reblogged-by-zoe

[reblogged-by-zoe]

manipulative!robby who tries to insert himself into single mom reader's life when he finds out the father isn't in the picture

cw: 18+ MDNI, toxic robby, manipulation, dubcon, allusion to drugging, oral sex (fem!receiving), rimming, fingering, breeding, unprotected (piv) sex

the man's always wanted a family, lord knows he's not ready for it (you change that), but the opportunity is presenting itself and he's only getting older, so why not?

maybe you guys had a one night stand the same day the father left your life when he found out you were pregnant, and he never forgot about you.

a year later, you show up in the ED with your sick newborn, and you're surprised to see robby again. he is too. and with a baby.

you haven't really thought about dating because you're focused on your kid, but robby sees that you need support. your maternity leave is ending soon, and your struggling to pay the bills enough as it is (robby used his puppy dog eyes to pull all of this out of you, btw)

he makes the wild offer to set you up at his place. he has a whole goddamn house that's just waiting for someone like you to nest in it. and don't worry about the money. he's got it all taken care of.

you relent, bc, yeah, you still think about that one night stand you had with him and he's a trustworthy guy. he wouldn't be the head attending if he weren't.

it's just until you get your feet on the ground.

robby's soo sweet on your child, almost as if he thinks their his.

he feeds them, burps them, changes diapers, even brings them to the ED daycare just for when he's busy but wants to give you a break. everyone at work is teasing robby for finally stepping up bc he told them that he's actually the father. it's just chance you ended up in the pitt with your baby daddy and you couldn't resist finally telling him the truth.

it's nice. you like robby. it's like a co-parenting situation but he's just a really nice guy and now a friend who happens to like taking care of you both.

but you soon realize that robby's blurring lines that you thought were made clear. things only get worse once you tell him that you've found a higher paying remote job and can look for another place to live soon.

you wake up to find robby in bed, sleeping next to you, rubbing his hard cock against your ass. you fell asleep while watching a movie with him. that, you remember. but not making it up the stairs and into his bed. he shushes you and tells you it's just a natural reaction as he finishes in his boxers.

then, you're finding yourself sharing a shower with him, when you're both up and early. you already share the car, might as well save some water too, right? he lets himself into the shower and under the warm spray of water. he lathers up your tits and belly and all of your soft bits with (his) soap and washes all the stress away. when his fingers linger too low and too close to your cunt, he shushes you again when you say he shouldn't be doing this. he's over twenty years your senior, you've only known him for a few weeks, he's just... too much. but he fingers you to completion anyway and you can't help but succumb to him.

things just escalate from there and you're left wondering why the new job hasn't called you back about the drug test results while robby's eating your ass in the kitchen as you make dinner.

it's been a few months and he's wearing you down, little by little. day by day. but, oh, your kid loves him, and robby's so considerate, so handsome, lets you spend his money, buys you whatever you need, is so kind and gentle, and makes you come so fucking hard even if this should be a temporary living situation.

you realize robby "accidentally" left the lunch you made him (he asks you to give him silly little notes with it and you do) and he asks if you can bring it to him at work. you need to pick up your kid from the daycare, anyway.

suddenly, dana, langdon, mckay, everyone is asking you why robby's wife hasn't make introductions until now. they recognize you from when you were there a few months ago, but you weren't a wife then.

you excuse yourself to see robby when they ask you where your ring is.

you find him and finally confront him in one of the on-call rooms.

"what is this? what are we? why are you telling people i'm your wife?"

he just chuckles like you're supposed to know the answers already. he pulls you into him and lies you down on the couch, slowly peeling off your clothing. at this point, you're used to it. but he's been holding out on having sex with you and it's driving you a little crazy (even though you aren't supposed to want this)

but now robby's also peeling off his clothing. he's hard and leaking, and he's giving you a look. all you can do is nod because you haven't had sex in so fucking long and you think he's been holding back because he wants you desperate. and you are.

"want you to beg, love."

"r-robby. just... please. fuck me already."

"you love me?"

you think you could. eventually. maybe you've already started to.

"yes. i love you, robby."

he fucks you within an inch of your life and knocks the breath from your lungs with how forceful his thrusts are. he shifts your legs so they're thrown over his shoulders and you're nearly folded in half on the couch. you can barely hear his whispered words over the wet slap of his balls hitting your ass and your ragged moans into his thick neck.

"you're mine. my wife. the kid? they're mine too. and i'll take care of you both."

"you don't need to go back to work. just sit pretty at home with the next one i give you."

he groans into your shoulder as he drives his hips into you and all you can do is lie there and take his cock. he comes inside you. his cum is so thick, never ending, and it's so potent you think you'll actually get pregnant.

he licks you clean, then he's sucking your clit into his mouth and you have to cover your mouth with your hands lest someone hears you outside the room.

he grabs your hand and puts a ring on your finger after you come down from the orgasm he forced out of you with his lips and tongue.

you're sinking into the couch as you stare up at your hand at the huge ass ring. it's very pretty.

"i'm not your wife. yet. make sure to tell everyone that there's still a wedding planned. that you'll be paying for."

"of course. let's tell them together, sweetheart. let's pick up our little peanut first, alright?"

[reblogged-by-zoe]

In fact give us vampire au robby

vampire!robby who switches to night shift and has to steal blood from the blood bank until he comes across you in the er after cutting your hand. he insists on suturing you up even though someone else could do it because your blood smells so good…

he waits until the room is empty to stare into the very depths of your being and tell you ‘don’t scream, sweetheart. everything’s gonna be alright,’ before tilting your head to sink his teeth into your neck.

thanks to the compulsion, you don’t scream.

though that doesn’t stop you from wondering.

“why am i not afraid?”

after one last greedy swallow, robby pulls back to look at you, squinting for a touch cause you’re prettier than he realized. licking the blood from his lips, robby sighs.

“‘cause i told you everything would be alright.”

“but it’s not. you’re a vampire. and you bit me…”

your voice is strange. like you’re there but not, and robby likes that because it’s different. usually they cry or fall into a voiceless stare. but you—you’re asking questions. blinking at him with a cute frown that he wouldn’t hate seeing again.

“very astute observations,” he bobs his head with a small nod, body thrumming with a nice pulse. you’re the first fresh drink he’s had in weeks. “anything else before we continue?”

fuck. you’re actually thinking of something to say, robby can literally see you gears trying to turn.

finally, you flick your eyes to him.

“do i taste good?”

time stops.

you wait expectantly.

robby grins.

[reblogged-by-zoe]

Pillow Talk - fluffville mini.

Laying with Robby after your first time have sex and coincidentally also your first time sleeping over his place

Warnings: small talk of oral and sex. Fluffy Dickens.

After having to push his head out from between your thighs with both hands and maximum force, you finally collapsed in the bed after the absolute best sex of your life. Panting roughly, you let your head dangle over the side of the bed. Robby gently spreads your knees and sucks a breath in through his teeth. The red rash like bumps on the insides of your thighs from his beards constant rubbing looked irritated.

“Stings a little” you whine softly. He leans down to gently kiss and lick the bruising skin, also gently cleaning your orgasm off of you.

“Jesus, Robby…you…just wouldn’t stop” you say, leaning your head up to look down at him. He gives you a shy smile and lays his head down on your belly, nuzzling gently. Your hand immediately goes to his hair, petting and stroking your fingers through his hair.

“I just…wanted to make you feel good” he says, his chin resting now in you so he can look up into your eyes.

“Uh uh…it’s more than that…you were….insatiable about it. I had to shove you off” Robby blushes at your words.

“You’re a munch, aren’t you…” you say with a playful smirk. The bastard shrugs. He shrugs.

“Yeah…it’s a good stress reliever” he admits.

“Eating pussy is a good stress reliever?” You ask with a playful scoff.

“Uh, yeah. Especially since I quit smoking? Best way to stave off the oral fixation of a cigarette, at least that’s what I’ve found” he says so matter of factly, like he’s presenting research data.

“Huh…” you look intrigued.

“Wait…do you…do you not like it?” He asks, leaning up and suddenly nervous.

“Oh my god of course I do! Are you kidding? What a win for me” you say giggling softly and patting his head gently.

After a short and hot shower, you’re laying in his bed, snuggled against his body. Your back is pressed against his front and his arm is wrapped around your middle.

With a puff of breath against you ear he says, “I like you in my bed”

You hum softly and snuggle back against him. “I like me in your bed too….its comfy”

He playfully pulls you closer to him with his arm and nips at your earlobe. “Brat, is that the only reason?”

“Well…a part of the reason is also you’re lying in it with me” you say, rolling in his arms to face him, burying your face in his neck.

“Just part of the reason?”

“Well…it’s a pretty big part” you mumble against his skin, causing him to shiver slightly.

“What’s the other part, then??”

“I told you, comfy….the other part is you having enough sense to spend good money on a good mattress, pillows, and sheets…so sexy” your eyes are closed as you talk. Robby chuckles deep in his chest and pulls the covers over you both.

“I’m glad my bedtime accessories suit your needs, Princess” he says before kissing the top of your head.

“You suit me…Prince” your voice is soft and airy, you’re already half asleep. He places another soft kiss to your crown and lets his eyes close.

“Dream of me, ok?” He hears your soft voice ask through the darkness.

“I always do”

[reblogged-by-zoe]

꒰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ clark x coworker!reader

꒰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ꒱ you and clark confess your feelings to one another, but when he hasn’t asked you out, you start to worry that he didn’t mean it, unaware that clark thinks you’re dating.

꒰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ꒱ fluff. miscommunication. idiots in love. 𝐰𝐜: 𝟏.𝟐𝐤

꒰ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ꒱ i got a request for this at the beginning of the month but only now got to it … i’m sorry it took me so long! i hope you enjoy :)

── 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 💛

planet earth holds a lot of mysteries in it. the indus script. the dancing plague. the collapse of the bronze age. but for you? the biggest mystery came in the form of your coworker, clark kent.

you became friends almost immediately after you started working at the daily planet; you were a simple assistant, which meant that you mostly dealt with coffee orders, calls and meetings, documents, et cetera.

as if you hadn't been nervous enough on your first day of work, having spent the better part of the past few days trying to pick out an appropriate outfit, stressing over if your voice sounded 'friendly enough' or if your smile was too toothy, the universe decided to throw yet another curveball your way; you were supposed to print out a draft for one of the editors, only for the printer to jam.

"pleasee, just work..." you mumbled, trying to repeatedly push the button that read 'print', but to no avail.

"uh, excuse me...?" you heard coming from behind you, and you turned to see a man with a large, imposing figure standing there, a tight-lipped smile on his face as he adjusted his glasses, "do you need help with that?"

"it's jammed..." you mumbled, stepping aside to let the man take a look, "oh, this happens all the time." he let out a soft chuckle. the man gave the printer a swift kick, and suddenly, the machine started whirring, making you let out a small gasp. "this thing is ancient. i keep telling perry that we should replace it."

