“On the lower level, I keep a wildlife refuge for lost animals.”
Superman was your boyfriend, and he was so much softer than you imagined. You knew the man was kind, but you’d never expected it to this level.
There was the normal gentlemanly behavior—opening doors for you, carrying your bags, reaching the top shelf.
Then there was the weekly ‘just because’ flowers, the bulk packs of your favorite candy.
You’d never imagined Clark Kent had a zoo in his basement.
He’d brought you to the fortress of solitude under emergency circumstances only. Both of your apartments were closed for termite inspection, and there was nowhere else to go.
Of course, Clark could have brought you to Smallville, but the two of you weren’t exactly on ‘meet the parents’ status yet.
So, fortress of solitude it was.
He was giving you a tour when you’d hear what sounded like a elephant from below the ice.
“You what?”
Clark shrugged nonchalantly, giving a slight smile. “Well sometimes they get caught up in the mess of everything and there’s nowhere for them to go, soo…”
Before you knew it, he was leading you down to the lower level where the animals were. He walked you up and down each row, telling you the name of each exotic creature, where it came from, and how he obtained it.
While the animals were nice, the sparkle in your boyfriend’s eye as he spoke about them was even nicer.
a/n: i took the first quote from batman/superman world’s finest issue 11 and ran with it :p
hello to all of my beautiful new followers!! i’m so excited to have you all and thank you for the support :D
i know i haven’t been super active these past couple days, summer is wrapping up for me and i leave for a week long vacation tomorrow before i move into college!
however, i promise to keep writing whenever possible, but i’m not going to force myself to write if i don’t feel like it. i’d rather the work i put out make me feel good because it’s good quality, not just because i posted
anyway!! love you all, thank you for the support. please keep leaving asks and requests and i will get to them when i can <3
clark kent is such a gentle lover. never even in his wildest dreams would he think of hitting you.
he was all soft touches to your cheeks, your hair, your waist. treasuring you but without treating you with fragility.
that sentiment even carried over to sex. he always made sure you were okay with what he was doing, and never let himself get too carried away. he knew his strength.
one night, though, you had brought up a new position to try. clark was always one for missionary, mostly. he wanted to look into your eyes while he fucked you.
now, here he was, head leaned back as he took you from behind. your back was arched so perfectly, he couldn’t deny it felt amazing.
when he finally picked his head up, though, he saw it. the way your ass rippled with every thrust. it was mesmerizing. coupled with his thrusts, he brought a hand back, smacking your ass to watch it jiggle more.
as soon as he’d done it, though, he stopped thrusting. “Oh! I’m so sorry, oh gosh. I didn’t mean to.” he smoothed his hand over where he’d smacked you, hoping it would help. if being buried balls deep into you didn’t feel so good, he’d have half a mind to pull out and kiss it better.
“Clark, it’s fine,” you giggle, turning to look back at him where he was. “I liked it.”
he stared at you in disbelief for a moment before taking your hips in his hands once more. “Are…you sure?”
“So sure,” you nodded, wiggling your hips slightly to pull him back to Earth.
he groaned, immediately falling back into his thrusts, and this time he smacked your ass with intention.
i keep coming back to "she got away" and i have to wonder. does lois ever think about reader? was it real to her, or was lois with clark the whole time she was supposedly dating reader?
She Got Away < for reference!
i think that lois is someone who’s scared of commitment, but not in a ‘see other people while i’m in a situationship’ kind of way
i definitely think she was loyal to reader throughout their ‘relationship’ , but didn’t want to put a label on it because of her lack of commitment. see the freudian slip she made calling it a relationship in the fic as well
in my mind, seeing clark would almost be a way to distract herself from what happened with the reader, in which she found herself actually falling in love and able to finally commit to someone
so yes, i think she would think about reader, but see where she is now and be happy that it happened
which yes ouch! kind of hurts! but is a very real thing that happens and either sides are effectively blameless
“I think there are people that help you become the person you end up being and you can be grateful for them even if they were never meant to be in your life forever.” -Diane Nguyen, Bojack Horseman
clark kent is such a gentle lover. never even in his wildest dreams would he think of hitting you.
he was all soft touches to your cheeks, your hair, your waist. treasuring you but without treating you with fragility.
that sentiment even carried over to sex. he always made sure you were okay with what he was doing, and never let himself get too carried away. he knew his strength.
one night, though, you had brought up a new position to try. clark was always one for missionary, mostly. he wanted to look into your eyes while he fucked you.
now, here he was, head leaned back as he took you from behind. your back was arched so perfectly, he couldn’t deny it felt amazing.
when he finally picked his head up, though, he saw it. the way your ass rippled with every thrust. it was mesmerizing. coupled with his thrusts, he brought a hand back, smacking your ass to watch it jiggle more.
as soon as he’d done it, though, he stopped thrusting. “Oh! I’m so sorry, oh gosh. I didn’t mean to.” he smoothed his hand over where he’d smacked you, hoping it would help. if being buried balls deep into you didn’t feel so good, he’d have half a mind to pull out and kiss it better.
