about me ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ critter, she/her, lover of all things dilf, mostly writes for joel miller and clark kent, i wont write for a character i dont know—but please send in requests! :p
warnings ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ i’m not very consistent with my writing unfortunately—i wont always post on a schedule, all my pictures are from pinterest, if i use a divider not made by me i will credit it—otherwise assume they’re all mine!
requests ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ more than welcome please send!! i will try to get to any request in a timely manner, but bear with me ᵔᴗᵔ
summary: superman’s really been going through it over the past few days, and as his friend and partner (as you’ve so gracefully titled yourself) you know it’s up to you to help him through these hard times the only way you know how
cw: 18+!! mdni, smut, oral (m!receiving), somno, fluff, whiny!clark, taking care of our man when he’s sad 💔, pouty clark (imagine that picture at the top of the post every time i said the word pout), sorta established relationship
When there’s no reply, you bang your fist against the door a few more times.
“Clark! Quit mopin’ around in there and let me in!”
Still nothing. At this point, you were beginning to wonder if he was still alive in there. Could Superman even die? Either way, it was starting to look like you’d have to take drastic measures to get into Clark’s apartment.
You inhaled a steady breath, took a few steps back, and raised your foot to kick the door.
Then it swung open, and Clark was looking at you with an unamused look.
“Kansas! I was starting to worry about you.” You chirped, walking past him through the door. He shut it behind you wordlessly, pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation.
He grumbled something under his breath before following you into his living room, skulking around in a totally not Clark like manner.
“What are you doing here?” He asked in a huff, practically pouting at you.
You sank down on his plush couch, letting out a sigh. “Coming to check on you. Obviously.”
He froze, looking down at you with a small tilt to his head. His expression was unreadable, something between confusion and gratitude.
“Check on me? I… why?”
“Why?” You scoffed, sitting up straighter. “Because some asshole billionaire has started a smear campaign against you and for whatever reason everybody is believing. If I were you, I’d want someone to check on me.”
“Well, I—” He cut himself off, pushing his hair back from his face. That one curl that never seemed to want to stay back popped out of place again, falling right where it always did on his forehead. “You don’t believe it?”
The answer was simple. No, you didn’t believe that Clark—goody two-shoes, always compassionate, tripping over his own feet to help somebody in need Clark—would be on some secret mission to take over the world. Or that he had a secret harem.
With a snort, you stood from the couch. “No, Kansas, why would I believe that?”
He said nothing, only shrugged and gave you that same dejected pouty look.
He looked so wrecked like this, with those bags under his eyes and that furrow between his brow that wasn’t there a week ago. It almost hurt to see him in this state. Clark did so much for the people of Metropolis—people all over the world, really—and they were so quick to turn their backs on him.
And even through it all, you could tell how much he still wanted to help. How much he wanted people to trust him again. How badly he wanted to pitch in on the battles the rest of the Justice Gang had been fighting, even if he knew he should stay out of the spotlight.
With a soft sigh, you looked around his apartment. He was usually a neat guy, always picking up after himself. But now dishes laid out and trash piled up on the counter. You could see his bedroom door open down the hall, and his bed was unmade and messy like a nest.
“Clark,” you cooed, grabbing him by the shoulders and guiding him down to the couch. Once he was sitting—and eye level with you—you cupped his cheek, which had gotten scruffier over the past few days. “You need a break.”
He looked like he was going to protest, but you shushed him. “Uh-uh. Sit.”
“I’m not a dog.” He muttered under his breath, looking up at you through his long lashes.
You chucked at his words, but ignored him as you walked into his kitchen. You spent a couple minutes picking up trash and placing dishes in the dishwasher, and by the time you had finished the sun had dipped below the horizon.
When you were back to the living room, Clark was passed out on the couch, slumped back against the cushions like his body had melted into them. His legs were spread wide and his head was tipped backwards, and every so often he’d let out a small snore.
It was cute seeing him like this, all relaxed and boneless in sleep after days of him being rigid with stress. So weighed down by everything that had been placed on his shoulders.
All you wanted to do was take care of him in the way he took care of so many people.
Take care of him in the way he’d taken care of you so many times.
You just wanted to make him feel good, wanted.
Slowly, you sank to your knees between his spread legs, watching him carefully. You guys had done this before, but never like this.
He was always so intent on pleasing you, returning the favor. But now you just wanted to focus on him.
Your hands found the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down slowly while watching his face, observing the way his nose twitched and scrunched.
You got his sweats down to his ankles and exposed his cock to the air, salivating at the sight. He was soft, but even like this he was huge. You took him in your hand, running your thumb up and down the silky smooth skin and savoring the feeling of him.
You never got to see him like this—soft and vulnerable. He was always hard for you, in more ways than one. You felt a mix of excitement and pride that you got to seem him in this way.
His cock was quick to react, stiffening up in your hold after just a few soft strokes. He let out a muffled noise in his sleep, something between a whimper and a grunt. For a moment you hesitated, but when his eyes stayed shut peacefully you continued.
Your thumb traced circles over the tip, spreading the precum that had begun to steadily weep from his slit and lubing up his dick. His noises were growing louder and more frequent, and you knew you didn’t have long before he woke up.
Leaning forward, you took him in your warm mouth, suckling his tip gently. His hips jerked up then, an involuntary movement that shoved at least three inches of his cock down your throat.
You gagged, grabbing onto his thighs as goosebumps bloomed across your body. Above you, Clark let out a gasp and threaded his thick fingers through your hair as he jolted awake.
“Oh fuh—uh… Golly. Wh-what are you doing, sweetheart?” He panted, hands releasing your hair before hovering over your head, like he couldn’t decide whether or not to touch you. They landed on the cushion by his thighs, gripping the fabric hard enough that the threads creaked.
You pulled off with a pop, swirling your tongue around his tip before parting. Once your mouth was off him, your hand took over, jerking and tugging his cock in relentless motions.
