we're not kids anymore.
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@theartofmadeline
izzy's playlists!
cherry valley forever
Origami Around
pixel skylines
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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EXPECTATIONS
Today's Document
ellievsbear
Misplaced Lens Cap
gracie abrams
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@godskent
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄.
𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 ⠀𓆣 ⠀argentinean bisexual⠀⠀s/her⠀⠀clark kent's wife⠀⠀twenty⠀⠀i write about hot characters⠀⠀lover of rom-coms⠀⠀smut⠀and⠀⠀i'm a spanish-speaking writer.
𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐦 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 ⠀𓆣⠀clark kent, jack abbott, tim bradford and michael robinavitch.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍⠀𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾s
⠀⠀ © godskent any work on my profile belongs to me.
𝓗𝙄𝙎 𝓦𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙉𝙀𝙎𝙎
( 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 ) benjamin poindexter x black cat!reader. scratching , reader has claws , mention of blood , unprotected sex :p that’s kinda it, other than sex obviously. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
Dex is everywhere—his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot against your throat, his cock buried so deep inside you that you can feel him pulsing with every ragged inhale. His hips roll into you with a rhythm that’s almost cruel, each thrust forcing a gasp from your lips, your back arching off the bed like you’re trying to escape—or maybe just take more.
“That feel good?” His voice is a low murmur, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hand slides from your waist to your thigh, hooking your leg over his hip. The angle changes, and fuck—his cock sinks even deeper, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and your claws itch to come out and play.
“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. Your fingers tangle in his hair, yanking hard enough to make his scalp prickle, before they slide down to his back—broad, muscular, begging for it. His skin is slick with sweat, the perfect surface for your claws to dig in.
And then his free hand finds your clit.
His thumb is rough, calloused, and he doesn’t tease—he attacks. Circles, pressure, the perfect amount of friction to send sparks shooting through your nerves. Your body tenses, your breath hitching as pleasure coils tight in your gut. You’re so close, and the way he’s fucking you—hard, relentless, like he’s trying to brand you from the inside out—only makes it worse.
His thumb flicks, just right, and the dam breaks.
Your claws snap out, sharp and eager, and you rake them down his back without warning. The burn is immediate, searing lines of fire blooming across his skin. Dex hisses, his body jerking forward, his cock twitching inside you as the pain shoots straight to his dick. “Fuck—Jesus fuck—” His voice is a groan, half-pleasure, half-pain, and you can feel the way his cock hardens even more, like the burn is the best fucking aphrodisiac he’s ever had.
His hips stutter, his thrusts turning erratic as he chases his own release. “Again,” he demands, his voice rough. “Do it again.” And you do, because you love the way his body reacts—the way his muscles tense under your nails, the way his breath hitches, the way his cock throbs inside you like it’s begging for more.
You drag your sharp nails down his back again, deeper this time, and Dex groans, his hips snapping forward as he bottoms out inside you. His tip nudges that spot, the one that makes your vision whiten and your body clench around him like a vice. You come hard, your claws digging in as your orgasm rips through you, your walls milking his cock as you ride out the waves of pleasure.
Dex isn’t far behind. His breath is ragged, his body trembling as he slams into you one last time, his release spilling inside you with a groan that sounds like it’s been torn from his throat. He collapses on top of you, his skin slick with sweat and a bit of blood, his cock still twitching as the aftershocks hit.
“Fuck,” he pants against your neck, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You ruin me.”
And you know he means it as a compliment.
© 𝕭𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐎𝐍𝐃. 2026 all rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, plagiarize, translate or feed any of my work into ai.
how nice to be back on Tumblr after a break AND READ THIS, HOTTTTTTTTTT YES GAWD. ALL 20 FINGERS, ok I'll calm down. i LOVE THIS HERE, PLEASE.
maybe having clark kent asking for rudeness isn't so bad. mdni, kent x wayne.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Clark couldn't stop making sinful noises against the white pillow covered in his sticky drool. His body was exhausted, but not so tired when it came to having Bruce behind him.
The blue-eyed boy whimpered in a submissive and unrealistic way, but he acted like a schoolgirl in heat when Bruce didn't hesitate to make him feel his fat cock in his half-open ass just for him.
Bruce slapped his ass loudly, moving his hips to hit his balls against Clark's, who gasped more as he gripped the sheets.
