#windows-and-doors-kent

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Wednesday 1 January 2025

Happy New Year!

Not all window boxes need flowers, here the home owner had used a great selection of Heuchera cultivars (coral bells) to provide winter interest. The neat, low mounds of foliage come in a wide range of bold colours. These herbaceous plants thrive in partial shade in moist but well drained growing media or soil.

Jill Raggett

[spookyscarywoodrow]

new young justice comic run but it’s all of their crimes catching up to them. oh, who’s that knocking on their door? space police. who’s that right next to them? magic police. who’s standing behind them? time police. who’s standing to the side of them? regular police. who’s standing behind all of them? you’ll never guess-

[visiondoorswindowsltd]

While if you’re looking for sliding patio doors, bi-folding doors or something from our wide range of composite doors for your London home — at Vision Doors and Windows we use our experience of the glazing industry to help find you the right option for you. In addition to the services listed above, we are also able to offer free, no-obligation quotations and expert advice. So please do get in touch to find out more. 

[venuslarkspur]

Teen Hero Shenanigans

Part 1

Jon My Love, There’s A New Batgirl.

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister, after arriving 3 years after your brother so you never excepted to take the Robin mantle, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place. Damian eventually returns and you are discharged from the role, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing the Batgirl. But your not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you. The main problem is the boyfriend in question is your brother’s best friend, Jon Kent.

Pairing: Just Jon Kent x Batsis!Reader on this one. Mentions of platonic Jason and reader.

Notes: it’s not proofread so I’m so sorry if there’s any mistakes 😭 - Please read the prologue if you haven’t already <3

Warnings: Undertones of Misogyny, mentions of Talia being overprotective, Teen Runaways.

Words: 1.4k

————————

You weren’t sure if you had heard your father right, all you knew right now is that you had to get as far away as possible. You ignored your father calling out to you and ran out that office, you felt your dinner coming up. You clenched your stomach and your mind relapsed. It brought back bad memories from your time with your grandfather, being pinned against Damian and being chosen as the inferior twin. That’s why you weren’t the heir, that’s why you weren’t Robin first. And that’s why your currently sprinting you way through the house, Cass had called out to you and you felt dreadful for ignoring her but you couldn’t take this right now. You were displaced, again.

Yet one thing led to another, and suddenly you were stood in the bat cave, staring at all the costumes behind the glass. There were so many, but only one caught your eye. Barbara’s purple and yellow Batgirl costume. Maybe it was the Lazarus Pit trauma talking but suddenly your picking up the nearest object and smashing the glass, suddenly your putting the costume on and grabbing your phone from your room. Suddenly you’re jumping out your window and hopping the fence; you wished you’d had at least told Jason or even Cass what your game was, but it’s not like there would be much explain; your instinct just acted for you. And it felt good to hop over buildings in costume and punching a few noses on the way, as of right now you were snapping off your boyfriend’s window lock, and your feet hit the ground with a creak. Jon wasn’t there but you looked at the time on your phone which read 18:05, he must of still been having dinner. So you waited for 5 minutes and in true Wayne family fashion sat there on his bed, reading one of his textbooks; until you heard footsteps outside the door but continued on reading.

The door opened and you sat up straight and met eyes with the person you’d hoped to see, “Y/n? Is that you?” Jon eyes widened, many questions floating around his head. You slipped the mask off and got up and met him, “We need to whisper, and shut the door please.” You tried to say as politely as possible, he got the message and gently shut the door. “I heard…so it’s true that Damian’s back.” He inferred as you led him to sit down with you on the bed, you sat down and took his hands in yours. “I was happy but judging by this costume, did Batman fire you?” You nodded at him and looked down in shame, but he quickly brought your chin back up. “He told me I was discharged, but I’m sure that’s just a gentler term for fired.” You sighed, and as mad as you felt you saw this as an opportunity to join his lips to yours for what might be the last time. You slowly moved in and connected your lips to his, he sensed the urgency and moved in as well but didn’t quite understand the rush.

You stayed that way for a while, but slowly moved away as he popped another question. “What’s actually wrong?” He asked and you felt bad because right now he looked like a sad puppy, but you couldn’t drag him down with you. Not to mention you had to be more careful with Damian’s return. “I’m sorry but I think I’m gonna tough it out on my own for a while.” You took your hands away from his and instantly missed the warmth. He looked at you as if you’d just told him his whole family died. “You’ve actually lost it if you think I’m letting you go off on your own.” He took his hands back into yours. “If think you need to do this- I’m not gonna act like I’m not happy about it but if I can’t stop you I’m gonna join you.” You both stay that way for a while, and reality sinks in at last. “I can’t let you, your parents won’t forgive me not to mention Damian will feel so betrayed I’m just not sure..” you whisper as if not wanting anything to change but it’s already too late, everything’s changed.

“Sorry Batgirl you can’t stop me, I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you, not to mention the wrath of your brothers, jeez..” He blushes and on a more serious note you accept his proposal. “Okay we can set up base at the outskirts I think, I know a place.” You stand up and reapply your mask, he follows and asks “Are you nervous?” You grin and if you could look at yourself right now you’d probably remind yourself of your twin brother. “Nope, nobody’s taking us down and if they try they won’t try and come back for another round.” You give him one last peck before sliding past the window sill again. “Gather what you need, speak to who you need, I’ll be on the rooftop when you’re ready.” You smile at each other before slipping onto the roof without a sound.

You made a point to ignore the countless notifications on your phone, only messaging Damian with an unhelpful “Im okay.”

————————

You knew just where you both wouldn’t be found, it probably would of been ideal to just ask to make your team but not only would that expose your relationship, it would also make family reunions really awkward. You weren’t really thinking at all, you knew a warehouse you could operate from for the time being. It was where you and Jason trained for a bit, you had fond memories of being taken for ice cream afterwards and a ride on the back of his bike. It was nice to have someone look out for you, so much effort went into training Damian when you were young children, your grandfather tried to believe in you but knew ultimately Damian would be the heir. Which created so many insecurities, well right now you weren’t much better running off with his friend but as you saw it you needed to pave your way as well.

Talia hadn’t even wanted you to leave, you had to run away to escape your overly pampered life; and it took Bruce insisting you stay to get her to return home; but she still promised you’d eventually return to her. As much as you had wanted to lecture her on her overly protective behaviour you also wanted her approval. Sure she would be happy you were rebelling against your father, but would she approve of you doing it this way? Would she approve of Jon? Who was currently flying you both to the warehouse. You wanted to be validated, and that you hated the most.

You didn’t feel like being alone tonight either, you knew there was an abandoned flat above the warehouse, but you and Jason had never gone up there. But you didn’t mind if it was a 1 bed situation, if anything it would help to have someone to hold. Worse case scenario you’re both found sharing a bed and your brothers will lose their shit. As long as you both are fully clothed at the time, nothing too bad should happen.

And it felt like the most natural thing ever, patrolling together, the thugs being confused and wondering when you two became an item. Turning them into the nearby police station, avoiding cctv and returning to your new makeshift home as if it was the most normal thing ever. You had set up your own mini crime alert on Jon’s laptop and found ways to charge your devices. You even managed to spruce up the warehouse and upstairs apartment a bit, thank goodness Jon was raised normally and knew how to cook because you couldn’t cook to save your life.

But naturally your respective families began to put the pieces together, and soon enough Oracle was watching.

Taglist: @waterwyne @venusmorning

(If you want to be added please let me know <3)

(Part 2 is out.)

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #32

My baby, you’re my baby.

Imagine dis…

You know, I have the songs Mitski - I Bet on Losing Dogs and Reba McEntire - I'm A Survivor.

So in memory of the ever ending loop finally dissappearing and now replaced with Wake up by Llunr… Here it goes…

…

In the heart of Gotham, The Teen Titans who are being led by Tim Drake (Robin), along with Conner Kent (Superboy), and Bart Allen (Kid Flash) are fighting a powerful magician. They had managed to hold their ground, but they were unable to pass the unending minions summoned by the magician, nor could they land a decent hit on the magician, who was fighting fire with fire. Knowing they needed magical ability, they asked Zatanna to handle the caster while they focused on the minions.

The air crackled with electricity as spells collided and blended in a frantic dance of light and power. Just as they were ready to gain the upper hand, two opposing spells from Zatanna and their opponent collided in what appeared to be a last-ditch attempt. A flood of raw, uncontrolled power surged toward them, wiping out the majority of the minions and now heading towards them, and before they could react, they were bathed in blinding light.

