lois lane x f!reader | headcanons
lois lane, the daily planet reporter who’s top of her game every day, breaking stories before the dust has even seemed to settle.
lois lane, your slightly older girlfriend who’s more stubborn than she’s worth, never letting you lift a hand when ‘i can just do that for you, baby.’
lois lane, your girlfriend who still gets flustered when you do manage to work around her stubborn ways, surprising her with flowers at her desk or with a meal as she walks in the door after a long day at work.
lois lane, who savors the feeling of your hips against her palms as she sneaks up behind you whenever she can, pressing her lips into your hair (and pretending like she doesn’t stick her nose in your neck to smell the remnants of the day’s perfume).
lois lane, whose hair falls onto the pillow in a beautiful obsidian arc when she pulls you onto her lap, staring up at your with that smug smile when she can tell how badly you need her.
lois lane, who cracks a grin the second you roll your hips against hers, only caring that you ‘take what you need, baby. i get mine when you get yours.’
lois lane, who guides your hips with a leisurely pace, adjusting your position so your legs are slotted perfectly, pressing your core against hers. clothed or no, this is her idea of perfection.
lois lane, who sneaks a hand under your shirt to paw at your chest, twisting a nipple in her fingers and inhaling sharply with a smile when you yelp at the contact.
lois lane, who waits no further to pull you down to her face, rolling her hips into yours as she lifts her chin to kiss you, swallowing each one of your moans with a smile.
lois lane, who lets a hand wander to your ass, squeezing it and pressing it further, creating more friction between you.
lois lane, whose cheeks flush when she can tell you’re close…
lois lane, who can take off both hers and your clothes in a flash, just to flip you onto your back and return to her place between your legs, weeping pussy against weeping pussy.
lois lane, who throws back her head with a, ‘that’s it, baby,’ each time your clits jolt in ecstasy as they bump against one another.
lois lane, who only lets you come when her face is level with your opening, coaxing your release until it splatters sinfully against her lips, her blue eyes darkening with each of your moans.
lois lane, who presses her throbbing clit against your sensitive one, wiping her mouth and swallowing your release as she rides you into overstimulation just as she comes against your spent pussy.
lois lane, who cups your cheek with a hand and pinches your nipple playfully before shifting to lay beside you, letting your shared release sink into your skin, not wanting to wash away the evidence just yet.
lois lane, who smiles when you tell her you love her, and—
lois lane, who loves you back.
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soooo idk what i was doing there but i was just feeling it. dont tell me you watched superman (2025) and thought lois DOESNT kiss girls. saw her in that damn vest/pantsuit situation and said ‘i know what you are’
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