"Who's daddy's little puppy, huh?" Bruce whispered, giving him another spanking.
"I-I... I." Clark gasped as he rolled his eyes.
"What about you? Tell me. Loud and clear." He stabbed her again.
"Fuck, Bruce." Clark curses, receiving another stab. "I'm your pup."
"Oh, yeah? You are? Say it again." Bruce orders, holding Kent's strong, muscular arms behind his back to lean in and thrust again, and again, and again without stopping. "Tell Daddy what you said. Tell him."
"Holy shit, Bruce, harder." Clark begs, groaning gutturally.
"Ask for it properly," the major ordered, stopping.
"Give it to me harder, daddy." Clark murmured in a whisper.
And the thread of his voice was lost when Clark's cry of pleasure swept against his throat, which was held by Bruce to straighten him up, lean his back against his chest and give it to him hard in the fucking ass that was already squeezing his fat cock.
Bruce feels his cock contract and doesn't stop until he gives him what he deserves while Clark shouts harder, deeper, stronger... For the blue-eyed man, nothing was enough and having to suffer for his daddy's cock was more than good, more self-sufficient.
"Look at you, little pup." Bruce whispers and lets out a growl before feeling himself fill Clarkie's ass with his semen.
Clark collapsed completely, feeling tired as he smiled, but immediately erased the smile when Bruce approached him, climbing on top of him.
"Maybe asking me to fuck you hard wasn't so bad, huh?" Bruce whispers, stealing a quick kiss. "Legs over shoulders. Now."
"Oh god, no." Clark groans and feels his legs on Bruce's shoulders, wincing.
And that night he didn't even take pity on Clark or his poor legs, but the blue-eyed man was sure that tomorrow he wouldn't even be able to walk because of how well he was fucked tonight.
do you have anons users?
noup :(, but i'd really like to have anons here; i enjoy interacting with people. <3
would u like to have mute on the app? #letstalkwithbella
mute? idk what u mean by that, baby! but i'm hoping for some clarification haha <3 (i love the hashtag so much)
Jason Todd would absolutely pay for your nails. Not just because he liked the way they looked—though god, he did—but because it was his money, his treat, and if anyone so much as suggested you shouldn’t, he’d laugh in their face before flipping them off. He’d let you drag to the salon, slouching in the chair beside you like a bored prince, scrolling through his phone with one boot propped on his knee. But then he’d glance up, catch the way the light hit the fresh gloss on your nails, and suddenly he’s leaning in, voice low. “That one. The dark red. Like blood.” And when you raised an eyebrow, he’d smirk, all teeth. “What? It’s hot.”
He liked your hands on him. Everywhere. The way your fingers curled around his cock, nails biting just enough to make him hiss; the way they tangled in his hair when he was between your thighs, his name a prayer on your lips; the way they scraped down his back when he was inside you, leaving half-moon imprints he’d trace later in the mirror with a grin.
His favorite, though, was the way they scraped. Not hard—just enough. The light drag of your nails over his scalp when you were half-asleep, your fingers splayed in his hair like you were anchoring him to the earth. He’d go boneless under your touch, all that restless energy finally still, his breath warm against your collarbone. You could feel the moment he gave in, the way his muscles loosened, the way his weight settled over you like a second skin.
That’s how you found yourselves now: him sprawled across you on the couch, one of your hands fisted in his hair, the other slipped under his shirt, tracing the ridges of his spine. He was limp, completely out of it, his face buried in your neck like he was trying to breathe you in. You, meanwhile, were rambling, because of course you were.
"And get this," you muttered, your voice muffled against his hair, "when they’re playing against each other years later, Patrick does the serve Art does. And Art immediately knows. Like, his whole face just—" You pulled your hand from his hair to mime an explosion. "—because he recognizes it."
Jason made a sleepy, incoherent noise. "How?"
You rolled your eyes so hard it should’ve been audible. "I told you this. You weren’t listening."
"Was listening," he mumbled, but his voice was thick, his words slurring together. "Just… don’t get tennis."