…

When the light went off, they found themselves in a completely dark room. Their senses heightened, and they stood alert, as all three of them wondered what the magic's effects would be. Light gradually appeared around them, presenting a scene that perplexed and concerned them.

A teenage male with dark hair stood in the center of the room, carrying a baby swaddled in a blue and star-printed blanket. The boy's eyes were sad and shiny, and his cheeks were swollen with unshed tears. He rocked the baby softly and sang a sweet tune. Surrounding him were walls and a small window that was too high and narrow for him to escape, but just right for a newborn baby.

On the other side of the window, another teen came this time with dirty blonde hair and freckles and bright green eyes. Crouching to look at the teen mentioned above, who is still humming as if in his little universe. He looked at the first teen, full of sadness and grief, and said, as no sound came from the scene, that it was time.

The dark-haired kid took a deep breath before pulling out a little necklace covered with snowflake decorations. He wrapped it around the baby's neck, his hands quivering. Tim automatically stroked the similar necklace that hung around his neck, disguised by the layers of clothes he wore.

Tim knew he was adopted; he had always known. He had always resembled his adoptive parents, Janet and Jack, making him the ideal heir to the Drakes. He had attempted to locate his biological parents but had only encountered dead ends. Now he understood he was seeing a long-forgotten memory.

The dark-haired teen gave the baby to the other kid, who cautiously reached through the window. As he did, Tim noticed the thick chains that shackled the dark-haired teen's body, blocking his escape. The boy stared at the infant one more time and mumbled something Tim couldn't hear.

The blonde teenager appears to convince the other teenager that he will find a suitable home for the baby he is currently carrying.

The dark-haired teen flashed a sorrowful smile and looked longingly at the baby, who was now struggling to wake up as if realizing that the person holding him was not his mom.

The blonde teen nodded and prepared his motorcycle, placing the baby who is now trying to have a crying feast in a sidecar alongside what appeared to be his dog with red eyes for further protection and sped off.

All three of them looked at the chained teen as he held his gaze to the vehicle up until it went smaller and smaller and until it vanished from his sight.

Just as they thought the scene was over they were immediately shattered as a large metal door that seemed to materialize behind them opened wide and out came walking someone they knew as they were already in the middle of investigating.

Vlad Masters

Someone who gained his wealth through mysterious ways that warrant an investigation as most of the deals are more favorable to Masters than to his so-called partners.

They saw Masters grab the teen roughly and began hissing through gritted teeth something, leaving bruises wherever he handled the chained teen.

The teen, on the other hand, seemed so detached, as if he completely removed himself from the present as he let Masters rough handle him.

…

Tim wanted to scream, to rage as both of his teammates were already holding him back from running towards something they know is something of the past.

That is his parent GODDAMMIT!, Tim raged in his mind, usually he would have been calm and collected, logical, and gathered the facts. But a single memory made all of his restraints snap.

All Tim ever wanted was to be loved, something he never received during his stay with the Drakes. Both Janet and Jack kept on mentioning how Tim should be grateful that he is the one chosen to stay under their roof with thousands of dollars at his fingertips.

But here he was watching something he was too young to remember, something that his head kept flashing.

The soft hum of a melody that he would sometimes hear deep within his mind as he tried to cry himself to sleep.

A single necklace is a connection between him and his biological parents.

Watching how helplessly his father was? Mother? Be abused, be chained down.

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t find a lead, Masters sent someone to handle the blonde teen who brought him to a nice orphanage before the Drake couple adopted him.

…

The scene faded as Tim, Conner, and Bart were brought back to reality. They awoke to find Zatanna watching over them, her expression filled with concern.

Zatanna said that they had been bound in a deep memory spell, which the magician had created to capture them in a recurrent memory, rendering them unable to discern between the memory and the real world. However, because she also sent out her counter, it only displayed a fleeting memory to stop them from ending up like Sleeping Beauty.

She chuckled as she glanced at them questioningly, hoping for the best, and thought they witnessed a memory that reminded them of a dark time during their hero times.

Tim sat up, still holding the necklace. He had observed a memory from his past that he had never known existed. It wasn't just a last-ditch attempt at a spell; it was a look into a long-held secret that he had forgotten.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[librababe99]

Gravity of You

cw: MDNI, 18+, Clark Kent, Fem!Reader, Friends to lovers, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) word count: 3.1K summary: In the quiet heart of Metropolis, there's more to Clark Kent than meets the eye—especially when it comes to the love he shares with you.

A/N: I’ve got a soft spot when it comes to Clark and just wanted to drop my own little fic into the tumblrsphere🤭 plus I’m so excited for the new movie next year! I really looking forward to seeing David as Superman <3

(DC masterlist)

It had been a quiet evening in Metropolis, the kind that clung to the final moments of summer, thick with the sweet fragrance of freshly cut grass and the distant hum of the city streets. The sky above shimmered with the last glow of twilight, fading into the velvet blue of early night. You had just finished work at the Daily Planet, shoulders heavy from the day's demands. But there was a gentle excitement bubbling under your skin because tonight, Clark was coming over.

He had been dropping hints all week about needing a quiet night together, just the two of you. And truthfully, after the nonstop churn of Metropolis, the idea of being alone with him was the only thing that had kept you going through the long, drawn-out workdays. The way his soft blue eyes would meet yours over the rim of his glasses, promising something far more intimate than words could convey—it was intoxicating.

As you stepped into your apartment, the warm glow of the setting sun bathed the living room in golden light. The soft cotton of your dress clung to your body as you walked toward the window, pulling it open to let the breeze in. The sound of traffic echoed faintly from below, but it was distant, barely there—just like the world would soon be when Clark was with you.

You turned on a few lamps, casting a dim, intimate glow throughout the space. A bottle of wine sat on the kitchen counter, breathing in the open air, and your favorite record was spinning softly on the turntable. Tonight was going to be special; you could feel it in the air.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door—firm, yet soft, as if the person on the other side was holding back from using too much force. Your heart skipped a beat as you crossed the room, smoothing your dress out before reaching for the handle. As soon as you opened it, there he was.

Clark stood in the doorway, his large frame filling the space like he belonged there. He was wearing one of his usual button-downs, but the top two buttons were undone, revealing just a hint of the smooth skin underneath. His hair, tousled from the breeze, was just begging to be touched. Those piercing blue eyes of his softened when they met yours, a slow, easy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and rich.

"Hey yourself," you replied, stepping back to let him in.

As he moved past you, you could feel the heat radiating off his body. There was always something about Clark that made the room feel smaller, like his presence filled every corner, every inch of space. Maybe it was because you knew who he truly was, or maybe it was just the raw power that he seemed to hold back every time he touched you—either way, it sent a shiver down your spine.

He glanced around the room, taking in the soft lighting, the music, and the wine. "Looks like you were expecting me," he teased, his eyes flicking back to yours.

"I might've been," you said, closing the door behind him. "Did you want a drink?"

Clark shook his head slightly. "Not right now," he murmured, his voice deepening as his gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips. "I had something else in mind."

You swallowed hard, the anticipation making your pulse race. You had spent enough time with Clark to know where this was headed, but tonight, there was a different kind of intensity in his eyes. Something that made your stomach flutter and your body heat up all at once.

Without another word, he stepped closer, his broad hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and the warmth of his skin against yours sent a delicious tremor through you. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a brief moment before opening them again to find him staring at you with an almost reverent expression.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent. The kiss was slow, savoring—like he had all the time in the world to explore the taste of your mouth. You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. His body was hard beneath your touch, a solid wall of muscle that made you feel safe and completely overwhelmed all at once.

Clark's hands moved down, sliding along your sides until they rested on your hips. He pulled you closer, pressing you firmly against him as the kiss deepened. His tongue teased yours, coaxing soft whimpers from your throat as the heat between you grew more intense.

You felt the edge of the couch pressing against the backs of your thighs, but before you could react, Clark was lifting you effortlessly, setting you down on the soft cushions. He stood over you for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you, breathless and wanting beneath him.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Why don't you show me?" you whispered back, your voice barely steady.

Clark's eyes flared with something primal, something that made your heart race even faster. He slowly dropped to his knees in front of you, his large hands sliding up your legs, pushing your dress higher as he went. The fabric bunched around your hips, leaving your legs exposed to the cool air. You could feel your skin prickling under his touch, your breath catching in your throat as he leaned in, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thigh.

