "Sergei," you breathe out his name like a prayer, your legs falling open wider to give him better access. You can't believe this is happening, but all you want is for him to keep going.

His mouth follows the path of his kisses, moving closer to your core. When he reaches your pussy, he lingers for a moment, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh before his tongue darts out to taste you. The sensation is electric, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through your body as he explores you with the same curiosity and hunger he had when you first touched him.

"Oh god," you moan, your hands fisting in the sheets as his tongue delves deeper into your wetness. He licks and sucks, his beard scraping gently against your thighs, sending sparks of pleasure through you. Your hips buck against his mouth, seeking more, begging for it.

Sergei growls in satisfaction, the sound vibrating against your clit, sending you spiraling closer to the edge. His hands move to grip your hips, holding you in place as he devours you, his tongue swirling and flicking with expert precision. You're lost in the feeling, your world narrowing down to the warmth of his mouth and the exquisite pleasure he's giving you.

And as your orgasm builds, he slows down, teasing you, making you beg for release. "Please," you whine, your voice desperate and needy.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust and something else, something that makes your stomach flip. "Please what, little one?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that resonates through your core.

"Please, make me cum," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a smirk, he goes back to work, his tongue and lips bringing you closer and closer to the precipice until, with one final, hard suck, you're tumbling over, your body shaking with the intensity of your climax. You cry out his name as waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

Sergei watches you come with a fierce satisfaction, his cock pulsing with his own need. He moves up your body, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself at your entrance. "Are you ready for me, little one?" he asks, his voice a gruff whisper.

You nod, your eyes glazed with passion as you reach up to pull him closer. "Yes," you pant, your body arching up to meet his. "I need you inside me."

And with that, he pushes in, filling you up with one long, slow stroke that has you gasping for air. Your bodies fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. He begins to move, his thrusts deep and measured, his gaze never leaving yours as he takes you, claiming you as his in this moment of raw, primal passion.

With a fierce growl, Sergei slams into you, his cock stretching your tight pussy as he takes what he's craved since the moment he laid eyes on you. The feeling of you, warm and wet around him, is indescribable, and he can't hold back any longer. 

He begins to pound into you, each stroke hitting just the right spot, making you scream out in ecstasy. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, your heels digging into his muscular back as you meet his rhythm, urging him to go faster, harder. 

The bed beneath you creaks and shakes with the force of his thrusts, the headboard slamming into the wall in a steady rhythm that matches the beating of your heart. The room is filled with the sounds of your passion, the slapping of skin on skin, the harsh breaths, and desperate moans that fill the air like a symphony of desire. 

Your nails dig into the smooth skin of his back, leaving swollen red marks on his tanned skin, your pussy clenching around him as he continues to thrust into you. With each move of his hips, you become more and more needy, gasping and moaning his name. 

Sergei’s movements stutter, his hips pushing flush against yours, his head digging into your g-spot. His thick cock swells inside of you as your grip around him, your body coaxing his orgasm out of him. 

He buries his face into your neck, moaning lowly as he fills you with his warmth. You arch up into him, spasming around his still-hard length. 

“Fuck, oh fuck…” you whine, eyes fluttering shut as he collapses onto the bed next to you, pulling you to his chest. 

[secretidentie]

Superman and batman have been dating for years. Bruce knows Clark's identity(obv) but since Clark said he likes how down to earth he is, Bruce decides he can't just say he's a billionaire playboy and holds off on revealing his.

At some point Bruce (after immense brooding) decides to just tell Clark but at the last minute backs out and makes himself out to be a normal middle class guy who just works at WE.

Sure he kinda looks like Bruce Wayne but Clark just assumes "celebrity look alike ig" and he's never seen Wayne up close anyway so he doesn't even really consider it. Since Bruce already knows everything about him, Clark decides to take a week off work to visit Bruce's family and get to know them better.

Obviously this sets Bruce into panic mode. He somehow convinces Alfred and the kids to go along with operation-perfect-family and crams them into a middle class home and forbids visits to the manor unless it's an emergency. So Bruce has to keep up this everyman relatable ficade while making sure none of his kids snitch, Clark is trying to get to know his boyfriend better while trying to leave a good impression on his family and the whole batfam learns what it's like to have to share as a family by living in close proximity to each other and they learn more about the lives of the average githamites they protect.

[the-fyre-flie]

Bruce Wayne, 15, going with Alfred to visit Smallville after a tornado as a part of a charity/emergency relief effort, meeting also 15 year old Clark Kent, a very nervous farm boy who eventually opens up and matches his energy.

They are, at first, terrified of each other. Bruce is anti-social, and Clark is socially anxious. Clark is still trying to keep his powers under wraps, but Bruce is observant and seems to always be on his tail.

Bruce, leaning over Clark's shoulder: that lumber weighs a lot. Too much for an adult male.

Clark, who totally forgot he was being watched: oh uh... being farm raised makes me... stronger?

Bruce: hmmm... sure.

Clark is trying to direct Bruce through chores and cleaning up the half wrecked farm, and while Bruce is doing what he's told, it's obvious there's a lot of friction between them. Alfred and the Kent's watch their sons work to fix a fence, the pair slowly warming up to each other. The adults smile and chat over tea and pie while the boys fix the farm. Alfred says this is good for Bruce, working with normal folks and not being cooped up, and the Kent's are like 'haha normal yeah sure if only you knew'.

By night fall, Bruce and Clark are bickering over how to paint the fence, white paint all over Bruce's suit and Clark's hair. From afar, it looks like they're fighting, but to their parents, it looks like they're having the time of their lives with their new friend. They're shoving each other and fighting for the paint can, and when they eventually get scolded by Ma Kent and Alfred, they head inside and eat together and continue their bickering.

[blackynsupremacy]

SO INTO YOU

pairing: older!smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

summary: you and clark forget about the world as you indulge in each other on your honeymoon.

contains: 18+ content (mdni), smut, fluff, established relationship, reader and clark are newlyweds, l bombs, romance, oral (f receiving), praise kink, slight size kink, vanilla, missionary, implied unprotected lovemaking, squirting, i love welling clark but reader can imagine any clark they like!

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @miguelspvssy @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @ellethespaceunicorn

a/n: i swear imma get in requests! whenever i’m on pinterest i get a blurb i gotta write before i forget.

“hah, finally.”

clark kent sighed in content. your soft giggles were music to his ears as he carefully stepped over the threshold while holding you like precious cargo into the luxury italian suite that was graciously gifted to you both by lex luthor for your nuptials. the happiness you were both feeling was beyond words as you were just officially pronounced as husband and wife before your loved ones within the metropolis chapel. after a few hours of dancing and merriment at the reception, you and clark flew off to start your happily ever after in the beautiful city of venice. he smoothly kicked the door closed with one foot, never taking his eyes off of you when he placed you down to the stand on the ground. it was around seven in the evening when you landed, making the dim lit glow of the ivory and gold decor in the suite irresistible to pull your eyes from. you definitely weren’t in smallville, kansas anymore. you take clark’s hand within yours, slightly dragging him to peruse the area. you saw lex like a fairy godmother of sorts as he had exquisite tastes and boy, did it feel like you stepped in a fairy tale.

“oh, clark. can you believe this is ours? this is just—beautiful.” you confessed in pure awe. clark silently agreed, his blue eyes darting briefly around the room, but they can’t help to gravitate towards your figure. your ivory white corset dress that beautifully contrasted the melanated shade of your skin fit your body so perfectly that clark couldn’t wait another moment to remove the garment. he deliberately sauntered towards you, his large hands take ahold of your waist to press you closer to him. given his tall six foot stature, he leans down, so that his rose lips could press a kiss to the soft skin of your earlobe.

“that’s true, but it doesn’t compare to the beauty of my wife.” he whispered in a low voice and gripped tight tighter to your waist. clark felt a rush of joy course through his veins when he mentioned your new title. he couldn’t have been luckier to be with you in this moment. with the exception of a green rock, you were his true weakness. a sigh of his name escapes from your lips when his meet the warm, brown skin of your jawline to leave a trail of kisses against the bone before they descend to your neck. each kiss causes your skin to be ridden with goosebumps. he pulls his lips away momentarily and one of his large hands ascend from your waist, trailing smoothly over your chest for his palm to lay flat against your neck. the cold medal of his wedding band on your skin increases your excitement as clark pushes your neck backwards slowly for your head to lean. his face comes closer to yours for both of your lips to finally lock within each other. as they move in sync, you hold yourself together by bringing your hands up behind you, tangling your fingers in the plush, dark jungle of his hair. without breaking your lips from his, he swiftly turns you around and picks you up within his arms again, so that he could properly locate you to the master bedroom. clark lays your body down on cream, satin duvet where he temporarily pulls his mouth away from yours to just silently take in every part of what’s before him.

ever since your adolescence, you’d always held a deep respect for each other. as time passed, that respect slowly turned to admiration, transforming into the deep, true love you found in each other to this day. clark couldn’t count on his fingers the time that you’ve been there for him at his lowest. you never turned away from him when he revealed his powers or the time that he ran away from home. it had always been—you. the mere thought of you makes him almost grateful that he crashed down to earth on that fateful day in the fall of eighty-nine. you’d notice that clark had been silent for far too long, you’ve always been used to his lingering, blue eyes, but now you were starting to feel awkward as the desire for your new husband grew hungrier with each passing second,

“clark, baby, are you okay?” you softly inquire, your hands cupping the sides of his jaw as your fingers glide along his sculpted, blushing face. you beam with a small smile, you knew now that the feeling was indeed mutual.

“i don’t know if you know this, but i love what you do to me.” he pauses to press your lips in a searing kiss to pull away and resume speaking, “i love you—all of you.” you whine, pulling him down to take his lips to yours again, this time you let your tongue intrude into his mouth in which he graciously accepts by sensually intertwining the two together. you moan, bucking your hips into his direction, letting him know that your patience was running thin. you take your lips away from his, pushing any disheveled hair from his forehead to clearly peer into his eyes.

“i need you, clark—make love to me, please.” clark observed as you squirm, propping your legs up on each side of his hips, your thighs spread wider to signify of you both taking your relationship to a whole new level. clark’s breath hitched at your words, the urgency in your voice igniting a fire within him. he responded by leaning down and capturing your lips in another slow, passionate kiss that sent shivers down your spine. as he deepened the kiss, his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour. he doesn’t forget sneak his hands down to your ass to reward it with a tight squeeze. the more he touched, the more you felt the white lacy underwear you had on seep in your arousal. you melted into him, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingertips as you traced the outline of his shoulders beneath the fabric of the pristine button up, where your fingers succeed in their search to find and unravel each button.