"thank you so much." you turned to him with a wide smile on your lips as the printer started printing out the draft, "i'm new here, and i didn't want to embarrass myself on my first day..." "i thought so. you don't look familiar." he held out his large hand, "i'm clark."

you smiled, taking his hand and shaking it as you introduced yourself to him.

clark had become your first friend at the daily planet, and you soon started spending time together out of the office, going out for coffee, for casual lunches or dinners, spending hours walking the corridors of museums, enthusiastically pointing out your favorite works of art... and it wasn't long until your heart started beating like a drum, silencing everything else around you every time clark walked into the room.

one evening, the two of you were walking through central park, a cup of coffee nestled between your hands to make sure they stayed warm in the chilly autumn air, while clark's beverage of choice was tea. most of the time you had no difficulty keeping up with the man's ramblings, but for some reason, that specific time, every word he was speaking went in through one ear and out the ear.

instead, your throat was basically burning with the words you'd been aching to tell him; how every morning, the thing you looked forward to the most was seeing him sitting at his desk as you walked into the office, how even hearing his voice caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, how every time he spoke your name, it was as if someone had jumpstarted your heart all over again.

suddenly, your feet froze to the spot. clark turned to look at you with furrowed brows, "are you alright?" he asked softly, looking over you with concern. you looked up into his deep blue eyes, swallowing as if it would wash away the words crawling up your throat.

"i like you!"

they were out before you could even force your lips to stop moving, your eyes widening as you finally registered what you'd said, clark's lips parting in surprise, moving around words that didn't leave his lips.

"forget- forget i said anything." you cleared your throat and continued walking, only to feel clark's warm, large hand wrap around your wrist, a gentle smile on his lips "i like you too." clark's hand slid until it met the palm of yours, intertwining your fingers, and you were unable to help the smile taking over your lips, the two of you now walking with your hands intertwined.

you expected things to change. you expected clark to officially ask you out. you expected something. but two months had gone by, and things stayed the same. coffee dates, casual meals, walks in the park… sometimes clark would hold your hand, or stand closer to you than he would've before; but nothing else. no more mention of your confession, or even acknowledging it.

you were sitting at your desk, your elbows resting on the desk while you held up your chin with a small pout on your lips, watching clark talking to jimmy, when a thought came to you. what if clark didn't actually like you? what if he just said that he did because he didn't want to hurt you?

you felt like an idiot.

clark was on his computer, doing research for a piece he was working on, when jimmy rolled his chair to his desk.

"so, how are things going?" he asked, pointing the rubber end of his pencil towards the assistant's desk, clark's cheeks starting to feel warm, turning a rosy color. "things are going well. we've been going out for two months now. i really like her."

"that's great!" "can i ask you for some advice, though?" "sure, hit me." "when do you think... would be the right time to try and kiss her?"

a dumbfounded look took over jimmy's face, his words coming out in a stunned stammer, "you've... you've been dating for two months and you still haven't kissed?" "well, she hasn't initiated, or even brought it up. i think she wants to take things slow, and that's more than fine with me."

jimmy sighed, pressing his pointer finger and thumb into the corners of his eyes, "god help me..." he muttered under his breath, "alright, kent. some women do want to take things slow, but... dating someone for two months and not kissing them... is too slow." "it is?" "he's right." lois piped up from her own desk without even turning around in her chair.

clark turned to look at your desk as you sat there, your focus on whatever was on your computer monitor, his lips slightly turning down. what if you had decided you didn't like him anymore?

you were packing up your bag when clark walked to your desk, his satchel already hanging on his shoulder, a tight-lipped smile on his face. you looked up, "oh, hi clark. everything alright?"

"yes, everything's good." the man nodded, clearing his throat, "could i walk you home? it's getting dark out." you looked out of the window only to be met with a sky so dark blue it bordered on being black. you nodded, offering him a small smile.

the walk to your apartment was quiet, and unlike the usual, breezy quiet, this quiet was uncomfortable, bordering on suffocating, as if the gravel under your feet was louder than usual, as if the streetlights were spotlights pointed right at you.

"well, here we are." you said quietly, keeping your gaze on the ground as you arrived in front of your apartment. "okay..." clark nodded, "uh, sleep well." "you too, clark..." clark turned around, beginning to walk away from you, but you were still glued to where you were standing.

"wait!"

the simple word you let out made the man turn around, and you swallowed as he closed the distance between you two once again, "what is it?"

"do you... do you not actually like me?"

his brows knitted together in confusion, a small wrinkle forming between them, "what makes you think that?"

"it's been two months since i told you i liked you, and you still haven't asked me out on a date. it's alright if you don't like me, but i just wish you'd say something..."

clark's face mirrored the dumbfounded look that jimmy had given him earlier; it was true, he hadn't asked you out on a date. but... he'd just assumed that the outings you went on were dates. you'd told each other you liked the other, you held hands, you-

"clark, can you say something?"

"i..." the man scratched the back of his neck, "to be honest... i thought we were already dating." "what?" "i thought that we've been dating ever since i told you i liked you... i thought we were just taking things slow."

you let out a soft laugh, taking a step closer to him, bringing your hand to rest on his bicep, "i can't believe that i thought you didn't like me because you weren't asking me out, meanwhile you thought we were going out the whole time."

"i guess we should've communicated a bit more." clark let out a bashful laugh, his cheeks slightly reddening, "but... i do really like you. and i want to go out with you."

"good." you bit down on your lower lip, "because i want that too."

before clark could say anything, you shut him up by bringing your lips to his, the man's large hand snaking onto your lower back, pulling you closer to him while the other cupped your cheek. he was too focused on the electricity running through his veins as your lips moved against his, the superhero not even noticing the way the streetlights over you flickered.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @raahosh @biancasisstuff @iamarealmicrowave @angelicp0etry @lolainrainbowz @liloolsi @kissmxcheek @maryjaneeeee @thereallifebambi @girldisrupted @harringtonsbowgirl @danipeppe

𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭! 🧡

[reblogged-by-zoe]

ON RECORD

Clark & you make a sex-tape together.

cw: 18+, pwp, sex tape, p-in-v, established relationship, clark is a big ol meanie in this, he uses his x-ray vision to see how deep he is in you, switch!clark (1.4k wc)

"Hey…what are you…doing?"

You're bent over Clark's lap, fiddling around at your bedside drawer. He's looking at you with confusedly. Palms steadied around your hip as you thrash around over him. He focuses on the antique oak for a second. And then relaxes.

"There's nothing but a couple of books, pills, and a camcorder in there —" he continues, and you peer at him over your shoulder.

"Camcorder. Where?"

Clark sighs. Looking back at the side table. Eyes twitched for a second. "On your left."

You dive right back in and perk right up with the silver device in your hands. Hair mussed from your jerky movements. Clark's brushing the locks away from your face, tucking then behind your ears. "So you interrupted us mid kissing for a camcorder?"

Clark hums into your lips when you kiss him once, and then deeper, "I wanna…—mmh—try somethin' new.." You're cupping around his jaw, kissing and nibbling until he's grabbing you, pulling you away. Blue eyes meeting yours.

"Elaborate…maybe?"

You huff, holding up the camcorder, the device whirring to life after you click the black button. "Just. You could…record me, while we..."

"You want me to record you while we're being intimate?"

A prolonged groan leaves you, and you're nudging it in his hands. "If you wanna put it so innocently. Yes. I want you to film me while giving me back shots —"

Clark's holding you by your jaw. Thumbs squishing your cheeks to shush you before easing his grip. "Geez louise, alright. Alright. I got that. But…wouldn't that sort of…I don't know…get really dirty?"

"Really? You think so?"

He's looking at the way your eyes glint at that, biting your lower lips and taking your gaze over him predatorily.

"You're not going to give this up now are you?"

Clark's shoulder slumps back as you scoot backwards. Seated on your thighs all coy and sweet. Fixing your blouse as well as you could.

He adjusts the camera up, holding your face in frame, the RECORD button going active.

"How do I look?"

Clark smiles behind the camera, looking at you through the screen and then tilting his head askew to look at you in real time. "Gorgeous as always."

You roll your eyes. "Can you try being less farm-boy nice and more, amateur porno-video taker?"

"….Fine. Take your blouse off."

You let out an amused giggle, popping the buttons off one by one. "See? You've got some spunk on you."

"Well I'm hoping to be getting some spunk in you."

"Yeah okay no, don't try to do the dirty talk."

Clark's lips pressed into a taut smile, shaking his head in embarrassment. "Maybe I'm at my depth here." He begins, but you grip around his wrist. Tutting.

"Relax. It's all in good fun. Follow my lead?"

You're tugging at his sweats, his half-hard cock bobbing up at his abdomen. Clark grunts at the obnoxious whistle you give at the sight. You grin, looking up into the camera lens as you take your first lick up the prominent vein running up his cock.

"W—…woah.." He lets out a breath all at once. Transfixed on the viewfinder. "You…look…"

He doesn't get to the end of his sentence. Biting back another gasp the way your lips stretch around the girth of his cock. You pull away, a string of saliva following.

"Good?" You mumble, mouthing at his cock.

"Yeah." Clark huffs out. His hand coming in view of the frame, thumbing your jaw with reverence. "You look amazing." It comes out embarrassingly shaky.

The camcorder somehow remains stead with his other hand. You take him in deeper, bobbing your head up and down, "g-gosh—…" Clark's head tilts back, the weight of his palm rested firm on the back of your head.

You pull off from him entirely. The pink of your tongue catching the dribbles of pre-cum on your lips. Clark looks to you hazily when you stop. When you get his attention again, you smile sweetly up at him. Kissing upward, where the coarse hairs let up to his belly button.

"Look….straight out of a dirty magazine…" He mumbles, holding the camera away. Clark leans down to kiss you, tugging you back up with a firm hold around your chin.

"Mmn..this won't work if you keep—mmh…turning the camcorder away." Clark smiles against your lips, turning you over with one fluid movement. Resting you on your belly.

"I had something different in mind."

Clark places the device down facing the two of you, twisting the view finder flap so you could see your yourselves.

You tilt your head back at Clark who was positioning himself behind you, squealing when he hiked your hips up to slot a pillow beneath your belly.

"Comfy?"

Your content mhm has Clark leaning down to kiss at the back of your neck and collarbone, making you giggle at the ticklish feeling it incites.

Clark's hand cradles your jaw to lift your head up just enough to draw your attention back at the camcorder.

"See that? I prefer that sight much.." He kisses your cheek. "Much.." Another kiss up your ears. "Better." You bite down on your cheeks. Legs kicking back and forth playfully. He grabs around your shorts, tugging them down at one go.

"There's nothing sexy about just seeing my face, Clark." Your voice comes out shaky, hips lifting just enough for him to drag his cock over your folds. You don't notice how he's eyeing the view finger. And he smirks.

"Are you aware of the 'face' you're making?"

"What?"

Clark nudges himself into you. Inch by inch, and your eyes flutter, the whites visible. "Ughh—!" He leans down, hips snapping once, letting you feel the sting from the stretch of him.

"Hey," he reminds. His bicep curling around your jaw, your cheeks rested up between the muscles in a headlock. "Eyes on the camera, remember?"

You grunt at him reminding you on your own words. Clark moves his hips in slow, deep strokes, drawing stuttered, groans out of you. "Sh—Shit! Cl…ark…s'deep…so…dh—eep!"

He's relentless with the pace he sets. His other palm snaking down to rub at your clit. "Clark!" You're whining into his biceps. Biting and drooling all over him. Clark leans down, an airy laughter ghosting the shell of your ear.

"Oh sweet thing, gettin' too much for you?"

"H-Hardly.." You're barely able to keep your eyes from rolling back again, but it's impossible with how deep his cock was pressing in your pussy. The build up comes out of nowhere, you're tensing around his cock, in spasms, and then your body goes limp.

Clark presses a kiss at the side of your cheek before he's housing your body, boneless still, to straddle him instead. Sitting you down on his cock with a scary strength. "Nngh!"

You're clawing at his chest in a stabilising effort. Panting, still feeling overcome with your earlier release. "C'mon. Give me a show." He mutters boyishly through a lustful gaze, holding the camcorder up, but just enough to capture what was below your neck.