Your head fell back against the couch, your fingers tangling in the fabric as you fought to keep some semblance of control. But Clark wasn’t making it easy. His lips, warm and teasing, worked their way higher, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"Clark," you gasped, your hips shifting as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just enough for him to settle between them.

"I want to take my time with you." he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

And take his time he did.

Clark's lips traveled lower, brushing over the sensitive skin at the juncture of your thigh and hip. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, and you couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped your lips. He looked up at you then, his blue eyes dark with want, and the sight of him between your legs, looking up at you with such hunger, nearly undid you.

With deliberate slowness, his hands slid up to your hips, his fingers hooking into the thin waistband of your underwear. He pulled them down, the fabric sliding against your skin in a way that made your body hum with anticipation. The cool air brushed against your exposed skin, heightening the sensitivity of every nerve ending.

And then, Clark leaned in.

The first brush of his mouth against you was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. You arched into him, a soft cry escaping your lips as he kissed you there, his tongue flicking out to taste you. He took his time, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of you like he was committing the experience to memory.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as you tugged him closer, needing more. Clark groaned against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as his tongue worked its magic, teasing and tasting in a way that had you trembling beneath him.

Every flick of his tongue, every press of his lips, was designed to drive you higher, to push you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, tightening with every breath you took. Clark's name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as your hips moved against his mouth, chasing the release that was building inside you.

Clark responded to your need, his movements growing more insistent, more focused. He knew exactly what you needed, exactly how to push you over the edge, and he was relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure.

It didn’t take long before you were teetering on the edge, your body trembling as the tension built to an almost unbearable peak. Clark's name left your lips in a broken gasp, and then, with one final flick of his tongue, you shattered.

The pleasure washed over you in waves, your body arching off the couch as your orgasm consumed you. Your hands tightened in Clark's hair, holding him close as the sensation rolled through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. He stayed with you the entire time, his mouth never leaving your body as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure from you.

When you finally came down, your body limp and boneless against the couch, Clark pulled away, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you. The sight of him, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, was enough to send another shiver of want through you.

Without a word, Clark stood, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. You watched, still breathless, as he undid them slowly, one by one, revealing the broad expanse of his chest. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him—he was all muscle, hard and defined, with just the right amount of softness that made you want to touch every inch of him.

When his shirt finally hit the floor, you couldn't help but reach for him, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again. This kiss was different from the first—deeper, more intense, filled with the promise of what he was about to do to you.

His lips moved with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the desire coursing through him in the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body. His muscles tensed under your fingers, the raw strength of him a constant reminder of just how powerful he was. And yet, there was always such care in the way he touched you, like you were something precious, something he couldn’t afford to break.

Clark’s hands slipped to the hem of your dress, his fingertips grazing your skin as he slowly began to lift it. You raised your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, and the cool air hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. His eyes darkened as they swept over your body, drinking you in as though it was the first time he’d ever seen you like this.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

The compliment sent a flush of warmth through you, your heart racing as his hands continued their exploration. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his fingers trailed down your sides, brushing over your breasts and waist, igniting a fire everywhere he touched. The intensity in his gaze made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of you in this moment.

You reached up, your hands tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble beneath your fingertips. The kiss you shared was slow and sweet, but the undercurrent of passion was undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface. The room around you seemed to blur, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the feel of his strong body against yours, the heat between you growing hotter by the second.

“Clark…” His name was a whisper on your lips as he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours, searching for permission. He didn’t need to ask; you could see the need mirrored in his gaze, feel it in every deliberate movement he made.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low and husky, making your body ache for him in ways you hadn’t known were possible.

“I want you,” you breathed, your hands sliding down his chest, fingers brushing against the waistband of his pants. “I need you.”

Clark’s pupils dilated at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. In one swift movement, he had you back against the cushions, his body hovering over yours, and you could feel the strength in every inch of him as he held himself above you, not letting an ounce of his weight press down on you unless you wanted it.

Your fingers fumbled with the button on his pants, desperate to feel more of him. He helped you, his hands moving quickly to rid himself of the remaining barrier between you. When his pants finally fell to the floor, he stood before you in nothing but his boxers, the fabric doing little to hide the evidence of his desire.

You reached out, your fingers sliding over the waistband of his boxers before gently pushing them down. He groaned as you touched him, his breath hitching as he kicked the last piece of clothing away. When he was finally bare before you, you couldn’t help but pause for a moment, taking in the sight of him—so perfect, so human, and yet so much more.

He knelt back down between your legs, his body hovering just above yours, the heat of him intoxicating as he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your skin, and you could feel the tension in him, the way his muscles tensed as he held himself back, waiting for you to give him the signal to go further.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint, but you could see how badly he wanted to lose himself in you. It was the same way you wanted to lose yourself in him.

“Yes,” you whispered, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I’m sure.”

Clark’s control snapped then, but even in his need, there was a tenderness to the way he touched you, a gentleness that made your heart swell. He pressed his body against yours, his lips finding yours again as he aligned himself at your entrance. The first brush of him against you was enough to make you gasp, your body already so sensitive from his earlier touch.

Slowly, he pushed into you, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. You moaned softly as he filled you, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming in the best possible way. He stilled for a moment, letting you catch your breath, and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, you saw nothing but pure, unadulterated love in his gaze.

“God, you feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead resting against yours.

“You too,” you breathed, your hands running through his hair as you pulled him into another kiss.

Once he was sure you were ready, Clark began to move, his hips rocking gently against yours. The slow, steady rhythm he set sent waves of pleasure rolling through you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to that edge. You clung to him, your bodies moving in sync, the world outside fading away as you became lost in each other.

The sounds of your combined moans and heavy breathing filled the room, a symphony of desire that made the heat between you burn hotter. Clark’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, as his pace quickened, his restraint unraveling with each passing second. Every movement, every touch, was driving you higher, the tension building within you like a coil ready to snap.

“Clark,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you felt the tension in your belly tighten, threatening to break. “I’m close…”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice strained as his own pleasure built. His thrusts grew faster, more intense, his control slipping as he chased his own release.

With one final thrust, you shattered. The pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your vision going white as the sensation overwhelmed you. Clark followed soon after, a deep groan escaping his lips as he found his own release, his body tensing above you before he collapsed against you, his chest heaving with the force of it.

For a moment, the world was silent, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside and the heavy breathing between the two of you. Clark stayed inside you for a moment longer, savoring the intimacy of the moment before finally pulling out and collapsing beside you on the couch, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you into his chest.

Neither of you spoke for a while, the comfortable silence filled only with the sound of your breaths slowly returning to normal. You nestled into his side, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a sense of peace.

“You okay?” he finally asked, his voice a soft rumble that you felt more than heard.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “More than okay,” you whispered, your hand resting over his heart. “That was… amazing.”

Clark let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I’m glad I could be of service,” he teased, but there was an undeniable tenderness in his voice.

You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow to look down at him. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a faint flush to his cheeks. But the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world, made your heart swell with love for him.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Clark’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in that gentle, familiar way that always made your heart flutter. “Only because of you,” he whispered, his voice soft and sincere.

You leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, and in that moment, everything felt perfect. The world outside could wait—right now, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other under the soft glow of the moonlight streaming in through the window.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[sabrinasopposite]

santa doesn’t know u like i do ⋆⁺₊❅。

clark kent x fem! reader

i’ve been there through the good and bad

know how to make you laugh

kiss all your tears away, babe

only I can do that

summary °❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ : its christmas eve in smallville and y/n can’t wait till tomorrow to give her self-made gift to clark kent.

The snow fell gently, blanketing Smallville in a shimmering hush, as though the world had been tucked into a silver-white quilt. Even the stars seemed to lean closer, curious to watch the scene unfold below. Y/N tugged her scarf tighter, her breath unfurling in soft clouds as she stepped lightly through the snow. Each crunch of her boots on the frosted path felt impossibly loud in the stillness, but her heart raced faster with every step, urging her forward.

When she reached Clark’s barn, the wooden door creaked softly as she pushed it open. A faint golden glow spilled out, illuminating the snow beneath her feet. Inside, the air was warm, infused with the scent of hay, woodsmoke, and something uniquely Clark—a comforting mixture of earthiness and calm.

Her gaze lifted to the loft, where light danced across the beams. She climbed the ladder carefully, peeking over the edge. The sight that greeted her made her heart skip a beat.