“are you ready?” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of tenderness, hunger, and longing. “because once i start, i don’t think i’ll want to stop.” his blue eyes searched yours, wanting to ensure that this was what you truly wanted, but god, he’s practically waited years for this moment to come. your body was practically screaming “hell yes!”, but being the gentleman that jonathan and martha raised, your consent mattered, whether you’re his wife or not.

you nodded, your heart racing with anticipation, knowing that he can hear it clearly. “yes, clark, that’s the point—i don’t want you to stop. give it to me, baby.” you hastily replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“whatever you want—mrs. kent.” you bite your lip as your new name rolls off of his tongue so smoothly. he sits up to finish the job of unbuttoning his shirt before shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal the beautifully sculpted body that you swear gets more muscular. those long days of farm work over the years had seriously worked in his favor. clark sits you up, so that he could finally unzip your dress. you allow him to swiftly pull it away from your body before you take turns to discard the rest of your clothing until you’re completely bare before each other. clark is instantly mesmerized by your true form and he lays you back down again on the bed, his eyes never ceasing to inspect of what he thought was the most beautiful body in the entire galaxy.

“you are—breathtaking.” he proclaimed, the heat of embarrassment rises on your face. clark’s large body loomed over yours and he shifted his weight, at last positioning himself between your legs. you could feel the heat of your dripping arousal intensify at the sight of him, and it made your heart race even faster. he marveled at you as one of his hands palmed against one of your breasts. you moan out his name, encouraging him to go further with his touch. he took his time, savoring every moment as he ghosted his mouth around the other, trailing soft kisses along your dark erected nipple before enclosing it in his warm mouth. the kryptonian hummed against the skin to create a sensual vibration, igniting every nerve in your body. he didn’t forget to alternate between the two to give them equal attention.

“mmm—clark, baby, that’s so good, but i need more.” you request, bucking up your hips. clark chuckled at your impatience, he knew exactly what you needed. he wanted this to be a perfect experience for you, but he still wanted to tease you just a little.

“where do you need me, sweetheart?” he questioned before trailing kisses along your stomach. clark’s dick grew larger when he heard you whining. “c’mon, beautiful. use your words.” he went just a little lower to your navel, swirling his tongue around the perimeter of your belly button. despite the electricity he was sending through your body, you managed to articulate your need,

“clark…” you breathed, the sound laced with desire. “need your mouth—ngh, on my pussy.”

he looked up at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “you deserve nothing less.” he said, his voice low and husky. as his head moved lower, he spread your thighs wider, spreading kisses within that area. he even lapped up a bit of overflowing arousal that stuck to your skin. clark was about to go crazy knowing that you were this wet for him and him only. he had finally reached to where you needed him, your scent of your desire drives him to cop a taste by dragging tongue in a deliver lick along your entrance to which you whimper in approval. clark immediately gets to work by swirling his tongue on your sensitive pleasure point like its a delectable piece of candy. you arch your back off the bed and your hands promptly find their way to grip onto his hair for leverage as his tongue starts to prod at your wet hole. the pad of his thumb takes care of your clit while his tongue explores deep into your pussy.

“oh, s-shit, clark. just like that, baby.” you want to clench your legs around his head to bring him closer, but he uses the strength of his elbows to keep your thighs separated, so that you could get all of what he was working with without you running away. you practically clench around his tongue, encouraging him to taste every single inch of you until you completely unravel beneath him. he brings his tongue back around your clit, giving the sloppiest of licks as if he were indulging in a melting ice cream cone, attempting to catch every drop. he drives you mad as you were still firmly planted on the bed, thighs wide open when you observe his head shaking side to side to bury himself deeper. with the little strength you have, you attempt to grind your hips. your thighs are trembling when you feel that ball of fire inside of you ready to erupt at any minute. the final straw when he takes your clit between his lips to firmly suckle on it.

“clark, m’gonna cum!”

at hearing your words, one of his hands grasps to yours, tightly intertwining your fingers.

“let go. cum for me, pretty girl. i got you.”

the movements of his tongue become more relentless as the other hand rapidly rubs on your nub to finally get you to the first of many highs for the evening. you cry out his name, arching your back and rocking your hips as you gush your liquids onto clark’s heavenly face.

“atta girl. you did so good.” he hums in appreciation by lapping up every single drop, never getting tired of the taste. he slides up to plant your lips on yours, slipping his tongue in so smoothly, so that you could enjoy the taste of yourself as he did previously. he takes your legs to wrap themselves around his waist before using his arms to prop himself up above you. as he finally aligned himself at your entrance, you gaze down and gasped at his impressive girth. he was well endowed as this wasn’t just some regular earth dick. clark paused, his gaze locked onto yours, ensuring that you were ready for this next step.

“i hope you’re ready, sweetheart. i’ll be gentle, but just let me know if it’s too much, okay? i love you.”

you nod, placing one last searing kiss to his lips.

“i trust you, clark. i love you so much more.” you say with sincerity, now gazing down again as he began to finally put your bodies together like two long lost puzzle pieces awaiting to complete the final picture.

you both shudder and sigh out in ecstasy once the tip was inside. you were made for each other. as he filled you up inch by inch, the world around you simply disappeared only leaving the rhythm of your breaths and the sound of your bodies moving in sync. every movement was a dance and every lewd vocalization was a song of celebration of your everlasting love. as husband and wife, you lost yourselves in the moment, surrendering to the bliss that enveloped you both for the rest of the night.

[ladybirdswritings]

INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part

one…

What am I doing here? The words echoed in your head like a pulsing poison, eating away at your brain like ants to honeycomb.

Your brother was off sitting in a circle, fawning over cars, football, and all else that fueled testosterone and silly male enjoyment.

And then there was you, hugging the corner like an old lover, its shadows mirroring your open embrace.

“We should go over there,” declared Kate, a ringlet of her curl dancing with the springtime breeze. “You know, to see what the boys are talking about.”

No. No no no no no no—

“Yeah, we should!” Oh, if people wouldn’t see it as odd for you to slam a hand against your cheek…

There was a glaze over your pretty, fretting eyes and restless mind, a honeyed glaze slick with doubt and dissociation. You’d pushed yourself enough by coming here, and now you were being led like lamb to cleaver—ready to face your slaughter at the hands of—oh.

So busy was your mind that you might have kept your head bowed if not for subconscious pleasure.

His boots were shiny, and his denim tailored—and it’s all you paid attention to before your gaze shifted upward to find two remarkable blue-gray eyes peering in curiosity.

“Clark!” he blurted, offering a strong hand, and if you had half a mind, you would have realized it wasn’t politeness but interest.

You, always so caught up in doubts and hyperfocusing on imperfections. So caught up that you never quite saw what mirrored in men’s eyes when they gazed hungry at you: intimidation. You were strong, intelligent—and God—so pretty. Yet you could only breathe in your lack.

So no, when the handsome flannel boy with glasses far too big for his chiseled face and unruly raven hair—when his southern-kissed greeting met your ears, you had no idea it was a game.

A game between the men.

First to catch her interest would be first to have her.

But Clark was different. He wasn’t interested in feeding off the competition, he wanted to beat them to it. To offer you what they could not. But you knew none of this. You only knew that he greeted women as if a fire was forcing his hand.

“Y/N,” you warmed with a smile, shaking his hand in turn. He pulled back, gazing at his palm for a moment before a pinch settled between his brows.

“This is my sister, everyone. And this is my girlfriend, Kate.” Your brother strung Kate to him like a fly to spiderweb. She became smiley again, saying, “We got bored and decided to eavesdrop.”

“Be our guest,” Clark offered, the southern tang to his voice so soft you had to drown out the world to catch it. His eyes were on you, but your head was too bowed to realize.

Your gaze flickered to Kate sitting atop your brother’s lap. You shifted on your feet.

Vance, your brother’s friend, whom you had an insufferable crush on, stood in unison with Clark.

Their gazes locked in a silent contest you were too innocent to realize before Vance, frustrated, laughed breathily and sat back down.

“Oh no, it’s fine—” you began, but Clark shook his head, stepped aside, and motioned to the armchair. His gaze was so severe you had no choice but to comply.

You shuffled over awkwardly, finding your seat—only Clark stood beside you. He smelled of honeyed whiskey, chai, old books, and firewood. You stared at his veined hand on the arm of your seat, your mind wandering for a moment… What might that hand feel like against your skin?

“Surprised you guys aren’t over there yapping about books,” Vance began, his coal-colored eyes blanketing your face like a sinful dare.

It would never work. He was the moon, and you were the sun, warm and bright opposed to cold encased by darkness. But for months, his subtle flirtations evoked a lonesome part of your heart. Perhaps it was the lesser part of you, used to unhealthy men, that made you bend toward his attention like a starved flower. Regardless, you did, and it never made you feel less awful after parting.

When your gaze broke from his, you giggled shyly in unison with Kate, but that strong voice sliced through, commanding your attention again.

“You like to read?” he asked.

You flicked upward to Kate, only to find her chocolate stare upon you.

Oh… he was asking you.

“Um—” you began, nervous to have attention on your voice. “Well, yeah, sort of.”

“Sort of?” he tested with the lazy beginnings of a smile. You realized then how silly you sounded.

“Do you read?” you asked Clark, allowing your curiosity to bring your eyes back to him. As if he were a marionette, and you his new puppet, being pulled by an invisible string so he might study your pretty eyes. Were they always so warm and doe-like? Or had the wine made them more gentle? He wondered as you turned the question onto him.

“I do,” he replied, but when you grew shy and quiet again, he winced at himself. His icy gaze stuttered toward Vance, and he knew then that he’d have to open his mouth if he wanted your attention. He’d just have to work a little harder, and that was okay.

Usually, pretty girls like you would flock to him with no effort needed. Something about him looking like a Pinterest boyfriend, and all he had to do was sit and attract. But you… something about you told him you weren’t like the rest.

“I uh— I do.” He continued, breaking the stretched silence. “Sally Rooney—” he began, but you cut him off immediately.

“You read romance?” Your eyes widened, and your body turned toward him, and for a moment, you were completely lost in his words.

He didn’t pause or flicker with annoyance at your enthusiasm but instead gave you a lopsided grin.

“I do,” he confirmed. Though not a lie, he found himself a fisherman who’d hooked you with the most irresistible bait. Pretty, mysterious, shy girl you were—now he’d get you to talk. “Do you?”

Kate cut in, “We read about fairies and dragon riders.” You flushed a pretty pink with an embarrassed laugh. He peered down at you, giving Kate only a ghostly laugh of acknowledgment.