"Mean. You're mean." You grumble under your breath. Grinding your hips down onto him with a stuttered breath. "Cl—aaark."

"Wh—aat?" He repeats your whine with a teasing smile. Thumbing your clit, watching you jolt beneath. Clark's palm kneads at your breast gently, a low huff leaving his lips as his thumb grazes down your midriff.

You seem to catch him staring absentmindedly at your belly, swiping over where his cock poke at your stomach. "Wh…what are you looking at?"

He hums gently, smiling lopsided. "If you could see what I'm seeing…how deep I am in you." You don't catch what he mutters, only how he's turning you beneath him.

The device left beneath him. "Should I be nicer?" Clark leans in, kissing at your jaw. Rocking his hips into you a gentler pace. You're whining into his neck, tears pricking the corner of your eyes at how easily he was filling you.

"Be nicer to my pretty…pretty girl?" Your thighs clench tightly around his hips, nodding into his shoulder desperately, without saying a word.

"S'what I thought." He smiles against your neck, glancing over at the abandoned camcorder beside, turning it over just enough to capture them in missionary.

Clark turns his attention back to you, whispering into your skin enough to send shivers down your spine, "give me one more sweet girl.." Your eyes flutter shut, letting Clark's relentless thrusts tip you over the edge once more. "G—god. Damn" He pants into your cheeks, hips stuttering. The sensation of his cum spurting deep in you has you coming at the same time, pussy pulsing around his cock, milking him for its' worth.

You're giggling, all fucked out, cheeks nuzzled into the messy sheets next to your face. Clark leans down to assualt you with a barrage of kisses, "shall we?"

Lazily, you turn to look at him, squinting. "Shall we what?"

"Do what you wanted."

Clark turns you over, thumbing where his cum leaks from your spent folds. Your own words come back to haunt you as a reminder. He reaches out for the cam corder, looping the thread in his palms.

'Yes. I want you to film me while giving me back shots'.

Oh boy.

[reblogged-by-zoe]

GIRL NEXT DOOR

Clark takes care of his neighbour.

cw: 18+, smut, dry humping, mention of alcohol, somnophilia (clark humps you while he's dreaming), cumming in his pants, he takes care of her when she's drunk

Clark was used to seeing her in the hallways of his apartment at odd hours.

Like clockwork, Mondays through Thursdays with her laptop in hand & a bag to match and Fridays to Sundays with her skin in glitter — heels dangling from her fingers.

She'd always shoot him an excited wave, grin lopsided and unlike her reserved look she had when she was her 'other' self. Clark on the other hand would always nod politely regardless, even when the heels in her hands were traded for thick theory books.

He'd always thought it was amusing, seeing her so carefree with the slip of alcohol, and sprung back tight when she had to stay sober by necessity. It was a routine he began looking forward to — little run-ins he had with his enigmatic neighbour.

Tonight, however, Superman couldn't.

The exhaustion of being two people at once caught up with him in times like this. So he headed straight into his apartment from his balcony entrance. Melting straight back into Clark — with a comfortable white faded out graphic shirt that sat too snug around his biceps from his teenage days & worn out plaid pajama pants.

He'd only just settled down his couch when he hears a loud beep of his door, followed by a forceful rattle. Getting up warily, his eyes twitch in focus, intending to use his x-ray vision. Though he stops himself when he hears a feminine string of curses on the other side.

Clark raises his brow, padding over to swing it open with one fluid motion, the intruder thudding face first into chest with an oomph.

There you were, his neighbour. Cheeks smushed onto his chest with a confused pout, mascara smeared and glitter on your cheekbones. "Heyyyy it's m'neighbour!"

Your voice was pitched, giggling as you stumble back and away to poke at Clark's chest.

Clark tips his head in question. Nodding to your words with a tight smile. "I think you…have the wrong door." He tries gently. Hands hovered over your shoulder in case you fell over.

"Mmm I think you're at the wrong door misstur Clent Kark."

Clark huffs out a laughter. "Am I?"

You ignore him, pointing at his apartment number on the door that clearly read 608.

"Thissis 609."

His lips purse together, as though in thought. Nodding to himself in agreement of her very bold proclamations. She'd already been swaying dangerously unsteady in those too high heels of hers, and frankly, Clark didn't feel comfortable letting her be in her own apartment.

He leans against the door frame with his elbow bracing the other side. "Mm. You're right. That's my bad. Do you mind if I crashed here for the night, then? You know. Just so I don't fall and hurt myself." He says with a shrug, completely lucid.

Grinning, you offer a dramatic bow. "Very well then, good sir. You may." You giggle as you duck underneath his arm, and then suddenly. But then you stopped halfway in. Whipping your head to look up at him.

"Ya know. You look a wholleelot like Spuperman."

Clark stills in place. Feeling around at his face, realising that he might've left his glasses by the bathroom sink. Panic churns in him, until she blows raspberries, dismissively waving it off. Already distracted, pointing into his apartment.

"You even moved my couch! Verrrryyyy sneaky of you."

"Mmhm."

With a few stumbles, you'd made yourself at home on his couch, falling belly first over the arm rest in your too short dress. Clark's eyes zeroes in on your unintentional flashing, choking when he sees the lacy black thong curved around your ass.

Good lord. He instantly whips his head to the side, pressing his thumb and fore fingers at the bridge of his nose. Willing himself to forget what he'd just seen.

"Let me…grab you something more comfortable." He takes a few steps before turning to you sternly, you perked up when he holds his palm face down. "Stay still."

"Yessssir." You shoot him a sweet look, before collapsing entirely into the lumps.

Clark's search was abandoned when he hears a clatter in his kitchen, returning to see that you were definitively not on the couch.

He turns to see you half climbing onto his counter top, stretching for the higher tier of his cabinets. "What the —" His instinct snap into overdrive, sturdy hands squeezing at your waist to pick you off the granite. "Woah!" A delighted squeal leaves you when he plucks you with ease. You were so out of it you hadn't even questioned the gust of wind that followed when he appeared before you in a flash.

There's a brief moment where he turns you around, a little rough, his palms spanning a large portion of bare skin of your dress. You look up at him through your lashes, dazed. His heat permeating beneath his palm.

Clark feels it too, and immediately creates distance, plopping you onto the counter top.

He coughs, as if to distract his own thoughts, "you need something, you ask me, okay?"

There's an odd gentleness in his words, despite his serious look. You tut, blatantly poking at where there's faint indents of his dimples.And then, you hum loudly in thought "mmmmwellmy feetshurtin'n'myfaceisalluncomfortableanthenthis dress issuffocatingandalso…"

Clark shushes you at once a squeeze of your lips, "Geez louise. We'll go at it one at a time."

Without further questioning, he leans over you to unfasten the hooks of your strappy heels, slipping them off your feet. You're taking that opportunity to wrap your arms at the expanse of his broad back, which he grunts at.

All his amusement vanishes he sees reddened peeling at the back of your ankles.

She must've been hurting all night, he thinks.

With a slow exhale, he pats on your thigh. "Hold tight." You don't register what he means until you feel his strong arm curl around your hips, foisting you over his shoulder with ease.

You're cackling at the sudden shift of weight, clearly enjoying it with how your feet sway back and forth while he walks you to his bedroom, rambling something about being on Clark Airlines.

"Mmhm." He hums, acknowledging your yapping while he sets you on his mattress from a low height, causing you bounce slightly, cooing at the experience still.

Clark looks at you, jaw visibly tensing at how your dress had shifted completely out of place. He swipes his nose, not looking at how your tits were practically about to spill out. "Uh.."

He places his a hand on his hip, holding out a shirt for you to wear. "Think you can dress yourself?"

You laugh and fall back flat, rolling away, which was answer enough.

He grabs at your ankle to drag him back towards him, earning another squeal from you. With his eyes squeezed shut, he takes on the task of undressing you in the most un-sexy and un-romantic manner possible, battling with a shrill,"mmmmmffhhgggg I can't seeeee!"

"Good—gosh, that's not the head-hole, that's the arm-hole!"

He's practically suffocating you at this point, but he gets the job done, even if it meant you giving him that annoyed pouty look you had now. Hair all messy and sticking to your face.

You're wriggling when he holds your jaw taut, dabbing the makeup off your face with wet wipes. He swipes your hair off your cheeks with his knuckles. The action seems to soothe you. It's easier now with his gentle touches lulling you to sleep after your hyperactive show. By the time he was done, your head was bobbing in a sleepy manner.

The corner of his lips twitches into a smile as he lays you down onto his bed, letting out an exhausted sigh. Even a toddler would've been more well behaved. Clark sits next to your curled figure, gently tucking your hair behind your ears. Thumbing the underneath of your eyes where your lashes met his fingers.

"Quiet suits you much better."

You blink awake after awhile. Mouth dry, with your head filled with cotton. The dizziness that took you had you groaning when you sat upright. You're looking around at the unfamiliar room with squinted eyes. Stopping short of the larger figure slumped into a brown leather arm chair.

His chest rose and dipped steady and deep, thighs parted and arms hanging loose on the hand rest. Suddenly, your mouth feels drier than it begins with at the throb it incites in your gut. You swallow thickly, then blinking down at yourself.

You grabbed at the fabric, pulling it away from your chest. You don't remember putting this on, a shirt faintly smelled of fresh laundry, and a tinge of citrus. You then glance over to Clark, making a slow move towards him.

The floors look shake when you take a first stand, hem of the crumpled shirt falling to cover half your thighs. You take another step, and begin to tip-toe as though it helped with your balance. You giggle, out of breath when you reach Clark who was still fast asleep from his own exertion of the day.

You drag your gaze over him, biting the inside of your cheeks at how the fabric across his chest tenses with every breath. It's a last minute decision when you clumsily scoot over onto him, knees pressing to either side of him before you fold into his lap, much like a cat.

His warmth provides you with more motivation to cuddle into the source of the heat. You feel him subconsciously hike you further up, arm curling around the back of your hips to hold you flush onto him.

It's innocent enough. Clark was sturdy, unlike any man you'd met in your life. Up till now, you were only ever offered the concept of him, flittering next door with a nod at you even when you looked awful from classes.

It was all semantics now. All that mattered was just how firm he felt, and how you'd slowly begun to rock your hips mindlessly onto him. Clark doesn't react to it at first. But his body quickly picks up on the dull friction provided. Sending all his blood down south.

You were already falling back to sleep with your head flush onto his shoulder. Hips slowing ever so slightly. But he was deep in his own dreams.

And in his dream? Clark Kent was fucking his cock into your tight pussy. You're still that pretty dress you sauntered in with. He thinks about tugging your dress down to paw at your tits, squeezing them.

His hip bucks to the thought. And gosh he felt good. Scarily so when he rocked into you. He feels his cock quickly hardening beneath the plaid.

In Clark's dream, you were compliant, soft, and needy. He drinks in all your moans, thumbing at your clit just to feel your hips jump.

His grip around your waist tightens, breathing onto the side of your head, heavier now, tilting his hips to meet the scarily real warmth and wetness that was meeting his grinds.

"Mmn, Clark—.."

Your moans sounded too real. He doesn't question it. Clark moves faster and harder, rocking and grinding his hard cock into the wet, slick pressure on him.

"More…more…"

He groans out loud this time, his thighs tensing at the dulled ache he feels at his balls. He was close. So close. He's grabbing with both hands now, on the softness beneath his palm.