"It’s not about tennis," you scoffed, giving his hair a sharp tug. He hissed, but didn’t move—just pressed closer, like he was daring you to do it again. "It’s about the subtext. The way they’re all lying to themselves. Art thinks he’s finally won Tashi over, Patrick thinks he’s over Art, Tashi’s just… there, smirking like she’s already won everything in life when really all she ever wanted was to play. But that was taken from her. Because of the injury. "
Jason went quiet for a long moment. You could feel the gears turning in his head, slow and reluctant, like a rusted engine. Then, with a sigh that ruffled your hair: "Sounds like a bunch of people making bad decisions over a game they take too seriously."
You laughed, because of course that’s what he’d take from it. "It’s about love and competition and—"
"Scratch." His voice was suddenly sharp, his head lifting just enough that his breath ghosted over your pulse point. His fingers found your wrist, guiding your nails back into his hair, pressing down. "You’re not scratching hard enough."
And just like that, the conversation was over. Because Jason Todd had the attention span of a goldfish and the focus of a predator, and right now, all he wanted was the sting of your nails.
"Jason, I was talking. "
"Mhm." His teeth grazed your throat. "Talk, then."
You huffed, but your fingers curled tighter in his hair anyway.
© 𝕭𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐎𝐍𝐃. 2026 all rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, plagiarize, translate or feed any of my work into ai.
THIS IS WHAT'S SO FAIR AND BEAUTIFUL ABOUT READING A JASON LIKE THIS. okay, god, i got emotional. dude, this is... wow, i think i'm going to have a new obsession: reading u cause u're amazing.
what clark kent do u specifically write ab? ꨄ︎
heyy babe! any clark kent you want. i'm more of a fan of the clark from the comics and the one played by david corenswet, but you can imagine the clark kent from Smallville or the one played by henry cavill.
Ummm if she’s drunk enough to have thrown up then she’s too drunk to give consent to do anything with Dean when he takes her home
heyy! actually, i'm not going to write a part two where the oc is drunk. what i write is in the rules section, and i'm in favor of 100% consent from both parties.
however, part two of that one-shot takes place two days after the events. i don't like writing smut after being drunk, but i'm sorry if it came across that way; i didn't mean it like that. <3
what did we say about having sex in the countryside, clarkie? clark kent, masterlist.
warnings: fluff, smut, and lots of raunchy sex. clark being dominant, even though we all know he's a total wimp in bed.
a/n: making one-shots/drabbles about clark kent in alternate universes where he's a lapdog and a sexy, functional adult has always been on my bingo card.
⠀Clark had always been one of those functional men who solve problems when it came to his beautiful and incredible wife, that is, you.
He always fed you, cooked for you, farmed the land, did everything when the two of you went to the countryside for a beautiful and peaceful vacation, although that didn't last when your husband was so... vocal these last few days.
Sometimes you'd find Clark jerking off in the shower, or even secretly. Other times it was Clark gently massaging your ass or sniffing your perfume like a puppy in heat.
Today you had found him doing the first thing. You could see him touching his balls, wanting to feel a little pleasure, and then putting lubricant on his cock, moving his hand up and down and so on.
You couldn't help but admire how well Clark touched himself under the shower stream, and his ass was outlined in a way that you could enjoy without him reprimanding you for it.
How could he reprimand you when you were his damn beautiful wife? You are a goddess to him, and you could see him naked, changed, or even half-naked, and still he would remain motionless so that you could observe every toned detail of his body or other characteristics of his physique.
You smiled, knowing that you had to reprimand him for not respecting the code of not doing anything dirty on the countryside of the field, on your vacation where you were supposed to rest in peace.
And just in case it was true, you realize that he was glancing to the side, out of the corner of his eye; Clark had felt a presence watching him from behind and couldn't help but smile a little, turning around to feel the water sliding down his bare, strong torso, deliberately falling onto his shaved pelvis.
"Do you like what you see, wife?" Clark asks in a serious, flirtatious tone.
"Perhaps, but I must reprimand you for not respecting the code of..." You fell silent when you felt a gentle grip on your waist; Clark led you to the shower, splashing you with the stream of water. "Clark Kent!"
He said nothing, starting to leave small kisses on your jawline, moving down to your neck before tearing your brown plaid shirt and tossing it aside in the shower. His lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss as he massaged ur breasts, gently squeezing them to lift them slightly, accentuating their fullness.
You gasped as Clark played with the strap of your white tank top, pulling the top of the neckline down to reveal your white bra. The color made your breasts look larger.