“You like fantasy, then?” he said so low it was as if the conversation was reserved for only the two of you.

As if fate were aiding his hand, the others fell into comfortable conversation. Not you, though. You were pinned under his grayed gaze.

“I read anything with a good love story,” you answered, so honestly, it surprised you.

“I like that,” he said simply, as if he were talking to himself. When he realized it, a pinch snaked between his brows, and you couldn��t help but softly laugh. He mirrored you. “What?”

“You’re likely the only man alive who does, if you’re telling the truth.”

“Well I—” he began, but your brother cut in.

“Ready to head out, Y/N?” You noticed just how entranced you’d been in this handsome stranger, not for his pretty face or interests, but for his words. The rest never mattered—not for you anyway. You often found it hard to capture any man’s attention, let alone the handsome ones. Even so, a lick of disappointment thrummed in your heart.

You dared to wonder what might happen if you offered your social media so he could contact you again. But the idea sped your heart and widened your eyes, so you stood with a nod.

Vance offered you a warm hug, and you merely waved at the others before turning to Clark—well, Clark’s chest. He towered over you, his honeyed whiskey scent licking your senses as he pulled you into a warm embrace. Gentle, curious, as if testing the feel of your body against his. Stranger to stranger—but he was so warm, so confusingly familiar.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N,” he spoke first, pulling away. Swayed by his warmth, you could only nod.

Now was your chance. Your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to ask for a way to keep in contact with this mysterious stranger. But you cowered when you glanced up at his pretty face.

Fate wasn’t kind, and in your mind, you decided there was a model waiting for his warmth at home—and you were only allowed to entangle with him for a moment, never again.

“You too, Clark…”

Then you were off, never to see the mysterious stranger ever again.

[hotdsworld]

"Property" Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x F!Stark!Reader

a/n: hello again! Y'all, ofc I'm getting back with more horny. Starting off with hotd but I have a fair share of filthy also for Avatar lovers. Dividers from lovely @cafekitsune

Summary: An arranged marriage or not, that man still belongs to you and you only.

Word count: 3,2k

Warnings: 18+, subby Aemond, hair pulling, 69, piv, handjob, no protection, breeding, bondage, impreg, dom Reader

You were the Lady of the North, younger sister of the formidable Cregan Stark. Your heart was as cold and unyielding as Winterfell itself, yet it seemed to beat a little bit differently whenever he was with others. It was beneath you to be jealous, especially of your arranged husband, whom you claimed to not care for. Prideful as you were, your pride seemed insignificant now as you watched the wench clinging to his arm. It wasn't the jealousy that gnawed at you, it was the disrespect he showed towards your marriage. Arranged or not, it was still a marriage.

The other ladies mingled with such ease, their charm and beautiful smiles flowing effortlessly. Why was it so difficult for you? You were his wife, yet you couldn't seem to catch his attention as they did. Sometimes, you wish you learned the art of charm instead of hunting… it would make everything so much easier.

Once his eye met yours you shook your head, feigning disinterest. Aemond smirked, clearly relishing the sight of you bothered by him receiving the attention of another lady. Was it the jealousy that fueled your glare, or did you truly despise him to look at him with such disdain? It didn't matter to Aemond. He knew that a wolf can be tamed, it just requires patience… and he had plenty of it. He had no interest in other ladies especially when they spoke of nonsense he did not wish to hear about, but seeing you like this? Looking as if you wanted to murder the lady and even him for looking at her? He could not resist teasing you a bit, enjoying the fire in your eyes. Aemond leaned a little closer to the lady, who seemed so joyful about the little gesture. You rolled your eyes, getting back to the castle. You wished to stay composed and something about Aemond chatting so nicely with others made your blood boil.

It was evening. The time when Aemond could finally relax if only a little. His perfectly straight hair had now taken on its natural curls, a look you secretly preferred, though you would never admit it. You watched him intently, as if there was something new to discover. He was sitting by the fire, absentmindedly playing with his fingers. You wondered what he was thinking about… his family? Your marriage? You didn't turn your gaze from him even for a second. You couldn't deny his attractiveness, biting your lip as you imagined all the things those slender fingers could do to you-

“Perhaps you are somewhat a predator. Always watching, no?” His voice broke the silence, pulling you out of your thoughts. Though he didn't turn to look at you, you felt the full weight of his attention on you. He was a mystery yet to be solved. You took a deliberate step closer, your eyes running all over his figure, almost appreciatively. He was truly like prey to you, and it was up to you what you were going to do with him. You took a step towards him, wondering if you should sit on the armchair beside him or remain standing. Standing was putting you in the dominant position, sitting offered some kind of intimacy… You crossed your arms on your chest.

“If you know I'm watching it means you are observing too,” you remarked, not failing to notice the slight crack in his smile. Aemond didn't expect his wife to be so perceptive. The realization seemed to amuse him. You licked your lips, carefully considering your next move. The room was filled with unspoken tension, a silent battle of wills.

“One would want to know what his wife is up to, don't you think?” A hint of challenge in his tone. You would gladly take one. You moved closer, stopping right in front of him. He was much taller than you, but now that he was sitting he was the one who needed to look up. His eye took in your face even though he knew it like the back of his hand. You were always hidden in Winterfell, he needed to admit: his mother made a great choice to betroth him to you. Such a hidden gem… who would have thought? Aemond never seemed so fascinated by a lady until now.

You leaned in slightly, your presence commanding his full attention, and he was gladly giving it to you. Your fingers traced a light path down his hair. So soft and silky… you always wondered how it would feel beneath your fingers. You tugged on it, unable to stop yourself. Aemond tensed, not respecting such boldness from you. His reaction only fueled your confidence. You moved even closer, your breath warm against his neck. You didn't know why you were getting close… you felt the need to claim and the prey was right there, ready to be devoured. You sat on his lap comfortably, your fingers trailing to his collar… your touch was light but deliberate. His eye followed your every movement, a mix of curiosity and desire in his gaze. You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his sensitive neck. Aemond began to breathe heavily; he felt like if you didn't stop, he was going to rip your clothes apart and take you right there on the floor like a teasing slut that you are.

“What do you want?” His voice husky. Aemond felt that if you asked him nicely, he would do anything for you. You were dangerous, perhaps he underestimated you and your power. You pretended to think about it, even though you knew damn well what you needed from him.

“I want you to take your clothes off,” you stood up. His jaw clenched as your touch left him abruptly. Aemond hated being submissive, but somehow deep inside of him made him remove his tunic. You watched with fascination almost. “The eyepatch too. I want you to be truly naked.” You had him concerned, your prey… maybe the hunting skills are useful here after all. He stood naked as you admired him in his full glory. It seemed like all the training paid off. You couldn't help but think of what you wanted to do to him… you wanted to own the Targaryen Prince. You wanted him to be completely and utterly yours. You grabbed a few of your ropes which were hidden beneath the bed. Aemond raised his eyebrow, as if questioning you..

“Do you want me to tie you up, Zokli?” Aemond could already imagine you squirming underneath him as he pounds into you without any breaks, he would have you screaming.

“That little wolf is going to tie YOU up, dragon.” Aemond didn't even have a chance to protest. You pushed him back on the bed, your hands working swiftly on the knots. After you restricted his movement, you tied him up to the bed; he was completely at your mercy… It was new to Aemond, but he found himself finding it exciting. His cock rock hard, begging for attention.

“Aren't you going to undress too?” He wanted to see his little wolf naked. He wanted to admire your boobs and that gorgeous ass. You smirked, sitting on the bed beside him. Painfully close, yet not touching him. Aemond was frustrated, any woman would have been pleasuring him by now or begging for him to take her… but not you.

“Bold of you to assume you deserve to see it, my lord husband,” your fingers moved up his thigh. Before, you wouldn't expect that you would get the Targaryen prince in such a position. You found yourself enjoying it more than you should. You paused right before your hand could touch his cock, Aemond groaned, clearly displeased with your teasing.

“Do you see how hard I am for you, Zokli?” Aemond wanted to boost your ego, he just needed you to touch him. It felt like his balls were going to explode. How could he allow you to trap him like this? Maybe you were a witch, that would explain everything…

“Tell me,” your fingers trail around the length of his cock. You wanted it inside of you so bad, but you couldn't just let him have it all right away. Aemond looked into your eyes, curious of what you wanted to hear from him. He would do anything to feel more of you, no matter how much he despised himself for it. You spit on your hand to smear it all over his cock a while later. You began to stroke slowly, not breaking eye contact. Aemond grunts as your touch sends waves of pleasure through his body. “Tell me how much better I am than them. Tell me they don't get you as hard as I do,” maybe you were outing yourself by asking for it, but you needed to hear it. You needed to know your lord husband treasures you the most. You wanted him obsessed, unable to look away from you. Aemond did want to tease you for your jealousy but he answered before his brain could register it.

“They will never be as interesting as you. In a room full of women I see only you. It matters not if my gaze is on them, in my head there's only you. The best fucking thing is you don't seem to notice how tempting you are. If I look at you for too long I'm already leaking precum, princess” he will hate himself after for it, but right now his judgment was clouded by pleasure. His pride didn't matter, none of it mattered. Only the feeling of your hand moving up and down his cock. “Don't stop,” it was a demand, it was supposed to be a demand but it came out more like a plea. Aemond could feel himself getting closer. He didn't settle for ladies of a brothel or the court, so his balls were full. You paused, savoring the moment, the power you held over him. Aemond clenched his jaw as you ruined his orgasm. You giggled innocently, getting rid of your gown. Aemond admired your body, he wished he could suck on those breasts. You were perfect.

“Now now, I deserve some pleasure too, don't you think? You can't move, I know” you straddled his face, your dripping wet pussy hovering over his face. You leaned down forward, to get the access to his cock, settling nicely in sixty-nine position.

“Sit on my face, stop fucking playing,” he growled, eager to get a taste of you. If he wasn't tied up he would pull you down and eat you out until tomorrow, but you have to be fucking clever. You offered him a few playful kisses on the tip before sucking on the head of his cock, your hands grasping his balls, massaging them. You were gradually taking him deeper, sucking eagerly as your hands played with his balls. Aemond's eye surrounded as a moan left his lips. You lowered yourself on his face, knowing that he's close but he didn't complain, licking all over your wet folds before pushing his tongue inside of you. He was sloppy with eating you out, humming and moaning both from the way you sucked his cock and how you tasted. You kept going, moaning around his cock, moving your hips to get more of his tongue. You were getting close and so was he… when you felt him tense you straightened your back, getting away from his cock. Aemond groaned against your cunt, but didn't stop his ministrations. You were cruel, but maybe he did deserve it for teasing you for days. You pulled on his curls as the pleasure began to build up, unable to control yourself. You needed to hold onto something and his hair was perfect for it. You closed your eyes, desperately pulling on his hair and moving your hips. With every pull his cock twitched, Aemond felt like he was going to cum untouched. You pulled once more as the orgasm washed over you, your thighs shaking. Aemond eagerly devoured your sweet juices, licking you clean. You closed your eyes, taking a moment to catch your breath. You sat beside him, fingers running down his abs.