Clark is fully rolling his hips, humping mindlessly at the slickness he feels. It hits him all at once when he cums in jolts, the warmth bubbling and spilling back onto him. He breathes heavy onto the silky soft strands that constricted him.

It's then he blinks awake. Groggy. Looking down to see you curled on his lap.

His breath catches his throat when he realises the uncomfortable wetness where the two of you are connected.

[reblogged-by-zoe]

Two heartbeats

Pairing: Johnny Storm x reader Word Count: 4.9k

Description: You agree to help Reed test his new baby scanner for Sue, so he can collect some baseline data from a non–pregnant woman. But when the screen lights up with a tiny heartbeat, you realize you’ve got some crazy news to break to Johnny.

Tags/warnings: established relationship, mildly soft Reed, Johnny hovering, accidentally finding a pregnancy, panicking over it, comfort, Johnny finding out, fluff, funny and domestic moments <3

Note: all I can say is writing this was so entertaining and heartwarming, there’s just something about the idea of Johnny being a dad😭. Hope you enjoy! 🫶🏼

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The bright lab was mostly quiet, except for the soft humming sound coming from the machine next to you. You sat perched on the edge of a white, medical style platform that looked more intimidating than it probably was. Reed sat on a stool to your left, completely focused on adjusting the controls of his latest invention, a fancy scanner meant for prenatal imaging. You were there as his control subject, since he needed to "create a baseline from a non gestational female", his words. Sue's scan was scheduled for later, if everything worked as expected.

Or at least, that was the plan.

"Alright. The scanner is all set, I'm ready when you are," Reed announced, turning around halfway on his stool to look at you through his thick frame glasses. "Are you comfortable there?"

"I am, actually," you smiled, settling back until your full body rested on the soft leather surface, which, surprisingly, began to warm slowly beneath you. "It's ... warm."

A smile almost ghosted his mouth, but he turned back to the sphered monitor before it could fully form. “Sue tends to get cold in here. I believe adding this feature will make her more inclined to agree to my scans.”

You only gave him a knowing smile. Reed was… Reed, after all.

He wasn’t always able to express care with words, his sentences were more likely to contain statistics or hyper logical reasoning about even the tiniest of details no one noticed or cared about, but his actions spoke louder than words. It was all about the little accommodations, the quiet fixes, the way he noticed discomforts around the building before anyone voiced them. This time was no exception, he didn't think twice about adding a heating feature to the scanner’s seat when his wife had complained about the lab feeling like a freezer last time.

"I bet it's not warmer than me, though," a voice chimed in next to you, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

Ah, yes … Johnny.

Your ever loving boyfriend, who couldn’t stand being more than ten minutes away from you and insisted on being present for this “fake scan” so he could practice holding your hand for future real ones.

Because in his mind, you were in his future that way, not a single doubt about that.

The baby making. Especially, the baby making. The big surprise. The bun in the oven. The endless scans for ultrasound pictures he’d stick to the glass windows of your shared bedroom. The restless nights outweighed by the giggles from a little him ... a little you.

Not today, but maybe one day.

Definitely one day.

And in that hothead of his, he thought what better preparation than watching his brother in law micromanage Sue’s pregnancy through you? At least he could have a little fun with it.

So, naturally, Johnny invited himself to the session. Dragging an extra stool to the lab, sliding on your right side, elbows braced on the platform. His hand found yours as soon as you set your body down.

"You know I can warm you up anytime you want, babe," Johnny shrugged innocently, but his tone was playful as always.

You turned to him amused, a smile already on his face as he leaned definitely way too close to your face, and quickly stole a peck from your lips, earning a soft laugh from you.

Reed sighed next to you, wishing he'd asked you to try the machine in the early hours of the morning before Johnny even woke up. It was his fault after all, he should've known better than bringing it up in front on him. Now he'd have to make it work while you got distracted by ... your distraction.

You instantly noticed his demeanor shift, and gently slipped your hand from Johnny's grasp to lay it flat on the bed, blowing a kiss to him when he opened his mouth to complain. He instantly grinned in triumph, pretending to catch it and placed it over his heart. At least that would keep his hands to himself for a moment.

"All ready now, Reed," you said, offering him an apologetic smile, and he nodded.

"Okay, we're ready to begin. Please just don’t talk," Reed said, his eyes on the display as he pressed buttons, "and try to avoid any unnecessary movement, both of you," he turned slightly, looking over his glasses to glare at your hovering boyfriend.

Which was, unfortunately, a straight dare for Johnny to lean closer against the platform beside you, the corner of his mouth curving into a grin.

"You hear that babe? No unnecessary movement. Don't breathe, not even a little," he said in the most serious tone he could use. "... except if you wanna, you know, lean on me a little," he winked, then nudged your shoulder with his. “I wouldn’t mind.”

You tried not to smile this time when he wiggled his eyebrows, for the sake of the test and the remaining of Reed's sanity, which only made him grin wider.

"Johnny," Reed scolded without looking up, "I need her still, and I need quiet so I can concentrate."

"Hey, I'm just here to supervise," Johnny protested. "Make sure you're not poking her with anything weird."

If there was something Johnny loved almost as much as you and space, it was rage baiting his brother in law. And the worst part was, that no matter how incredibly intelligent Reed was, it seemed to work every single time.

"I'm not poking her with anything,” Reed snapped, sighing afterward. "Can you at least step back a little so I can–"

"Nuh-uh, not a chance in the world," Johnny interrupted. "I'm here for emotional support, you know, a dad being present –Ow. Babe!" you elbowed him lightly in the ribs, which made him gasp.

"First of all, you're not a father. This is purely for data gathering purposes," Reed objected without missing a beat, "and you're only here because you followed her in.”

"Yeah yeah, semantics, whatever," Johnny shrugged, raising a hand to dismiss him and turned to you. "Hey, you hungry, princess? I could get you something."

"I'm fine, Johnny," you shook your head, smiling at the gesture, then raising your hand to press a finger on his lips. "Now, shh."

You caught Reed rubbing the bridge of his nose, muttering something about how he should have asked literally any other woman in the planet who didn't have Johnny Storm joint at their hip.

"The sequence is starting now. I just need five minutes," he sighed for the fourth time in three minutes, and then pressed a few more buttons, his posture stiffening. "Please Johnny, just five, no more talking."

"Alright, alright. I can be quiet for five minutes," he raised his hands in surrender, finally leaning back.

It lasted five whole seconds.

"So," he began, leaning toward you again. "Tell me about the first time you saw me."

You sighed at the question Johnny liked to ask at least once a week. You were happy to answer it every time, just not in front of his brother in law. So you put a hand on his chest to push him back a little, before Reed's patience snapped completely.

"Johnny, angel, you know what? Actually I am hungry," you said, playing with the fabric of his shirt. "I am craving some oranges."

"Oranges?" Johnny's whole demeanor shifted, still grinning, but now with that eagerness to please you sparkling in his eyes.

"Yes, fresh ones," you nodded, slightly biting your lip. "Pretty please?"

“You got it, fresh ones from the market," he grabbed your hand from his chest and placed a kiss on it, making you chuckle once again.

Why was he so annoyingly sweet?

Satisfied with your reaction, he got up from his stool, the little seat's wheels rolling back as he made his way to the elevator's doors. Not without turning around halfway, looking at you while pointing accusingly at Reed.

"Don't let him poke you with needles or draw blood from you. I will sue," then he winked at you, backing to the elevator. "Give me five minutes, ten tops."

And after a shameless wink, the elevator doors slid closed, and he was gone. Leaving a very relieved Reed alone with his scan and you trying very hard not to laugh at the way he exhaled like he'd been holding his breath under water this whole time.

"Thank you," he said genuinely, turning back to his controls. You just hummed in acknowledgment.

You held your breath as the machine made a louder hum, a halo of pale blue light swept over you from head to toe.

"You can breathe normally," Reed said, noticing your stillness. "Just don't move anything else, please."

You let your gaze wander over the colorful room while the scanner did the work. There were gadgets on every counter, Sue's latest ultrasound printed and stuck on the corner of Reed's giant blackboard, a mug that said 'Fantastic dad' that Johnny told Ben to buy Reed as a joke but he wholeheartedly gave it to the man. You smiled at the memory.

The thought of Sue and Reed’s baby being there in a just a months was amazing and terrifying at the same time, and it wasn’t even yours.

And now that Johnny wasn't hovering anymore, and Reed's focus was solely on the screen in front of him, the quiet of the room allowed you to think about what Johnny said earlier.

'A dad being present'

There was a time where you thought something like that was impossible due to his altered DNA, but Sue and Reed had shown you the possibility was still there.

And the more you thought about it, the more it made you want to build that with Johnny. It wasn't a crazy idea, not at all, but it was something you'd projected into the far future.

Definitely one day.

"Huh," Reed's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, his eyebrows furrowed as he leaned closer to the screen.

"Something wrong with the machine?" you asked, trying to not make a big fuss about it, it was a new equipment after all.

He didn't answer immediately. Just tapped his keyboard twice, then leaned even closer, eyes squinting and his whole expression sharpening. The scanner made another low pass over your midsection.

"Hmm," there it was, another weird monosyllable.

"That's a suspicious 'hmm'," you said, sitting up a bit straighter.

"Not suspicious at all," Reed said quickly. "Just interesting ... please lean back down, it's not done."

His fingers moved over the console again, adjusting settings. The scanner passed over you once more, slower this time, and you noticed a small, unconscious shift in his posture. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, blinked at the display, then adjusted the image like maybe the machine had made a mistake.

Again.

"Okay, you're being really weird now. Even for you, Reed," you half joked, hoping that would ease the sudden nerves invading your body.

"I just … wasn't expecting to see–" he paused, hesitating, glancing toward the door as if Johnny might burst in at any second.

"See what?" you pressed, fully panicking now.

The machine beeped softly with results for the third time, like it was confirming whatever he'd already noticed the first. Then Reed suddenly stood up from his stool and paced in his spot, folding his arms.

"There are certain... biological markers. In fact, they're very specific markers. I'd like to run the scan one more time to confirm."

"No. No more scans," you fully sat up now, suddenly understanding Sue's dread of those. "Just tell me, is there something wrong with me?"

Your tone actually made him jerk his head in your direction, shaking his head profusely.

"No," his voice was quiet but certain. Not comforting either, though. "No, absolutely not."

"Then what is it?"

Reed hesitated, eyes fixing back on the screen. "It's... actually the opposite," he said slowly. His voice wasn't that detached this time, it was still Reed, still cautious, but there was something... warmer underneath.

"Something right, then?"

"Quiet for a moment," he mumbled, pressing the console again. "I want to be sure."

So you stayed still, your heartbeat ringing a little faster in your ears. The scanner made one last pass over your body, beeping one last time with the same results apparently, because Reed stepped back, took a long breath, and blinked a few times like he was pulling himself back into the room with you.

He wasn't exactly expecting to be the first to find out about... that. Now how on earth was he supposed to break news like that? None of his infinite doctorates qualified him to do so.

Reed stalled for a few more seconds, before reaching to the sphere monitor and rotating it in your direction.

"Look at that," he said, pointing to the screen, his voice slightly softer than usual.

On the screen, a small flicker pulsed steadily in the center of a grainy blue and white colored image. You stared at it for a few seconds.

Was that? … No. No it couldn't be.

"...My heartbeat?" you chuckled weakly, because the alternative your head was suggesting was just not possible.

Not right now. Definitely not right now.

Reed arched a brow, his gaze instantly softening. He knew how this part felt. The first moments of denial. The surreality of it. So he approached it as gentle as his capabilities allowed him to.

