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Ryn, she/her, 22
✰ My content is not made to be consumed by anyone under the age of 18. MDNI. Any blogs that are blank, nameless, ageless, etc. will be blocked. ✰
☆ Currently working on: Divorced Scott Miller x Reader
☆ Requests are currently: OPEN for DAVID CORENSWET CHARACTERS
Request Guidelines
☆ My AO3 can be found here
Masterlists for Adam Driver characters, Coriolanus Snow & Billy the Kid, Clark Kent/Superman, and Scott Miller are linked below the cut!
→ Adam Driver Characters
→ Coriolanus Snow & Billy the Kid
→ Clark Kent/Superman
→ Scott Miller
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
rynwritesstuff - 2026. Do not copy, steal, or repost my work.
Divider by saradika-graphics
hope you’re doing better!! wishing you the best 🥺🥺🥺
:(( this is so kind omg thank you!!! I appreciate you so much. I am doing MUCH better. I’m off to celebrate my birthday weekend (I’m gonna be 22 on the 25th!! Exciting!!) so I’ll be offline until next week most likely.
But!!! I love you all, and I am so excited to grind out some fics over the summer :) feel free to message me or send me some asks while I’m away!
Thank you again anon <3
getting vulnerable for a moment even though it’s uncomfortable….my medication recently changed and it’s made me super groggy and unable to think clearly (don’t worry, i have a psych appointment tomorrow) and i’ve been trying to write for the past 20 minutes and not a single idea has come to me. so, that being said, it’s gonna be a little bit before i can get some content out to you guys. i hate having to talk about this because i enjoy handling it on my own, but i feel that i owe you guys some honesty.
take care, i love you guys, ill chat soon!!!!
ryn <3
SCOTTIE ALWAYSSSS
YEAHHHH OMG OKAY THANK YOU FOR THIS!!! I always get a little nervous writing Scott because I feel like Clark is more popular lol, so thank you for the outpouring of love for Scott, I love that mean man so dearly
whatever happened to that idea of clark or scott with a single mom? did you ever get into that wip? excited for whatever comes next either way!!
IT IS STILL ON MY RADAR I PROMISE!!! In fact, I hope to do something with it either at the end of this month or at the beginning of June :)) I started it but never finished it because I got extremely distracted. But yes — I remember it, I love it, and I’ll be on it soon!!!
scott omg pls pls scott its so hard out here
I feel you oh my god…I was leaning towards Scott too, there’s just something about that big meanie that makes me feral. Might do another installment of my Divorced!Scott x Reader series….👀
what do the people (you) need? clark or scott or a secret third option
i miss scott….i will find time to write later this week i promise <3
Dirty Little Secret - Divorced!Scott Miller x Reader
Divorced!Scott Miller x Reader
Summary: When your intuition leads you astray during a storm chase, data is lost. Scott, feeling angry and fed up, comes to your motel room afterward to show you exactly how he feels.
Tags: Scott and reader are divorced, NSFW (18+), hatefucking, unprotected pinv, creampie, dirty talk, name-calling, humiliation, Scott's happy trail (obvi), arguing, Scott is a boob guy, nipple sucking
Word Count: 3k
The rain is pitter-pattering against the car in strong, steady droplets. They dot the windshield and collect in the car’s nooks and crannies as you drive along the road. The wind is strong, and you hold the steering wheel steady against it as it whips against the side of the truck. Your brows are furrowed in concentration. You’re focused, locked the hell in, and ready for anything.
“Hit the gas. We’re falling behind,” comes a familiar voice from your right. Your grip on the wheel tightens.
“I’m right behind Javi–”
“You’re about to go uphill, hit the gas,” Scott says again. You glare at him, then press on the pedal and peel ahead down the muddy road.
“Sorry, did you wanna drive instead?”
“I wouldn’t mind it,” he says.
“We both know you’re too anxious for that.”
“I absolutely am not–”
“Shut up, you’re distracting me,” you huff, turning up the windshield wipers and adjusting yourself in the seat. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Scott shake his head and clench his jaw. “So fucking bossy,” you mutter.
“At least one of us knows what they’re doing,” Scott says casually. You smack his arm.
“Stop talking,” you tell him again. “Can’t fucking see in this rain, I don’t need you in my ear at the same time.”
He says nothing else, instead leaning forward in his seat. Suddenly, the storm up ahead seems to change course. You squint, then blink, then reach for your earpiece.
“Javi,” you say into the mic, “go left.”
“What?” Scott says. “Why would we–?”
“Go left, go left!” you say. Javi’s truck veers to the left, and your heart races in your chest. “It’s moving around. You see it, right?”
“I see it,” Javi says back.
“That’s not enough of a change to make a difference,” Scott says sharply. “You’re gonna make us lose it.”
“I’m not gonna make us do anything,” you say firmly. “I can just tell that–”
“Don’t do that,” Scott talks over you.