“You are going to pay for this,” he threatened, even though it sounded rather pathetic now. You straddled him lazily, grinding against his cock. He was painfully hard and you found yourself enjoying driving him crazy in such a way.

“Now now, be nice or you won't get to fuck my pussy, my lord husband” you grinned, grinding against him. You wanted it as much as he did, but you had to punish him for getting too friendly with those wenches, no? He deserved to be treated like this, he deserved to be forced into submission.

“Stop teasing,” he groaned, clearly frustrated. Aemond needed to cum, he needed to feel your pussy, he needed to fuck you. No matter how hard he struggled against the ropes they wouldn't give in. You smiled innocently, looking at him as if you had no idea of what he was talking about. It turned into an evil smirk real quick. Your fingers playing with his hair.

“Beg me. Beg me to ride you, Aemond. I want you to beg and convince me that you are only mine,” you tugged on his hair, as if urging him to do as you wished. Aemond closed his eye, frustrated with you. He was torn between obeying and telling you off. How dare you? Asking a Prince to beg for a fuck? There were many eager for him, yet he chose to chase after you. His cock was aching and he wasn't thinking clearly, he needed to be inside of you. To beg was to show weakness, and it wasn't something he could afford. Yet, you held more power over him than he would like to admit.

“I don't beg,” he said sharply, trying to detach himself from the situation. He couldn't allow you to dominate him, not like this. Aemond never begged in his life and he didn't wish to change it. Aemond acted as he wasn't the pathetic one, all tied up, just waiting for your mercy.

“Prideful as ever, Aemond. But pride won't get you what you desire,” you grind against him, as to remind him what he can get if he begs. Aemond wanted to strangle you right there, how could you play with him like this? If he allows this… what else will he allow? You were dangerous.

“Laughing now… you won't be laughing once the ropes are off,” a predatory gleam in his eye. Aemond was too deep in this. He needed you, right here right now. Aemond took a deep breath, cursing himself. “You want me to beg?” His voice dropping to a whisper. You watched him intently, noticing how hard it is for him. “Please, Zokli. I need you more than anything else. I would set the Realm on the fire if you asked me to. Your every wish shall be my command. The gods knew what they were doing, intertwining the fate of a dragon and a wolf. Ride this cock until you’re sick of it, it's completely yours. I will rip my heart out of my chest if you only asked me to. Please,” he was desperate. He wasn't sure if he wanted you to believe him only for sex or if there was something deeper in it. You bit your lip, wondering if you should make him suffer more, but decided against it. You sank down onto his cock, savoring the way in which it was stretching you out. A small gasp left Aemond's lips as your velvety walls surrounded his cock. You began to move slowly, letting yourself adjust to his size. Aemond forced himself to keep his eye open, watching how your body moved on top of him. He was never on the bottom, but it was fucking hot to see you like this.

“Such a charmer you are,” you began to bounce on his thick cock faster, driving both of you crazy. You tugged on his hair, relishing in the way his cock twitched every single time. His cock was filling you up perfectly, leaving no room for anything else.

“Ride that cock, you slut. You were jealous? Show me that it's yours,” he urged, grunting with every bounce of yours. He was already close, but he held himself back for now. Aemond didn't want to cum before you. With your other hand, you began to tease your clit. “Fuck, you’re clenching when you do that,” Aemond hissed, trying to hold back the lewd sounds from coming out of his mouth. But every time you pulled on his curly hair he would moan like a slut. The pleasure began to build in your stomach, so you increased the pace. You were sure you would break the bed that way, but you didn't care. All that mattered was that cock inside of you.

“I was jealous,” you admit, caring not if he was going to tease you about it later. Aemond is your husband and you will be damned before anyone else gets him. “But I found a perfect solution. What a better way of showing how good our marriage is than a babe? They all will know you fuck me… and the ladies will back off because you’re pain. My property, my prey, my lord husband. Mine,” you were feral, but it was all because of him. Aemond was driving you crazy this whole time. He smirked upon hearing your words.

“Well, get yourself pregnant, Zolki. A whole litter of pups,” he sucked on your breasts. You tilted your head back, moaning loudly as he sucked on it hungrily, marking all over your chest. Every once in a while you would pull on his hair, so he doesn't forget who's truly in control… but Aemond loved it. No one could touch his hair, no one but you. “Take my seed, all of it. Carry it in your womb proudly, like a trophy. Show them who is the wife of Aemond Targaryen,” he interrupted himself just to encourage you, groaning as your pussy clenched around his dick. Aemond moved a bit, beginning to thrust up into you from underneath. Your eyes rolled back as you rubbed circles against your clit.

“Please, cum in me. Cum in me, Aemond. Show me that you are mine and fill up my womb with your seed. Do it,” you begged-demanded, riding him, desperately chasing your orgasm. Aemond bit your nipple gently, thrusting up into you rough. You screamed as your walls tightened around him and you came undone, pulling his hair hard. Aemond filled you up to the brim with his nice potent warm seed. You laid your head against his chest, exhausted. You were satisfied, it was the best orgasm you have ever had… He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, not attempting to pull out of you. Aemond closed his eye, trying to catch up his breath. No one has made him feel like this before. He didn't care about pride, all he wished to do was pleasing you: as a sub or as a dom, it mattered not because no matter what he is your property.

[saintvainglorious]

Fics I Enjoyed in December - DC Comics Fic Rec List

Fell headfirst back into DC Comics for the first time in years this month. Reread some old favorites and discovered some new gems!

My January DC Comics fic rec list is here!

Heart, Humble by Betty (Mature, 8k, 2005) Jack Drake deals with finding out that Tim is Robin (poorly, and then not so poorly). THEE canon-accurate Jack Drake-focused fic of all time, this is canon in my heart.

Back then, all the boys his age had hero-worshipped costumed vigilantes. Jack supposes they still do.

Exit Strategy by smilebackwards/@smilebackwards (Teen & Up, 13k, 2021) Tim plans to leave a family he thinks he was never really a part of and decides to train Damian on how to run Wayne Enterprises before he goes. Delicious angst, excellent character work, and fun Wayne Enterprises worldbuilding.

Batman needs a Robin and Batman has a Robin. Tim is just extraneous now, vestigial. He’s a bandage over a healed wound. He doesn’t know what he’s hanging on to. Or: Tim didn’t expect his exit strategy from the Batfamily to involve quite so much bonding time with Damian over Wayne Enterprises bureaucracy.

On the Downbeat by medusaceratops (Teen & Up, 2k, 2019) Bruce and Jason talk while waiting in line at a drive-thru (featuring Gotham-typical violence and husborth-typical gorgeous prose). I've always adored husborth's Star Wars fics and I'm so glad I dipped my toe into their DC works, no one's writing hits quite like husborth.

Jason has recovered his sanity, and Bruce and Jason have recovered their relationship; but there are some things that are hard to forget.

A Zoo for Canines by medusaceratops (Mature, 45k, 2019) Part 2 of Zoology; Dick and Jason try to help Bruce recover from addiction. If you're used to fanon Dick Grayson (cheery, friendly, forgiving) you will not find him here - his anger and pain is ugly, raw, and so fucking captivating.

Edit: This fic and the series has since been deleted off ao3, though Part 1 (An Aquarium of Nameless Things) is still up; DM me if you'd like to read it.

Dick, Bruce, and Jason head out to a cabin in the mountains, and they handle things about as well as they handle anything.

All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_ODuibhir/@kieron-oduibhir (General Audiences, 70k, 2015) Dick almost dies and makes Jason promise to take care of the family for him. A masterclass demonstration on how DC fic can square all the wildly divergent canon versions of Jason Todd into a single compelling character.

For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.)

The Till-Then From the Ever-Since by Kieron_ODuibhir/@kieron-oduibhir (General Audiences, 85k (WIP), 2020) Kid versions of the whole Batfamily mysteriously time travel to the future! I livetexted a friend the whole time I read this so I could yell about how amazing the character writing is; also I'm wildly impressed with how the author deftly handles tons of dialogue-heavy scenes with like 12+ guys in it without anyone going unmentioned.

It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason. Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.

only you will have stars that can laugh by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 9k, 2022) Dick finds out Tim is alone on Christmas and invites him to Babs' Christmas party. Discovered silverwhittlingknife through their galaxy brained Dick & Tim meta essays, stayed for every single line of Chapter 2 ripping out my heart and roasting it over an open flame.

You coming over is possibly the only thing that’s gonna stop me from wanting to punch your dad in the face, Dick doesn’t say. My current Christmas Day plans are 1) pace around at home, and 2) try not to obsess about what Bruce is up to, so trust me, you’ll be an improvement, Dick doesn’t say. Tim's alone on Christmas Eve. Dick finds out, and fixes it.

nerve endings by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 5k (WIP), 2024) Post-Catalina Flores, Dick, Tim, and Bruce go on a (canon-accurate) cruise and dance around their open wounds. This is a glorious example of "he WOULD fucking say that", Dick's voice is so canon-accurate that the angst is even more painful i cri

It's all right, even, to have a foreign hand pressing against his skin, testing him, testing his reactions. He keeps his breathing controlled. Just Tim, damn you, it’s just Tim, don’t fuck it up. Dick's on a cruise with Bruce and Tim. And he's fine. Mostly.

Red Letter Day by silverwhittlingknife/@silverwhittlingknife (Teen & Up, 42k (WIP), 2022) Dick is sure the cryptic scribble in his agenda refers to something he's supposed to do for Damian, but he can't remember what. Mostly about Tim and Dick s l o w l y mending the post-Damian rupture in their relationship, but the whole family is here and Jason, especially, is fucking hilarious.

Dick Grayson, stressed pseudo-parent to a preteen assassin, tries to solve the case of Damian’s Mysterious Wednesday. He never expected it to help him fix his relationship with Tim, too. (… Though only after everything fell apart first.)

Gonna Be A Better One (A Thousand Miles To Your Door) by Traincat/@traincat (Teen & Up, 18k, 2011) Tim and Kon keep dating even after Jack forces Tim to retire as Robin. I reread this fic annually and every time am delighted to rediscover how funny and heartwarming and squee-inducingly kind it is, pure Timkon perfection.