None of his education had prepared him for something like this, but you were family, even more so now, so he tried his best to use his heart this time instead of his brain. As absurd as that sounded to someone like him.

"It is a heartbeat, and technically, it's yours too. Or, well, more like a part of you."

You stared at it again. That flicker. The steady, insistent beat. You knew what it meant, of course you did, but the words got stuck in your throat and refused to come out.

"Look," Reed took off his glasses, pointing with the frames higher up in the torso scan. "Your heartbeat is here," and then pointed back lower, "and this one is smaller ... much smaller."

Reed studied your face as you kept quiet, something warm blooming in his chest despite his usually clinical nature.

Two 'fantastic babies' this year. Huh. He hadn't seen that coming. Couldn't have predicted it with equations in a million years.

"Okay," you said finally, too casually.

"Just okay?" Reed almost chuckled this time. "You do understand what I'm showing you, correct?"

"Yeah. I... yeah," you nodded slowly, letting out a deep breath. "I'm ..."

But you didn't say it. Couldn't. Because saying it out loud would make it real. And right now, you weren't ready for real. Not without Johnny by your side.

Right. Johnny.

Who wasn't there to hold your hand through it.

Oh my God. How were you gonna tell him?

He was, after all, your emotional support. But who was gonna be his when you were panicking? Oh my god. What if he panics too? Would he be ready? Would you be ready?

All of a sudden, that 'one day' wasn't so far away anymore.

You didn't even notice your breathing had gone shallow until Reed's voice caught your attention.

"Breathe," he said, not commanding, more like a reminder.

"I am breathing," you looked up at him, chest going up and down rapidly.

"Not enough," he replied. Then, in a move that was so unlike him, he reached for your hand. His palms were warm, not as warm as the ones you were used to, but it helped somehow. His hands pressing yours just enough to let you know he wasn't letting go unless you wanted him to.

"Follow me," he said. He took a slow inhale, visibly lifting his chest, and let it out in a slow exhale. "Again."

You tried your best. Inhale. Exhale. It died in your throat halfway out a few times. But he waited, patient as ever, until you tried again. And again. Until the fifth breath felt a little less jagged.

"It's normal to be scared," he said, when your breathing slowed down. "When Sue told me she was pregnant, I–I almost passed out. And that was after two years of planning for it."

Instantly realizing what he confessed, he cleared his throat, before looking at you more serious for a moment.

"Don't tell Johnny," he asked.

A shaky laugh escaped you, and it loosened something in your chest. You shook your head in reassurance. He nodded grateful.

"I know this is... a big pill to swallow. Terrifying, even. But it doesn't have to be faced alone."

Your eyes got glassy before you could stop them.

"We're all a family," Reed continued, repeating what was always said by the others, not much by him, if ever. "Which means your child will never have to go without place to feel like home, or without love. Not with all of us around."

A tear did fall from on your cheek this time, and you let go of his grip to wipe it before Johnny came back.

Oh, Johnny.

Just thinking about him being a father, a dad who is present, his blonde disheveled hair at midnight as he warms baby bottles with his own hands, a tiny bundle sleeping on his chest enjoying the impossible warmth irradiating from his skin. Him playing peek a boo with the funniest faces he can think of.

And for the first time since you saw that flicker on the screen, you believed, if only for a second, that maybe this wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I'm pregnant," you finally said it, the foreign words leaving your lips in a whisper.

Reed's eyes softened, the smallest smile forming in his mouth.

"You're pregnant," he echoed, just as quietly, like repeating it would help you both absorb the reality. He straightened a little, half turning to his machine. "I'd still like to make some more formal scans–"

"Reed."

"I know, I know. Sorry," he apologized, letting out a dry chuckle while shrugging, "but it's ... protocol."

"I'm telling you, Herbert, those oranges were not fresh. That guy was totally lying ... Yeah right? I know. Unbelievable."

Your head snapped at the sound of HERBIE's robotic beeps and Johnny's muffled voice echoing behind the elevator doors, as they arrived to the lab's floor.

"–and so I had to use my charm on the girl next to him, one smile and she went straight to get me the good ones ... I know Herbert, I know, but you have to do what you have to do."

The doors slid open in a ding, revealing a very excited Johnny walking in, toying with an orange from one hand to another as HERBIE trailed behind him holding something you couldn't see from your seat.

"Ah, there you are." Johnny smiled as soon as his eyes landed on you, "now, what did I miss?"

You looked at Reed for a brief second, at the verge of panicking again, but he mouthed a 'just breathe', gesturing with his hand a swift inhale. So you did that, as Johnny crossed the lab until he got to the stool he was previously sat in, with the little droid following him like a lost puppy.

"Got 'em! Did you miss me, babe?" he asked, plopping into his seat.

"I always do," you mumbled, absentmindedly reaching to the orange he was holding, to try to distract yourself with something. "Thank you, Johnny–"

Before you could reach, he yanked back his hand with a laugh. "Don't be silly, this one is for me. Here–"

He turned halfway to HERBIE behind him, and grabbed with his free hand something from the droid's hands, petting his metal head before turning back to offer it to you.

You lowered your eyes at the plate he was holding to you. Probably two oranges, sliced, and placed nicely around the dish. The citrus scent hit you and half scratched that itch you've been having about oranges lately, which ... made a lot of sense now.

"These are for you, bite sized. I'm gonna tell you now, got the best ones in the city," he leaned down to kiss your forehead, and added with a cocky grin, "go on, tell me I'm amazing."

He was. God, he was.

But it wasn’t the oranges what hit you the most, it was the way Johnny went about it. How you wouldn't need to feel scared, or not ready, when he was willing to take on even the smallest of requests with intention, just to put a smile on your face.

So you couldn't hold it together any longer, and lunged forward to wrap your arms around his neck, the plate of oranges falling from his hand to your lap, small slices scattering across the platform. You buried your head in his neck, not being able to hold the tears anymore. Johnny instinctively wrapped his arms around your body, a hand still holding his orange for dear life as he stared confused at Reed.

“Woah– what happened baby?” he asked softly, bringing his free hand to stroke your hair as you cried into his chest. “What did you do, Richards?” His tone got weirdly serious now, even for Johnny.

“Me? N-nothing!” Reed blurted offended, which only made Johnny glare at him.

“Did Reed lecture you about moving during the scan? I told you, babe, you don’t have to listen to him when I’m not here.”

Reed’s mouth opened to protest, but chose to keep quiet. He glanced at you, still clinging to Johnny for dear life. He took a deep breath. He knew what this was like, so he just let Johnny continue until you chose to tell him.

“She was okay when I left, and now she’s crying in my arms –hey hey, it’s okay baby– so what could have possibly happened while I was gone?”

His tone to Reed was serious, but when he looked down at you it got incredibly softer. You sniffed a few times, pulling apart from him to wipe your eyes and give him a teary smile.

“I’m fine, Johnny, really,” you reassured, sniffing again, “It’s just … I don’t–“ you looked at Reed, nodding at him so he could help you a little.

Reed took off his glasses, and folded his hands behind his back in that way that meant ‘I’m about to say something big and I’m choosing my words carefully’. You just kept your gaze on Johnny.

“The scan revealed some … unexpected results.”

Well, so much for choosing your words carefully.

“Unexpected like… bad unexpected, or ‘hey, you have an extra kidney’ unexpected?” Johnny asked, squinting.

“Having an extra kidney would be bad unexpected too, Johnny,”

“We could always get it out and sell it,” he shrugged, rolling his eyes playfully to make you laugh, and when you inevitably did, relief washed over his face for a second.

Okay, it couldn’t be that bad if he was able to make you laugh after that breakdown. His heart could calm down a little now.

“Well, actually… neither,” Reed said.

His gaze shifted between the two of you before settling on the monitor that was still facing your direction. Johnny glanced at the screen, still expecting to see that third kidney. Instead, he tilted his head and his eyebrows pulled together.

“Huh,” he exhaled.

Funny, his first reaction was identical to Reed’s.

You watched him stare at the screen, and you could almost see the gears turning under all that blonde hair. Because Johnny Storm was a lot of things, loud, playful, endlessly distracting, but he was also sharp. And he wasn’t missing what was right in front of him.

Two heartbeats.

“Is uh– Is that what I think…?” his eyes flicked to you, you were already smiling, still glassy eyed holding the lump in your throat. “Oh my god.”

His mouth fell open a little, eyes darting between Reed, you and the small flicker on the screen for a few times, before it hit him all at once. He finally let go of the orange in his hand, the fruit hitting the floor in a few thuds.

Johnny’s face lit up like sunlight getting through grey clouds. Even HERBIE beeped in awe.

“OH MY GOD!!”

The grin that broke over his face made your heart flutter. He cupped your face in his warm hands before you could even wipe your eyes.

“Babe. Babe,” he chanted enthusiastically, his forehead pressed to yours, voice dropping to a breathless laugh. “We’re having a baby. Oh my god! We’re having a baby! … Herbert I’m gonna be a father!”

You let out a laugh that was half sob, half immense happiness, nodding against him.

He crashed his lips to yours, salty tears mixing in your lips as he kissed you softly, lips slightly pulling back from how wide you both were smiling.

In front of you, Reed stood with his arms crossed, the loveliest smile tugging at his mouth. For once, he didn’t interrupt, didn’t feel like adding facts or disclaimers. He simply turned back to the console and gave you both the moment.

That was, until Johnny pulled apart from you, realizing how you had just lit his whole world on fire and he was more than willing to stand in the middle of all of it.

“Okay,” Johnny said, still holding your face, “this is fine. This is more than fine. This is … this is amazing.”

“Johnny, I think we should–” you began, but he was already in motion, pacing next to you.

“First of all, we need to stock on food, for all the weird pregnancy cravings you’re gonna have. You want pickles dipped in ice cream? boom, Johnny delivers,” he gestured dramatically with his hands in the air.

Reed sighed, rubbing his temple while mumbling something about Johnny speaking in third person.

“Johnny–“

“And the baby’s room. We’ll paint it… okay, we don’t know boy or girl yet, but that’s fine, we’ll go with something neutral. Like… fire yellow … no, wait, that’s too on the nose. Sky blue? Maybe it could be space themed! … babe they can go to space with us one day, maybe Reed can make a baby space suit–“

“I am not sending your baby, or any baby for that matter, to space, Johnny.” Reed interrupted flatly, wishing you could go back to hugging and not this unprompted rambling.

“Johnny, angel, maybe we should–“

“Oh, and the clothes, babe the clothes! Little tiny onesies with flames on them. Reed, you have to make them in fireproof clothing, how else is it gonna be safe for me to hold them?”

“Johnny!” you leaned forward to put your hands on his chest and gently dragged him towards you. “Can we maybe process this before we start designing the nursery?”

He stopped mid ramble, eyes fixing on yours. And for the first time since Reed dropped the news, he hesitated. “Wait, you’re… okay with this? I mean, I’m over the moon, obviously, but… are you?”

You exhaled, reaching to fix a strand of his hair. “Johnny there’s nothing I want more in this life, than to have a family with you,” you reassured, meaning every single word, “but we didn’t even know about this ten minutes ago.”

Johnny’s smile softened. He grabbed your hand and lifted it to his lips, holding a kiss there for a moment.

“Okay. We’ll do this together, slowly, as a family,” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, and this time you were the one who jumped at his lips.

This time it was a bit rougher, clinging to him with fists clenched on his shirt, like putting all the overwhelming weight of it all into the kiss. Reed, who was still there, cleared his throat before you started making another baby right there and then. On his new scanner. That he built for his wife but now it would work for you too.