“--It’s gonna change course, I feel it–”
“How many times have we done this song and dance?” Scott snaps. “It works less than half the time.”
You say nothing, instead pressing on the gas to stay on Javi’s tail. Scott says your name, sharp and angry.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he says, then reaches for his earpiece.
“Don’t listen to her,” he tells Javi. You whip your head to glare at him. “It’s not moving at a sharp enough angle, the path we were on was perfect–”
“Javi, I’m serious–”
“You two need to pull it together, we’re almost on it. Which way am I going?”
“Right!”
“Left!”
Javi’s truck visibly swerves right for a moment, then suddenly goes left in the direction you suggested. Scott slams his hand against the door of the car as you follow behind Javi.
“We won’t be close enough!” he says. You stare straight ahead as you approach the storm. Javi pulls aside and gets out to drop down the radar machine. You drive along a bit further, then put the car in park and unbuckle quickly. Scott is shaking his head furiously as he gets out, too.
“What’s the matter with you!?” he shouts over the wind as you work together to drop down the radar machine. You glance at him, at his angry face, the bulging muscles in his arms, the soaked shirt clinging to his chest. He gestures behind you. Then, you turn and look back at the storm as Scott announces that Scarecrow is down to Javi.
Your stomach drops.
Damn your depth perception. Damn your gut for misguiding you. Damn Javi for listening to you.
The storm has returned to its original course, and you’re no longer in a good position for it to pass over the radar machine in an effective manner. Fuck. Fuck.
Scott is hurrying back to the car, and you curse under your breath as your cheeks get hot. Javi is talking in your earpiece, saying something about how there isn’t enough time to haul the machines back up and move ahead, that it’ll have to just collect what it collects, that whatever happens it’s okay, that you guys will have another chance. That it’s okay.
You get back into the driver seat and buckle up before pulling away to follow Javi. Scott is shaking his head again. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and when you see the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears have flushed, you clench your jaw. He’s angry. He’s pissed. He’s fucking livid.
“-- and I told you it wasn’t a good idea!” you tune back in as he talks. “You don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone but yourself, you do whatever the hell you want even if it’ll cost us.”
“I get it,” you hear yourself say, embarrassment washing over you.
“Do you? Do you really? That’s what you say every time, I’ve heard it over and over and over.”
Javi talks in the earpiece again as the storm passes. You feel hot and shaky as you drive along, as you move away from the storm and its effects. Scott mutters to himself as he looks at the small bit of data you were able to collect from today’s botched adventure. You tune him out as best you can, but you feel angry – like an exposed nerve being touched every single time Scott says something.
You pull into the parking lot of the motel as the gray clouds move overhead. Scott gets out the moment the car is parked, and he slams the door on his way as he mumbles something along the lines of today being pointless.
Fury swells in your chest, this having been the final straw after a humiliating car ride.
“Say it to my face,” you call after him, getting out of the car and fumbling for your room key. Scott pauses, glancing back at you.
“What?” he asks.
“Whatever you just said. Say it to my face,” you say as the other StormPar cars roll in. Javi approaches the two of you – you, mostly, because he knows you all too well, and he feels badly for putting you with Scott in the first place. If only he hadn’t been working with a new hire, he could’ve ridden with his partner and had him all to himself. Lucky him.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Javi says before Scott can respond. Javi puts his hand on your shoulder. “No one’s mad at you. It happens.”
You don’t take your eyes off of Scott.
“She ruined today’s chase,” Scott says, quietly enough for Javi and Javi only to hear. “Stop babying her, she’s a big girl.”
“Fuck you,” you snap, emotion swelling. Javi steps between you and Scott, blocking him from your vision. He says your name soft and kind. You look at him finally.
“Go calm down,” Javi says to you. “Take a breather.”
You open your mouth to speak, then storm towards your room, key in-hand. You hear footsteps, then Javi saying, “Leave her, man.”
You unlock the door, step inside, slam the door behind you, and lean down to untie your boots. You set them next to the door to dry, then smooth your hands over your hair as you let out a shaky breath. With trembling hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt to undo them and remove it. The talking outside your room has quieted. Five minutes have passed since you snapped at Scott, and you sniffle as you toss your StormPar shirt aside.
Knock, knock, knock.
You startle slightly, then lean up on your tip-toes to peer through the peephole. Anger roars in your gut once more. Of course Scott’s back for more.
“Go away.”
“No.”
“I’m serious,” you warn, reaching for the door handle. You swallow harshly. “I-I’m serious.”
“I know,” he says. “Let me in.”
You yank the door open suddenly, inhaling as you do. You glare at him with eyes that he could get lost in, and Scott takes a step forward.
“Back up,” you say. He doesn’t. “Back up–”
“What is your problem?” he asks.
“My problem? What is my problem? What’s your problem!?” you ask as he steps inside. You close and lock the door behind him. “You embarrassed me in front of Javi.”
“You embarrassed yourself,” Scott says, looking you over and taking in your tear-stained cheeks. “You need to get your priorities straight.”