In which Tim quits being Robin, Kon refuses to quit Tim and Ma Kent is full of relationship advice.

last light in a darkened room by bigdamnher0/@bigdvmnhero (Not Rated, 6k, 2024) Tim finds a distressing video of Robin!Dick and wishes that things were different. The whole fic, particularly Tim manifesting a happy ending in the bathroom, is a gorgeously crafted tragedy such that you're left kind of awed at how thoroughly massacred your heart and soul are post-read.

Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage. Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus/@vinelark (Teen & Up, 91k (WIP), 2024) Superboy rescues civilian Tim Drake before learning that Tim is Robin and shenanigans ensue. I spent my whole holiday vacation intermittently screaming at this fic while my family members looked on with vague concern this fic is ADORABLE and AGONIZING and PERFECT please and THANK YOU.

He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy.

[plutonicbees]

we talk about "yj killed santa!" "yj watched santa die!" "yj let santa get exploded by an evil meteor!"

but we need to further discuss the fact that they then took it upon themselves to deliver all of santa's presents---and they weren't even able to finish until march

so, how do you think they went about it?

I imagine they really tried their hardest until the new year (or the end of somebody's winter break), at which point it just became a kind of chore list between school and missions and shit

there were probably spreadsheets and schedules to get it done asap but the thing about having to do all that on top of being a superhero and a teenager---is that a schedule would mean absolutely nothing; procrastination. world ending shit. weird ass super shit. the general maladies of being teen aged.

in my mind, they tried doing team deliveries via the super-cycle before realizing that they should really just split up, at which point the brunt of it fell to bart, kon, and cassie. cue cartoon image of bart running with a comically large backpack. but tim or cissie could take the super-cycle and carry larger deliveries and greta likes to tag along on those rides.

also, having to leave the house to do all that?? max would absolutely think bart is fucking with him and trying to get out of doing his schoolwork. helena would just sit down like. nobody told me having a superhero daughter would involve the aftermath of santa's fiery death. what did I do to deserve this. I can't even imagine this being a lie because it would be the most insane lie ever. I don't even care if you're just trying to go out with your friends because what was that story. and then there's tim on a faraway mission with dick or bruce just going "hey I need to make a delivery, dw abt it ahaha" and then fucking off to do his santa shit. absolutely does not bring it up.

do you think cissie was still on the team by the end of those 3-ish months? did they hold her to being a santa helper even when she left?

consider the implications !!!!

[thesparklingblue]

"... Kara, who was basking in the sun clad only in a pair of short jean cut off's and a white bikini top."

Commission requested by Doccubus21 ☺️ You can read her fic "Impulse" and the scene that inspired the art here

[cowboybeepboop]

Kiss the chef 

 "Oh God...keep doing that..." 

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: Clark is your best friend, who you suspect of being Superman. 

a/n: Guys I’ve been like obsessed with writing but I have zero time 😔 it’s torture and I’m also running out of ideas for the names of each oneshot they’re getting crazy 😭 Also yes, I’m aware I shift perspectives a lot, thats a stylistic choice 👍

Clark hums softly as he moves around the kitchen area, his hands working diligently as he prepares dinner for the two of you. 

He glances over his shoulder, his eyes catching a sight of you lounging on the couch, completely engrossed in your phone, a smile forms on his lips as a gasp escapes yours.

"Almost done in here," he says, his voice laced with a hint of contentment. "You find anything interesting on there?"

He turns his attention back to the meal, stirring something in a pan on the stove while sneaking glances your way, curious to know what's capturing your focus.

“Actually, yes.” You reply, hopping up and joining him in the kitchen. “There’s new photos of Superman that were just released.” You gushed, he knows about your crush on the hero, yet doesn't know that you’re imagining him as Superman.

Clark quirks an eyebrow, a slight amused smile on his face as he pretends to be surprised at the news. 

"Really?" he says, feigning intrigue, not that he would need to fake it. "New photos, huh?"

He watches you from the corner of his eye as you join him in the kitchen, the mention of Superman stirring something within him.

You lean against the counter, your eyes locked on the screen. “Mm, it smells good.” you murmur, setting your phone down and looking at the food he’s prepared, your mouth nearly watering at the sight.

"Thanks." Clark replies, a proud smile spreading across his face as he watches you eye the dish with appreciation. He glances in the direction of the screen, seeing a glimpse of the photos of Superman before returning his focus to you.

"Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells." He teases, scooping up a spoonful of the food from the pan and offering it for you to taste.

You eagerly open your mouth, holding onto his wrist as you taste the flavor, you let out a satisfied noise. “It’s really good, like really good.”

Clark can't help but chuckle at the sound you make while tasting the food, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you hold onto his wrist. 

"I'm glad you like it." He says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I put a little extra love into it just for you."

He scoops up some more food and offers it again, watching your reaction intently.

You step closer, taking the spoon into your mouth again, enjoying the way he’s feeding you small bites. “I should hire you as my private chef.” You sigh, licking your lips as you look at the pot.

"Careful, I might take you up on that offer." Clark replies, his eyes following the movement of your tongue as it licks your lips. 

He sets the spoon down, then leans against the counter next to you, his arm casually resting next to yours. "Just imagine me cooking for you every night." He muses, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Sounds like heaven to me.” You grin at him, reaching for your phone as the screen lights up.

"Heaven, huh?" Clark muses, he glances at the lit-up screen, the photo of Superman once again catching his eye. He clears his throat, trying to keep his composure. "So, uh, what's so special about these new photos anyway?"

“You can see all of his muscles..” you murmur, eyes fixated on the photos. “I mean they’re such high quality, just look.” You show him the screen, your cheeks flushed a slight pink.

Clark swallows the words and the photos you show him causing a stirring within him. He struggles to keep his expression neutral as his eyes flick between the screen and you.

"Yeah, they're really uh, really high quality." He clears his throat, his eyes lingering on the image, specifically the muscles you mentioned. "You really like this guy, don't you?"

You nod, turning your phone off and slipping it into your back pocket. “I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to meet him..” you shiver at the thought.

Clark's heart flutters at your words, a mix of guilt and amusement playing within him. He can't help but wonder what your reaction would be if you knew the truth.

"Meet him, huh?" He remarks, his voice low and a touch hesitant. "What would you even do if you ever met him?"

“I can think of a couple things,” you reply suggestively, wiggling your eyebrows for further effect.

Clark blushes slightly at your suggestive reply, a mix of flustered surprise and amusement on his face. He glances away for a moment, trying to regain his composure. 

"A couple things, huh?" he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I doubt the Man of Steel has time for...whatever it is you're thinking."

“Every man has time for..” you grin, “What I’m thinking of.” Clark's blush deepens at your response, his heart skipping a beat. 

He scratches the back of his head, trying to remain cool and collected, though he can't entirely hide the effect your words have on him.

"Uh, yeah, well," he stammers, a bit of nervous energy in his voice. "I'm sure the Man of Steel has much bigger priorities than...meeting fans and fulfilling...fantasies."

“Maybe.. Or maybe he has all the time for his eager fangirls.” You pull your hair into a ponytail, slyly exposing your nape to him as you notice how flustered he's becoming.

A wave of heat washes over Clark as you expose your nape to him, and he struggles to keep his composure. His eyes linger on the exposed skin for a moment, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of desire and restraint.

"Eager fangirls, huh?" he teases, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "You certainly seem eager enough."

You giggle, watching as he turns off the stove. “I do, don’t I?”

Clark tries to ignore the way your giggle sends a shiver down his spine, turning his attention back to the stove instead. He swallows hard, desperately trying to keep his mind from wandering.

"You certainly do," he replies, his voice slightly strained. "And I have a feeling you're pretty relentless too."

“You know it.” Your grin grows as he plates the food, grabbing both in his hands as he leads you back to the living room. Clark balances the plates as he moves, he places them on the coffee table, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way your grin makes his heart race.

"Should we watch something? A movie perhaps?” he clears his throat as he changes the topic.

“Mm.. yeah, you pick what we watch.” You settle on the floor in front of the couch, your back pressing against his knee.

Clark can't help but savor the feeling of your back against his knee, a mix of contentment and desire swirling within him. He grabs the remote, flipping through possible options but not really paying attention, his mind too preoccupied with the proximity of you and your intoxicating scent.

"How about, uh..." He struggles to think of a suitable movie as he glances down at you, his heart rate increasing. "How about that one?" he points to a movie at random.

“Sounds good.” You agree, focused on the food in front of you.

Clark tries to focus on the movie as it plays, but his attention is constantly drawn to you, the way you sit, the way you eat, the way your scent fills the air. Every little detail seems to distract him.

As the movie progresses, he finds himself inching closer to you, his knee pressing more firmly against your back. He tries to act nonchalant, hoping you don't notice his increasing closeness.

As you finish your food, you lean back against his leg further, playing on your phone. “You know, I’ve been thinking..”

Clark stiffens slightly as you lean back further against his leg, the feeling sending a thrill through him. He tries to remain nonchalant as he responds.

"Thinking? About what?" He glances down at you, his eyes flicking to your phone before meeting the back of your head again.

“You’re a reporter.” You begin, turning to look at him. “If you ever met Superman, would you tell him about me? Put in a good word..” you’re hoping that prompting him might reveal his secret.

A pang of guilt hits Clark at your question, but he forces a smile, trying to maintain composure. He knows the truth, that he *is* Superman, but hearing you talk about him like that, asking him to put in a good word...it's both endearing and painful. 

"I...uh, yeah, sure." he says, his voice a bit strained. "If I ever met him...I'd definitely mention you."

“You’re such a good friend.” You smile, turning your attention back toward the tv though your mind is obscured with disappointment.

As you turn your focus back to the TV, Clark lets out a shaky exhale, the words "good friend" stinging a little more than he expected. He remains silent for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

He glances down at you, the mixture of guilt and affection swirling inside him. He can't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out the truth.

You reach for your wine glass, taking a small drink of the crimson liquid. Clark watches as you take a sip, the way your lips touch the glass making his heart skip a beat. He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to reach out and touch your face, your hair, anything.

"You, uh, like the wine?" he asks, trying to keep his mind from wandering.

“It’s actually really good, I usually hate wine.” You reply, “Where did you get it?”

Clark watches you take another sip, a hint of surprise on his face at your admission. He glances over at the half-empty bottle on the coffee table.

"Oh, it's from a small vineyard in Italy.” he answers, trying to keep his voice casual. "A friend gave it to me, said it was a special blend. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, actually.”

His eyes linger on you once more, the sight of you drinking the wine stirring something within him.