He was gonna have to get used to Johnny hovering all the time now.

“You should both take some more proper tests to confirm everything is okay with your baby, before making any further plans.”

“Yeah, yeah, Reed,” Johnny dismissed, already wrapping an arm around your waist to help you come down the platform, and guide you toward the door, but he halted midway. “Wait both? why me? I swear to god Richards, if you poke me–“

“No one is going to poke any of you here, Jonathan. Ever. I already told you, and it sure as hell won’t be me if it’s ever required,” Reed rolled his eyes, already relieved to see you both make your way to the elevator so he could work in peace.

He could only be happy for so long, before his mind inevitably went to overthink about how on earth you were all going to survive two super babies at the same time. But before he could get lost in his head, Reed turned to thank HERBIE, who was humming cheerfully to himself as he picked up the orange slices from the table. The little droid then rolled toward you, offering the plate with a chirp.

“Thank you, HERBIE,” you smiled, and Johnny pet his head in gratitude.

“Alright, we’ll do all that science stuff later, Reed. Right now…” He glanced down at you, his lovely grin back in full force. “I’m getting my girl more snacks ... and maybe also ice cream. Just in case that pickle phase hits early.”

Even behind all the joking and amusement in his face, the glint in his eyes quietly told you he was looking at the most important thing in the whole universe. Those two heartbeats.

But no, it wasn’t just two heartbeats after all.

Because with Johnny by your side, it was three.

⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆

Part two is on the way!

feedback is always appreciated, thank you so much for reading 🫶🏼

[reblogged-by-zoe]

𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

pairing: dark step-father!robby robinavitch x f!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni. taboo. dub con -> noncon. reader is over 21. pussy pronouns. fingering. asphyxiation. special guest appearance! no beta. w.c: 518

author's note: well, I finally did it. I finally wrote some dark!Robby.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬

The second your mother backed out of the driveway, your stepfather pinned you against the kitchen countertop. 

Your spine curves under the hard marble as the older man presses his larger body into yours. "Thought she'd never leave." Robby grits, hastily shoving one of his sleeves up his forearm and licking two long fingers before shoving them under your skirt and past the elastic of your panties. 

A deep groan rumbles from his chest as he finally gets his hands on you. "Been thinkin' of her all day," he confesses, swiping his digits across your slick folds. His fingers worm their way into your warmth, making you hiss from the invasive touch and immense stretch. 

A devious smirk tugs at his lips. "Poor thing. She's so fuckin' tight."

His free hand covets the back of your neck, encircling the fragile column, easily allowing him to meet your wary, wide-eyed stare as he slowly begins to fuck you with his fingers.  

"S'ok, Sweetheart. Just give in." He presses soft kisses along your hairline, trying his best to soothe the worry from your brow. The graying, dark brown whiskers of his beard bristle the shell of your ear as he leans in, "You know it feels better when you do."

Wet, sticky sounds fill the room despite your effort to rid his hand from between your thighs. The pleasure he pulls from your body makes it hard to breathe, let alone think straight.

The heel of his hand grinds your sensitive clit while he scissors your velvet walls. He curls his competent fingers against that hidden spot, the one that makes you come hard enough to see stars. He teases the spongy spot just enough to make you pitifully writhe in his arms. 

"Got a friend comin' over tonight." He begins, standing straight until he can hold your frantic gaze once more. "Remember, Jack?"

A raspy mewl slithers from your lips as your core involuntarily tightens around his fingers. You anxiously paw at his chest, digging your smaller digits into the soft, strong muscle that's hidden beneath his shirt.  

Robby chuckles at the way your body responds to his best friend's name. "'Course you do, Sweetheart." He tenderly rubs a thumb along your carotid, feeling the rapid thrum of your heart as your nerves begin to spike. "We're gonna have some fun tonight, like old times."

Your strength pales in comparison to his, but still you push, desperate to free yourself from the older man. Robby's skilled thumb presses down on your carotid, cruelly denying the supply of blood to your brain. "No need to be nervous. We know how to take care of you, don't we?"

Robby's cock throbs as he watches your eyes unfocus and your body slowly go limp in his arms. He softly caresses your cheek just as the front door opens and an uneven tread pads through the house. 

"In here, Jack!" Robby yells out.

A sturdy, silver-haired man stands at the precipice of the kitchen with his hands on his hips and a slight frown on his face. "Looks like you started without me."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[reblogged-by-zoe]

heartbeat

Pairing: David!Clark Kent x reader

Summary: you make Clark's heart beat faster < 3

Word count: 2.2+

Warnings: fluff, idiots being in love

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The first time Clark asked you out, it was in the most un-Clark-like way possible.

Not the usual quiet charm he was known for. Not a well-rehearsed plan or a charming line delivered with that soft, blue-eyed confidence.

No.

It was a panicked, typo-ridden text sent from behind a stack of grocery bags while he was halfway through rescuing a kitten from a rain gutter.

Literally.

He’d seen you earlier that day—just in passing, outside the café you liked. You were laughing at something your friend had said, clutching a half-melted iced coffee, hair catching the sunlight in a way that made Clark blink a little too long. And in that moment, his brain had just… short-circuited.

He’d liked you for weeks. Possibly longer. Possibly since the first time you’d smiled at him in the newsroom and said his name like it meant something. You had this way of leaning in when you listened, like every word mattered, and it made Clark—who was used to being heard, but not always seen—feel like he was standing in sunlight, even on cloudy days.

But he hadn’t said anything. Because how was he supposed to? How did someone like him ask someone like you out without sounding like a weirdo? Or worse, without scaring you off?

He told himself he’d wait for the right moment.

The right moment never came.

Instead, he found himself standing outside a bodega at 7:13 PM with two bags of groceries balanced in one hand, a struggling orange tabby under his other arm, and an absurd amount of adrenaline in his veins. The kitten had been stuck in a drain. Easy save. But while he was floating her down onto the sidewalk behind a dumpster—carefully making sure no one could see—the thought hit him again:

You. Your laugh. Your eyes. That look you gave him this morning.

And then, completely unprompted, his fingers opened his phone. He wasn’t even thinking. It was like his thumbs had mutinied.

The message he typed (and almost deleted six times) read:

hey! this is clark (kent, from work lol). ok this is random and probably weird BUT i’ve been meaning to ask you out and i kept chickening out so here it is. me. asking. you. out. coffee? not weird coffee. normal coffee. unless you like weird coffee then i can—what am i saying. anyway, let me know :)

He stared at it. Too long. Every part of his brain screamed to throw his phone in the gutter with the cat hair.

And then the kitten meowed, claws digging into his jacket, groceries slipping.

Clark hit send.

Immediately regretted it.

“Oh god,” he muttered, shifting the cat. “I just sent a gremlin message to the most beautiful person I’ve ever met while holding a box of Frosted Flakes and a stray animal.”

His face was on fire. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

What made it worse—infinitely worse—was that he could hear yours too. Not in that moment, of course. But on normal days, when you were around him. Your heart always sounded warm, like a steady hum beneath your voice. And now, all he could think about was how fast yours would beat when you read his message. Would it flutter? Or would it flatline in secondhand embarrassment?

He nearly turned around and flew to the moon.

And then his phone buzzed.

hi clark kent from work :) i was wondering when you were going to ask. coffee sounds great. weird coffee preferred.

Clark’s knees almost gave out right there on the sidewalk.

And now, twenty-five days later—not that Clark was counting or anything—here you were. Curled into the broad warmth of his chest, his flannel shirt bunched slightly under your cheek, a half-finished bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and Pretty Woman playing its DVD menu on loop for the third time.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. Just that it felt right—your hand resting lazily over his heartbeat, your legs tangled somewhere under the shared throw blanket, his thumb gently brushing circles into your back. Like your body decided this was the safest place on earth and clocked out early.

Clark stirred before you did.

He blinked up at the ceiling, the echo of animated music looping in the background, and immediately became aware of three things:

You were still asleep on his chest. His arm had gone numb. He didn’t want to move even a millimeter of you.

Because God—seeing you like this, sleeping so soundly, so close, so soft against him—it made something ache in the back of his throat. You weren’t just beautiful. You were luminous. Your lashes brushed your cheek. Your lips were parted just slightly. And even your breathing, rhythmic and slow, had a quiet elegance to it.

He felt like he shouldn’t be allowed to witness it.

“Not fair,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “You make gravity feel like it’s pulling toward you.”

He paused, cringing slightly at his own corny line. But you didn’t stir. Just shifted slightly, pressing your nose into the crook of his neck with a sleepy sigh.

Clark swallowed hard.

And then—because Clark was Clark—his heart betrayed him.

Beep. Buzz.

“Elevated heart rate detected.”

The robotic voice of his smartwatch whispered like a megaphone in the stillness, shrill and traitorous.

Clark’s eyes widened in horror.

No. No no no.

He moved too quickly, instinct overriding logic—his upper body tensed, trying to sit up—a mistake. A massive mistake. Because you stirred instantly, murmuring something incoherent as you shifted sleepily against him. Your hand slid down his chest, your cheek nestled closer.

Clark froze, mid-motion, his entire being stiff with panic, like a deer caught in the world’s coziest headlights.

His hand scrambled down to his wrist, fingers fumbling over the tiny touchscreen like he was trying to defuse a bomb with mittens on.

Buzz.

“Elevated heart rate—”

“No,” he hissed under his breath, swiping and tapping with increasing desperation. “Shut up, shut up, shut up—”

And that’s when your eyes fluttered open.

Still soft with sleep, half-lidded and glazed with dream haze, you blinked up at him, voice low and gravelly with just-woken rasp.

“…Clark?”

He froze mid-button-press, wrist still hovering in the air, guilt radiating off him like heat from a fire.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly, his voice rising half an octave like he’d just been caught sneaking cookies before dinner. His smile was crooked, apologetic. Adorable.

You blinked again, then turned your face into his chest slightly, frowning in confusion as the last remnants of sleep cleared. “Was that your watch? Did it just... talk?”

Clark groaned softly and let his head fall back against the couch cushion. “Yes. Unfortunately. It’s one of those fancy health tracker things. Monitors my heartbeat, sends me passive-aggressive updates. You know. Very cutting-edge, very humiliating.”

Your eyebrows knit, amused. “Why is it yelling at you?”

Clark glanced down at the offending device and scowled at it like it had personally betrayed him, which, to be fair—it had. “Because apparently my heart’s decided to throw a rave without asking permission.”

You smiled, one side of your mouth curling upward in that lazy, fond way that made his stomach flip. “Were you… running in your dreams?”

He laughed once—awkward and breathy. Rubbed the back of his neck with the hand not currently being held hostage by your entire body. “No, I—” He paused, caught between pride and panic. “I woke up. And, um.” Another pause. A helpless little shrug.

“I looked at you.”

You blinked at him, still too sleepy to process.

“And I guess,” he added with a quiet, self-conscious laugh, “that was enough to freak out my very expensive piece of wearable tech.”

There was a pause.

You stared at him, processing.

And then, squinting slightly, you said, deadpan: “Are you saying I’m so pretty I gave Superman a heart condition?”

Clark groaned like he was begging the ceiling to smite him. “Please don’t make it worse.”

“No, wait—this is gold.” You pushed yourself up just slightly, bracing your elbows on his chest, your face alight with mischief. “You woke up, saw me drooling on your shirt, and your heart rate spiked?”