Clark's mouth moved to your breasts, between kisses and tongue: that made you arch your back and lean it against the wall tile while you squeezed your husband's soft, wet, black hair.
"Clark, we must... Ah, Clarkie," you moaned softly as he turned you around, pressing the side of your head against the cold tile as he ripped your jeans to pieces, sending a chill through your legs.
"Do you want me to stop?" Clark whispered that question, pulling down your panties to run his middle finger between your buttocks and touch your vaginal lips, feeling how wet you were.
Not only did you moan in a pure and genuine way, but feeling safe and confident that Clark knew what you wanted made you feel more excited than before, so... Well, you didn't refuse to stop for anything in the world.
"I asked you if... Do you want me to stop?" Clark repeated the question, pressing his hard cock against your buttocks.
You shook your head until you felt Clark slowly insert the head of his cock inside you, stealing many sounds of pleasure from you until he moved slowly, depending on the speed you liked.
"Clarkie, god, we shouldn't be doing this..." You whispered, clinging to the shampoo shelf, however, Clark grabs your wrists and puts them behind your back.
"Be more specific." Clark orders, with a broad smile, gradually increasing his speed.
"What did we say about having sex in the countryside, Clarkie?" you asked, the sound of your breasts hitting the wall tile hard, dry, and hot.
"As far as I know and remember..." Clark paused, slapping one of your buttocks as he continued to increase the speed of his thrusts. He let out a deep groan, feeling so good fucking you like this. "You came up with the idea, and here you are, surrendering, begging for it deeper."
You couldn't say anything, he was right.
"And you know I'm right, otherwise you wouldn't be here, squeezing your pussy with my cock inside, would you, baby?" Clark murmurs against your ear.
And this time, you leaned in a little further and decided it was better to feel how good you loved having sex with Clark. He knows how to push you to the limit and break the code you set for this vacation.
You wanted a relaxing, romantic vacation with no sexual intimacy. But you realized you couldn't; you loved having sex with your husband and that wasn't going to change.
So you decided to remain submissive to him, in front of him, and let him fuck you the way you like, because maybe he's a good man and a catch, a gentleman, a morning man and an excellent cook, but inside, he was full of hunger for you and you couldn't deny yourself the chance to feed off of him with a good fuck if necessary.
And that's what he was doing right now.
You also enjoyed watching Clark Kent on ur vacation.
⠀⠀heyyy! thanks for stopping by. before sending a request, please take a minute to read this. it'll save both of us some time ♡.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓉯ྀ ͚⠀BEFORE REQUESTING, PLEASE READ !!
✧ MDNI. this blog contains mature themes and is intended for adults only. if you're under 18, please do not interact.
✧ fandoms i currently write for: dc comics (mostly clark kent because i am hopelessly obsessed with him), formula 1, bridgerton, the rookie, the vampire diaries, criminal minds, marauders, the pitt, and whatever fandom has currently taken over my brain.
✧ what i write: smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, fake dating, drabbles, one-shots, fanfics, smaus, headcanons and requests.
✧ what i don't write: incest, pedophilia, non-consensual sexual content, fetish content involving bodily waste, extreme fetish requests, or anything that makes me uncomfortable.
✧ age gaps: i only write age-gap relationships if every character involved is a consenting adult.
✧ requests: requests are open depending on my inspiration and free time. i may close them temporarily if i'm taking a break or catching up on older requests.
✧ anonymous requests are welcome. however, i reserve the right to decline any request if it doesn't fit my writing style, interests, or comfort zone.
✧ reader inserts & ships: i mainly write fem!reader content, occasionally male!reader, and i also write ocs for longer fanfics. canon x canon isn't something i usually write, but if there's a ship you love, feel free to ask and i'll see if inspiration strikes.
✧ a friendly reminder: please read my guidelines before sending asks. if you knowingly interact with content that is clearly labeled and then complain about it, i will simply assume you skipped the rules.
✧ hate will be ignored. i write because i enjoy it. i'm not here to satisfy every possible preference on the internet. if my content isn't for you, that's completely fine—there are thousands of other blogs out there.
✧ be kind. i'm just a person behind a screen trying to share stories i love.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ thanks⠀for⠀reading⠀and⠀enjoy⠀your⠀stay.
“Holy shit, she’s incredible. Yeah, man. She really is.”