Clark was sprawled on a makeshift couch by the loft window, wrapped in a knitted blanket. A steaming mug of cocoa rested in his hand, and an open book lay balanced on his lap. The soft light made his features look impossibly gentle, his messy hair haloed by the glow. He looked like a painting—perfect and timeless.

At the creak of the ladder, he glanced up, his blue eyes widening for a moment before softening into a smile that warmed her more than the stove below.

“Y/N?” he said, setting his book aside. “What are you doing out here?”

“I...” She hesitated, her cheeks blooming pink. “I wanted to see you.” Her voice was soft, almost shy. “Merry Christmas, Clark.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, his smile growing. “But it’s freezing outside. You could’ve waited until tomorrow.”

Y/N laughed, the sound filling the space like the chime of distant bells. She reached under her coat and pulled out a small package, its crimson wrapping crinkling in her hands. “I couldn’t wait. I wanted to give you this.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing grin as he accepted the gift. “And here I thought Santa was the one sneaking into barns at night.”

“Santa doesn’t knit scarves,” she retorted, crossing her arms in mock indignation before breaking into a laugh.

He unwrapped the package carefully, his fingers brushing over the soft red scarf inside. His grin softened into something tender as he held it up, running his thumb along the stitches. “You made this?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “I thought it might keep you warm up here. It’s not perfect, but—”

“It’s perfect,” he interrupted, already wrapping it around his neck. “I love it.”

Her heart swelled, and she looked down, pretending to straighten her coat to hide her smile. “I’m glad.”

Clark set his cocoa aside and walked to a small table tucked into the corner of the loft. From underneath it, he pulled out a box wrapped in silver ribbon. “Your turn,” he said, his tone a little more nervous now. “I, uh, didn’t know how to wrap this very well, but...” He trailed off, holding the box out to her.

Y/N took it, her fingers trembling slightly as she untied the ribbon. Inside, nestled against soft velvet, was a delicate necklace. The pendant was a heart, small and simple, but it seemed to shimmer with its own quiet light.

“Clark...” she whispered, her voice catching. “It’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you,” he said quickly, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “Something simple but... special. And full of love.” He scratched the back of his neck, his eyes flicking nervously to hers. “I just... wanted you to have it.”

Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, echoing her earlier words.

He stepped behind her, brushing her hair aside as he fastened the necklace around her neck. His fingers lingered on her skin for a moment longer than necessary, and when he stepped back, his eyes traced the way the pendant rested just above her heart.

“Something beautiful,” he said softly, “just like you.”

Y/N reached up to touch the pendant, feeling its weight, its meaning. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but they didn’t fall. Instead, she looked at him with all the love she felt, unable to find words big enough to hold it. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I love it.”

Clark’s expression melted into something impossibly tender, his voice low as he replied, “I love you.” He reached for her hands, threading his fingers through hers.

For a moment, they stood there, the world outside the barn fading into nothingness. The snow whispered against the roof, the stars glittering beyond the window, but all Y/N could feel was the warmth of Clark’s presence, the steady beat of love between them.

Then, with a sudden grin, Clark reached to the side and held up a sprig of mistletoe. “I figured I’d keep this handy,” he said, his voice playful but his gaze filled with affection.

Y/N laughed, her breath misting between them. “You really planned this, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he teased, leaning closer. “But I’d call it good planning.”

Their lips met, soft and unhurried, a kiss that felt like the first brush of sunlight after a long winter. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, warm and steady, that even the coldest nights couldn’t touch.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, her voice a whisper. “Merry Christmas, Love.”

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart,” he replied, his voice as steady and full of warmth as the glow in his eyes. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

And as they settled back onto the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, the barn seemed to hold its breath around them, cradling their love like a secret too precious to let go.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 merry (early) christmas to everyone! its my gift to u and i hope u like a clark kent!

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ taglist: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23

[haveihitanerve]

The idea, surprisingly, came from Batman. “I just…” Clark sighed. “It’s getting harder and harder to keep up my facade. Clark Kent is who I am, but I can’t not be Superman yknow? And well, I’m running out of excuses.” Oliver nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I get that.” “Why don’t you just tell them.” Batman interrupted. The two heroes looked at him in surprise. “Tell them?” Oliver asked incredulously. Batman nodded, looking at them as though they were daft. “Yes, tell them.” He sighed, running out of patience when they didn’t understand. “It’s the perfect excuse and if you really stress it then no one will believe you.” Oliver made a face. “Yeah sure Batman.” He drawled sarcastically. “Like you actually do that.” Batman stared at him for a few seconds, then snorted, turned, and walked away. “See?” Oliver muttered, victorious. 

“Clark you have that interview now with Bruce Wayne, he���s one of our biggest sponsors- why aren’t you gone yet?!?!”Perry half screamed as Clark half hazardly packed his satchel and made sure he had enough paper, his tape recorder had enough storage and his pens were working. “I know I know.” He muttered back, slinging it over his shoulder. “Sorry, I’ve never had an interview this late.” He half growled, heading out to grab a cab and head over to Wayne Enterprises, their meeting spot. The taxi driver seemed to sense Clark’s anxiety because he most definitely did not follow the speed limit but Clark was too panicked to tell him to slow down and tossed him a few bills before sprinting up the stairs to WE. “Mr. Kent!” Bruce Wayne greeted warmly, opening the door for him. “Hello Mr. Wayne,” Clark greeted politely, taking his offered seat. “Sorry for being late.” Bruce waved him off, pouring himself and Clark a glass before sitting himself. “It’s no matter, really, your payback for my cutting our last interview short eh?” He winked, handing the glass of water to Clark. Clark sipped it in thanks, opening his notebook. “Yeah… why did you by the way?” He asked. Bruce chuckled. “Clark, darling, didn’t you know? I’m Batman, Justice called.” Clark chuckled, clicking on his pen. “Yes, right, of course.” His eyes caught movement from the corner of his eye and he spotted a woman in a beautiful red dress walking past the window. Before he turned his attention back to his interviewer, a light illuminated the sky. Bruce stood. “Sorry to cut it short again, old friend, but duty calls.” He gestured to the light in the sky before rushing out, coincidentally after the woman. Clark rolled his eyes, packing together his things. “Once a playboy always a playboy.” He murmured, slinging the bag over his shoulder, but before he could walk about Bruce arrived again, hair disheveled, and shirt askew. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face. “Gordon needed some aid but Robin had it handled.” Clark let his eyes drift only a second over Bruce’s appearance before looking away and taking a seat again. “Robin…” he agreed. “Right. Is that her name?” He muttered quietly, smiling to himself as he dug through his satchel for his pen, missing the smug look the playboy sent him. 

“Ollie!!!!” Oliver Queen grinned, turning to face the overly high pitched male voice calling his name. “Brucie!! It’s been too long!” Bruce laughed, falling into his arms in a hug, voice dropping back to his normal baritone. “It really has been, glad to see you.” Oliver smiled warmly. “I am so pleased to see you too, these Galas get so boring.” Bruce chuckled, eyes scanning the crowd of party goers. “Well, you’re always welcome to seek me out at these sorts of things bud, except when I’m working to save the city.” Oliver chuckled, taking a sip of his champagne. “So true.” He agreed. “You’re doing a great job at it too, man.” Bruce smiled wanly. “Thanks. It’s hard work though. Wayne Enterprises in the mornings,” his voice dipped low. “Saving the Gotham citizens as Batman at night.” Oliver choked on his drink, laughing. “Exactly!” Bruce grinned back, almost triumphant. His eye caught some movement at the corner of the dance floor and both men turned, spotting his third oldest son, flicking his wrist in a certain movement. Bruce’s eyes darkened. “Alright Ollie, it was nice catching up, but Justice calls: Gotham needs me.” Oliver chuckled. “Right on.” 

A week later Oliver and Clark once again found themselves chilling in the main den, complaining about the difficulties of keeping their secret identities secret. Batman walked in, listened for two seconds, and promptly groaned. “I told you,” he complained. “Just tell them!” “It’s not that easy! And that defeats the whole purpose of keeping it a secret!” Oliver argued back. Batman looked at him. “I did it. To both of you actually.” Clark snorted. “Yeah right.” Batman turned to him. Suddenly his voice changed pitches. “Mr. Kent! So pleased to see you, sorry to have run out on you earlier, but well! Justice calls, oh, but Robin handled it!” Clark paled. Batman turned to Oliver. His voice went even higher. “Ollie!! It’s been too long my friend, but we’ll have to chat some other time you know how it is, Justice calls!” Oliver turned a strange shade of white. “See?” Batman- no Bruce Wayne said with a smirk. “Easy.” Back at home in the Batcave, the batkids were losing their minds. 