“Then why did you waste it?” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to look at him, confusion painted on your face.

Clark’s heart flutters slightly at your question, a mix of surprise and affection coursing through him. He tries to maintain his composure as he speaks.

“W-waste it?” he repeats, his voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t think sharing it with a...a friend is a waste.” His eyes meet yours, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as he wonders if you can see through his facade.

“But it’s not particularly a *special* occasion, is it?” You cock your head to the side, shifting your body to face him.

Clark swallows, feeling your gaze on him as you turn to face him fully. He can see the curiosity in your eyes, the subtle hint in your question.

“I...I suppose not.” he admits, his voice soft. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.” He studies your face, his heart racing as he wonders if you suspect something.

You narrow your eyes at him, scanning his features. “Clark..”

Clark feels a hint of alarm as you narrow your eyes, your gaze intense as you seem to be studying him. He can sense your suspicion, and it makes his heart race even faster.

“Y-yes?” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t quite hide the nervousness that’s beginning to show.

“You look..” you lean closer, eyes glued to his every movement. “You really do look a lot like him.” biting down on your lip as you rest your hands on his knees. 

Clark’s heart stutters at your words, his breath catching in his throat. He tries desperately to maintain eye contact, but he can feel his resolve slipping away under your intense gaze.

“Like who?” he stutters, knowing full well you’re talking about Superman.

“You know who,” you roll your eyes at his response, leaning closer to peel his glasses off his face, your fingers brush over his cheekbones. Warmth pools in your stomach as you consider the consequences of pushing him any further. 

Clark's eyes widen as you reach for his glasses, he swallows hard, feeling a mix of panic and anticipation. He knows he should stop you, but he can't bring himself to move as you draw closer.

You fold them up and set them on the coffee table behind you. “You’re really handsome.” You murmur under your breath as you gaze up at him from your position on the floor, hands itching to touch his skin once again.

Clark's breath hitches at your compliment, his heart fluttering as he takes in your words and your proximity. He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as you look up at him, the mix of nervousness and desire swirling within him like a tempest.

He can't help but respond, his voice barely above a whisper. "You..you think so?" He reaches out, catching a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it around his forefinger. 

“Of course.” You smile, leaning your elbows on his knees. “Clark, we don’t have any secrets between us do we?” your breath seems to get caught in your throat, dropping hints isn’t working anymore, you’ll have to be more direct with him. 

Clark tries desperately to push down the panic that rises in his chest at your question. He knows he should say something, anything, but the words get stuck in his throat.

His gaze flicks around the room, trying to find anything other than your eyes to focus on, but it's no use. He can feel your expectation, the way you're searching for the truth. He glances down at you again, the sight of you leaning on his knees making his heart flutter,

"N-no," he stutters, his voice strained. "No secrets."

You can tell he’s not being truthful, your expression faltering. “You’re lying.”

Clark swallows hard, the wave of guilt that washes over him nearly overwhelming. He can see the disappointment in your face, the way your expression falters, and it guts him.

He can't keep lying to you, not like this. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze, his voice small.

"I...I am." he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What is it you’re hiding?” You murmur, eyes locked on his beautiful blue ones.

Clark can feel his facade collapsing with each passing second. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks back at you, your gaze intense and searching. He can almost feel the truth on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst out.

“You can tell me anything.. Clark, we’re friends.” You move to sit next to him on the couch.

Clark takes a deep breath as you move closer, sitting next to him on the couch. The feeling of your proximity, the warmth of your body next to him, it's both a comfort and a source of anxiety.

He gazes at you, his eyes betraying the mixture of emotions raging inside him. He wants to tell you, to share this secret, but he's also terrified of how you'll react when you find out you’ve been crushing on him. You place your palm on his leg, offering some comfort.

Clark feels your hand on his leg, the touch sending a wave of warmth through him, calming his nerves slightly, but not enough to quiet his worries.

"I..." he begins, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know how to say this, but..." He takes another deep breath, his voice soft, low, and filled with trepidation. "I'm Superman."

“I knew it!” You gasp, eyes widened as you straighten up next to him.

Clark's eyes widen at your exclamation, the suddenness and volume of your voice taking him aback. He hadn't expected such an immediate reaction, let alone you to believe him so readily. He watches as you straighten up next to him, a mix of surprise and relief washing over him. 

"Y-you did?" he stutters, his heart still racing.

“I mean of course, I’ve had my suspicions. Every time I speak of Superman it makes you turn pink.” You tease him lightly.

Clark feels his cheeks flush with color at your statement, the truth of your words hitting him hard. He blushes even more red as a result, the heat in his face growing in intensity.

He glances at you, a mix of embarrassment and relief in his expression. "I, uh, I didn't think it was that obvious," he mutters, his voice sheepish.

“Only because I know you so well.” You grin proudly. “But, I have another question for you.”

Clark can't help but feel a pang of affection as you grin at him, your confidence and familiarity with him making his heart flutter. He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Ask me anything," he says, his voice slightly more relaxed now that the secret is out.

“Does the man of steel really not have time for one of his fans?” You bite down on your lip.

Clark's heart stutters at your words, the change in your tone sending a wave of desire through him. He can feel his own heart rate spike as you bite down on your lip, your eyes filled with a mixture of teasing and want.

He sucks in a breath, his voice slightly hoarse as he manages a response.

"The man of steel has plenty of time for his...biggest fan."

“Biggest fan hm?” You question, sliding onto his lap and straddling his hips.

Clark's breath catches in his throat as you slide onto his lap, your body settling on top of him. He swallows hard, his heart racing as he looks up at you, your face so close to his he can almost taste your breath.

He places his hands tentatively on your hips, his fingers gently gripping the fabric of your clothes as he responds, his voice thick with desire. "The biggest. And the most beautiful."

“Clark..” you lean down, nose brushing against his. “Can I kiss you?”

Clark can feel your breath on his skin as you lean down, your nose brushing against his. His heart hammers in his chest, the sound of your voice sending a wave of anticipation through him. He gazes up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration. 

"Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Please...kiss me."

You cup his face, fingers dancing over his skin as you connect your lips softly.

Clark's eyes flutter shut as you cup his face, your fingers tracing gentle paths on his skin. The softness of your touch ignites a fire within him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that's both gentle and passionate.

He lets out a soft moan, his hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

The kiss quickly turns hungry, your lips part to let his tongue in. Your body is pressed flush against him, hands tangling in his hair as you tug on the roots gently.

Clark's tongue explores your mouth with a hunger that takes him by surprise. He tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you closer against him, his body reacting to every move you make.

He lets out a low moan as you tug on his hair, the feeling sending a wave of pleasure through him. He responds by biting your lip gently, his hands slowly caressing the skin of your back.

You pull away for a breath, Clark's chest heaves as you pull away, his eyes opening slowly to take in the sight of you. Your lips, swollen and glistening from the kiss, make his heart stutter, the need to kiss you again almost overpowering.

He gazes at you in awe for a moment, his breathing ragged, before speaking, his voice slightly hoarse.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his hands still holding you close.

“I think I have some idea,” You tease, glancing down at the tent growing in his slacks. “I can feel it, you know.”

Clark follows your gaze, his heart skipping a beat as he sees the effect your presence has on him. He swallows hard, his eyes darting back up to meet yours, a mixture of embarrassment and desire playing across his face.

He responds, his voice low, his fingers gently caressing your hip.

"That's...that's all your fault," he says, his words laced with a hint of accusation and appreciation.

“My fault?” Your hand begins to trail down his chest. “Then I guess I should take responsibility, take care of it.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss his neck.

Clark's breath hitches as your hand trails down his chest, his heart rate quickening in anticipation. Your touch is fire on his skin, igniting every nerve.

He groans softly as you lean forward to kiss his neck, his head tilting to give you better access. Your words and the feeling of your lips on his skin send a wave of desire through him, his body reacting to your touch.

"Responsibility, huh?" he manages to reply, his voice strained. "I like the sound of that."

“I can finally do what I’ve been dreaming of doing to you..” you whisper into his ear, your hand finally making contact with his erection.

Clark's breath hitches at your words, the sound of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean in closer, your hand finally making contact with his hardness.

He lets out a low moan, his body responding to your touch with an intensity he's never felt before. "Oh fuck..." He looks at you with hooded eyes, his voice thick with need. 

You reach for his shirt, pulling it off of him. “Holy shit, Clark.” Your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you stare.

Clark feels a wave of heat as you pull his shirt off, the air cool against his skin. He watches as your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, the look of desire in your eyes making his heart race.

He knows how strong he is, how powerful his body is. But hearing your reaction, seeing the effect he has on you, it's something else entirely.

"You like what you see?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice, his muscles flexing under your gaze.

You lean forward, kissing his chest. “You have no idea.” You mutter, fingers trailing over each muscle as your other hand continues to massage his clothed hardness.

Clark's breath catches in his throat, his body reacting to your touch, your kisses on his chest sending waves of pleasure through him. He can't help but arch into your touch, his muscles responding to your caress.

He lets out a low moan, his voice strained as he speaks, "Oh God...keep doing that..." He's lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.

Clark's breath catches in his throat as your kisses move lower and lower down his stomach, each touch sending a wave of pleasure through him. He gasps as your tongue teases over his abs, his eyes watching your every move.

His hands grip the edge of the couch as you work on his belt, his desire for you growing with each second. He lifts his hips slightly to help you remove his pants, the feeling of your hands on him almost too much to bear.

Once his pants and boxers are removed, he's left naked in front of you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread apart. He gazes at you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

He's completely under your spell, his entire being focused on you and only you. "Come here." He reaches for you, his voice soft and needy. 

You bring your lips to his once again, the kiss passionate and hungry. Clark responds to your passionate kiss with a fervor of his own, pulling you closer against his body, his hands roaming over your back, your hips, everywhere he can reach. He's lost in the kiss, in the feeling of your body against his.

He can't get enough of you, his need for you growing with every passing second. He moans softly into your mouth, his body reacting to your touch, his hard length pressed against your thigh.

You reach to grasp his erection, his thick cock barely fitting in your grasp. You begin to move your hand, slowly jerking him off as the kiss becomes more intense.

You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, your eyes hooded in desire. “You’re huge..”

Clark's breath catches at your words, the praise sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your hand on him, stroking him slowly, the feeling overwhelming yet perfect.

“It’s perfect.. you’re perfect.” You slip off of his lap, settling between his muscular thighs.

Clark's heart flutters at your words, affection washing over him. He watches you move down between his thighs, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you so close to his cock. He reaches down, gently running his fingers through your hair, his voice soft but filled with need.