“Clark, it’s fine,” you giggle, turning to look back at him where he was. “I liked it.”
he stared at you in disbelief for a moment before taking your hips in his hands once more. “Are…you sure?”
“So sure,” you nodded, wiggling your hips slightly to pull him back to Earth.
he groaned, immediately falling back into his thrusts, and this time he smacked your ass with intention.
Would you write smut for dave lizewski? i love whimpering men <3
god i’d be honored.
warning: 18+, mdni, cursing, sex in cosplay, semi-public sex, hand-job
could be read as a continuation to this!
New York City Comic Con finally rolled around, and dave convinced you to join him.
well, convinced was the wrong word, you were incredibly willing. however, what dave didn’t realize is that you’d be dressing up.
the two of you had talked about cosplaying before, how neither of you were really opposed to it but also had never dipped your toes into it.
so when you showed up to meet him for the con dressed as poison ivy? it was a little hard for him to focus (pun definitely intended).
while you walked through the convention, stopping at booths and taking pictures with people, dave noticed the stares you were getting from other guys. it made his stomach turn. he tugged your hand into his, holding it tightly.
you noticed the switch in demeanor and looked up at him, concerned. “You okay?”
dave simply nodded his head, but began walking with a purpose, tugging you along with him. he found an open family bathroom, pulling you in and closing the door behind you.
he immediately let out a breath, grabbing your hands and pleading to you. “I’m so sorry. I just can’t stand those guys looking at you like that. The thought that they’re thinking the same thing I am,” he rambled, shaking his head and closing his eyes in embarrassment.
you pulled one of your hands free to lift his head towards you. “Hey. It’s okay. They can look all they want, you’re the only one who gets to touch. Yeah?” you said in a soft, comforting manner.
dave nodded at that, but perked up at the word “touch.” he cleared his throat, hands moving to hover just over your breasts. “…Can I?”
you smiled, nodding your head. he didn’t hesitate a second more, gladly taking both breasts into his hands with a content sigh. like he had been waiting for this.
he moved, then, to slip one side of the bodysuit down so he could latch his mouth onto your nipple. he whined against your skin like it was fulfilling a life long dream.
by this point, he was undeniably hard in his pants.
you slid a hand down, cupping him through his pants as he continued his work on your chest.
“All this just from touching me?” you asked with a grin, which earned you a nod and another whine.
you took the time to unbutton and unzip dave’s pants, moving your hand to palm him through his boxers. “Such a good boy,” you whispered into his ear.
dave pulled away from your breast, a small line of spit still connecting it to his lips. he rested his forehead against your shoulder, breathy moans falling from his lips as your hand moved. “Please…fuck, please, baby-“ he whimpered out, one hand moving to grab your waist.
“Please what? What do you need?” You asked, although already knowing the answer.
dave whined again at that, almost embarrassed to say it out loud. “Please touch me properly.”
without another word, you pulled dave out of his boxers and immediately started moving your hand up and down. he let out a full moan, hiding his face in the crevice of your neck.
“Shit- I’m- Baby I’m not gonna l-last-“ he struggled out, hips already stuttering with the restraint of holding back his orgasm.
“It’s okay. I’m right here,” you assured him, hand on his length never faltering.
within seconds your boyfriend was a whimpering, whining mess against your shoulder. hips thrusting into your hand as he chased his pleasure.
before you knew it, ropes of white hot cum were covering your costume.
as dave recovered from his post-nut daze, he realized what he had done. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-“
“Dave it’s fine, this was like $20 on Amazon. Just give me your jacket,” you giggled, moving to the sink to wash your hands.
he stood in awe, watching you with hearts in his eyes. you were the perfect person.
a/n: this is my second time ever writing smut so cut me some slack 😮💨
a/n this is inspired by The Subway by Chappell Roan! can you tell i love basing my writing on songs? ;p
Lois Lane isn’t good at relationships. That much is clear. At least now it is. But months ago, she was everything you could have ever asked for.
The two of you met at a convention meant to allow journalists from major cities to get together. Metropolis, Gotham, Central City.
You were in the bathroom, straightening yourself up in the mirror when she walked in, heading straight to the sinks. Her once ironed, pearly white button up had been stained with spilled coffee.
She was clearly upset, mumbling profanities to herself as she washed her hands and tried dabbing the coffee up with a soaked paper towel.