“Just trying to make you feel good. You’ve had a hard week. Relax, Clark.” You murmured, leaning down to press soft kisses to the soft skin of his balls.
“Jeez. You’re gonna kill me.” He groaned, tipping his head back and throwing his forearm over his eyes. You watched his thighs tense, thick muscles going tight before loosening.
You kissed your way back up his shaft until you could take him in your mouth again, and this time you doubled your efforts. You took his hand that had fallen to the couch cushion and guided it to the back of your head, only releasing it when he fisted a clump of your hair.
You gave him that look—the one with the sultry eyes and the drool running down your chin—and tried to send him a message you hoped he’d receive telepathically.
Use me, Clark.
He whined, tightening the grip on your hair and subconsciously thrusting up a bit. “Oh goodness. I… It’s so… You’re—”
You hummed around his length, causing more drool to dribble from the corner of your lips and drip down to his balls. He looked down at you with such gentleness, cupping your cheek with one big hand while the other smoothed down the hair he’d tangled.
You stayed there on his cock, not bobbing down or anything, just sat there with his weight on your tongue while the two of you locked eyes. Finally, Clark gave in to baser needs and threaded both hands through your hair.
“Tap my thigh ‘f you want me to stop.” He murmured, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure as he slowly began to guide your head up and down. “Not gonna—crud—not gonna be able to hold back.”
His pace picked up then, until he was pistoning in and out of your sloppy mouth and using you to get off.
“Oh good golly, baby. You don’t… jeez—don’t even know how much I needed this.” Clark babbled, voice breathy.
“I-I… It’s been so-hah-so hard. Everything’s—” He trailed off, forgoing words to let out a ragged moan. “Ugh, won’t think about that now. Just wanna… fo-focus on you. On this.”
He looked down at you again, eyes glazed over and half lidded.
“So pretty. So damn pretty. So… oh—” His breath caught on a gasp, and you felt his thighs go rigid under your palms as he reached his peak.
His cock pulsed in your mouth before bursting with cum, warmth filling your mouth as he finally found his release. He was letting out pathetic whimpers of your name as his hips gave a few more stuttered thrusts up before falling back to the couch.
You pulled off, gasping in an attempt to catch your breath. Clark’s hands, warm and a bit clammy from being buried in your hair, drifted down. One of them cupped your cheek and swiped away the tears tracking down, while the other rubbed circles into your jaw.
You laid your head on his thigh, sitting like that for a few minutes, locked in a quiet gaze much gentler than the acts that had just transpired. Finally, Clark got tired of having you so hard and guided you up to sit in his lap.
You peppered kisses to his neck, not in an attempt to start anything, but rather to soothe the heat still creeping up his face.
His big hands found your back, rubbing in circles that comforted both him and you, slow and steady and firm. One hand moved back up to your scalp, only this time, instead of tugging and gripping, he carefully undid the knots and tangles he’d created.
“That was…” He exhaled, a soft chuckle leaving him. “Wow.”
“Good?”
“Very good. More than good.” He affirmed, pressing a kiss to your temple and inhaling the scent of your shampoo.
Softly, he murmured against your hair. “Do you want me to…?”
“No, no.” You replied, shaking your head. “This was about you. Making you feel better. That’s all I wanted to do.”
“Well, what if I said making you feel good would make me feel even better than I already do?” He asked, voice low and gravely. Sexy.
“Oh really, Kansas?” You asked, brow arched.
“Really.”
With a giggle, you shifted off his lap and onto the couch, laying back against the arm and letting your knees fall apart. “Well… who would I be to stop you?”
summary: dating your father’s best friend wasn’t exactly a good idea, but it was working out fine for you. until your once sweet, devoted, loving older boyfriend starts ignoring you.
cw:18+!!, dbf!joel, age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is early 20s), slight angst?, unprotected pinv, sorta whiny joel
an: soooo… i've been neglecting my Man's Best Friend mini series so bad. sorry its been so damn long since ive posted anything, life has been a bitch for the past couple months. i hope you guys enjoy this, and i intend to get back into writing more because i miss being on here and interacting with you guys 💗 anyways, i hope you all had a good february
ps. i feel sooo rusty writing smut so im sorry if this is kinda funky 😣
Your summer had been filled with all the cheesy couple moments you thought you’d never get to experience.
Picnics at sunset, swimming in a crystal clear lake on a sunny day, watching a movie at the drive in while the two of you focused more on each other than the film. Your days were hardly spent away from him.
Joel Miller. Your boyfriend of a few months now. And also, conveniently, your next door neighbor.
Oh, and your dad’s best buddy.
Did you forget to mention that Joel was over twenty years older than you?
It didn’t matter. Or, rather, you didn’t care, and neither did Joel. You two were okay with hiding the relationship from your father for now, and during the one conversation you had about the whole thing, you decided to cross that bridge when you got there.
Things were still new, still fresh. You two lived in a blissful bubble of cute dates in the next town over—where people wouldn’t recognize you—and lots and lots of sex. Like, a lot.
You weren’t serious, but you did really like him. You actually found yourself wanting to gush about him to your friends, which usually never happened with guys you talked to. This felt like a big step, despite the fact that you’d only been dating for around four months.
It wasn’t surprising that you fell into this rabbit hole of a relationship with Joel. He was everything you could’ve asked for and more.
Sweet always, gentle when it mattered, kind, respectful, sickeningly handsome, the list went on. Sure, he couldn’t work technology for shit, and the few times you attempted phone sex you had to stop because he was too frustrated to get turned on, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.
He sent flowers to your work, took you on actually thought out dates, and overall treated you like a goddess. What boy your age would’ve done the same thing? None.