"I could say the same about you," he says, his eyes meeting yours, his body alive with anticipation. "You're...you're incredible."

You lean in closer, wrapping your soft lips around the head of his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as you taste the salty sweetness of his precum. The room is filled with the sounds of your gentle slurps and Clark's moans of pleasure. 

Your hand grips the base firmly, stroking in sync with your mouth as you take more and more of him in, inch by glorious inch. You feel him swell in your grip, the veins pulsing with his excitement. 

You moan around him, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your pace as your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive spot beneath the head. 

You look up at him through hooded eyes, watching his reaction as you deepthroat him, his face a mask of pure ecstasy. The intimacy of the moment is intoxicating, both of you lost in the sensual dance of your mouth and his cock, the tension building as the pleasure crescendos.

With every bob of your head, Clark's moans become louder, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you is palpable, the intimacy of the moment amplifying every sensation. 

His cock grows in your mouth, the taste of him driving you wild. You savor the feeling of his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, the power of his grip speaking to your desire. His eyes, filled with lust and admiration, bore into yours, creating a silent conversation of pleasure that needs no words. 

Your tongue laps at his shaft, tracing the veins that stand out against his skin, your mouth creating a warm, wet heaven around his length. Each stroke, each suck, each flick of your tongue is a declaration of your adoration, a silent promise to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and back again. 

The room feels like it's spinning around you, the air thick with passion as you both give into the carnality of the act. Your cheeks hollow with the effort of taking him so deep, but it's a challenge you eagerly accept, the thrill of his pleasure reflected in every whimper that passes your lips.

You continue to worship him with your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. The way his hips buck slightly with each deep throat, the way his abs tighten as he holds back, it's all driving you crazy. The sound of his breath hitching and his fingers tightening in your hair sends a thrill through you, making your pussy throb with need. 

You moan around him, the vibrations echoing along his length, and he can't help but thrust a little deeper into your welcoming heat. The taste of him, the feel of him, it's all you can focus on as you give him the blowjob of his life, eager to show him just how much he means to you, to show him the depth of your desire. 

You feel the tension in his body building, the way his thighs tense around you, and you know he's close. The air in the room crackles with energy, the heat from both your bodies blending into an intoxicating cloud of lust. 

You don't stop, you can't stop, you want him to remember this moment, to feel the intensity of your passion every time he thinks of you. 

You continue to devour him with your mouth, your eyes locked onto his, which are filled with a mix of disbelief and pure bliss. The connection between you is electric, your every movement a silent testament to the desire that's been simmering beneath the surface. 

Each time your lips meet the base of his cock, you can feel his thighs tense against your cheeks, and the soft groan that escapes from his lips sends shivers down your spine. You're both drowning in the intensity of the moment, your hearts pounding in time with the rhythm of your mouth and his hips. 

You can feel him swelling even more, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to this peak sends a thrill through you. You suck harder, faster, each motion a silent plea for him to let go. And when he does, with a final, desperate thrust into your throat, the salty warmth of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow eagerly, relishing the proof of his pleasure. 

You pull back slowly, licking your lips, watching as he comes down from the high with a sigh of satisfaction. The air is thick with the scent of sex and love, and it's all you can do to not climb onto him and feel him deep inside you, to complete this perfect moment.

Clark pulls you to him, his lip moving to your neck as he gently slides his hand under your skirt. The fabric whispers against your skin as he reaches for the waistband of your panties, his touch sending shockwaves through your body. His fingertips graze over the soft fabric before he hooks it with his thumbs, pulling them down slowly. 

His eyes never leave yours, filled with love and a desperate need to feel all of you. As the last of your barriers fall away, his erection pressed against your bare thigh, hot and demanding. His hands caress your skin as if it were the most precious thing in the world, his kisses trailing down to your collarbone, each one a promise of the passion to come. 

The air is charged with anticipation, your hearts beating in sync as you both give in to the intensity of your desires. He lifts you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if he never wants to let you go. You can feel the head of his cock nudging at your wet entrance, begging for more, but he takes his time, kissing you deeply and savoring the moment. 

His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in time with the rhythm of your kisses, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. The room is a whirlwind of passion and love as you both succumb to the depth of your feelings, the promise of ultimate intimacy just a breath away.

Clark's hands hold your hips as he guides you down onto his cock, the thickness of him stretching you open as you moan with pleasure. He's gentle, so gentle, as he makes love to you, each thrust coming slow and steady, as if he's savoring every moment. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in a firm but tender rhythm that sends electric jolts through your body. 

You lean back, gripping onto the couch cushions as he fills you completely, the sensation of his warmth and size overwhelming your senses. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you growing stronger with each shared breath. Each stroke of his thumb sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and your moans become more desperate, your body begging for release. 

His own breathing becomes more ragged, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you come apart in his arms. The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the perfect harmony of love and passion.

Clark’s eyes bore into you as he carefully guides his cock inside you, his movements tender and deliberate. The way you straddle him, the way your pussy clenches around him, it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. His thumb continues its delicate dance on your clit, his touch a masterpiece of passion. 

Your eyes are glazed with lust, your breath coming in short, needy gasps as he takes you higher and higher. Each stroke is a declaration of his love, a promise of the intensity to come. Your moans become louder, your body moving with his in a rhythm that feels like it's been written in the stars. 

His thumb presses harder, his hips moving faster, and you feel the first tremors of your orgasm beginning to build. The tension in the room is palpable, each touch a spark that ignites the bonfire of desire within you both. You lean into him, your breasts brushing against his chest, your body craving the closeness that only he can provide. 

The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the air, a testament to the love you share. You're both lost in the moment, in the symphony of your bodies, and the crescendo is just within reach. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you get closer, your breathing shallow and erratic. 

And when the climax hits, it's like a supernova, explosive and all-consuming, leaving you both gasping for air. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a balm to your soul as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

[girlkisser13]

being married to clark kent would include

• at first, he doesn’t want to reveal his identity to you, even though he feels he can trust you. however, he’s concerned that knowing who he really is might put you in danger.

• once you convince him that you’re willing to accept the risks and show him how much you care, the last of his walls come down. you’re stuck with him forever now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

• your wedding ceremony was lovely. there was a special moment when he used his heat vision to create a heart-shaped firework display in the sky as a surprise for you.

• becoming one of the few people who sees him for who he wants to be, not just who the world needs him to be.

• clark is incredibly gentle with you, always careful with his strength. he holds you close, gives you soft kisses, and makes sure you always feel safe in his arms.

• life with clark is never boring. whether he's saving the world or just helping out around the house, there's always a sense of excitement and adventure in your relationship.

• when it’s a quiet summer afternoon he’ll take you flying just before sunset, he’ll go right above the clouds so you can see what he gets to see.

• he loves the simple things in life— like spending a quiet evening with you at home, enjoying a homemade meal, or taking walks around metropolis.

• clark’s abilities come in handy for everyday tasks. whether it’s lifting heavy furniture, flying you to a special date, or simply speeding through chores, he always makes life a little easier.

• he likes to be touching you when you’re near— whether it’s a hand on your waist, his pinky brushing against yours, or his knee pressed next to yours when you’re sitting together.

• his love languages are acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch. he loves doing things for the people close to him. this includes taking out your trash, watering your plants, making your bed, putting on a pot of coffee in the morning, and fixing any holes in your clothes.

• finding out that clark was superman was not that surprising, but you were taken back when you learned his dog was also an alien. not that it stopped you from spoiling him with toys and treats and anything else his k-9 heart desired.

• there’s always a part of you that worries about him when he’s out saving the world. but he’s always reassuring you that he’ll always come back to you.

• despite his busy life, clark always makes time for quiet moments with you. whether it's reading together, watching the stars, or just enjoying each other's company, he cherishes these moments when it’s just the two of you.

• clark loves surprising you with spontaneous date nights. sometimes he’ll whisk you away to a remote, beautiful location for a romantic evening, using his super speed to make it feel like you’re the only two people in the world.

• TRACING HIS FAMILY CREST ON HIS CHEST WHEN YOU’RE LAYING ON HIS CHEST>>>

• you’ve had to adapt to living with someone who has super senses. you’ve learned how to whisper secrets to him, even in a crowded room, and you appreciate how he’s always attuned to your needs, often before you even realize them yourself.

• sometimes when the two of you are late for work he’ll fly you both there.

• seeing something solar powered and never missing the opportunity to say, "oh look, it gets its power from a yellow sun just like you, honey!"

• he rolls his eyes, but secretly he loves it.

• you love both sides of him— the farm boy from smallville and the alien hero who saves the world. he never has to pretend or hide who he is with you, and that freedom to be himself is why he’s so enamored by you. <33

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 2: Caught on Camera

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Fandom: Women's basketball

Paring: Paige Bueckers x ! Photographer fem reader

Summary: is this thing still on?... I hope not....

Welcome to chapter 2 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸... if you wanna be added to the tag list let me know!

Avoidance was becoming a bad habit of mine. After the incident with Paige and my shattered camera turned into an internet meme, I couldn’t bring myself to face her—or the team, for that matter. Every social media platform I opened featured the clip: Paige’s epic block, the ball ricocheting, and the destruction of my beloved camera. People had even started adding exaggerated sound effects and captions like, "When life hits you hard…literally."

To make matters worse, Paige addressed the incident during a post-game interview, her sheepish smile making me squirm every time I replayed it in my mind.

“It was an accident,” she had said, laughing softly. “I feel really bad about it. Y/N’s an amazing photographer, and I hope I haven’t scared her off for good.”

Her words made my chest ache, but I still avoided the team practices. I stuck to photographing games with my new camera, keeping my distance from the players—especially Paige.

That’s where KK came in.

“Y/N, you can’t avoid us forever,” KK said, sliding into the seat beside me in class one afternoon. Her tone was light, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes that I didn’t trust.

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” I replied defensively, keeping my gaze on my notes.

“Right,” KK said with a smirk. “That’s why you haven’t shown up to practice all week.”

I sighed, slumping in my chair. “It’s just… easier this way.”

KK rolled her eyes. “You know Paige feels terrible, right? She keeps asking about you.”

My stomach flipped, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. “I’m fine. She doesn’t have to worry about me.”

KK didn’t say anything for a moment, and I thought I’d won the argument—until she spoke again, her voice casual.

“Hey, can you stop by the gym tonight? Coach wants to see some of the practice shots you’ve taken for the project.”

I frowned, suspicious. “Coach? Why would he need to see them now?”

KK shrugged, her expression unreadable. “I don’t make the rules. Just swing by, okay?”

That’s how I found myself at the gym later that evening, camera in hand. The space was eerily quiet, the faint hum of the overhead lights the only sound as I stepped inside.