“Is that what this is? You came here to give me a motivational speech?”
“I came here to tell you that Javi feels bad,” Scott snaps. You pause.
“What?”
“He feels bad for you. You should probably text him and tell him you’re fine.”
You huff softly. Fucking Javi. Poor, kind-hearted, well-intentioned Javi.
“Okay. I will. You can go now.”
Scott says your name, then. It’s low. Dangerous. Riddled with lust. You glance at his crotch, then scoff.
“You’re a fuckin’ freak, you know that?” you say sharply. He takes a step towards you.
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Scott says. “I know you too well.”
“Not well enough,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. When you do, your cleavage is made visible due to the low-cut tank top you’re wearing. Scott takes another step forward.
“You’re an idiot, you know,” he says. It’s got no bite behind it. Your eye twitches.
“And you’re a dick,” you say, leaning back against the wall. “You have some nerve coming in here after the way you talked to me.”
“Maybe,” Scott says, taking hold of your wrists and pinning you against the wall you’re already leaning against. “Or maybe I just know how to get you to calm down. I’m doing you a favor, really.”
“Oh, so I should be thanking you, huh?” you ask, heat blooming between your thighs as Scott’s big hands hold you.
“That’s the idea,” he says. He looks you over hungrily. You are silent for a few moments, weighing your options. You want him, there’s no doubt about that. But you’re also embarrassed, and angry, and absolutely boiling over with the desire to let him have it. You give him a challenging look.
“Make me,” you dare him. Scott smirks, then lowers his head to nip at your throat. You inhale sharply, eyes fluttering as his grip on your wrists tightens. He keeps you pinned firmly against the wall and fits his knee between your thighs.
“Mm. You’re warm,” he hums. Your hands clench into fists and you push against him. He keeps you pinned firmly, though, and presses his body against yours.
“It’s summertime,” you manage. Scott laughs at your pathetic attempt to explain away the heat radiating from you.
“Right. I suppose that’s the reason you’re humping my leg, too?”
You still your hips, which you didn’t even realize were moving in the first place.
“I’m not humping you,” you say sharply. Scott takes hold of the hem of your tank top and tugs it up over your head to reveal your breasts, which are nestled in your bra. He unclips your bra and tosses that aside too.
“Mm, lookit these,” Scott sighs, lowering his head to lip and nip at your boobs. You bite your lip and wiggle your hips against him intentionally this time. “So pretty. Best tits I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re easy,” you tease breathlessly. You try to reach for his hair, but his hands are still tight around your wrists. “Let me go. Wanna touch you.”
“Mm mm,” he hums. “So pretty pinned against the wall…”
“Perv,” you sigh as he tongues at your nipple. Scott pulls away after a moment, then begins to unbutton his shirt. You take the opportunity to shoo his hands away and do it yourself, and he smirks softly as you undo the buttons and push the shirt down his arms. Scott tugs his undershirt off, and you touch his pecs as you look him over.
You stare at him shamelessly, taking in the trail of dark hair starting at his navel and continuing down into his pants. You run your fingers along it, humming as you do.
“Like what you see?” Scott asks as he tugs you towards the bed and shoves you down onto it. Your breasts bounce and he tugs your pants down.
“Shut up,” you tell him as you wiggle out of your pants and underwear, leaving you totally nude on the bed. Scott goes to get on top of you, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Lose your pants.”
He smirks again.
“And you say I’m the bossy one,” he says as he kicks off his boots, then undoes his zipper and pushes his pants down. You bite your lip when he removes his underwear. His cock is hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip, and you spread your legs.
“You are bossy,” you say as he gets on top of you once more. Scott takes hold of his cock and guides it to your dripping entrance.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Scott breathes as he presses the tip in. You inhale sharply, clenching around him and he grunts. “She’s sucking me in, need it bad, hm?”
You give his hand a tug.
“Stop fucking talking and get in me,” you warn. “Or I can take care of this myself.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” Scott says as he pushes the rest of the way in. “We both know your vibrator won’t do the trick when the real thing’s right here.”
You hate that he’s right. You hate that he knows it.
“Fuck,” you sigh as he pushes in all the way. You hold onto his strong arms and give his biceps a squeeze. “Move, Scott.”
“I should really make you ask nicely, you know.”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles, then starts to rock his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, slowly at first then getting gradually faster. You sigh softly, brows furrowing in pleasure. Your hold on him tightens.
“Faster,” you moan quietly. Your breasts bounce with the force of Scott’s thrusts, and you moan sharply when he leans down to nip at your right boob. “Fuck, be gentle!”
“You don’t like gentle,” Scott says. “You and I both know that.”
You moan again when he sucks your nipple into his mouth and lets his teeth graze over you. Your core is soaked and hot and clenching around his cock like a vice, holding onto him like it needs him. Scott knows it, too, and you hate that he does. You hate that he has this effect on you, but the truth is that he understands you in a way no one else does.