But then, the unthinkable happened. Summer gave way to August, and all of a sudden Joel’s messages dwindled. His texts had less hearts than usual, seemed drier. He started bailing on dates, giving B.S excuses and apologies. Then he stopped calling, stopped texting, stopped coming around when your dad was out of the house. It was just radio silence.
Had you gotten ghosted by a forty-something-year old man who could hardly send a GIF? It seemed so.
To even your own surprise, you were actually hurt. Not angry, not vindictive, just… sad.
You had actually liked Joel, had convinced yourself that maybe—age gap be damned—he could be the one for you. Like maybe the reason no other boys had clicked was because they were just that. Boys. You thought that Joel was unlike all of those college aged guys who thought they were the shit.
Clearly, you’d been wrong.
He’d played you like a fiddle. Polished you up good, played some pretty notes, then smashed you against a stage floor like a wannabe rockstar.
Eventually though, the tightness in your chest eased and was replaced with the much easier to handle feeling of anger.
So one day when you dad was out, you stormed the short distance between yards to Joel’s house. You planned to bang on his door, but his garage door was open and he was tinkering away inside. You stepped into the garage, looking around for him. You were stumped momentarily, before you noticed his legs sticking out from under his truck.
You huffed silently, standing there with your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for him to slide out while ignoring how deliciously huge his thighs looked being hugged by denim.
He slid out on the rolly-thingy, sitting up and dusting his hands off. Then he noticed you and let out a very un-Joel-like yelp.
You almost chuckled.
Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Why’ve you been ignoring me?”
He sputtered, wiping his hands off on his jeans as he stood. “I’ve just… been busy, darlin’.”
“Busy?” You scoffed, eyes widening. “Too busy to text? Or call? We haven’t talked in days, Joel. That’s completely unlike you, and you wanna just call that ‘being busy?’”
You knew your voice was raising, but you couldn’t help it. The anger was still there, of course, but now it was mixing with all those other more vulnerable emotion. Sadness, fear, self consciousness.
One thought remained firmly planted in your brain despite all the others swirling around it.
He doesn’t want me anymore.
“Hey—hey,” He scolded, grabbing your biceps and steering you inside his home. “Keep it down, why don’t ya’? Unless you want the whole damn neighborhood to know what we were up to.”
The words were like a dagger to your already aching heart. He was ashamed. Of you, of your relationship, all of it. That was why he ghosted you.
The tears came before you even realized your chin was wobbling, fat and heavy and dripping down your cheeks steadily. You crumpled in on yourself, covering your face with your hands so you didn’t have to see the way Joel reacted.
But to your surprise, he embraced you.
His big arms wrapped around you and tugged you into his chest, one had running through your hair while the other rubbed up and down your back. He cooed softly, his chin planted on the top of your head while he murmured.
“Oh, baby. I’m sorry. Goddamnit, I’m so sorry, sweet girl. Jeez, I’m an ass.”
He pressed gentle kisses to your scalp, soothing you while you came down from your outburst. Only once you calmed did he pull away, cupping your wet cheeks with his rough palms. “I’m sorry, baby. I never meant for this to affect ya’ so much.”
You sniffled, shoulders shaking while you gently held onto his wrists. He was looking at you so tenderly, his eyes locked on yours while his thumbs brushed moisture off your cheeks.
He looked haggard. Completely torn apart in a way you’d never seen before. His brows were pinched and his brown eyes looked more puppy-dog than usual. It was almost as jarring as it was endearing.
“I’m sorry. I thought… Christ. Thought you’d be better off without an old man like me. Figured if I… let go slowly it’d make things easier.” He mumbled, voice thick with remorse.
You huffed, shoving him back with a hand on his chest. “Well it didn’t. You didn’t even think to ask what I wanted, you just made the choice for me.”
“I know, sweetheart, an’ that wasn’t fair. I know that now.” He sighed heavily, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I had no right to make that choice for ya’, just thought I was doin’ what was right. But just know, I’ve missed ya’ every goddamn day.”
Despite the way his words had your heart warming, you were still upset. Joel had taken the choice away from you and only ended up hurting you both in the process. Part of you wanted to just walk out, leave him feel as shitty as you had been for days now. But the other part of you wanted nothing more than to bury into his chest and melt against his warmth.
He seemed to catch the look of conflict on your face, sighing softly. “You have every right to be mad at me. Hell, I’m mad at me.”
“I’m…” You sighed, shoulders slumping. “I am mad. But I’m also relieved. I thought… I thought you didn’t want me anymore, Joel.”
“Christ, sweetheart. No.” He said earnestly, stepping forward and cupping your cheeks again. “I want you. More than anythin’.”
You sniffled again, letting him hold your face again. He brushed the remaining moisture from your cheeks, gazing down at you so softly.
“I never stopped wanting you.”
"You mean that?" You asked softly, looking up at him as he blinked down at you.
Instead of answering, he leaned his head down and pressed his lip to yours, kissing you gently. The feeling of his lips on yours was a welcomed one after so long without it, and you found yourself melting against him like butter in a hot pan.
His arms wrapped around you, one big hand splaying on the small of your back while the other tangled in your hair and held you to him. Then he was walking you backwards through his living room. You were so engrossed in the feeling of his tongue brushing against yours that you hardly noticed when you knocked over the small end table by his couch, and he didn’t care much either.
He parted from you only after you bumped into another wall. A string of saliva connected your mouths while he caught his breath, eyes closed like he was trying to steady himself. Then he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
He carried you upstairs with a swiftness only possessed by a man eager to get your clothes off, practically kicking open the door to his bedroom. He dropped you down on the bed hard enough that you bounced, but still gentle. Careful. Like he always was.
Now however, his eyes were on you like a lion eyeing a gazelle standing across a field.
“Been too damn long, baby.” He groaned, his hand sneaking down the front of his body to squeeze his growing bulge. “All ‘cause I’m a damn idiot.”
Any other time you would’ve laughed at him. Teased him for how desperate he seemed. Played a game with him to see how long it’d take for him to snap. But now? All you wanted was his hands on your body.