(Yes they placed bets)

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This home in Dungeness, Kent, UK doesn't look like much, but it's so unique inside. In the 1920s, the railroad allowed workers to buy railway cars. They were allowed to drag them down the beach, and about 30 stayed there. This home is built around an old railroad car. Check out this adorable 3bd, 2ba home. £875k / $1.097m. (Note the view of the lighthouse.)

Original wide plank flooring. The interior walls are lovely and look so beachy. You could really decorate this beautifully.

In the kitchen, you can see the outside wall of the car. Isn't that cool?

Look at this- it's inside the train car. Isn't this beautiful? Look at the wood and the door. The windows face the water.

This particular home is especially well done- they flawlessly incorporated the car.

Here's the outer wall so that you can clearly distinguish it from the rest of the house.

The bed is in a little alcove against the wall of the car.

Bedroom #2 is large enough for 2 beds and can make a nice guest room.

Hallway to the other bds. and baths.

Very nice cozy room.

And, this one is in the railroad car.

Beautiful modern bath.

You can see the outer wall of the car there.

Outside there's a deck that looks like a boardwalk.

https://www.themodernhouse.com/sales-list/dungeness-road-iv/

[st4rfckerz]

Ski Lodge | Clark Kent x Reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, slowish build up

summary: a holiday trip to a ski lodge takes a turn when an unexpected encounter with an ex reignites old emotions

a/n: happy holidays!!! i conjured this up when i was listening to last christmas while decorating my tree so i hope you all enjoy 😛

The frost-kissed windshield reflected the hazy glow of string lights lining the quiet mountain road. The car’s heater hummed warmly as laughter echoed from the back seat, where your best friends debated which cabin room had the best view. A burst of snowflakes swirled in the air as you passed a wooden sign that read “Welcome to Evergreen Peaks Resort.”

You leaned forward, adjusting your scarf, heart fluttering with excitement. The promise of cozy nights by the fire, thrilling runs down the slopes, and a week of laughter with your favorite people felt almost too perfect. Outside, a landscape straight out of a postcard sprawled before you: towering pines draped in fresh snow, the jagged peaks of the mountains piercing the pale blue sky, and a lodge glowing with golden light at the base of the slopes.

The crisp mountain air hit you as soon as you stepped out of the van, your boots crunching against the snow-packed ground. Your group hustled toward the lodge’s main office, arms full of bags and faces red from the cold. The towering pine trees and faint sound of laughter from distant skiers created the perfect holiday scene.

Inside, the warmth of the check-in lobby wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. A massive stone fireplace crackled to one side, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air. The receptionist confirmed it was as incredible as it sounded: multiple bedrooms, a hot tub, a fire pit, and a view of the mountains. With keys in hand, your group set out, eager to see it for yourselves.

As you trudged up the snowy path toward your cabin, dragging your bags behind you, the warm glow of lights spilling through the windows was the first thing you noticed. Laughter and muffled voices filtered through the frosty air, carrying down the trail and cutting through the silence of the woods.

You knocked twice on the sturdy wooden door, and almost immediately, the noise inside quieted. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal the rest of your friends, their faces lighting up when they saw you.

The group erupted in laughter and greetings as you all spilled in, shaking off the cold and wrapping each other in hugs. The energy was infectious, and for a moment, you felt completely at ease, surrounded by the people you cared about most.

But then, as you pulled back from a hug, your eyes caught on someone standing at the edge of the room. Clark.

You didn’t know he’d be here. He looked just as stunned to see you, though he quickly masked it with a polite, awkward smile. Unsure of what else to do, you mirrored it, your heart racing as you struggled to process his unexpected presence.

Around you, your friends carried on, laughing and catching up as though nothing had shifted. But for you, the air felt different, charged and heavy with the weight of unspoken history. Clark’s gaze lingered on yours for a moment longer before someone else pulled his attention, and you turned back to your friends, forcing yourself to join in the chatter.

Afterwards, the cabin was filled with the soft glow of string lights and the comforting crackle of the fireplace.

The scent of pine mingled with the faint sweetness of hot cocoa, and laughter echoed as your friends debated the placement of ornaments and tangled tinsel. You found yourself standing near Clark, more by coincidence than intention, as you reached into the same box of ornaments. The two of you had barely exchanged a few words all evening, careful to stay on opposite sides of the conversation whenever possible.

“Who keeps putting all the ornaments on one side?” someone joked from across the room.

You laughed softly, distracted, and reached for another ornament just as Clark did the same. Your hands brushed—a fleeting touch that sent an unexpected jolt through you.

“Sorry,” you muttered quickly, pulling back, your cheeks warming.

“Sorry,” he echoed, his voice just as quiet. For a brief moment, your eyes met, and the tension was palpable, unspoken words hanging in the air.

But before either of you could say anything more, someone called out for another string of lights, breaking the moment. You turned away, your heart racing, and focused on hanging the ornament in your hand, pretending nothing had happened.

As the night wore on, the lively chatter and laughter that had filled the cabin slowly faded. One by one, your friends began heading off to their rooms, their goodnights accompanied by the muffled sound of footsteps on wooden floors. The soft glow of the Christmas tree lights cast a warm hue over the now-quiet living room, and the fire in the hearth had burned down to glowing embers.

You lingered in the kitchen, busying yourself with small tasks—wiping down the counter, adjusting a stray mug on the table, and rearranging a bowl of leftover snacks. The cabin felt different now, quieter, almost too quiet, and the stillness wrapped around you like a heavy blanket.

You’d stayed up longer than everyone else, lost in your thoughts, but now the exhaustion was starting to catch up with you. You reached for the door to what you thought was your room and pushed it open, stepping inside.

The soft glow of a bedside lamp lit the space, and your heart stopped when you saw Clark sitting on the edge of the bed. He stood up abruptly, clearly surprised.

Your cheeks burned as you froze in place, the realization hitting you hard. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. This isn’t my room,” you stammered, backing toward the door. “I’ll just leave.”

As you fumbled to back out of Clark’s room, mortified, you reached for the door handle. But just as you were about to close it behind you, his voice stopped you.

“Wait,” he said, his tone soft but firm enough to freeze you in place.

You hesitated, the door still slightly ajar, peeking back into the room. Clark had stood up from the bed, his expression a mix of something you couldn’t quite place.

He cleared his throat, glancing briefly at the floor before meeting your gaze. “How are you?” he asked, the words coming out awkwardly, as though he wasn’t sure if he should be saying them at all.

For a second, you were too surprised to respond. The question felt heavier than it should have, loaded with all the things left unsaid between you. “I’m fine,” you finally replied, your voice cautious. “How about you?”

He gave a small shrug, his lips twitching into a faint, self-conscious smile. “I’m good. Just… didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, gripping the edge of the door. “Me neither.”

The silence that followed felt both unbearable and strangely comforting, and for a moment, neither of you seemed to know what to do next. Clark stepped further into the room, his hands tucking into his pockets.

“This place is great, isn’t it?” he said, his tone casual but slightly awkward, like he wasn’t sure how to start a conversation.

You nodded, leaning lightly against the doorframe. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice. The tree, the fireplace, it’s like something out of a postcard.”

Clark takes a few steps towards you, looking you over for a moment before speaking, his voice low but clear. “You look good,” he said simply, the words carrying a quiet sincerity that caught you off guard.

You blinked, tilting your head slightly as you studied him. “Thanks, you do too.” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them.

For a moment, the air between you felt charged, the playful banter giving way to something heavier, more electric. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, and Clark tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that familiar, maddening smile. His closeness was enough to make your breath hitch, but before you could react, he moved slowly, reaching past you.

The soft click of the door closing behind you broke the quiet, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized he had gently shut it, leaving the two of you alone in his room.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended, your pulse racing.

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he leaned down slightly, almost matching your height. The smile on his lips softened, but his tone remained calm, almost teasing. “Just making sure we don’t wake anyone up.”

Without warning, he closed the distance. His hand came up, brushing against your arm before settling firmly on your waist, pulling you closer as his lips met yours in a strong, deliberate kiss.There was nothing tentative about it. The kiss was bold, filled with a fiery urgency that left no room for hesitation.

