snyderdenyer

[snyderdenyer]

not to shit on zack snyder again but it's really funny that he tried to make a big, grand, complex moral quandary on where superman should stand when he saves people around the world and then james gunn is like "he wants to do it because he thinks it's the right thing to do". sometimes going simpler means you get to the crux of what the character is all about much more efficiently. like wow it's really that easy

[snyderdenyer]

you when you're right!!!

ME WHEN IM RIGHT

[snyderdenyer]

Pt. 2 of Clark taking care of his baby

Thought I'd add onto my last idea of him doing all the work. picking up from the last part :). Smut under the cut

..."Yeah I know. But you can take it, yeah? My pretty girl can take it, cause we're just getting started". She takes a shaky breath, nodding and pouting her lips for a kiss. He leans forward, hand coming up to cup her face gently, giving her a slow kiss. Gently putting her on her stomach, his hand drags up her calf, her thigh, before finally reaching her ass, rubbing softly. It sends a chill down her spine, and she lets out a small gasp, waiting patiently for his next move. He straddles her legs, a little below her ass, two fingers gathering her slick before reaching around and pushing them into her mouth. He leans forward, chest pressed to her back, his forearms supporting him. "Always so soaked aren't you hon?" his words are as soft as always, encouraging and comforting and she nods, giving a small "mmph" in agreement.

He reaches down, guiding his tip to drag though her folds a few times before pressing it to her pussy. "Ready?" His tone is genuine, making sure she knows what's coming. The way she arches back against him is enough, sliding forward. They both sigh softly, her from the stretch, him from the feeling of how just tight and warm she always is, and he gently sucks a hickey to her shoulder, hips beginning to roll. "Oh fuck", she whispers as he grinds just a little deeper. One of his big hands grasps her jaw as he turns her head to face her and kisses her a little rougher than usual. She groans, into it, desperately kissing him back as he goes deeper, back arching to give him a better angle. It's not long before he's close, pushing a little harder into her, his tip brushing her cervix each time, pulling a whimper from her lips. "Too much", she almost groans as he fucks the wind out of her. Her arm moves out to his stomach, palm pressing firmly, a desperate attempt to trying to push him away just a little bit. He pulls out before laughing, "Nuh uh. gonna take it like you're s'posed to".

He grabs her hips, dragging her up onto her knees and pushing her face back into the couch cushion. "Ah!". the sound is ripped from her throat as he pushes back in, grabbing her hands and holding them behind her back. "Good girl, always taking letting me take what I want"; his words and rough and strained, she knows he's close; "You gonna let me cum inside you? Fill you up and watch me drip out? What am I talking about, of course you will". She repsonds immediately, "yes! yes oh god I need it, please Clarky". He pushes her back, making her arch juuuust a little more, and she gasps. She hears a soft, whimpery, "fuck baby", his hips picking up for a few moments before slowing down... finally coming to a stop as he's pressed all the way inside her. "Clarky", she breathes out, chest heaving, eyes feeling tired as she slumps down. His chuckle is soft and sweet, laying next to her on the couch, kissing her forehead and pulling her into his arms. She kisses his pec, tasting the salt of his sweat before drifting off to sleep.

[snyderdenyer]

[snyderdenyer]

Yall seen how many clois moments we got in that trailer??? Superheroes that FUCK r back I fear 🤭

[snyderdenyer]

About me :)

She/Her, 18, poli sci and English major

I'm well aware im not a phenomenal writer... however that won't stop me. I take requests but I'll only write it if inspiration strikes, this is just for fun. I mostly write smut (lol).

I'll write for David Corenswets' Clark Kent, Tom Wellings Clark Kent, and Ted Nivison (god help me).

Let's be moots :p

[snyderdenyer]

oh my god... #needthat

FAVORITE TED PICS!

[snyderdenyer]

So real it’s Scary…

I need to smoke weed and suck off ted nivison ヽ(´Д｀;)ノ

[snyderdenyer]

Clark Kent taking care of his baby :)

Most of my stuff is written while high, none of it is proofread, if a typo really bothers you feel free to point it out so I can fix it :) Made thinking of Tom Welling and David Corenswets' (is that where you put the fucking apostrophe?) superman

tw: Dumbification? Subtle DD/LG undertones (Kind of unintentional). NSFW under the cut (pussy eating! Nipple play!)

Clark Kent loves an independent woman. Well , a mostly independent woman. She's smart, handles herself well, and he knows he never has to worry about her when she's on her own. But with him? Oh well now that's a different story. Why would she take care of herself when her big strong boyfriend is there to do it for her? All she needs to do, all Clark wants her to do, is sit there and look pretty. Holding his hand when she walks with him, not paying attention to cars because she knows he will. Why would she keep track of her keys when she knows Clark will? He's lost count of the times she'll get up from their usual seat in their favorite cafe, leaving her phone, purse and coffee. It's not his baby's job to do all that, he gets to take care of her, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He stops on the sidewalk to tie her shoes, picks out her clothes; even orders for her, choosing what she'll get if she can't decide.

He loves taking care of her. It'd be cruel to do anything else, how could he make her do any of the work? He sits her in his lap when they watch movies, letting her lean back against him while he slides his hand under her shirt, gently kneading her soft tits, playing with her nipples while she squirms under his touch. "Stay still honey", he'll whisper in her ear, pressing a kiss to his neck while one arm stretches across her tummy, holding her against him. He lays her back on the couch, movie long forgotten as he slides up her nightgown, leaning down to suck on her nipples. Letting out soft chuckles as she whines and threads her fingers through his hair, legs coming up to wrap around him. "I know honey. Always so sensitive, but you can take it".