“There was no drooling,” he said immediately, like he’d been prepped for that specific accusation. “I would’ve noticed.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Are you sure?”

“I have enhanced vision. I’d know.”

That made you snort.

“And anyway,” he went on, quieter now, the humor still there but gentled at the edges, “you looked… incredible.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. The shift was subtle, but real.

You didn’t say anything at first.

Clark glanced away, a faint flush climbing up the curve of his neck. He was open now in that rare, completely unguarded way he only got when he forgot to be careful. When the mask slipped—not the glasses, not the press badge, but the quiet emotional armor he wore when he was afraid of wanting too much.

“I mean it,” he said. “You looked so peaceful. And beautiful. And… I just thought, wow. I get to be the one who gets moments like this with her.”

He laughed softly, half in disbelief, half in awe. “And I guess my heart took that a little literally.”

You stared at him, the air catching quietly in your chest.

Your voice was smaller when you said, “You’re serious?”

Clark turned to face you again, his expression warm and honest, his eyes holding something so tender it made your stomach flutter and twist all at once.

“Yeah,” he said, simply. “I’m serious.”

And maybe it was the 2AM silence, or the flannel warmth under your fingertips, or the stupid DVD menu still looping behind you like a lullaby—but you didn’t tease. You didn’t joke. You didn’t throw back some clever reply to deflect how vulnerable that made you feel.

You just looked at him. Eyes wide. A little glassy. Full of something you weren’t quite ready to name out loud, but felt all the way down to your fingertips.

“…You’re kind of a sap,” you whispered.

“I warned you on our second date,” he said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I told you I get emotionally attached to coffee mugs. This was inevitable.”

You laughed under your breath, tucking your chin toward his chest again to hide the way your cheeks were burning. “You’re ridiculous.”

Clark dipped his head and kissed the top of yours—slow, quiet, reverent.

“You like ridiculous.”

“Unfortunately,” you mumbled into his shirt, “I really do.”

Then came the silence again. But not the empty kind. Not awkward. Not strained.

It was full.

Full of the things you were both starting to feel but hadn’t quite said yet. Full of trust being layered into the cracks of quiet moments like this. Full of his arm curling more securely around you, like your body belonged there, like he was holding onto something sacred.

And then—so softly, you almost didn’t hear yourself speak:

“Say it again.”

Clark blinked, looking down at you. “Say what?”

You lifted your eyes to meet his, voice hushed. “That you woke up… and looked at me. And thought I was beautiful.”

He stared at you for a moment. Just stared. And then something in his expression shifted, softened, like someone unfolding a secret with gentle hands.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

You bit your lip, exhaling slow.

“My heart rate’s up too, you know,” you said quietly, not even pretending to joke anymore.

He smiled—smaller this time, but impossibly fond. “I can tell.”

You blinked. “…How?”

He hesitated.

“Clark,” you said, suspicious now.

He scratched the back of his head, a sheepish little wince already forming. “Okay, so… slight confession.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What.”

“I can, uh. I can hear heartbeats.”

You stared.

“Like… generally. All the time. From across the city, sometimes. It’s a Kryptonian senses thing. I try not to listen in—it’s like tuning out background noise, but…”

He paused. Then looked at you, earnest.

“Yours is… loud. Not in a bad way! Just—distinct. Like it stands out. Like it’s in harmony with mine.”

You opened your mouth.

Closed it again.

“Wait—So you've listened to my heartbeat before?”

“Not on purpose!” he said quickly, panicking a little. “I swear! I don’t go around eavesdropping on people’s cardiovascular activity. It’s just—yours is different. It’s… I notice it. Even when I’m not trying to.”

You were silent for a long moment.

Then you cracked.

You let out a laugh that was so full and bright it made Clark smile just watching you.

“Clark Kent,” you said between laughs, “are you romancing me using super hearing?”

“…Is it working?” he asked, hopeful.

You groaned and dropped your head to his chest again, cheeks burning.

“Obviously.”

Clark beamed. He pulled the blanket back over you both, tucking it snug around your shoulders, letting the weight of it settle like punctuation over the moment.

Neither of you spoke for a while after that. Not because there wasn’t more to say—but because silence wasn’t empty anymore. It was full of meaning. Full of breath and closeness and the kind of softness that made your whole body feel like it had exhaled.

His heart was still racing.

So was yours.

Beep. Buzz.

“Elevated—”

“I swear to God—” Clark growled, slamming the dismiss button.

You laughed into his chest, and this time, he didn’t mind the sound of his heart pounding at all.

[reblogged-by-zoe]

18+

clark kent has a perfect nose.

so perfect, in fact, that you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t think about it every time you sat on his face. prominent and broad, sculpted as if some divine artisan had intended it specifically for your clit while his mouth devotes itself to everything else.

you’ve never confessed it outright, but you’re pretty certain he knows. the little glint in those soft blue eyes is proof enough, rare as it is for clark to let himself wear anything resembling smugness. and then there’s the moan that escapes you when the bridge of his nose hits just right, an irrefutable admission. he rewards it with a decadent hum, vibrating straight through you, and then doubles down: large hands clamp around your thighs, anchoring you firmly against his face.

your fingers reach for the headboard, but before you can close your grip, his hand shoots up, seizing your wrist mid-air. pink-cheeked and lips swollen from devouring pussy, he looks like a man grievously wronged.

“nuh uh, don’t you dare,”

“huh?” you blink down at him, confused.

“don’t you dare hold onto that when you should be holding onto me. or—” his tongue flicks meanly at your clit, “at least admiring the nose you’re so obsessed with.”

you can’t help but chuckle. truce comes easy: your fingers thread with his, and the reward is instant. a groan that thrums through cartilage and bone until your whole body feels like it’s strung along his face. the mess he’s making of his mouth doesn’t matter; nothing does, ‘cept the fact that he’s far too committed to proving (for what must be the hundredth time) that you’ll always, always be weak for it.

[reblogged-by-zoe]

Since y’all know I’m a sucker for Robby and his breeding kink

—

Robby pulls out every time. Finishing on your stomach, in your mouth, on your face, on your chest. There’s only one place that hasn’t been marked by him.

And you’ve finally had enough. Especially after the way he cradled and hummed to an infant patient today while the mother took a desperately needed break to the cafeteria. The timbre of Robby’s baritone soothed the baby, and she played contently with the strings of his hoodie. Robby smiled at the infant, crinkling around his eyes. He was meant to be a dad.

The sight alone almost brought you to tears. It awoke something in you, no matter how early it might be for those feelings to surface.

Like usual, Robby coaxes you onto his lap on the couch after showering together at the end of the day. The TV plays a rerun of a Penguins game, but you both know it’s for background noise only. His large hands guide your hips over his thick cock until the tip is aligned with your entrance. The blissful sting of being so stretched out never gets old. Robby groans into your mouth as he starts to rock you against him.

It’s slow and lazy at first, most nights are like this. Exhausted from the twelve hour shift, soaking in the warmth of each other after maintaining a professional distance all day, whispering sweet nothings with heavy lidded eyes. And usually, it’s Robby who picks up the pace to reach the finish line.

But not tonight.

You begin bouncing on his cock, rising to your knees and falling back down with a swiftness he’s never seen from any woman. He’s too flustered and pussy whipped to protest that you haven’t come yet, lemme take care of you first. His orgasm is approaching much quicker than usual, and his fingers dig into your plush thighs.

“Where-ah, fuck, baby girl…where do you want me?” He grunts barely break through the wet sounds of your pussy sliding on his length.

You don’t answer him because, well, you’re embarrassed now. Too shy to say it out loud. Too timid to beg for it. So you just keep riding him, harder now. Robby drops his head on the back of the couch, the muscles tensing in his throat underneath his beard.

“‘M so close, gotta tell me.” He nearly whimpers.

You grip his shoulders harder to keep your balance, and the burn of your thighs is getting to be too much. You have to answer him. “Inside.”

Robby snaps his head up, brown eyes blown wide. Not so much with surprise. It was something deeper than that, something more primitive.

“Inside?” He parrots. “You’re not on birth control.”

You moan when you feel his cock twitch inside you, prepping for his release. “I know.”

“Are you gonna take a Plan B?”

The question hangs in the air, and your hips slow just slightly. Your eyes are locked on his, and his stare is intense enough to rip out your answer.

“No.”

No.

Just one word.

It’s a word that people don’t like to hear.

But it makes Michael Robinavitch grin ear to ear, his pupils blowing dangerously wide, like he’d been given the keys to the kingdom. “S’that right?” He hums, and he readjusts his grip on your thighs. “What’s it you want, sweet girl? You want a baby? You want my baby?”

When you nod shyly, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ll give you a baby.” His hips begin to buck faster, and his fingers are digging bruises into your skin. “I’ll give you five of ‘em. Have our own basketball team. How’s that sound?”

If you weren’t being fucked into oblivion, you’d agree to every word he whispered against your ear. “Mmmmichael…” You whimper into his sweat-slick shoulder.

“I hear ya, kid. Almost there.” He groans into your ear. And with a few final snaps of his hips, he empties into you. The hot sensation of his cum spreading inside you then dripping out around the base of his cock to make room for more is overwhelming. Your body trembles in his arms, gasping with every deep twitch of his cock.

Robby keeps you close, chest heaving as he comes down from his high. “You’ll be a pretty momma.” He hums as he drapes a throw blanket over your frame, sheltering your body with warmth.

You grin against the skin of his neck and press a sloppy kiss against the roughness of his beard. “Think it’ll work this time?” You ask, even though you knew the answer.

He runs a soothing hand against your scalp, patting down the fly aways. “Might. But there’s no harm in trying again. Ya know…just in case.”

[reblogged-by-zoe]

clark kent is the type of guy to wave at you when you look back at him while he's giving you backshots

That's So Clark Kent

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+ Explicit Content, smut, fluff, super backshots, Clark being cute

WC: 0.3k

A/N: I wrote this because I could. Thank you anon 😙

***

You’re face down, gripping at the sheets like they might tear under your hands. While Clark's fucking you deep enough to rattle your bones.

Your voice raw with want and need, yelling “Clark!” for what must be the millionth time, now hoarse and cracking, nothing left but breathless pleas.

When you shoot a look behind, his face is carved in concentration, eyes blazing with heat, sweeping over your naked body like you’re to be cherished and loved. 

Making sure not to hold too tight to bruise but memorising all the little textures and tremors of your skin, from the curve of the small of your back to the trembling arch of your thighs.

But the moment you make eye contact, he softens, gives you a dimpled smile, and waves at you. That's right, he waves.

You know that wave.

It’s the kind he gives you when he spots you at work, after being late for the third time that week. Or when he’s searching for you in a crowded place and finally finds you, relief softening his whole face. Or when he’s standing on the street outside your apartment at night, waving up at you with the stars in his eyes as he reluctantly leaves.

This was not the wave he was supposed to be giving you when he's giving you backshots and tuning your brain to mush.

His pace doesn't even slow when he does it. He just keeps thrusting into you from behind with expert precision.

You giggle a little, half your face pressed to the mattress, your smile muffled in the sheets. The sound makes Clark pause just enough to glance at you, brow furrowing as he asks what happened, his lips quirking into a pout when you can’t get the words out.

But you don’t need to explain. Because waving at a time like this was so Clark Kent.

Main Masterlist || DC Masterlist

[reblogged-by-zoe]

Clark likes to eat the kitty. Right?

He sure does, nonnie.