“Please, Joel.” You whispered, your hand popping open the button of your jean shorts.
He took that as a sign, grabbing your jean shorts by the waistband and tugging them down along with your panties. It seemed he also was in no mood to tease.
He let out a harsh noise when he saw your exposed cunt, something between a groan and a whine. His hands landed on your knees, spreading your legs carefully as his eyes stayed glued on the glistening spot between your thighs.
“Jesus,” he exhaled, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they met your cunt. Slowly, reverently, he used his thumbs to spread your folds and admire the mess between them.
“This all for me?” He asked gruffly, his eyes finally flickering up to yours. It was a teasing question he'd usually ask, but now it felt different, like it was charged. Heavy.
You squirmed under all his attention, feeling achingly needy. “Quit it.”
“‘S alright, darlin’. Don’t’cha worry. I’ll take care of it.” He murmured before standing up, tugging the neckline of his shirt and pulling it over his head.
You did the same, leaving you bare in front of him while he remained in his jeans and boots, staring down at you. From this angle he looked massive. Hell, he was already a big guy—six feet tall, weighing in at 200 something, thick with muscle and a healthy layer of fat that made him broad and sturdy—but looking at him from this angle was something else all together.
Your eyes traced his greying body hair all the way to where it disappeared into his jeans, leaving you to reminisce on the rest of him. Those thick thighs, the hair surrounding him in a neat thatch, his heavy cock.
With a clink, he removed his belt and pulled it from the loops before tossing it aside somewhere. Then he kicked off his boots and tugged down his jeans and boxers in one quick movement.
And finally, he was gloriously naked in front of you.
He looked just as pretty as the last time he had you naked in his room, spread out on his bed. His cock was achingly hard, the tip flushed and leaking, crying for relief. You practically salivated when you watched a bead of precum dribble out and roll down the underside of his mushroom tip.
Gently, he wrapped his hand around his shaft and stroked it a few times, letting out a groan. He slapped his tip against your clit, causing you to yelp and twitch while his head tipped back. You felt some arousal trickle out of your hole and drip down your ass.
“Joel,” you wined, squirming a bit. “Don’t tease. ‘M tired of waiting.”
He didn’t chuckle in that mocking way he usually did, instead his eyes stayed glued to your cunt as he rubbed his tip through your folds and collected the wetness there. He looked wrecked, with more than just arousal. Something like remorse, or guilt.
“I know, I know. Been neglectin’ you. ‘M sorry, baby.” He said softly, voice a rumble in his throat. "Never gonna happen again, you hear me?"
His big hand gripped your thigh, guiding it further apart so that he could step closer between your legs. He jerked his cock a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, rubbing circles into the skin of your inner thigh as he pushed into your tight hole.
It was a stretch, especially since it had been a while since you'd had sex, and Joel was pretty big. You let out a moan that matched his grunt of pleasure, eyes rolling back as he filled you inch by inch. It was so delectable after going that time without him, even if the stretched burned a little.
"Joel," you whined, voice needy. As he bottomed out and that patch of hair brushed your clit, you felt deliciously full. "God--move. Please."
His hands gripped your hips harshly, but at your instructions he pulled his hips back and guided them in slowly. You could feel every ridge and vein brush along your walls, stimulating you so perfectly it made your thighs shake.
He looked just as wrecked as you were feeling, his eyes half lidded and his jaw clenched like he was holding in moans.
"Oh, baby." He groaned, his upper body falling forward to lay over yours. "Forgot how good this was. Thought I could--shit--though I could do without. Thought I could get over you."
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, mouthing at your skin as his hips began to snap against yours harder and faster. "I was so wrong, baby. Can't be without you. Goddamnit, I need you."
The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed through the room, mixing with your moans and his grunts that were muffled against your neck. He didn't let up at all, instead just moving with more intensity. Each thrust moved you further up the bed, but Joel would simply drag you back onto his cock by your hips.
His sloppy, open mouthed kisses traveled down your neck to your chest. His lips found your perked nipple, wrapping around the peak as he suckled and laved his hot tongue over it. Your moans grew louder, more shrill and whiny as your pleasure climbed higher and higher, mounting within you with a twisting in your gut.
"Oh fuck, Joel!" You cried as your hand tangled in his hair, tugging on the strands enough to make him hum around your nipple. "Don't--don't stop, oh god!"
He parted from your nipple with a pop, pulling back to look at your flushed, blissed out face. With an almost tender action, he guided his thumb between your lips to press against your tongue. You didn't need instruction to begin to suck on his thumb, and he watched you with stormy eyes.
Pulling his thumb from your mouth, he guided it down to press on your clit and rub in tight circles.
"Cum for me, baby. Gotta feel you cum for me. Squeeze me, milk him dry." Joel practically pleaded, his thrusts growing desperate and stunted. You could tell he was trying not to cum before you, despite how hard it seemingly was for him.
Your back arched as sparks shot through your body, the wave of climax washing over you with a blissful warmth. Your walls spasmed around his cock, fluttering in time with your erratic heartbeat. Joel could hardly keep himself stable as his own orgasm hit.
Spurts of cum painted your walls, filling you with the same warmth that spread through the rest of your limbs.
You weren't sure how much time passed with Joel collapsed atop your body while his cock softened inside of you, but it didn't matter when you felt like this. Relaxed, at peace, relieved.
Joel still wanted you, he hadn't moved on and forgotten about you, or found another woman to do this with. He was still yours, just as you were his.
As the two of you bathed in that post orgasmic glow, his head on your chest and your hands running through his hair, his lips continued to press gentle kisses to your skin.
"I'm sorry, baby. I was such an idiot. It'll never happen again. God, I... I love you, darlin', you know that?"
Your heart stuttered in your chest, beating harder than before. You and Joel had never exchanged such words, never acknowledged your relationship too seriously before. But now, after almost losing him, it felt fitting.