He kisses down her tummy, pressing a few into the pretty blue cotton panties she's wearing, the ones she bought because, "Look Clarky! They match your suit!", tongue darting out of his mouth, gently licking her clit over the fabric, letting out a groan as she pleads "Stop teasing Clarky, please?". And how could he ever say no to her? Tugging off her panties and laying back down, gently sinking his teeth into her inner thigh, the pressure barely enough to leave indentations, before gently kissing her clit. She whines hips rolling up, a silent plea for more. He speaks gently, kissing her thigh again: "Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me tonight?". She pouts at him, "I am! you're being mean." God she's so bratty, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He gives in, licking her clit the way she always fucking begs him too, the need to make her cum outweighing his desire to make her wait.

He puts one arm across her tummy again, holding her down as she squirms, legs closing around his head, sucking in a breath as he forces them open. "M-more", she whimpers and he eagerly obliges, slowly sinking two fingers into her, curling them gently against her g-spot. It's almost too much for her, back arching as she tugs on his hair, gasping as he flicks his tongue again. She's almost there, feeling that familiar knot build in her tummy, her breathing picking up and her body flushing with heat. "Don't stop! Please don't stop oh god!" her voice is higher, desperate as she pleads with him. He groans in assent, continuing his actions, curling his fingers a little faster, the familiar squelch that always makes his cock twitch in his jeans. He can feel her right there, teetering on the edge as she whines, before crashing over it. Her back arches and she cries out, her usual chant of "Clarky!" long forgotten as she struggles to even breathe, her thighs closing around his once more, trapping his face against her as she rides out her high.

She opens her thighs again, sighing softly, as Clark sits up, pulling her towards him and kissing her. The taste of herself on his tongue making her whimper into his mouth as he drags her into his lap. "M'sensitive" she pleas, only eliciting a condescending noise of sympathy from him; "Yeah I know. But you can take it, yeah? My pretty girl can take it, cause we're just getting started".

[snyderdenyer]

Because I'm Insane and in love with Clark Kent

Is this really fanfic?? It's more of a word vomit. My irrational ass got jealous of seeing FICTIONAL Lois Lane with FICTIONAL Clark Kent and so... here we are? IDK maybe I just wanna be their third. But first time posting any writing since middle school please be nice. Constructive criticism is very much welcome if anyone ends up reading this.

Summary: Clark is in love with someone else

TW: Angst, pining, unrequited love, and wildly inconsistent verb tense

It's getting harder. Seeing him with her every day. It's not his fault, and it's not hers either. But you can't help that rush of anger and sadness... of, longing, whenever you see them exchange those small smiles. Chaste kisses goodbye, a hand on each other shoulders, a knowing glance from across the room. That dull ache in your chest, knocking the wind out of you, your head turning as fast as it had looked. You could lie to yourself for a while. Say to yourself 'it's just a crush. You'll get over it" But now you know. Every time your heart drops when he mentions her, every time you lie in your bed, tears welling in your eyes just knowing she's with him right now... you know.

You love him. You love him like you've never loved anyone before. Being his friend was enough, more than enough, when it was just the two of you. And then she came along. The life you foolishly let yourself imagine with him gone in an instant. The dogs, the two kids, the grocery lists made in bed, taxes done at the table, vegetables chopped in the kitchen... all gone. The moment you saw the way he looked at her, the pure adoration, almost reverence in his eyes, it was over. And then the way he talked about her. About how full his heart was when they were together, how she consumed his every waking thought, about how he finally understood what you talked about when you said home could be a person. Because he thought she was becoming home to him, it ate away at you. When you would lie and say you don't get it, but god, you did because that's what he was to you... it made you so frustrated you could just... scream. And you did.

Spending time with him became bittersweet agony, the one thing you looked forward to the most before turning into what you felt was your personal hell. What could you have possibly done in your past life to deserve this? Every night spent sleepless. Laying on the couch that he helped move into your apartment, holding onto a pillow he helped pick out for you, screaming into it. Because he was the kind of man to care like that. The kind of man to offer to spend an entire day dragging things up and down three flights of stairs, just to be kind. Look through an entire Ashley's furniture store on his day off, answering questions about which white he thought looked best.

Just because you were his best friend. That thought used to fill you with love and warmth, because you were his person. But you aren't anymore. He doesn't come to you when he's had a bad day at work, or when he wants to go to a farmers market, or a new restaurant, or even just needs to go to the DMV. She's his person now. She's the love of his life. The woman he's bought a ring for, the woman he has a proposal planned for. And now you're just his best friend. And you're not sure how to move on... how can you go from being his first call to his afterthought? You can't. You can't be anything to him anymore because that hurts worse than being all alone.

So you stop calling. You stop texting. And you pray to god that one day you'll stop caring so goddamn much, because it's tearing you apart, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. And his questions if you're okay and his invites will dwindle, until one day he stops trying too.

Then you'll watch his instagram feed. See they adopted a dog. Her birthday post. Their engagement photo. When April 18th rolls around, you scroll through your contacts, finding him. You'll message him happy birthday, and see him start to type back, the little text bubble leaving your stomach in knots, hands shaking when you see...

"Thank you. I miss talking to you"

And you won't respond.