That’s what being together for years gets you, you suppose.
Scott says something, but you’re so lost in thought that you don’t catch it. You open your eyes to meet his, which are darkened from lust.
“Huh?” you manage. He chuckles.
“I s-said you should…Fuck…Probably thank me, now.”
Your brows furrow and you roll your eyes. Of course. He wants his ego stroked.
“Why would I do that?” you ask sharply, still gripping his strong arms as he pounds you into the mattress. Each sharp, deep thrust makes his cock rub up against your g-spot, and you grunt quietly at the feeling.
“Because you’re not coming unless you do,” he says. You glare at him.
“Fuck you.”
“Go on,” Scott breathes. His thrusts are getting sloppy, which is a telltale sign that he’s getting close to his climax. “I know you can do it. Be a good girl.”
“D-Don’t fucking talk to me like that.”
Scott’s fingers find your clit, and you gasp at the feeling of him touching you. He rubs your sensitive bud in tight, skilled circles as you groan and wiggle your hips. Your pussy clenches again, squeezing him and making him grunt.
“I’m being so nice,” Scott sighs. “Gonna let you come. Just thank me for making you feel good.”
You throw your head back, teetering right on the edge of orgasm. Your body is hot and tense and ready to explode with pleasure. You cry out, lips parting.
“T-Thank you,” you manage, voice high and needy. Scott kisses you. It’s deep and wet and messy, and you moan against his mouth as you fall right over the edge. Your climax washes over you like a wave of heat, a blanket of warmth. You moan and sigh, tears welling up in your eyes as Scott reaches his own orgasm and fucks his seed deep inside of you.
“Fuck,” you breathe as his hips slow to a stop. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you catch your breath, and you loosen your grip on his biceps as he stills his hips. His lips are parted, sweat beads at his hairline, and his checks have flushed. You touch his cheek.
Scott hums, then pulls out of you.
“How was that, princess?” he asks, moving back and reaching for his underwear. You roll your eyes and sit up.
“And just like that, I’m all dried up,” you say, still catching your breath. Scott hums as he pulls his underwear and pants on. He buttons and zips them, then reaches for his undershirt. You stare shamelessly as he gets re-dressed. He pulls on his StormPar shirt and begins to button it up.
You should say something, you know that. He humiliated you, made you look like an idiot in front of Javi, but something tells you that now isn’t the time. He looks so handsome and worn-out, and something deep inside of you aches to kiss him once more before he goes.
Scott tucks his shirt in and pulls his boots on, then glances back at you as he starts towards the door.
“Get some rest,” he says. You nod, letting out a soft, tired breath.
“Yeah,” you say.
“Don’t forget to text Javi,” he says, smoothing his hair down. “He thinks you’re in hysterics.”
“Okay,” you say, reaching for your phone. Scott stares at your nude form for a few seconds longer, then reaches for the door handle. “I’ll see you,” he says, then leaves without another word.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
Author's Note: This is the first installment in my divorced Scott & Reader oneshot series! I'd like to thank @corens0ups for enabling and encouraging me to write this AU over the past few months, and @avastarred for inspiring me with her fantastic Dad!Scott series. I am so lucky :'))
Taglist: @corens0ups @brucesfavebabymama-28 @avastarred @supermanville @whydontyouputyourseatbelton @punyparkerr (Are you interested in joining one or more of my taglists? Please fill out the anonymous google form here to let me know!)
rynwritesstuff - 2026. Do not copy, steal, or repost my work.
divider by pixopix
Climactic Weather
Pairing: Scott Miller x Female Reader
Word Count: idk yet, typed right into Tumblr, but <0.5k
Content: rough oral sex (m receiving), mean!Scott but a touch of aftercare, p0rn no plot, seriously 18+ under the cut, photos just for aesthetic (reader’s looks not described in fic)
Synopsis: Down on your knees in the Oklahoma dirt, Scott teaches you a thing or two.
A/N: NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED - I have a Scott Miller brainworm and need him so bad. Shoutout to @rynwritesstuff @avastarred @corens0ups @madefrom-stardust for your delish Scott fics I’ve been reading lately. I needed to write him being mean to the reader 🧍🏻♀️
His hands are huge on either side of your head as he guides you down his length.
You gag reflexively, and your eyes begin to water.
“Mmm,” he groans. “You can’t take it all?”
You just whimper in response, mouth still full of his hard heat, as you shake your head.
“Pathetic,” he sighs, pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip over your lips. “If this pretty mouth can’t handle me, how d’you ever expect your little cunt to take me?”
“Scott, please,” you whisper, looking up at him.
“Please what?” He asks, tapping his cock against your cheek. “Please what?” His eyes darken as he looks at you on your knees in the dirt for him.
“Let me try again,” you mutter.
“You’re just gonna choke,” he says with a disappointed frown.
“So, let me learn.”