"I love you too, Joel." You whispered, voice soft.
He pushed up so he was no longer crushing you, hovering above you and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "All I want, baby. I know that now."
He managed to shift over without pulling out, rolling onto his side and pulling you against him. Once you were tucked into his side, he pressed a kiss to your temple and let out a relieved sigh, like he could breathe better now that you were at his side.
hello!! this message is for anybody who has started reading or intended on reading my series Cowboy Up!
i have decided to delete this story from tumblr, as i don’t see myself updating it consistently and the chapters i do have up currently have been edited and revised since i first posted them
but!!! i will be posting this story to my ao3 account, which will be linked in my pinned post! as of this post, i have 6 chapters posted and will try to post every friday. if anybody has any questions or comments about my story, feel free to message me here! i love getting feedback, so anything is welcome ❤️
i hope whoever reads Cowboy Up enjoys it as much as i enjoy writing it, and i’m so excited to share this with all of you guys🙈
It always is now. Not for any particular reason. Or maybe, rather, all of the reasons. The kitchen light has been broken for months, with nobody to fix it. The curtains remain drawn, whether it’s sunny or snowing. You didn’t bother with any decorations this year, so the house lacks the warm glow of the incandescent lights on the tree.
You don’t mind the darkness, not really. It’s become your normal.
A lot of things have changed, have become the “new norm.”
One year ago, everything was different. It was hard to imagine how so much could change in the span of 12 months. 365 days.
You sat on the couch, a forgotten book laying open in your lap. Your tea on the coffee table went cold twenty minutes ago, and the fire turned to ash long before that. Your brain felt like static, filled with nothing but white noise.
It all stopped when your eyes landed on the bookshelf, on the big photo album sitting in the bottom shelf, coated in a thick layer of dust.
After everything, you hadn’t touched the thing. Couldn’t bear to. But, something felt different now.
You closed your book and placed it aside, standing from the rickety couch. Your cold feet padded on the hardwood floors, crossing the too-big, too-empty living room. With almost cautious movements, you sunk to your knees on the floor next to the bookshelf, bracing yourself gently.
The photo album felt fuzzy with dust, but you brushed it away and pulled the thing out of the shelf. The dust that swarmed the air attacked your nose, but a sneeze expelled it all. You brushed your palm along the front of the album and wiped away as much of the dust as possible, then you flipped the album open.
The pictures were old and worn, and most of the slots were empty. With such limited resources for photographs, pictures were only taken of really special memories.
You flipped through the pages mindlessly, smiling lightly at pictures of Ellie, Tommy, and Maria. Some from the springtime, or the summer, or the fall that Ellie and Dina had tried to make pumpkin pie in your kitchen.
Then you came to the last page, with pictures from last year. From Christmas.
The picture was of Joel, sitting in front of the tree, bathed in that warm glow of reds and blues and greens. The lights from the tree reflected in his eyes, making them shimmer. His hand was reaching out, and his mouth was open like he was mid sentence when you’d taken the picture.
You remembered this moment. Vividly.
You hadn’t thought about it in so long, but now, with this picture, everything flooded back to you.
“Joel—Joel! Quit!” You laughed, swatting his hand away as he pinched your hip.
“Come ‘ere. Quit with that camera, darlin’.” He grumbled, but the smirk on his face suggested that he wasn’t all that mad.
You placed the camera down on the mantel anyways, giggling to yourself as you crossed the room towards him. “Don’t be a baby. You looked pretty, ‘s all.”
“Pretty? A grumpy ol’ bastard like me? No way in hell, baby.” He murmured, pulling you even closer, so that you were standing between his legs.
“Oh, stop.” You chided, pinching his chin. “You’re pretty.”
“Mm, ‘f you think I’m pretty then you oughta see yourself.” He mused, his big palms finding place on your hips, warning you through your sweats.
You smiled and leaned your head down, catching his lips in a soft, slow kiss. He pulled you closer and returned the warmth of the kiss, his hand sliding up your back.
Christmas was your favorite holiday, always had been, and every year Joel tried to make it as special as possible. A few years ago he’d found these lights on patrol, and just a few weeks ago he brought you out of the walls so the two of you could pick a worthy tree. All of your ornaments were homemade, but that just made everything more special. Every decoration here had a memory, or something that made it special to you. Joel knew that, understood it, which is why he tried so hard.
The kiss ended, and Joel pressed his forehead against yours with a gentleness that had been learned from years of you coaxing it out of him. His hands, still settled at your back, rubbed firm circles into your muscles. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Joel.” You whispered back, tracing the scruff on his cheeks with the pads of your fingers, like you were memorizing him.
“Always gonna love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Then the other cheek, then you forehead. “Till my dyin’ breath.”
The house was dark. Everything was different now. Joel was gone. Outside, the people of Jackson still celebrated, and the violent death of Joel Miller was a distant memory. A whispered story spread among the kids. A cautionary tale told by the adults.
But to you, everything was different. Christmas wasn’t Christmas without Joel.
So hard in fact, it seemed all the blood in his brain had rushed down to his cock, turning him completely dumb.
He wanted nothing more right now than to be inside your tight heat, surrounded by the feel of you. Gorgeous, perfect, completely irresistible you. But instead he was sitting three feet away, on the other end of the couch, while you were completely focused on the movie playing on the TV.
He wasn’t moping, per se, but he was a bit antsy. The bulge in his pants was uncomfortable now, but he refused to say anything about it.
Especially not after the conversation you’d had just yesterday night, as he was trying to wash the dishes that had piled up.
“Clark, I gotta talk to you.” You’d said, voice all serious.
He had been immediately worried, and gave you his full attention. You let out a big heaving sigh before continuing. “So… I went to my gynecologist today. For my pap smear.”