Allie Hayes and Dean Di Laurentis in OFF CAMPUS 01.04 'The Breakup'
No but can we talk about the fact that he KNEW what she was going through and knew her heartbreak was real? He knew about Vermont, he knew she wanted to break up, he understands what’s going on! That’s why he locks in.
# DEAN DI LAURENTIS — HIS JERSEY !
MASTERLIST !
001. SUMMARY !
✶ you’re officially dating dean, which means wearing his jersey to his hockey games and having him go crazy for it.
002. WARNINGS !
✶ suggestive comments and kissing (nothing too explict), dean calls you baby.
word count : 982
gif by @sophie-baek
You’ve been to Briar U hockey games before, but never wearing a player’s jersey.
In your mind, that had always been reserved for fans, girlfriends, and puck bunnies.
But things are different now. Now, after Dean Di Laurentis finally admitted he didn’t want your fling to stay just a fling, you find yourself sitting in the stands at a Briar vs. Harvard game with the number 66 stretched across your back.
────── ⋆⋅☆ A LOT MORE TO LOVE, DEAN DI LAURENTIS
summary. being plus size means talking down on yourself when you think every outfit makes you look terrible. Allie and Hannah are here to remind you look beautiful, while Dean has other interesting ways of showing it.
⭑.ᐟ This was a sweet request!!!! I’ve never written for + size reader because as one I’ve never felt comfortable because it felt a little too personal but hey… growth!!!!!!! Also anything for Dean. This has a perfect amount of Hannah and Allie. Oh and Dean—right. Please send request for the boys x not quite smut but smut-ish?
Word count. 1k
my masterlist
──────────୨ৎ──────────
‘Are you alive in there?’ Allie’s voice rung through the bathroom door, a small knock following the so often asked question.
‘Unfortunately.’ it really was supposed to come out as a whisper.
It didn’t.
‘Okay, get out. Show us the dress. Now!’ She demanded knowing exactly what thoughts were going through your head.
‘It’s not pretty!’
‘And I don’t care!’ She stood behind the door, hands on her hips as Hannah chewed on her bottom lip anxiously.
‘You’ve been warned.’ The door opened with a soft creek.
‘Told you. I look a like a damn sack of potatoes.’ Your hands awkwardly stood on the fabric over your belly, a feeling you’ve known all too well for all too long.
‘You make a very cute potato.’ Allie said ‘spin for me?’ She motioned with her fingers.
‘You look great. He’s gonna love it.’ Hannah stood up from being half sat on the back of the couch.
‘Are you kidding me? I don’t even know why he likes me in the first place. He’s never gonna wanna see me again after seeing that.’ You rolled your eyes with a frustrated groan.
The girls eyed each other, because this happened way too often.
‘You need to stop doing this.’ Allie’s voice came out rougher than she meant it to.
‘What am I doing? Telling the truth?’
‘Talking that way about yourself. You’re beautiful. It’s not the only reason why he likes you. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re a fucking catch. He’d be stupid not to.’
‘You’re just saying that to make me feel better and make me go out because you’re late, all because of me.’
‘I’m saying that because I mean it. You’re hot! Look at yourself. In the mirror, go.’ Allie ushered you to the tall mirror standing in the hallway.
After another groan followed by a sigh, you couldn’t help but stare at your reflection.
‘What do you see?’
‘Myself. With you, upset in the back.’
‘Stop playing. I’m serious.’ Allie pushed your shoulder forward with a small laugh.
‘Maybe the dress isn’t so bad.’ The black uniformed pattern stuck to your skin.
‘Exactly. You look great. You’re not changing. This dress was made for you. Look at your boobs! He’s gonna want you, trust me.’
Hannah laughed in the background and joined the two of you.
‘Allie’s right. He’s not dumb, he’s already picked you. You’re beautiful tonight and every other day. We’re here to remind you of that, alright? You’ll feel better once you see him. And we’re already way too late.’ She laid a small kiss on your shoulder.
It wasn’t unusual.
It was more than normal, actually.
The intimacy between friends, the conversations about things you don’t really want to talk about but feel grateful about in the end because they always know how to cheer you up.
When the doorbell rang, your hand found its place on your stomach again.
An anxious habit you want so badly to go away.
It was Tucker’s voice that you heard first, complaining about waiting for you for way too long and being both incredibly annoyed and worried.