“Coffee mishap?” You ask, offering her a soft smile.
She looked up at you, brows furrowed in annoyance, but softened when she met your eyes. “Yeah…apparently even conference rooms at conventions aren’t immune to stumbling interns,” she joked, smile laced with irritation.
You laughed at that, drying your hands with a paper towel and looking down at your own sweater vest. “Wanna borrow this?”
Lois looked at you through the mirror before turning to face you. “Are you sure?”
You nod, smiling still. Normally, someone else’s wardrobe malfunction would be their problem and theirs alone, but something about this was different. You understood more than anyone how difficult it was to be taken seriously in this field as a woman. To walk around with a giant coffee stain on your shirt? That was like asking to be poked fun at.
Without further hesitation, you reached down and pulled the grey vest over your head. You turned it right side in and handed it over.
You watched, then, as she pulled it on. White button up rolled at her forearms, perfectly manicured, painted black nails to match her hair. Watched, still, as the waves fell to her shoulders when she pulled them out from under the vest.
She looked at herself again in the mirror, straightening the vest over the stain and pulling out her press badge. “Perfect. I owe you one.”
You catch a glimpse of her badge before she hurries out of the bathroom, likely needing to catch another conference. A blue strip on the top. Metropolis.
Hours later, you entered your last conference of the day. It was about 7 PM and you had lunch plans with a writer from Midway City tomorrow, so you had no desire to pay attention to the conversation. That was, until she walked in.
Lois waltzed in, looking better in your sweater vest than you ever had, and seated herself at the table with the confidence of a lion. God, she was radiant. She had pulled her hair into a claw clip, and the fatigue in her face was obvious, yet she was almost scary.
An hour and a half later, the meeting was over and the only thing you retained was that Lois Lane chews on her pen to focus and looks amazing doing it.
Everyone stood, eager to get back to their hotels. You were packing your bag when Lois leaned on the table beside you. “Thanks,” she said briefly, once everyone had cleared out.
“No problem.” You picked your bag up, standing and meeting her height. She stood from the table, gaining a couple inches on you now.
“I seriously owe you one. Do you have dinner plans?” She asked, taking a step toward the door in a silent invitation to follow her.
You shook your head, gladly falling in step beside her. “Nope. Was just gonna lay in bed and watch hotel cable TV.”
Lois laughed lightly at that. An airy laugh that implied it escaped unintentionally. “Join me for a drink? It’s the least I can offer.”
Back at Lois’ hotel, the two of you sat on the small couch beside the bed. You each held a vodka cranberry in hand, ironically both of your favorites. You were laughing over Lois’ story about the intern spilling her coffee.
“So he practically throws the cup down on the table and the lid flies off, and all of a sudden I’m covered in coffee,” she says through tipsy giggles.
You match her laugh, leaning back against the cushions and raising your hand to your mouth as you laugh, a life long habit.
As your laughs both die down, you meet eyes again. “Which reminds me…” she trails off as she leans forward, setting the glass on the coffee table. Lois reached down, grabbing the bottom hem of the grey sweater and lifting it up over her head. “Here you go.”
You can’t help the way your eyes drop to the slightest bit of cleavage visible from her barely unbuttoned top. You clear your throat, taking the sweater and giving a half-hearted smile.
However, your small glances didn’t go unnoticed. Lois’ lips part as your eyes meet again, and neither of you dare to look away. Even as she leans forward, capturing your lips with hers, you both maintain eye contact to the last possible second.
You allow your eyes to fully slip closed as you melt into it, letting out an involuntary sigh. One of her manicured hands lifts to rest on your cheek, thumb slowly gliding over your soft skin. It drops, then, to your shoulder, glides down your arm, and finds purchase at your hip. Her hand gently grips, daring you to move.
You hum into the kiss, finding yourself scooting forward, which allows Lois to pull you into her lap. Your knees on either side of her thighs, both her hands on your hips securing your spot there.
She pulls away, looking up at you and raising her eyebrows as if to silently ask for your permission. Both of your lipglosses had mixed together, now a mosaic of red and purple on either of your lips.
When you nod your head, she doesn’t waste a second.
Lois leans in, pressing an open mouth kiss to the hinge of your jaw. Your head falls back, letting out a breathy moan as she leaves a mixed color of sticky lipgloss behind. She kissed a trail down your throat to the collar of your button up.
Looking up at you as she undid the buttons, you could see how blown out her eyes were. Once piercing blue eyes now almost entirely overtaken with the black of her pupils.
When your shirt was undone, you slid it off your body, leaving you in a white cotton bra.
Her hands explored you, immediately. Sliding up and down the newly exposed skin until she was sure she had touched everything. Then, she made her way to your back, skillfully unclipping your bra and pulling it down your arms.