“Is everything alright?” He’d asked urgently, drying off his hands before turning to face you fully.
You’d nodded, quick and assuredly. “No, yeah! I’m okay. I’m fine. It’s just that the doctor noticed some, uhm, bruising.”
“Bruising?” He’d repeated, rather dumbly now that he looked back on it.
“Bruising.” You had affirmed with a nod, solemn like. “On my cervix. Because you’re so… big.”
“Oh.”
So he’d decided to put his foot down and tell you that you two needed to take a break from sex, because he refused to hurt you, or be the reason that you were in any pain. And despite how many times you insisted you were fine, he told you he wasn’t changing his mind on this.
Only now he really, really wanted to change his mind.
After the fifth time Clark shifted in the last five minutes, you side eyed him from your spot in the corner of the couch. He was so hard you could see the whole print of his cock through his pants.
Damn those gray sweats you’d bought him last Christmas.
His eyes were glued to your legs, and you were pretty sure he hadn’t watched a minute of the movie since you’d sat down. Admittedly, you’d sorta pavloved him into getting hard every time you wore these specific sleep shorts, which may or may not have been the entire reason you’d strutted out in them to begin with.
Ever since Clark had begun withholding sex—all of twenty-four hours—you’d felt feral. You didn’t care about bruising on your cervix, you just wanted that dick!
But it seemed Clark’s resolve was just as terrible as yours, judging by the way he looked like he was about to pounce on you.
“You know, Clark…” You cooed, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “If you want to have sex that bad, I really don’t mind.”
“What?” He coughed, straightening up. “I-I don’t… I never said…”
“You didn’t have to, he spoke for you.” You countered, pointing at the not so little problem in his pants.
He snatched the throw pillow off that was next to him, covering his crotch as his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed bright red.
“Baby, it’s fine. Let’s just have sex. You want to, I want to, it’s a win-win!”
“I—no!” He protested, shaking his head so wildly that a curl fell over his forehead. “I thought we agreed not until the bruising got better. I don’t want to hurt you, baby…”
“Claaark,” you groaned. “Please! You know we both want to!”
“But I don’t want to hurt you!” He repeated, voice growing shriller.
The next ten minutes continued as this back and forth, with you essentially begging for sex and Clark telling you all the completely unnecessary reasons why you shouldn’t.
Finally, you’d had enough. “Fine! What if you don’t actually fuck me?”
That had him confused enough to finally shut him up, his mouth agape and his brows furrowed.
“What?”
“Y’know, what if theres no possibility of you bruising my cervix.” You said with a shrug, biting your lower lip. “Remember that thing I said I wanted to try? Thigh-fucking?”
Clark groaned, shifting his hips against the decorative pillow that was still covering his groin. “Baby, that sounds so…”
“Hot?” You finished for him, crawling closer.
He huffed, short and pensive. Finally, he relented. “Jeez louise… Yes, it sounds hot.”
“Then what’s the hold up?” You murmured, pushing the pillow to the ground before straddling his lap and kissing up the side of his neck. He gripped your hips and squeezed, his broad palms landing on their usual position.
“Mm… nothing.” He grumbled finally giving in and capturing your lips in a firm kiss.
The kiss was slow and sensual, with love poured int every second of it as Clark’s big hand tangled in your hair and held you to him. Then he was lifting you like you weighed nothing at all and laying you against the couch.
Clark wasted no time shucking off his sweats and kicking them aside. You were so beautiful under him, just like always, even fully clothed.
He ran his hands up your thighs, groaning softly when he felt your soft skin. He brought his other hand to wrap around his cock—which was painfully hard and steadily leaking precum—and jerked it a few times.
“You sure you don’t mind?” He asked, voice strained. “You don’t exactly get much pleasure from this…”
“Watching you is enough.” You replied, all soft and sensual. “Besides, I have a feeling you’ll make it up to me after.”
“Dang right.” He sighed as he squeezed your thighs together tight, admiring your body for a moment before he slid his cock between your thighs.
The feeling was beautiful. Not as good as your pussy, but better than his own fist by a mile. He immediately groaned out loud, tipping his head back.
“Oh, baby.” He sighed, thrusting his hips back and forth, picking up his speed as he chased the pleasure. In mere minutes, he was whining and moaning as his hips smacked against the underside of your thighs. Your inner thighs were soaked with precum, making each thrust slick and smooth.
He squeezed your thighs tighter around his cock, letting out a whimper of your name. His fingers left dimples in your skin where they dug in, gentle enough to not leave bruises but rough enough that you felt the desperation.
He let out a sharp breath when his hips stuttered, a moan falling from his lips as ropes of cum spurted from his cock and landed on your shirt. The noises he was making, those needy whimpers and soft whines, were enough to have you flooding your panties.
“Jeez…” Clark exhaled, rubbing his hands along the outside of your thighs. “You were right. It was hot.”
hello everybody, i wanted to get on here to talk about a few things
firstly, i am so sorry that i didn’t hold my promise of finishing kinktober at the start of november like i said. i was hit by such procrastination that i totally pushed it all aside💔
i’ve been dealing with a lot mentally over the past couple weeks and honestly writing at all has been a huge challenge for me lately, which is so disappointing :(
however, with all that being said, i still have every intention of posting those final three kinktober posts because i want to finish the whole month even if they’re late
finally, i want to thank everybody for reading and supporting my work. i truly appreciate each and every one of you so much🥹
i was really hoping to get my last four kinktober posts out tonight (yes i am so behind my goodness...) but your girl is absolutely POOOOOPED. i hope everybody had an amazing halloween, and i will finish up kinktober tomorrow (promise)!!!!!!
They stared at you for only a moment before they pounced.
Superman tugged you up and off the metal table, hoisting you into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. His cock was hard and leaking, pressed between your folds as he slammed his lips against yours once again.