“Coach?” I called out, my voice echoing.

Instead of Coach, Paige emerged from the shadows, her expression a mix of surprise and apprehension.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice soft.

I froze, my grip tightening on my camera. “Paige? What are you doing here?”

Before she could answer, the gym doors slammed shut behind me, and I turned to see KK waving through the glass window with a wide grin.

“You two need to talk,” KK shouted, her voice muffled by the door. “I’ll let you out in the morning!”

“KK!” I yelled, rushing to the door, but it was locked tight.

Paige let out a small laugh, drawing my attention back to her. “Well, I guess we’re stuck together.”

After a few minutes of awkward silence, I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. When I returned, Paige was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the court, my camera in her hands.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Paige glanced up at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I figured I’d record something for you. An apology, I guess.”

Before I could respond, she pressed a button, and the red recording light blinked off—at least, I thought it did.

“Can we talk?” Paige asked, setting the camera aside.

I hesitated before nodding, taking a seat across from her.

“I’m sorry,” she began, her voice sincere. “About your camera, about everything. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I know,” I said quietly, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “It’s just… hard. That camera meant a lot to me, and now everyone’s laughing about it like it’s some big joke.”

Paige’s expression softened, and she scooted closer, her knee brushing against mine. “I get it. I’d hate being the center of a meme, too. But you’re more than that clip, Y/N. Your work is incredible, and I’ve seen the way you capture the game—like you see things the rest of us miss.”

Her words made my chest tighten, and I looked away, feeling vulnerable under her gaze.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.

Paige reached out, her hand resting lightly on mine. “I mean it. You’re amazing.”

I glanced up, meeting her eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed

to fade away. Her gaze was steady and warm, filled with an honesty that made my heart stutter.

“Paige…” I started, but my voice faltered.

She gave me a small, lopsided smile, her fingers brushing over mine. “I know I messed up, but I want to make it right. Not just with the camera—but with you. Can we… start over?”

I hesitated, the weight of everything between us making it hard to breathe. But then I saw the earnestness in her expression, the vulnerability she rarely let show.

“Okay,” I said softly, nodding. “We can start over.”

A small laugh escaped her, almost a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I really don’t want you avoiding me anymore.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” I lied, though we both knew the truth.

She smirked, leaning back slightly. “Right. You just conveniently disappeared every time I was around?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Fine, maybe I was avoiding you. But only because I didn’t know how to face you after everything.”

“Well,” Paige said, tilting her head, “now you’re stuck with me until KK decides to let us out. So, no more avoiding.”

I chuckled, the tension between us easing slightly. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

We spent the next few hours talking—about basketball, photography, school, and everything in between. Paige was easy to talk to, her laugh infectious and her stories captivating. For the first time in weeks, I felt at ease.

At some point, exhaustion caught up to us, and we ended up lying on the court, our heads close together as we stared up at the ceiling.

“Do you ever think about what’s next?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Paige turned her head to look at me, her expression thoughtful. “All the time. The WNBA feels so close, but at the same time, I’m scared of what it means to leave everything here behind.”

I nodded, understanding her fear. “Change is scary. But you’ll do amazing—you always do.”

Her gaze lingered on me, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” I replied, my words steady.

We fell into a comfortable silence, and before I knew it, I drifted off, the warmth of Paige’s presence lulling me to sleep.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of muffled laughter. Blinking against the light, I realized Paige and I were still lying on the court, her arm draped over me in a way that felt impossibly natural.

“What do we have here?” KK’s voice rang out, teasing and triumphant.

I sat up quickly, my face burning as I saw KK and Azzi standing near the gym doors, their grins wide and mischievous.

“Did you two have a good night?” Azzi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Paige groaned, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. “Seriously, KK? Was this really necessary?”

KK shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Hey, you two needed to work things out. Mission accomplished, right?”

I glanced at Paige, my embarrassment fading slightly as she gave me a small, knowing smile.

“Yeah,” she said, her tone light but sincere. “Mission accomplished.”

As we stood to leave, I grabbed my camera from where it had been resting on the sidelines. A sinking feeling hit me when I noticed the recording light still blinking.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, quickly stopping the recording.

Paige looked over, her eyes widening as realization dawned. “Wait… was that on the whole time?”

I nodded, mortified.

KK burst out laughing. “Guess we’re gonna have some very interesting footage to review!”

Paige and I exchanged a look, equal parts embarrassed and amused. Maybe this wasn’t the worst way to start over after all.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza .... (more to be added)

[happypeachsludgeflower]

I keep seeing posts about Jinlan City fix its, where either Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu starts bawling and it solves the whole issue. But hear me out, what if they both start crying. Just start bawling together, clinging to each other as they sob. And they’re just sitting there in front of Huan Hua Palace disciples crying their eyes out. cuddling, and Shen Qingqiu is petting Luo Binghe’s head and Luo Binghe is getting snot all over Shen Qingqiu’s robes, and everyone else is just like “???” because this is NOT how they thought this day was going to go.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"TASTE SWEET AND LAST SO LONG~"

SYNOPSIS: it’s been a while since you and Kon had some alone time. His missions seem to be happening every day, and he's gone for two to three business days. But at least you finally have him alone for now.

Young Justice has been holding her boyfriend captive for far too long; this weekend, he's going to spend time with you and you alone. They already have a bunch of heroes at your disposal no need for him to go off to Nicaragua to do who knows what. Finally, you're both alone on his bed, his hands on your waist, pulling you closer even though you are already pressed flush against his body. You're giggling like a schoolgirl against his lips, noticing the small pink blush on his face that reaches up to his ears. God, you're in love.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" You say, giggling, as you gaze into his ocean-blue eyes, which seem to glow brighter the more you look at him. He laughs softly against your lips. "Can't I look at you?"

"No, you can't," you respond, with the smallest snicker in the back of your throat."Supposed to be enamored with me,"

"But I am," he answered cheekily, causing you both to start giggling. God, this is so cheesy and cringey, but when you're doing this, Conner, it feels romantic, even if you're in your messy room. as vulgar music plays in the background. You can barely hear the song that was playing; heartbeats and chuckles drown out the music. You both press small kisses against each other's lips. Conner pulls you himless into nipping and sucking on your bottom lip.

"You're such a perv!" You try to act disgusted, but there's a big grin on your face, and you have the cutest dark blush on your cheeks.

"I'm not a perv!" He protest, pulling back from him.

"If anyone's a perv, you're the one who’s the perv here, little freak," he smirked, going in for another kiss.

"Really? So I'm the freak ? I don't think you deserve another kiss," you teased, pulling yourself to the edge of his bed, making him get closer.

"Oh, come on, babe, that's not fair," he whined, pouting.

"It's fair to me," you reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

"No way, that's not fair!" He moved closer.

"Yes, way!" You pulled back even further.

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh."

Connor huffed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and his hand went right back to your hips, where they belonged.

"You're mean," Connor's pout grows as he presses his forehead against yours.

"I'm not mean," you say, as your hand drops to his back, stroking his spine.

"You're so mean, pulling away and teasing me. Can I at least have a kiss? That's borderline torture."

That makes you laugh? "You're telling me a superhero clown can't handle a little teasing?"

"You're getting too soft," you said with a snarky grin.

"Yeah, so what?" he answered. "It's only for you; it's all for you."

"Yeah?" you asked.

"Yeah," he answered.

"I'm just like that." He was on top of you, lips pressed against yours in a heated kiss.

"Konnie, what are you doing?" You immediately jumped away from Conner, your eyes widening; your whole body was shocked and surprised as he fell onto his bed. Just then, you saw Jon standing right in front of you both with a Wii remote in his hand; he looked absolutely confused. Thank God.

He's looking down at Connor with a raised eyebrow, seeing his older brother upside down on the floor. He looks up to see you and frowns. "You had a [Name] here, and you didn't even tell me!" he says, with the biggest pout on his lips. "That's not fair; you're hogging them all to yourself!"

You know your boyfriend is still in shock, breathing hard. You don't know if it's from anger or if he was just scared to death by John. He gets onto Connor's bed, wrapping his arms around you.

"It's not fair! This is the second time [Name] comes over, and you don't even tell me!" He's upset, and you're completely embarrassed, covering your face with your locs.

Connor said, "Get out!" Now you can see the rage in his eyes. "What are you doing in here? The door was locked," he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Jon just stuck his tongue out. "Ma said there's no such thing as locked doors," he answered snarkily.

John snuggles into your chest, and Connor's rage intensifies. His face is red, whether from embarrassment or anger. "Jon, get out!" he shouts.

"No way!"

Now you have two superhumans over who gets to spend the Saturday with you! At least you got a kiss out of it!

[the-fyre-flie]

Overworked Clark x Overworked Bruce just passing out in each other's arms and being cute hehehe

-

When Clark got home to his apartment, he was met with a dark, lumpy shape in his bed, the shape breathing slowly as he put down his bags of groceries on the counter. He tried to be as quiet as possible he approached the dark mass, the lump moving slightly to reveal a face. A tired face with dark circles under the eyes.

"Hello, Bruce."

"Hhnh."

Bruce's cowl was abandoned on the floor, his cape draped over his body as he lay curled up in Clark's bed. He blinked up at Clark with tired eyes, the ramifications of his sleeping habits having caught up with him. He had broken into Clark's apartment and waited for the man to get home, seeking his comfort. And Clark was happy to give comfort.

Sliding into bed next to Bruce, Clark's hands gently undid the clasps of the cape and pulled it away, letting the thick fabric fall off the bed and pool onto the floor. Bruce's armor was quick to follow, tugged off and replaced with one of Clark's shirts. The eyeblack under Bruce's eyes was gentle wiped away, Clark's fingers stained blackish blue.

"You could have showered and changed before I got home." Clark scolded gently, running his hand through Bruce's greasy hair. He received a grunt in reply.

"I didn't want to." Bruce groaned, pressing his face into the crook of Clark's neck, breathing in the aliens scent. "I want to sleep."

"You could have slept without me." Clark continued, feeling as Bruce snuggled closer to him. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting warm orange hues across both of them.

"I didn't want to." Bruce repeated, his lips pressing against Clark's jaw. "I want to sleep with you."

[elssero]

OKAY ELS <3 i waited until the last day for this and ik i was gonna submit izuku but ............... can i have graveyard shift coworker shigs who youre not entirely too fond of but he likes bothering you bc it gets rlly boring and quiet at nights !! smau or written whichever ya like is fineee THANK YOU

graveflower

s.tomura

-the graveyard gets quiet and lonely at night- your there to keep him company.