“Yeah?” He says, parting your lips again with his flushed tip. “You want me to train your throat to take it all?”
You open as wide as you can, feeling it hit the back of your mouth as he presses in harshly. You swallow around it and try not to gag. It’s so much. Too much.
“If I don’t see it right here,” he whispers to you sternly as he traces the delicate skin at the column of your throat, “then you’re not doing it right. Got it?”
You nod as he fucks your mouth - harder and rougher this time than before. You find purchase on his strong thighs and try to ignore the want pooling between your legs as the field you’ve parked in is filled with the lascivious sounds of you taking all of him down your throat.
He pulls out sharply and starts pumping his length. “Stick your tongue out,” he grunts. “Now!”
You do as he says and taste the hot salt of him in your mouth. He shudders above you and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now swallow.”
You shut your mouth and swallow his spend down with a quiet “mmm”.
“Now come on, your knees are muddy and your cheeks are tearstained. Let’s clean you up before the storm rolls in.”
The End
HOLY SHIT??? Oh my god I did not know I needed this. This was DELICIOUS — mouth is watering, legs are shaking. I loved this & can’t wait for more🤭
Dirty Little Secret - Divorced!Scott Miller x Reader
Divorced!Scott Miller x Reader
Summary: When your intuition leads you astray during a storm chase, data is lost. Scott, feeling angry and fed up, comes to your motel room afterward to show you exactly how he feels.
Tags: Scott and reader are divorced, NSFW (18+), hatefucking, unprotected pinv, creampie, dirty talk, name-calling, humiliation, Scott's happy trail (obvi), arguing, Scott is a boob guy, nipple sucking
Word Count: 3k
The rain is pitter-pattering against the car in strong, steady droplets. They dot the windshield and collect in the car’s nooks and crannies as you drive along the road. The wind is strong, and you hold the steering wheel steady against it as it whips against the side of the truck. Your brows are furrowed in concentration. You’re focused, locked the hell in, and ready for anything.
“Hit the gas. We’re falling behind,” comes a familiar voice from your right. Your grip on the wheel tightens.
“I’m right behind Javi–”
“You’re about to go uphill, hit the gas,” Scott says again. You glare at him, then press on the pedal and peel ahead down the muddy road.
“Sorry, did you wanna drive instead?”
“I wouldn’t mind it,” he says.
“We both know you’re too anxious for that.”
“I absolutely am not–”
“Shut up, you’re distracting me,” you huff, turning up the windshield wipers and adjusting yourself in the seat. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Scott shake his head and clench his jaw. “So fucking bossy,” you mutter.
“At least one of us knows what they’re doing,” Scott says casually. You smack his arm.
“Stop talking,” you tell him again. “Can’t fucking see in this rain, I don’t need you in my ear at the same time.”
He says nothing else, instead leaning forward in his seat. Suddenly, the storm up ahead seems to change course. You squint, then blink, then reach for your earpiece.
“Javi,” you say into the mic, “go left.”
“What?” Scott says. “Why would we–?”
“Go left, go left!” you say. Javi’s truck veers to the left, and your heart races in your chest. “It’s moving around. You see it, right?”
“I see it,” Javi says back.
“That’s not enough of a change to make a difference,” Scott says sharply. “You’re gonna make us lose it.”
“I’m not gonna make us do anything,” you say firmly. “I can just tell that–”
“Don’t do that,” Scott talks over you.
“--It’s gonna change course, I feel it–”
“How many times have we done this song and dance?” Scott snaps. “It works less than half the time.”
You say nothing, instead pressing on the gas to stay on Javi’s tail. Scott says your name, sharp and angry.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he says, then reaches for his earpiece.
“Don’t listen to her,” he tells Javi. You whip your head to glare at him. “It’s not moving at a sharp enough angle, the path we were on was perfect–”
“Javi, I’m serious–”
“You two need to pull it together, we’re almost on it. Which way am I going?”
“Right!”
“Left!”
Javi’s truck visibly swerves right for a moment, then suddenly goes left in the direction you suggested. Scott slams his hand against the door of the car as you follow behind Javi.
“We won’t be close enough!” he says. You stare straight ahead as you approach the storm. Javi pulls aside and gets out to drop down the radar machine. You drive along a bit further, then put the car in park and unbuckle quickly. Scott is shaking his head furiously as he gets out, too.
“What’s the matter with you!?” he shouts over the wind as you work together to drop down the radar machine. You glance at him, at his angry face, the bulging muscles in his arms, the soaked shirt clinging to his chest. He gestures behind you. Then, you turn and look back at the storm as Scott announces that Scarecrow is down to Javi.
Your stomach drops.
Damn your depth perception. Damn your gut for misguiding you. Damn Javi for listening to you.
The storm has returned to its original course, and you’re no longer in a good position for it to pass over the radar machine in an effective manner. Fuck. Fuck.