His mouth was hot and sloppy against yours, his kiss pouring out desperation and wanton need. It was enough to have you grinding your hips against his, rubbing your slick up and down his length.
Ultraman let out a grunt from behind the two of you, still tugging his hard cock as he watched you and Superman make out like it was his very own porno.
As soon as you two made eye contact over Superman’s shoulder, he was coming over and pressing against your back, sandwiching you between the two large men.
“I’m losing my mind,” Superman mumbled, kissing down your neck. “I need to be inside of you.”
Ultraman made a similar noise in the back of his throat, his hands coming up to grope your breasts.
You whined at the way Superman’s thick cock twitched against your cunt, the weight of it almost frightening. He used one hand to hold you up while the other reached between your bodies, wrapping a hand around himself while it rubbed his tip up your folds.
Behind you, Ultraman humped against your ass, his cock hard and throbbing. Superman guided his cock inside of your messy pussy, the stretch intense but easy after how the two had been playing with you.
He let out an immediate sigh of relief, his head burying into the crook of your neck as he nipped at the skin. He buried to the hilt, stalling there for a few moments.
Then you felt Ultraman’s tip nudge at your already filled entrance.
“Oh my god,” you exhaled shakily, the idea of two monster sized cocks inside of one hole was enough to have your breath hitching.
Ultraman used his hand to feed his tip into your entrance, stretching you out so much it was overwhelming. Superman let out a ragged groan as he felt the dual sensation of your walls tightening and Ultraman’s cock against his own.
Your eyes rolled back as Ultraman pushed all the way in, until his pelvis was flush against your ass. Then he was pulling back and thrusting back in.
Superman and Ultraman fell into a steady rhythm, never leaving you empty. Every time one pulled back, the other thrusted in, until you were a mindless, whining mess.
You panted against Superman’s chest, breathing ragged and unsteady. His voice was coming out in groans against your skin, hoarse and almost whiny. It was so unlike the image you had in your mind with the strong, sure Superman.
Ultraman fucked you like he was feral, his hips slapping against your ass as his thrusts sped up. It wasn’t long until your thighs began to quiver around Superman’s hips.
“I got ya’,” he mumbled, tightening his grip on your thighs. “Come for us. C’mon, give it to us.”
You nodded, a moan of their names on your lips. It came out louder than you intended, more of a scream as they thrust in at the same time and filled you so much you could practically feel them in your throat.
Your hands scrabbled do purchase against Superman’s chest and shoulders while he and Ultraman held you up. Your cunt fluttered around their cocks, pulsing and gushing when you finally came.
“Oh—golly.” Superman whined, sucking a mark against your neck as he jerked his hips a few times and came deep inside of you. The feeling—the warmth of Superman’s cum and your walls combined—was enough to have Ultraman following suit, coming so hard it gushed out and down your thighs.
The two men stayed like that for a while, with you smushed between them and their cocks nestled deep inside of you. Finally, when the ache in your hips became too much, you got them to back off and pull out.
You stood on wobbly, doe-like legs, trying to collect yourself. Standing there, with cum dripping down the inside of your thighs an drying against you skin, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a sense of pride.
The men still looked wrecked, cocks bobbed up against their bellies. You realized then that they were both still achingly hard.
You and Joel had been seeing each other in secret for weeks now. That meant sneaking around behind your father’s back, pretending like you and Joel were much less acquainted than you really were, and agreeing without hesitation that Joel teaching you how to drive stick was a ‘great idea’.
Your father thought he was being smart, avoiding all the hard parts of teaching you how to drive the busted truck he’d handed down to you, but little did he know you wouldn’t be doing much learning.
No, currently you had your hand wrapped around Joel’s rock hard cock instead of the gear shift, pumping your hand rhythmically as his fingers delved into your folds.
He groaned your name, his head falling back against the passenger seat as he grabbed your wrist and began to control the pace. The sound of him so wrecked was enough to make you smile.
He brought his free hand to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, but rather tugging you closer. Until your lips brushed against his with each pant you let out.
His fingers circled your clit again as he nipped your lower lip, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he continued his touch pace.
“Mmph—Joel,” you whined, squirming back. “What if somebody sees?” 
“Nobody’s gonna see,” he chided, slipping two fingers inside of you and curling them. “And if they do? Shit, they’d get a hell of a show, baby.”
You bit back another whine, grinding against the palm of his hand.
He pulled back, looking you up and down while he grinned. He could always tell how you were feeling, but especially when you were about to cum. That was why he pulled his fingers away and left you empty, mourning the loss of his warmth.
He looked at you with heavily lidded eyes before helping you crawl over the center console, then settled you in his lap. He steadied you with big hands on your hips before easing you down, not yet making you take his cock, though you knew it’d happen soon enough, if that predatory glint in his eyes was anything to go off of.
“See this, baby?” He asked as he took his hard cock in his hand. He gave it a few strokes before squeezing the tip, coaxing out a few drops of precum. “He wants ya’ real bad.”
He pushed the gusset of your panties aside and bared you to him, running his finger through your folds once more. He captured your lips in a kiss and tangled his tongue with yours as a means of distracting you, then he positioned his tip at your entrance and slid you down on it.
He wasn’t slow or gentle, instead slamming you up and down on his achingly hard cock and using your hips as handles to bounce you up and down. Each moan that tumbled from your lips only seemed to spur him on.
The windows were fogged up now, and your hand left a print in the condensation as you buried your face into the crook of his neck and moaned. “Joel, Joel! Fuck! Don’t stop—oh shit!”
He grunted into your ear, thrusting up into you simultaneously as he bounced you. His thrusts were so brutal that the truck began to rock, making the whole thing completely unsubtle.
But you were past the point of caring, especially when you were so close to cumming on his cock.
He felt you squeezing him, and this time he didn’t stop you. Instead, he grabbed your chin hard, angling your face where he wanted it and kissing you sloppily. Drool dripped down your chin, both yours and his saliva mixing as he licked into your mouth as you both reached your climax.