So, So Pretty

Pairing: Clark Kent x Female Reader

Summary: You sit on Clark's face. WC: Over 600 Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), mention of sex, Clark Kent (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Happy Sinday! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Clark isn't doing anything particularly interesting. He's just sitting there. Breathing. Existing. It's still enough to want him. And he knows you want him, the thick scent of your arousal hitting his nostrils before you breathe his name. 

So, one minute you're beside him on the couch, the next you're in his lap, your top and bra long gone. He has his mouth on one breast, his hand teasing the nipple on the other, and his other hand down the front of your pants. “You feel so good,” he whispers, gently suckling as his fingers spread and move along your slick folds. 

You moan his name when he circles your clit, gripping his hair hard enough that he moans, too. You would never be strong enough to hurt him, but he swears he feels every bit of pleasure you give him and everything else. He could break you, but he won't. You’d welcome it if he did. You’ll happily shatter if it means he’ll make you whole again.

“Need to taste you.”

Your pants and underwear are ripped off before you can blink and he has you hovering over his face, both of you panting, wanting, needing. Your hands grip the back of the couch, but he'd never let you fall. So, you move your hands to his shoulders instead. “Gosh, it's so pretty. It’s so, so pretty,” he says in wonder, staring at your glistening cunt before he makes you take a seat. 

You try to protest, but all you do is whine. Any other man would suffocate like this, but Clark isn't just any man. Even if he was, he'd die happily smothered by your wet pussy. You might die, too, since the beautiful Kryptonian still had his glasses on and there was something really hot about that. You hope the heat from your pussy fogs them up.

His tongue lazily swirls inside you, your walls clenching around him and making him chuckle. The vibrations have you grinding on his face, desperate for more friction, more of his tongue. You think you're begging for him to fuck you, but it's tough to make out your own words over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. 

He lifts you off his tongue only for a moment to say with a smile, “Ride it like you mean it and then you can ride me.”

And you do. You ride his face hard and fast, arching your back and toying with your breasts while he rests his hands on your hips, feasting on you like he hadn't eaten in days. "You're so wet," he mumbles at one point, your thighs shaking and your head falling back. You practically hear that the dam is about to break and your release is going to be all over his face.

And he doesn't stop fucking you with his tongue until you let beautifully break for him..

He pushes a thick finger inside, too, before your orgasm crashes over you. Your world explodes, the sensations making your head spin. He brings you back to him when you float away, moaning as you continue to clamp around him. His face is soaked and he has a smile on his face when he positions you in his lap, your body trembling in the aftermath. And you can feel how hard he is when you shift. 

He kisses you like you're the most precious thing, making you taste yourself as he gives you one more smile. "You're so pretty," he whispers, his glasses falling down his nose. “Now let's see how pretty you look when you ride me.”

And, well, aren't you just the prettiest thing he has ever seen?

Sitting on his face would cure me. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[reblogged-by-zoe]

cherry chaser charlie reid who wants to take reader's virginity so bad, then dump her. charlie reid who, after taking it, gets so pussy-whipped and fall in loves after one time 😌

gurl if i turn this into a whole ass fic then what

thinking your like early 20s maybe he knows your parents from work events and galas. maybe your his secretary…. so many choices. even better if its his idea to take your virginity like you didnt even suggest it but he knows you want him from the way you avoid eye contact with him and squirm in your seat whenever he whispers in your ear about how pretty you look in that dress sweetheart.

either way hes so ready to take what he wants and leave….. but the way your big watery eyes look up at him and the soft whimpers you let out make him feel something. make big scary deputy chief reid feel all warm and fuzzy inside in a way thats not just arousal.

hes saying stuff like, “yeah you like that huh? letting a man twice your age pop your cherry? what would your parents think, their perfect little girl getting her brains fucked out by the deputy chief?” and hes not wrong because you are not sure you can even form words at this point. but his mocking demeanour brings tears to your eyes not because you dont like it but because hes right.

queue charlie then cumming his absolute brains out. like life-changing world-altering orgasm. and hes laid on top of you, sweaty and panting, when he feels your hands come up to play with his hair. he pulls back to look at you and you ask shyly, “was that good for you?” and its that moment he knows hes fucked and needs to do everything in his power to make sure you belong to him.

[reblogged-by-zoe]

clark smut with reader that can’t focus while they fuck🙏

very much relatable. thanks for requesting 💌

CHATTERBOX 18+ ⸻ CLARK KENT

clark kent x fem!reader

WORD COUNT. 658 WARNINGS. 18+ only! general filth, pinv, reader can’t turn her brain off and clark being cute and teasing about it. mdni

Turning off your mind is always quite the struggle, it's never quite as easy as you hope it to be. It's like there's no off switch, your brain always seeming to be a rapid pingponging of thoughts, no matter the situation. 

Even now, when your mind should be empty, sole focus supposed to be on Clark with the way he looks and smells and sounds and feels; your brain is drifting back to a conversation you had in passing with someone at the train station, and then to the paper shopping list you made and lost soon after. 

Clark pulls his face out from the crook of your neck, lifting his head to get a better view of you below, your brows scrunched — but not in bliss like they usually are at a time like this, but instead focus. 

He lowers slightly, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Penny for your thoughts," he whispers against your mouth, the tip of his nose skimming yours. 

"I never found that shopping list."

"I did," he smiles lazily, a dopey grin tugging on the corners of his mouth. He presses another kiss to your lips, and the unrushed motion of his hips into yours subside, a lull occurring in the gentle fucking he's giving you. "It's on the fridge."

"You found it?" you ask, eyes ardently softening as you peer up to him. You slip your hands from around his shoulders and up to his neck, palms settling either side of it. "Where was it?"

"Next to your phone."

"You found my phone?" you ask, elated tone genuine.

"I did," Clark chuckles softly and shakes his head, the act small, like he finds the exchange endearing. He presses another kiss to your lips and another and another, searing warm acts of affection across your cheek, along your jaw and then down your throat. "Was by your shoes next to the front door."

You slide one hand up the short dark hair at the back of his neck, grazing your fingers along his scalp until you settle them around the crown of his head. You shake your head slightly, baffled by your own inanity. 

When he thinks your mind to be clear, he resumes the motion he had halted a few moments prior; hips winding into you, cock retracting and pushing back into you in a steady, easy rhythm.

Though that's the case, and Clark should've known that. But really, he got just too ahead of himself.

"Did you know lemons float—"

"But limes sink," he finishes off your fact, an entertained smile lining his lips — temporarily halting the small littering of kisses at the base of your throat. "I did know that."

"Did I tell you that before?" 

"You did," he nods and lifts his head, lining it back up with yours. "But I don't mind it," he kisses the tip of your nose, blue eyes gentle on you below.

"Did I turn the oven off?"

"No," he brings a hand to hold the side of your head, keeping you there. He chuckles. "I did."

"What time tomorrow—"

He dips in to sear a kiss to your lips, disrupting your question as he knew this to be a futile game with you. Clark knew of your inability to shut down your brain, and while he loved your natural inquisitive nature, he knew you needed a little bit of help quietening the contents swirling in your mind. If anything he was doing you a favour.

"No more questions," he shushes you softly, cooing into your mouth. "Focus on me," he whispers, timing it with a slightly more deliberate roll of his hips — cock sinking in that bit deeper.

And as he predicted, a whiney noise falls from between your lips, the blissed sound hindering the chance for you to ask anymore questions. And so he does it again, knocking another airy gasp from you; further disabling the thinking centre within your brain. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[reblogged-by-zoe]

18+ | lois x afab!reader x clark

synopsis: you and lois discuss clark.

a/n: i had another idea, and i just—

"You know Clark wants to fuck you, right?" Lois says nonchalantly, spreading you wide with three fingers. You're about to reply, but she strikes that spot in you that makes you gasp. "Like he really wants to fuck you."

"He–he wants to f-fuck us," you stutter, barely managing through the onslaught of pleasure Lois pours into you. "You should see the–the way he—" You get cut off by the way Lois' thumb starts rubbing mean circles against your throbbing clit. Focus has gone out of the window, Lois' smirk a blur in your glassy vision. "Oh, Lo-is!"

"We should invite him over sometime," Lois says thoughtfully, leaning over you with a deep thrust of her fingers. She hums appreciatively at how your cunt pulses around her and gushes against her palm. "Wine and dine him. Then take him to bed. Show him a good time."

You whimper at the thought; bringing Clark home to a freshly-made meal. Getting him all relaxed before drawing him in, hopefully setting his cheeks ablaze with that sweet blush. Working him up until he's hard and heavy in those slacks and making such a mess, it seeps through the fabric and—

"So needy," Lois laughs affectionately, seeing how the thought of having Clark with you both has left you wound up. "And so good. We're definitely inviting Clark over."

You shake your head, eyes wide and watery. "Don't you dare—!"

But Lois is shutting you up with a kiss and a well-timed curl of her fingers.

You don't talk for the rest of the evening.

a/n: imagine if clark heard them and guilty slipped a hand down his pants, hahaha—

[reblogged-by-zoe]

lois x gn!reader x clark

synopsis: clark sees you and lois together and yearns.

a/n: i saw someone say they wish they saw more clois × reader fic, and maybe this isn't what they were envisioning, but my brain immediately caught fire.

Clark doesn't mean to stare; he never means to stare.

But it's hard not to when you're strolling into the office, pretty eyes alight as you take the time to greet everyone. You stop to talk with Jimmy for a few moments, the both of you laughing up a storm at something he said. Then you’re patting his shoulder and making your way over to him.

"Kent," you greet with a familiar smile, and Clark tries so hard not to melt. "How are you these days? Feels like I haven't spoken to you in ages."

"O-oh," Clark stutters and coughs, cheeks already a little pink. "Y'know, just the same old grind. N-nothing new."

You raise a brow. "Nothing new?" You repeat in disbelief. "Lois told me you bagged another interview with Superman, and that's huge!"

Clark rubs the back of his head, chuckling nervously. It really isn't all that huge, but he can't tell you that without the obvious reason. And he can't lie because gosh, he's an awful liar. Especially to pretty women he has severe crushes on.

"Well, luckily, he was willing to give me his time again so—" Clark starts but is interrupted by the arrival of Lois.

Lois who sneaks up behind you and winds her arms around your waist. You instantly stiffen before squealing at the kiss she plants on your neck. Then you’re laughing, leaning into her chest while she rains kisses onto your warm skin.

Clark tries to look away, but it's hardly an attempt; he's mesmerised by the sight of you two.

"Lois, you're at work," you scold, even though you make no move to stop her kisses. In fact, you tilt your head back to give her more room, which she gladly takes. She squeezes at your hips, a teasing touch and Clark's sharp eyes catches your body's slight tremble.

Clark forces himself to fully look away before he starts to overheat.

"Don't care, I missed you," Lois murmurs into your skin, finally halting her kisses with a firm one against your cheek. "Just give me a minute, okay? Need to finish something quickly before we go. Also, don't bother Clark too much." She aims a rougish smile at him that he catches, and his heart trips over itself.

Oh, shoot.

"I never bother Kent," you reply, laughing as Lois lands a kiss on your mouth before taking off. "Do I?" You turn to look at him, those pretty eyes sparkling, and Clark is so weak, he's melting.

"Never," he says warmly, and you smile softly at his reply.

It isn't long before Lois is coming to get you, wrapping an arm around your waist because she always needs to touch you. You lean into her, craving the same, and you both bid Clark a good evening before you're heading out the door.

Clark wistfully watches them leave, unaware of Jimmy who's watching him.

After a momemt, Jimmy says, "You know they'd totally let you into their relationship, right?"

And cackles when Clark promptly chokes on his own spit.