You kissed back just as fervently, your hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him. Your tongue darted out, tracing the seam of his lips, and he groaned into the kiss, opening for you. His tongue slid against yours, hot and slick, and you could taste the sweetness of his mouth. It was dizzying, the way he kissed you, like he was trying to devour you. Like he wanted to consume you whole.

Clark's hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to his bed. He laid you down gently, his body covering yours, his hips nestling between your legs. His lips never left yours, the kiss growing more urgent, more demanding. His hand slid under your shirt, his palm warm and rough against the smooth skin of your back. He stroked up your side, his thumb brushing the side of your breast, making you gasp into his mouth.

Clark's lips trailed down your neck, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. He kissed along your collarbone, his teeth grazing the spot he knew drove you crazy. You could feel the heat of his mouth, the dampness of his tongue, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips, holding you in place as he lowered himself further.

Clark's hands slid down your body, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pajama pants. You lifted your hips, helping him, until he could slide them off completely, leaving you bare before him. He settled between your legs, his hands sliding up your calves, your inner thighs, his touch teasing. He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your panty clad pussy, making you shiver.

His nose brushed the damp cloth that covered your most private part as he took a long, deep breath. He inhaled in your scent, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the aroma of your arousal. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

“Missed her.” he murmured to himself before leaning and pressing a kiss to your clothed cunt, his lips moving against the damp cotton. He kissed you there, his mouth open and eager, his tongue flicking out to taste you through the barrier of your underwear.

Clark frantically yanked your panties down, tossing them carelessly to the side. Before the fabric even hit the floor, he had thrown your legs over his broad shoulders and dove in face first, burying himself between your thighs. You gasped as his tongue, hot and slick, dragged through your folds in one long, slow lick. He groaned at the taste of you, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he held you in place. His tongue circled your clit, flicking and stroking the sensitive bud, before suckling on it greedily.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping the short strands tightly as you pulled him closer, urging him on. The sting of your nails digging into his scalp made him moan against your folds. He responded eagerly to your unspoken demand, his tongue delving deeper, thrusting harder into your fluttering walls.

Clark's hand slid up your body, cupping the soft swell of your breast, his palm warm and rough against your skin. His fingers kneaded the tender flesh, squeezing gently, relishing the weight of it in his hand. He brushed his thumb over your nipple, feeling it pebble and harden at his touch. Your hand covered his, your fingers splaying over his knuckles.

As Clark's tongue continued swirling against your clit, he slid a single finger inside your dripping entrance, feeling your walls clench tight around the intrusion. He pumped it slowly, his finger curling and stroking your inner walls, teasing that sensitive spot deep inside. Your grip on his hair tightened, your nails digging into his scalp as you arched your back, pressing your breast more firmly into his kneading hand.

Soon he added a second finger, stretching you wider, filling you fuller. Clark could feel your walls starting to flutter and clench around his fingers, your body tensing as the pleasure mounted. He looked up at you, his dark eyes wide and blown, taking in the flush of your skin, your parted lips, the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath.

“I feel it.” he rumbled. He pumped his fingers faster, thrusting harder, curling them just right to stroke that special spot inside you. His tongue swirled around your clit, flicking and sucking, before taking it between his teeth and tugging gently.

“Cum on my face pretty, I know you can do it.” The nickname you hadn't heard in what felt like forever rolls off his tongue effortlessly, as though no time has passed at all. It all sent you spiraling over the edge, leaving completely lost in him. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing, your walls clamping down around Clark's fingers like a vice.

Clark groaned as he felt your release, your cum flooding his mouth, coating his fingers. He worked you through it, drawing out your pleasure until you collapsed back onto the bed, boneless and sated.

Before you could catch your breath, Clark was climbing up your body, his now exposed hips nestling between your thighs. He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his lips moving demandingly against yours.

You could feel his hard cock pressing against your sensitive skin. With a single, powerful thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely.

You cried out unexpectedly, your voice muffled against Clark's hand as he quickly covered your mouth, silencing your moan.

“I need you to stay quiet or I’ll stop.” he demanded. Clark felt your head nodding eagerly against his hand, your silent agreement to stay quiet. He could see the desperation in your eyes, the need for him to keep going, to not stop.

He began to move again, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your slick cunt. One hand remained over your mouth, muffling your increasingly loud moans, while the other gripped your hip, pulling you harder against him with each powerful thrust. Feeling him again was like stepping back into a memory you thought you’d forgotten, grounding you in a way that felt achingly familiar.

Clark's thrusts grew more erratic, his hips slamming against yours with a desperate, almost frenzied need. You could feel his length throbbing inside you, growing harder, hotter, as his climax approached.

“I'm close,” he grunted, his voice strained and tight, his breath coming in harsh pants against your neck. “Can't hold back much longer.”

His hand tightened on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you harder against him, driving himself impossibly deeper.

“Need to feel you cum with me.” he growled, his hips jerking and stuttering as he chased his release. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you again, your body wound up like a bowstring ready to snap.

Clark buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he came. At the same moment, your walls clamped down around him, fluttering and squeezing as your own orgasm crashed over you. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as he spilled himself inside you, his cum hot and thick as it painted your walls.

Eventually, reality tugged at the edges of your quiet bubble. You both cleaned up quietly, exchanging a few soft smiles and glances.

Curling back up beside him, the warmth of his body against yours lulled you into a light, restless sleep. But as the early morning light began to filter through the curtains, you stirred, your chest tightening at the thought of anyone else finding out. Carefully, you slipped from his bed, dressing quickly and slipping out of his room before the rest of your friends woke, the soft click of his door closing behind you a bittersweet reminder of the night you’d shared.

[plethorawrites]

Guys! Clark has started to invade too!!! Anyway, today I was thinking about Smallville Clark Kent (personal go to when thinking about the character) with a new neighbor from the city...

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Clark Kent: Who sees you by the fence, petting his family's horses, and doesn't recognize you, which is odd because he recognizes everyone in such a small town.

Clark Kent: Who quickly realizes from the way you dress to the lack of an accent that you're not just new in town, but from some larger city that probably has apartment buildings with more tenants than the entire town has people.

Clark Kent: Who brushes off your apology for petting the horses, which you'd only done because you've never seen any in real life and couldn't resist how sweet they looked.

Clark Kent: Who watches you insist on going home to unpack instead of keep talking, but runs into you at school the next day and offers to show you around.

Clark Kent: Who you offer a ride home in your car as a thank you for being an extremely patient tour guide.

Clark Kent: Who accepts, under the condition that you let him show you the town too and when you tell him you pretty much have with how small it is, shakes his head and tells you there's a lot of places people don't know about aside from him or a few other kids.

Clark Kent: Who not only shows you his favorite places the next time you're both free, but also says he would be glad to teach you to ride, if you ever wanted.

Clark Kent: Who is thrilled when you take him up on it and spends several hours on a trail with you at a calm pace, keeping close in case anything suddenly spooked your horse. Although they were incredibly good horses so there weren't any problems.

Clark Kent: Who was fascinated by watching you slowly get more accustomed to the town—wearing clothes that were from a local boutique instead of a designer brand, engaging in the rather silly but beloved town traditions, even cutting off some of the friends from the city who you realized weren't really your friends at all after they once visited and immediately started making fun of Clark and his friends.

Clark Kent: Who was surprised at first, when you showed up at his family's door one day asking to help with the animals, but quickly got used to you coming over to help him feed or bathe them, which you claimed was your way of thanking him for the riding lessons but he suspected you just wanted an excuse to be with the animals.

Clark Kent: Who knew you'd fit in with his friends after they got over their own prejudice of you being rude or pretentious because you're from the city and likes hanging out with you with them but likes it just as much, maybe more, when everyone leaves and you're able to stay a bit longer in the barn.

Clark Kent: Who leans out the window next to you, enjoying the breeze as the sun sets and tells you he's glad you moved to Smallville.

Clark Kent: Who sees you shudder from the cold and instantly wraps his jacket around you, conveniently ignoring your blushing cheeks in case he was misreading the situation.

Clark Kent: Who still carefully tucks a piece of hair out of your face—while the voice in head screams not to ruin things—just to see it better and wets his lip while staring at yours.

Clark Kent: Who leans in slowly, waiting for the moment you'd slap him and walk out for daring to try something with you, but only sees you leaning in too.

Clark Kent: Who kisses you for the first time while you're in the barn, wearing his jacket, but promises himself then and there that it wouldn't be the last.