Then what you feared happened.
‘Hey.’ Dean’s voice echoed in the hallway, his hands stuffed in his pockets, cheeks pink for what he hoped you’d think is the cold from the outside but is really him being nervous to see you.
‘Hi.’ You turned quickly to face him, the voices in the background quickly fading once you noticed his eyes roaming.
‘You look- you look amazing.’ His voice trembled almost, like he wasn’t expecting to see you so beautiful and bare for him to witness.
‘You like it?’ You asked, taking a step closer to him.
‘Are you kidding me? Yeah. I could definitely get used to it. You’re comfortable?’ His question came out soft, not wanting to offend you but knowing you.
‘I wasn’t. I changed like ten different times, was giving up and then, the girls tried to cheer me up. Said you’d be stupid not to find me hot in this.’ You let out a small laugh mixed with both flirt and awkwardness.
‘Oh— I’d be the stupidest of them all.’ His hands came out of his pockets, slowly making their way to your hip dips.
‘You really think I look good?’
‘I really— really do. As a matter of fact, I don’t even care about this stupid party anymore. Just wanna look at you all night. And some more.’ He teased with a smirk.
‘Oh yeah? Like what?’
‘I could tell you. Or you know— show you. I know what I want. Do you?’ His voice came out as a whisper leaning into your ear.
‘Are you guys coming?’ Hannah ran into the hallway, Garrett hot on her tail.
‘Your call’ Dean whispered again.
‘We’ll catch up with you later.’ You told Hannah without breaking the eye contact with Dean.
You’d never felt more comfortable and yet so anxious.
He wanted to love you? You were going to let him.
You didn’t hear what Hannah said.
You just heard the loud click of the door as they all left, leaving you and Dean all alone.
‘Smart choice.’
‘Was it?’ You joked.
‘You’re a tease.’ He shook his head with a laugh.
‘You love it.’
Dean nodded while biting his lip.
Then his lips were on yours.
You’re not sure which one walked towards the room first.
But the moment your back hit the now closed door as he pressed up against you, you knew you were done for.
His hands roamed. They touched. They squeezed all they could.
His lips hovered, kissed, left bruises in places that you didn’t know he’d even want to reach.
It was worth it.
The almost hour trying on different outfits making you late and making them come to the apartment only for Dean to find you defeated in that hallway.
The way his hands felt against the warmth of your skin, the thighs you’ve wanted to shrink so badly, the stomach you’ve always wished away.
The skin between your chin and neck, the shoulder blades you always thought were bigger than everyone else’s.
Maybe this isn’t so bad.
Maybe if someone can love and worship your body so much, so should you.
Maybe there’s a lesson in the way Dean wants you in your entirety.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future off campus fics 🤍
Would you do one-shots of F1? <3
heyy babe! of course! tell me who you want and what you want. i mean fluff, smut, angst, angry sex, anything. if you want a specific ship between pilots, that's possible too! 💌
His reaction to Robby smacking his wounded shoulder, is so unnecessarily attractive
you’re in control now
⠀⠀⠀⠀❀ SOFT SEX!
clark kent x girlfriend!reader. SMUT. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE 18+ CONTENT.
⠀⠀Sundays were the best days because Clark came up with the idea of having gentle sex every morning to put you in a good mood; however, aside from putting you in a good mood, seeing your boyfriend naked while making love to you was one of the most incredible things in the history of your life.
Being gentle with you made him hard.
And feeling you gently against the bed turned you on because you couldn't stop squeezing her chubby ass with your nails, knowing that right now, she was making you moan with pleasure and lust.
"Clarkie," you gasped, trying to look at him, but your eyes crossed slightly as you felt the latent depth in your slippery cunt. "Oh god... yes"
"Do you like it, baby? Or do you want me to stop?" Clark asked, looking at you to scan the feelings on your face. "Look at me and tell me, beautiful."
Your breasts bounced slowly with the throbbing of your clitoris and the sound of his pelvis colliding. Clark groaned as you dug your nails even deeper into his ass, wanting more as he kissed your jaw with soft, warm kisses, gently licked your neck, and could only hear your moan.
"I love it," you replied without looking at him. "I love you, Clark, keep it up."
"I love you too, honey," Clark whispered.
And on the morning of that Sunday, all you could hear were the sinful noises coming from that room with a double bed.