Scott is hurrying back to the car, and you curse under your breath as your cheeks get hot. Javi is talking in your earpiece, saying something about how there isn’t enough time to haul the machines back up and move ahead, that it’ll have to just collect what it collects, that whatever happens it’s okay, that you guys will have another chance. That it’s okay.
You get back into the driver seat and buckle up before pulling away to follow Javi. Scott is shaking his head again. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and when you see the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears have flushed, you clench your jaw. He’s angry. He’s pissed. He’s fucking livid.
“-- and I told you it wasn’t a good idea!” you tune back in as he talks. “You don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone but yourself, you do whatever the hell you want even if it’ll cost us.”
“I get it,” you hear yourself say, embarrassment washing over you.
“Do you? Do you really? That’s what you say every time, I’ve heard it over and over and over.”
Javi talks in the earpiece again as the storm passes. You feel hot and shaky as you drive along, as you move away from the storm and its effects. Scott mutters to himself as he looks at the small bit of data you were able to collect from today’s botched adventure. You tune him out as best you can, but you feel angry – like an exposed nerve being touched every single time Scott says something.
You pull into the parking lot of the motel as the gray clouds move overhead. Scott gets out the moment the car is parked, and he slams the door on his way as he mumbles something along the lines of today being pointless.
Fury swells in your chest, this having been the final straw after a humiliating car ride.
“Say it to my face,” you call after him, getting out of the car and fumbling for your room key. Scott pauses, glancing back at you.
“What?” he asks.
“Whatever you just said. Say it to my face,” you say as the other StormPar cars roll in. Javi approaches the two of you – you, mostly, because he knows you all too well, and he feels badly for putting you with Scott in the first place. If only he hadn’t been working with a new hire, he could’ve ridden with his partner and had him all to himself. Lucky him.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Javi says before Scott can respond. Javi puts his hand on your shoulder. “No one’s mad at you. It happens.”
You don’t take your eyes off of Scott.
“She ruined today’s chase,” Scott says, quietly enough for Javi and Javi only to hear. “Stop babying her, she’s a big girl.”
“Fuck you,” you snap, emotion swelling. Javi steps between you and Scott, blocking him from your vision. He says your name soft and kind. You look at him finally.
“Go calm down,” Javi says to you. “Take a breather.”
You open your mouth to speak, then storm towards your room, key in-hand. You hear footsteps, then Javi saying, “Leave her, man.”
You unlock the door, step inside, slam the door behind you, and lean down to untie your boots. You set them next to the door to dry, then smooth your hands over your hair as you let out a shaky breath. With trembling hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt to undo them and remove it. The talking outside your room has quieted. Five minutes have passed since you snapped at Scott, and you sniffle as you toss your StormPar shirt aside.
Knock, knock, knock.
You startle slightly, then lean up on your tip-toes to peer through the peephole. Anger roars in your gut once more. Of course Scott’s back for more.
“Go away.”
“No.”
“I’m serious,” you warn, reaching for the door handle. You swallow harshly. “I-I’m serious.”
“I know,” he says. “Let me in.”
You yank the door open suddenly, inhaling as you do. You glare at him with eyes that he could get lost in, and Scott takes a step forward.
“Back up,” you say. He doesn’t. “Back up–”
“What is your problem?” he asks.
“My problem? What is my problem? What’s your problem!?” you ask as he steps inside. You close and lock the door behind him. “You embarrassed me in front of Javi.”
“You embarrassed yourself,” Scott says, looking you over and taking in your tear-stained cheeks. “You need to get your priorities straight.”
“Is that what this is? You came here to give me a motivational speech?”
“I came here to tell you that Javi feels bad,” Scott snaps. You pause.
“What?”
“He feels bad for you. You should probably text him and tell him you’re fine.”
You huff softly. Fucking Javi. Poor, kind-hearted, well-intentioned Javi.
“Okay. I will. You can go now.”
Scott says your name, then. It’s low. Dangerous. Riddled with lust. You glance at his crotch, then scoff.
“You’re a fuckin’ freak, you know that?” you say sharply. He takes a step towards you.
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Scott says. “I know you too well.”
“Not well enough,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. When you do, your cleavage is made visible due to the low-cut tank top you’re wearing. Scott takes another step forward.
“You’re an idiot, you know,” he says. It’s got no bite behind it. Your eye twitches.
“And you’re a dick,” you say, leaning back against the wall. “You have some nerve coming in here after the way you talked to me.”
“Maybe,” Scott says, taking hold of your wrists and pinning you against the wall you’re already leaning against. “Or maybe I just know how to get you to calm down. I’m doing you a favor, really.”
“Oh, so I should be thanking you, huh?” you ask, heat blooming between your thighs as Scott’s big hands hold you.
“That’s the idea,” he says. He looks you over hungrily. You are silent for a few moments, weighing your options. You want him, there’s no doubt about that. But you’re also embarrassed, and angry, and absolutely boiling over with the desire to let him have it. You give him a challenging look.