[visiondoorswindowsltd]

The door and window company was launched by business partners Emma Johnson and Dave Mulachy. Emma and Dave both have longstanding experience in the glazing industry and first worked together over 20 years ago. The duo bring a personal, friendly and customer-focused perspective to the double glazing business. With much less emphasis on the traditional hard sell.

[clxrk-kent]

clark kent (tom welling) x reader

The city was bustling outside the window, its lights flickering like a million tiny stars against the night sky. Inside, it was quiet, save for the sound of a clock ticking in the corner and the soft hum of the refrigerator. You sat on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket, your thoughts swirling as you replayed the evening.

It had been an exhausting day. You'd caught up with old friends, attended a meeting, and had a thousand thoughts to process, but the one that lingered most was the moment you and Clark Kent had shared earlier that day. You’d always felt a connection with him, a chemistry that neither of you had ever quite acknowledged—until today.

He had stopped by your apartment under the pretext of “checking in,” but you both knew it was more than that. It had been one of those rare moments when Clark allowed himself to relax, to let his guard down. You’d seen him laugh more freely than usual, heard him speak about things that weren’t related to his superhero persona, his journalistic work, or the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He was human with you.

And you could feel it—the pull between you both. It was magnetic, a quiet tension that simmered beneath the surface, unspoken but undeniable.

When the door creaked open, your heart skipped. You hadn’t expected him to come back, but there he was, looking as handsome and disarming as ever. Clark’s broad shoulders filled the doorway, his eyes softer than you remembered. He was dressed casually in a plain t-shirt and jeans, his hair tousled as if he'd just returned from a run.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said, his voice low, like it always was when he was uncertain. But the way he said it, his eyes never leaving yours, told you it was anything but a casual visit.

"Not at all," you replied, your pulse quickening, betraying the calm facade you tried to maintain. "Come on in."

He stepped into the apartment, and you noticed how he seemed to exhale the weight of the world as soon as he crossed the threshold. He was always in control, always the perfect reporter, the fearless hero, but here, with you, he didn’t have to be. He could let the world spin without him for a moment.

Clark walked over to the couch and sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. You could smell the faint hint of fresh air, like he’d just flown in from somewhere. His presence was always comforting, but tonight, there was something more. His fingers brushed yours as he leaned back, the brief contact sending a shockwave through your body.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of your breathing, a shared, unspoken awareness hanging in the air between you.

Finally, Clark turned to you, his eyes dark and intense. “I didn’t expect this… you know, being here with you like this.”

His words were soft, almost unsure, and it struck you that despite everything he had faced, Clark Kent was just as vulnerable as anyone else. He wasn’t always the confident, invulnerable hero the world saw. With you, he was just Clark. The man you had grown to care for in ways that neither of you had openly discussed.

You met his gaze and smiled, your voice low and steady, “I didn’t expect it either.”

His lips quirked into a half-smile, but the expression quickly deepened as his eyes flickered to your lips. The world seemed to stop for a moment, the hum of the city outside the only sound, a distant reminder of everything you’d left behind to focus on the moment you were sharing now.

Slowly, as if testing the water, Clark leaned in. His breath was warm against your face, and before you could even fully process the shift, his lips were on yours—gentle at first, tentative, as if asking for permission. Your heart thudded in your chest as you kissed him back, the touch of his lips sending a rush of warmth through your veins.

He deepened the kiss, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer as he gently guided you onto his lap. The world outside seemed to fade as your body responded to his, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t control.

His hands were strong, yet careful, as if he were afraid to break something. His lips moved against yours, his kisses becoming more urgent, more passionate, as if he were trying to convey everything he had kept hidden in the depths of his heart.

You broke the kiss, breathless, your forehead resting against his. “Clark…” you whispered, your voice shaky from the intensity of the moment.

His eyes met yours, dark with desire, but also something softer—something more vulnerable. “I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he confessed in a low voice. “Not with you.”

And before you could respond, Clark pulled you back into another kiss, this time more desperate, more consuming. The world outside didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except this moment, this connection. He was no longer Superman, and you were no longer just a friend—this was something else entirely. Something raw, something real.

[spacedace]

Bruce is grateful for the fact that Damian has made friends, he is.

He's happy that his son has met children his own age at school and befriended them. That he is growing from that prickly, unhappy, scarred child he'd first been when he'd come to live with Bruce. That his friends are even normal kids - baring Jon, who is still normal enough despite being the son of Superman and occasionally a super hero himself - with no links to anything strange or dangerous or illegal.

"Oh, sup B."

He just wished that his son's friends were also just a little less...feral.

"Hello Elle."

Elle Nightingale gave him a little wave with the lemon she was holding - or as best as she could considering the space she was working with - and smiled cheekily at him. Bruce felt a headache budding behind his eyes.

"I thought Alfred banned you from the kitchen?" She shifted a bit, nudging a bottle of milk - farm fresh, courtesy of the Kents, passed along via Jon as thanks for looking after him for the weekend. Bruce wished he'd had the foresight to expect that Jonathan Kent staying over for the weekend would mean that Elle, her cousin Billy and their friend BL - the children refused to say the girl’s real name, likely to spite Damian, and thr initials had been a compromise to calling her Box Lunch - would take it as them being permitted to stay over for so long as well. Damian had just given Bruce a an unimpressed look when he'd expressed his surprise at the sudden influx of twelve year olds in his home. As if Bruce was disappointing him at being so foolish as to think his entire pack of hellhounds wouldn't be invading enmass.

"Just getting a snack." He assured her, not wanting her to being the wrath of Alfred down upon his head. The hellions liked doing that, for some reason. "I don't suppose you could tell me what exactly you're doing in my fridge." Bruce tried, looking at the girl curled up in what should have been a deeply uncomfortable position between a few shelves of the large appliance.

Elle grinned. Her canines looked a little too sharp in the odd light of the fridge. Bruce really had to stop thinking of his sons friends as demonic hellions, he was starting to impose impossible features on them when he was sleep deprived.

"We're playing hide and seek." She made direct, unblinking eye contact with him as she brought the whole lemon to her mouth and took a bite out of it like it was an apple. "It’s Day's turn to seek." She added, lemon juice dripping down her chin as she swallowed her bite, rind and all.

Well at least she was getting enough vitimin C.

"Right." He nodded, deciding that it wasn't cowardice that led him not wanting to get involved. No, it was just...good parenting. Letting the kids be kids. It was a sleepover, and Damian was actually playing a game! That was something to be encouraged! Bruce wasn't fleeing from this particular group of children's brand of chaos at all. "...could you hand me one of the fruit cups Alfred made earlier?"

Elle obliged on the condition Bruce didn't tell Damian about her hiding spot and returned to happily eating her...whole lemon...as he shut the fridge door on her.

As he returned to his office he glanced out one of the manor's large windows long enough to see Billy stick his head out from the top of the twelve foot tall topiaries out on the front lawn, checking to see if Damian was about. Bruce shook his head, kids and their ability to climb impossible structures never ceased to amaze him. Billy should be careful not to keep trying to peak for Damian though, he was going to end up getting found that way.

[shhhsupertopsecret]

Bats - Connor Kent

an: some sort of established connection between reader and batfamily (I’ll let you decide) and based on the half-canon “No Metas in Gotham” rule because I think it’s funny. I love domestic batfamily. Let them be a lil silly. Not beta'd :) 

WC: 1205

Secretly dating someone with a single brain cell was not for the faint of heart. Dating a meta from out of town while you live in Gotham was also for the faint of heart. 

“Connor, for fuck’s sake!” You fell onto your back, knocking the air out of your lungs, when Connor appeared upside down in your window. He looked at you, his gaze soft with humor. A shit-eating grin pulled at his lips. 

“May I be gifted entrance?” He tilted his head, a strand of hair falling from where his glasses were pushing his hair back. When you had just about gathered your bearings, you pulled him through the window. 

“What if B sees you? Are you out of your mind?” Your face was pinched in reasonable concern. 

“No ‘hello’? No ‘how are you’? No ’thank you for breaking Batman’s rules to come see me because you love me so much?’” He wrapped one arm loosely around your waist. You really did miss him. There hadn’t been a reason to work together as of late. Making excuses to see him when surrounded by detectives was really hard. By god, you missed him.  

“Hello, I love you, I am so happy to see you, I was numb with loneliness before you appeared”, you placed a kiss to the tip of his nose, “Satisfied?”