Your whines were muffed against his mouth, and his groans disappeared somewhere between his rough kisses. When he pulled away, the string of saliva connecting you two broke and dripped down to where you two were connected. He saw the white ring of your arousal surrounding the base of his cock, the sight alone sending another weak rope of cum spurting out of him.
He pulled you off of him, watching his thick cum trickle out of you and onto his lap. The sight was worth the fact that he’d have to wash these jeans again today.
You adjusted atop him, sliding your panties back over to cover your puffy pussy before sitting down in the drivers seat. Joel reached over and patted your thigh, flashing you a lazy grin.
“Alright sweetheart, back to work. Still don’t even know how to engage the clutch.”
summary: after a one off joke about scott’s performance in bed, he’s determined to prove you wrong. or make you regret your words. either way, you end up a mess.
cw: 18+!!!, oral (f!receiving), unprotected pinv, use of restraints, one pussy slap, little bit of pussy pronouns, little dacryphilia, bit of soft!scott at the end
an: it’s been so long since i’ve written for scotty i feel like i’ve been neglecting my boy
Your wrists tied to the bed, legs manhandled open by one very smug Scott Miller as he lapped at your cunt. He hadn’t let you cum even once.
He’d been relentless, licking and sucking and slurping. Each time you whined and tried to pull back, he only tightened his grip and tugged you closer. His fingers had been working you open with an almost angry vigor.
But the fucking grin on his face was all pleased.
“Scotty,” you whined, hips jumping when his hot tongue made another pass over your clit. “Please! I didn’t mean it!”
He tsked, pulling back and sliding two thick fingers into your crying entrance and curling them to press up against that spongy spot inside of you.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, something that could’ve passed as sweet if not for the way your legs trembled. “You knew what you were trying to start.”
“A-ahhh,” you moaned, your hands tugging uselessly at the soft ties around your wrists. They weren’t tight, but they were firm enough to keep you helpless.
He went right back to it.
He gathered a glob of saliva in his mouth and spat onto your clit, the mere pressure enough to have you jolting. Then he was making out with your pussy again.
He gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise, shifting them to rest over his shoulders. His tongue focused on your clit, flicking it over and over until your thighs squeezed around his head.
You were so close, right there, just on the cusp of the pleasure he’d been depriving you of for so long—
Then he pulled away again, grinning up at you with that goddamn look.
“Scott!” You screamed—not out of pleasure, like you should be, but out of pure anguish. “Please! I was right there!”
“I know,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound as he chuckled. His hand found your folds again, running through them leisurely. “Could feel her fluttering. Poor girl.”
You didn’t know if he was talking about you or your pussy, but you didn’t really care. You felt like he’d rubbed you raw, and overstimulated you so thoroughly you were either going to pass out or go crazy.
You craned your neck to look down at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. “Please, Scott. I just need to cum.”
“Oh, you better ask me better than that.” He tsked, clicking his tongue.
With a heavy sigh, you attempted to roll you hips up, but he pinned you back down. “Scotty, please.. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. You know I was joking!”
“Do I, baby?” He asked as he landed a soft slap to your already throbbing clit. “Think you oughta tell me.”
“You’re not the second best I’ve ever had, Scott! You’re the best, you know it!” You squealed, squirming underneath him. Tears had prickled up in your eyes by now, playing on your lash lines as you pleaded your case to the court that was Scott Miller and his goddamn ego.
If you’d known joking that he was the second best you’d ever had would’ve effected him this much, you would’ve kept your trap shut.
He moved one leg off of his shoulders, closing your legs and folding them up against your chest. As he pressed a kiss to the backs of your slick thighs, it seemed he was finally having mercy on your poor pussy.
He placed your legs down, running his palms up your skin. He leaned over you to untie your wrists, soothing the irritated skin where the silk had rubbed with the pads of his thumbs.
“Oh, baby… That’s all you needed to say. I’m gonna take care of ya’ now, yeah? Gonna let you cum now.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple before he spread your legs again.
You were almost painfully sore, but your desperation to cum trumped all of that.
Tears trickled down your cheeks but you nodded anyways, spreading your legs willingly for him.
He stripped himself quickly, pulling his cock out and working it in slow strokes. He was already hard, and the last shred of coherency you had told you that he was probably just as desperate as you were.
He just had a lot more restraint.
He entered you in one quick thrust, since there was no resistance after how long he’d been working you. His cock filled you so much, the feeling blissful after all of his teasing. It only took a few rough thrusts for your orgasm to build up in your belly, tightening and pulling your spine taut.
Your back bowed off the bed as your hands squeezed his biceps, nails digging into his skin. He leaned on and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning as your walls clamped down on him tighter than ever.
“S-Scott!” You cried, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut as your orgasm hit with such intensity it was blinding. You gushed and squirted around him, finally getting the relief your body had been denied for so long.
Scott stayed buried to the hilt—not that he could pull out with how hard you were sucking him in—as he came, spurts of cum filling you up until it spilled out and spilled down your ass. He groaned your name, kissing the tears off your temples as he rocked inside of you.
The sheets underneath your body were wet with combined juices, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. Scott merely chuckled above you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
excuse me for stating the obvious but like. james gunn outright calling superman an immigrant and doubling down on it when he got backlash (because he IS an immigrant, that's the point of superman) + the in-movie dialogue of "aren't you going to read me my rights?" "you're an extraterrestrial, son. you haven't got any rights to read." + the violence of his arrest and how they torture and mistreat him unapologetically, all under the guise of "protecting america", in a film releasing during the onslaught of violent ICE kidnappings and abuse... yeah it's really no wonder right-wing knobheads are crying about this being woke. they're being forced to look directly at the reasons one of the most well-known and beloved heroes of all time would not be on their side. and that's only ONE of the reasons this movie covers