Her hands stopped, then, allowing her eyes to do the work. Looking you over as if trying to memorize every feature.
Right when you were beginning to get insecure, she leaned in, gently encasing one of your nipples in her mouth.
A surprised moan escaped you, looking down at her and meeting her eyes. Your jaw slack as she worked, sucking slightly as her tongue circled the bud.
You leaned your head back in pleasure just as the woman used a solid hand on your side to move you to lay down. She was slotted between your legs, laying over your body as her mouth remained connected to your breast.
With this new position, it allowed her to easily slide a hand down from your side and begin unbuttoning your dress pants with one hand. She slid the zipper down, eyes opening to meet yours again.
You nodded your head once more, giving her the permission she was asking for, before her hand slid under the waistband of your underwear.
The small whine that escaped your lips was merely instinctual as her two perfect fingers found your clit. They moved in small circles, making your thighs tighten around her body.
“You’re okay, I got you,” she whispered into your ear. The smell of coffee and vanilla perfume filled your nose as your orgasm neared.
“Lois-“ you called out as the pleasure came crashing over you, toes curling and one leg hooking around her waist.
When your high had finally come down, you opened your eyes to meet Lois’ blue ones. You knew, in this moment, that your life would never be the same.
Three months later, you and Lois had been going somewhat steady. While you lacked a label, that wasn’t what mattered. You messaged constantly, emailed during work hours, and called twice a week.
This week would be different, though. You had flown to Metropolis to spend the week with Lois, and the first two days had been amazing.
On Saturday, she picked you up at the airport and took you to her favorite restaurant downtown.
On Sunday, the two of you went for coffee and a walk around the park.
But now, on Monday, you woke up to an empty bed. It was partially to be expected, given she did have to go to work. The only thing that irked you was a lack of a goodbye.
You begrudgingly got up, slipping on one of Lois’ t-shirts and a pair of underwear before moving to the couch. You spent most of your day there, watching whatever channel Lois had on when she left.
Hours later, the sound of keys in the door had you perking up like a dog. “Hi,” You said immediately as she opened the door.
Lois gave you a tired smile, slipping her jacket off and hanging it up. “Hey.”
She dropped onto the couch next to you, pulling her laptop out of her bag. Opening it, she resumed writing an article she had started earlier that day.
You frowned, watching her write. “How was your day?” You tried in attempt to pull her focus away from work.
“It was fine. Started this article earlier and Perry wants it done by tomorrow.”
You stared at her eyes as they stuck to her screen, no obvious desire to look your way in the slightest. “Lois I came here to see you, not your computer screen,” you complained lightheartedly.
“I can’t just not work because you decided to come to Metropolis,” Lois argued, giving a small scoff.
Your brows furrowed at that. “I came here to see you-“
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she snapped, finally looking up at you.
The two of you shared a silent moment before you stood from the couch. “Then I’ll go.”
As you started toward the bedroom to gather your things, you heard her mutter, “I knew this wouldn’t work.”
You paused, turning to face her. “What’s that mean?” You asked, watching helplessly as she resumed work on her computer. “Lois, what does that mean?”
“Just that I’m not good at relationships,” she stated, eyes glued, again, to her screen.
You gave her a final once over before dressing, gathering your things, and heading out to the streets of Metropolis.
Unbeknownst to you at that point in time, those were the last words Lois Lane would ever speak to you.
A few weeks later, you sat in a meeting room, jotting down notes being spat at you by your boss. Eyes on your scribbled handwriting, a familiar scent filled your nose. Coffee and vanilla perfume.
Your eyes shot up, pen dropping from your hand. In front of you stood a new intern, setting a coffee down on the table. Her brows knitted together at your reaction. “…You okay?” She asked quietly.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, just…excuse me a moment.” You quickly stood, exiting the room and finding yourself in the break room. Closing the door behind you, you took a deep breath.
The room was empty and silent except for a small TV playing news stations from other cities.
“Breaking news from Metropolis: the rift tearing the city apart has been fixed thanks to local superhero and friend of the city: Superman.”
You looked toward the TV, expecting to see big blue courageously holding up a falling building or something. Instead you see him and Lois, *your* Lois, in a tight embrace.
How dare she. Did she really think it was okay to move on so quickly? Sure, the two of you were only ‘together’ for three months, but did that give her any right to do that?
Lois Lane became your own personal poltergeist. She haunted every aspect of your life until you couldn’t take it anymore.
After four months of torture, you decided to move to a different city. One where Lois Lane would only live in the shadows of what could have been.
tags @infernalfears
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a/n so sorry about all the time skips they felt necessary 💔 also this is my first fic in a hot minute so go easy on me… hope you enjoyed!
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