“Make me,” you dare him. Scott smirks, then lowers his head to nip at your throat. You inhale sharply, eyes fluttering as his grip on your wrists tightens. He keeps you pinned firmly against the wall and fits his knee between your thighs.
“Mm. You’re warm,” he hums. Your hands clench into fists and you push against him. He keeps you pinned firmly, though, and presses his body against yours.
“It’s summertime,” you manage. Scott laughs at your pathetic attempt to explain away the heat radiating from you.
“Right. I suppose that’s the reason you’re humping my leg, too?”
You still your hips, which you didn’t even realize were moving in the first place.
“I’m not humping you,” you say sharply. Scott takes hold of the hem of your tank top and tugs it up over your head to reveal your breasts, which are nestled in your bra. He unclips your bra and tosses that aside too.
“Mm, lookit these,” Scott sighs, lowering his head to lip and nip at your boobs. You bite your lip and wiggle your hips against him intentionally this time. “So pretty. Best tits I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re easy,” you tease breathlessly. You try to reach for his hair, but his hands are still tight around your wrists. “Let me go. Wanna touch you.”
“Mm mm,” he hums. “So pretty pinned against the wall…”
“Perv,” you sigh as he tongues at your nipple. Scott pulls away after a moment, then begins to unbutton his shirt. You take the opportunity to shoo his hands away and do it yourself, and he smirks softly as you undo the buttons and push the shirt down his arms. Scott tugs his undershirt off, and you touch his pecs as you look him over.
You stare at him shamelessly, taking in the trail of dark hair starting at his navel and continuing down into his pants. You run your fingers along it, humming as you do.
“Like what you see?” Scott asks as he tugs you towards the bed and shoves you down onto it. Your breasts bounce and he tugs your pants down.
“Shut up,” you tell him as you wiggle out of your pants and underwear, leaving you totally nude on the bed. Scott goes to get on top of you, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Lose your pants.”
He smirks again.
“And you say I’m the bossy one,” he says as he kicks off his boots, then undoes his zipper and pushes his pants down. You bite your lip when he removes his underwear. His cock is hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip, and you spread your legs.
“You are bossy,” you say as he gets on top of you once more. Scott takes hold of his cock and guides it to your dripping entrance.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Scott breathes as he presses the tip in. You inhale sharply, clenching around him and he grunts. “She’s sucking me in, need it bad, hm?”
You give his hand a tug.
“Stop fucking talking and get in me,” you warn. “Or I can take care of this myself.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” Scott says as he pushes the rest of the way in. “We both know your vibrator won’t do the trick when the real thing’s right here.”
You hate that he’s right. You hate that he knows it.
“Fuck,” you sigh as he pushes in all the way. You hold onto his strong arms and give his biceps a squeeze. “Move, Scott.”
“I should really make you ask nicely, you know.”
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles, then starts to rock his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, slowly at first then getting gradually faster. You sigh softly, brows furrowing in pleasure. Your hold on him tightens.
“Faster,” you moan quietly. Your breasts bounce with the force of Scott’s thrusts, and you moan sharply when he leans down to nip at your right boob. “Fuck, be gentle!”
“You don’t like gentle,” Scott says. “You and I both know that.”
You moan again when he sucks your nipple into his mouth and lets his teeth graze over you. Your core is soaked and hot and clenching around his cock like a vice, holding onto him like it needs him. Scott knows it, too, and you hate that he does. You hate that he has this effect on you, but the truth is that he understands you in a way no one else does.
That’s what being together for years gets you, you suppose.
Scott says something, but you’re so lost in thought that you don’t catch it. You open your eyes to meet his, which are darkened from lust.
“Huh?” you manage. He chuckles.
“I s-said you should…Fuck…Probably thank me, now.”
Your brows furrow and you roll your eyes. Of course. He wants his ego stroked.
“Why would I do that?” you ask sharply, still gripping his strong arms as he pounds you into the mattress. Each sharp, deep thrust makes his cock rub up against your g-spot, and you grunt quietly at the feeling.
“Because you’re not coming unless you do,” he says. You glare at him.
“Fuck you.”
“Go on,” Scott breathes. His thrusts are getting sloppy, which is a telltale sign that he’s getting close to his climax. “I know you can do it. Be a good girl.”
“D-Don’t fucking talk to me like that.”
Scott’s fingers find your clit, and you gasp at the feeling of him touching you. He rubs your sensitive bud in tight, skilled circles as you groan and wiggle your hips. Your pussy clenches again, squeezing him and making him grunt.
“I’m being so nice,” Scott sighs. “Gonna let you come. Just thank me for making you feel good.”
You throw your head back, teetering right on the edge of orgasm. Your body is hot and tense and ready to explode with pleasure. You cry out, lips parting.
“T-Thank you,” you manage, voice high and needy. Scott kisses you. It’s deep and wet and messy, and you moan against his mouth as you fall right over the edge. Your climax washes over you like a wave of heat, a blanket of warmth. You moan and sigh, tears welling up in your eyes as Scott reaches his own orgasm and fucks his seed deep inside of you.