“I’ll accept it. So…I can stay?” You rolled your eyes at his half-smirk. He was such a dork. 

“Fine, if you must.” Your voice was thick with mock-aloofness, you turned up your nose. You pulled the curtains closed (maybe that was a little paranoid, but all it took was one far away picture in the groupchat to have a dozen bats - mainly Tim - at your door). 

“Movie?” He had already made himself comfortable amongst your pillows and stuffed animals. 

“Of course. My pick this time!” He laughed and relented. As you approached the bed, he opened his arms for you to lay down. You wished he could be with you all the time. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of him, you could not think of anyone you would rather be with, but you were a little apprehensive for the other bats to know. Firstly, you would have to fight Tim for his attention and you were not good at sharing. Secondly, you would be fraternizing with a Kent and Bruce was real weird about Supes. Thirdly, you had a pack of pseudo-brothers who would want a few words. Bad mix. It was nice to share a bubble with Connor.

Halfway through the movie, you and Connor had molded into one person. Arms and legs were entangled. You were both cocooned in your comforter. You laid nearly fully on top of him, ear over his heart. You were half-asleep, more comfortable than you had been in a while. There was a knock at the door, not unexpected as you had ordered food 30 minutes ago. You pulled away from the tangle, not without Connor letting out a whine. 

“Food, babe. Be right back.” You placed a kiss on his forehead and grabbed his jacket off the bedside chair to cover your pajamas. 

“Coming!” You called as you shuffled to the door, pulling it open. 

That was not a pizza delivery. 

You met eyes with Tim. You contorted your body in an approximation of casual body language. 

“Hey, Tim. What brings you to these pastures?” You leaned against the doorframe. That was a really fucking stupid thing to say. You were not selling casual very well. You had been ambushed! 

“...Hey?” If Tim’s expression was anything to go by, you looked crazy. 

“The Computer’s systems went down before I could finish saving some files and Bruce said you had the physical drive?”

“Oh shit, yeah. It’s in my room. Just…wait here.” This was an easy fix. Give Tim the drive and he would be on his way. It was then that it struck you - you were wearing a jacket three sizes too big with very recognizable spikes on the shoulders. If you turn around there would be a blazing emblem sealing your coffin. No way any of this got past Tim. You felt like you were harboring a fugitive. You kept your cool - and slammed the door in Tim’s face. As quickly as possible, you ran to your room and ransacked your own drawers in search of the cursed USB drive. You ran back to the door, no doubt ten times more disheveled than when you first answered it. 

“Here you go!” You pressed the drive into Tim’s palm and slammed the door once again. Crisis averted??? You commenced the walk of shame back to your bedroom, no doubt that Connor heard that whole ordeal. 

“Pastures!?” You picked up the nearest pillow and slammed it into his face. 

“I KNOW!”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You received a page to the Batcave. While you were hoping for a break, you were always on call. Not unexpected. You pulled yourself together and headed out the door. Your commute to the manor was thankfully uneventful. The sight that greeted you upon your entrance, however, was unexpected. 

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian sat around a table at different levels of enthusiasm. Dick and Tim wore matching expressions of mischief while Jason and Damian had equal expressions of disinterest. No doubt they were forced to be here.  

“Thank you for attending this meeting. Some information has come to light that we feel the need to debrief.” Dick was definitely having fun fucking with you. 

“I was forced to be here.” Jason was reading a book under the table. 

“I concur with Todd.” Damian didn’t even look up from the notebook he was drawing in. Aww, you felt so loved. 

“Is this necessary? I don’t interrogate you about your romantic escapades. And you-”, you pivoted to Tim, ”You really couldn’t keep this to yourself! You would think a detective would have more tact.” Tim was still smirking at you. 

“As a detective, I am incredibly nosy.” You leaned over and flicked his forehead.

“Uncalled for!” 

“Very called for!”

“Just wait until we tell Bruce.” You slammed your hands down on the table.

“Dick, please don’t. I will tell him when I have to. I would never get to see him if Bruce knew.” You were dead serious and borderline begging, which seemed to make this less fun. 

“You’re serious about him?” Dick softened into his more caring big brother mode. 

“So serious.” Dick smiled at that. He and the other bats had terrible romantic track records and it made him happy to see you able to succeed in that department. He slipped back into his business demeanor. 

“The council has decided - we will not be reporting to the higher authority, but we will be conducting a thorough examination of the suspect.” Was he a Supreme Court Justice now??? This did seem to perk Jason and Damian’s interest. Figures. Jason did have a history of trying to scare your romantic suitors. You threw an arm around his shoulder around Dick’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, dork. Don’t try to scare him too bad.” If this was their weird way of caring for you, you would let them have it. You would also have to warn Connor. 

[kettlefire]

DP x DC Death Train edition

Bruce awoke with a start, eyes sweeping his surroundings to reveal a train. A train filled with three other members of the Justice league. All in civilian clothing.

Clark Kent. Barry Allen. Oliver Queen.

His first action was to attempt to wake the three heroes, all attempts failing miserably. Next order was try to figure out where they were and why.

The sight outside the windows was a deep, dark void. No light or shapes among the darkness. An ominious feeling grew stronger the longer he stared into the empty void.

He then worked to check the cargo holds above him. All of which were stuck shut and closed.

He quickly shifted his focus to the two doors on either side of the train cart. He had absolutely nothing on him that could be helpfully. Still dressed in the Pj pants and a shirt he had gone to bed in.

He moved to the one he thought might lead towards the front of the train. Giving a quick glance towards he's sleep comrades before making his choice.

The second cart was completely empty. The cargo hold was just as seal as the others.

He moved swiftly towards the next cart, softly cracking open the door and peering in.

This one wasn't empty.

Instead there stood a terrified man. Pale skin covered head to toe in tattoos and piercings. An impressive handle bar mustache paired with a bald head and leather jacket.

He wasn't the main focus though. Instead it was the shadow being that stood before him. The dark shape was humanoid, however it seemed to wisp and shift around the ends.

The being itself looked more ominous then terrifiying, but there seemed to be a recognition in the man's eyes.

"Please, please, I'm begging you! I'm sorry, if I had a choice I would never have done the things I did!"

The man's deep voice raised in octaves as the being took a step closer. He took a step back, pressing into the seat behind him.

Bruce barely refrain a flinch as a strange static noise left the being, seeming to echo in the empty air.

"No! No, that wasn't on me. You don't know the full story! Just hear me out, you'll understand, and-"

The man's pleas were cut short as the static sound filled the air again, this time louder. Sounding more hostile.

"No, she was asking for it! Please, look, I know what it looks like but-"

The being seemed to have enough of his pleas, pressing a dark, twisted hand onto the man's shoulder.

Bruce watched with wide eyes and baited breath as the man seemed to melt before his eyes. Screams filled the still area as the man's skin bubbled and dripped.

Starting at his legs and rising up with every second that passed. There was no flame. No reason for his skin to bubble and peel away from him.

In almost a blink an eye, the man was nothing more than a scorched puddle on the ground. Bruce quietly worked to move back into the prior cart, trying to close the small gap he made as quiet as possible.

The shadow being barely moved, but Bruce swore he felt eyes on him. It was looking straight at him. It knew he was there, there was no doubt in his mind.

Throwing caution to the wind, Bruce clicked the door closed and made a fast retreat back where he came.

Glancing over his shoulder to see nothing but the empty space. If that being wanted him dead, there was no doubt in his mind it wouldn't be hard to do.

Not in this state. Not when he had no clue what they were dealing with.

When he flung the door back to his original cart open, he almost ran straight into a sturdy chest.

Clark. He was awake. A quick glance around confirmed that everyone else was as well.

Bruce gave them a quick rundown of what he knew, shifting from Bruce Wayne billionaire to Bruce Wayne Justice League member.

After a brief debate on what to do, the team settled for moving the over way. The further from that thing they could get, the better their chances.

All hope relying on the being not being able to teleport between carts.

They catiously moved their way into the other carts. The others just as empty as the one he was in prior. Every cargo hold sealed shut, not even Superman's strength could pull them open.

Abilities didn't seem to work past the carts walls. Clark could only hear the heart beat of those around him, but nothing further passed the doors. X-ray vision was of no help, either.

It wasn't until their third cart that they ran into someone else. A shocked teenage boy staring back at them from the ground. Wide blue eyes and tossled black hair.

"You aren't supposed to be here." The teen mumbled, taking in the new crowd of four. "How-How did you get here?"