“Fuck,” you breathe as his hips slow to a stop. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you catch your breath, and you loosen your grip on his biceps as he stills his hips. His lips are parted, sweat beads at his hairline, and his checks have flushed. You touch his cheek.
Scott hums, then pulls out of you.
“How was that, princess?” he asks, moving back and reaching for his underwear. You roll your eyes and sit up.
“And just like that, I’m all dried up,” you say, still catching your breath. Scott hums as he pulls his underwear and pants on. He buttons and zips them, then reaches for his undershirt. You stare shamelessly as he gets re-dressed. He pulls on his StormPar shirt and begins to button it up.
You should say something, you know that. He humiliated you, made you look like an idiot in front of Javi, but something tells you that now isn’t the time. He looks so handsome and worn-out, and something deep inside of you aches to kiss him once more before he goes.
Scott tucks his shirt in and pulls his boots on, then glances back at you as he starts towards the door.
“Get some rest,” he says. You nod, letting out a soft, tired breath.
“Yeah,” you say.
“Don’t forget to text Javi,” he says, smoothing his hair down. “He thinks you’re in hysterics.”
“Okay,” you say, reaching for your phone. Scott stares at your nude form for a few seconds longer, then reaches for the door handle. “I’ll see you,” he says, then leaves without another word.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
Author's Note: This is the first installment in my divorced Scott & Reader oneshot series! I'd like to thank @corens0ups for enabling and encouraging me to write this AU over the past few months, and @avastarred for inspiring me with her fantastic Dad!Scott series. I am so lucky :'))
Taglist: @corens0ups @brucesfavebabymama-28 @avastarred @supermanville @whydontyouputyourseatbelton @punyparkerr (Are you interested in joining one or more of my taglists? Please fill out the anonymous google form here to let me know!)
rynwritesstuff - 2026. Do not copy, steal, or repost my work.
divider by pixopix
something big and angsty and sexy this way comes...
both my clark masterlist and my scott masterlist have been updated :) working on some new content this evening that i'm excited to share soon <33
on call — s. miller
mr argumentative part 2 — pt1
pairing: dad!scott miller x f!co-parent reader synopsis: you realise that detaching yourself from scott while pregnant may be a little harder than you think content: [18+MDNI] javi cameo, abortion mentioned in passing, arguing (pretends to be shocked), avoidant reader, pent up reader, f!masturbation, scott's annoying, slight begging, unprotected pinv (please do not expect sense from these two), fingering (reader receiving), hungry hungry hippos the two of them word count: 6.1k taglist: @she-sounds-hidieous, @dracuula98, @everydaydreamer, @wildflowersandvibranium, @clarkentluvr, @magicwithaknife, @winterschildren8, @laniec03, @peachiestevie, @snowyathena, @only-dot-nicky, @hoodharlow, @whosmev, @rynwritesstuff, @only4fun11, @kryptidfiles, @adoringanakin author's note: dad!scott. my beloved. i hope it's clear who the main enemy of progress in this co-parentuationship is. also to that anon who asked if there was a part 2 ... here u are <3 and well... part 3 pending!! anyways...if u enjoy this please leave a comment, reblog, or maybe even send an ask :) thank you! dividers by @uzmacchiato
dad!scott masterlist ☆ main masterlist ☆ join my taglist ◡̈
“I ask you to take her home, and you’re telling me you got her pregnant instead?”
You watch a muscle in Javi’s face twitch as he addresses Scott, his eyes flitting to your stomach briefly.
“Not on purpose,” Scott defends with a shrug of his shoulders. He sounds almost bored when he says it, toying with non-existent lint on his shirt.
“That makes it worse, Scott. And you,” Javi turns his disappointed gaze to you. “I thought kids were for later. I thought you were focusing on your career and having fun and…” he trails off in exasperation, glancing frustratedly between yo u and Scott.
He puts his head in his hands with all the heavy disappointment of a father who just found out his teenage daughter is pregnant, and you grimace at Scott who just shrugs.
“Please don’t tell me you’re here to invite me to a shotgun wedding,” Javi blanches, eyes wide as if the possibility just dawned on him.
“Ew, no,” you squawk, nervous laughter caught in your throat.
“What do you mean ‘ew’?” Scott asks.
“Don’t take it personally, Scott. We’re just not romantically compatible,” you shrug before stretching your arms out.
“We haven’t even been on a date, you don’t know that.”
He turns to look at you and you keep your gaze focused forward on the abstract painting hanging just behind Javi.
“All we do when we talk to each other is argue, Scott.”
“That’s not all we do,” he chuckles.
“I’m not sure if this matters to you guys, but I’m still in here.”
You swallow your smartass comment, and choose instead to explain to Javi.
“This isn’t a big deal. Just figured you shouldn’t be ambushed by this since … you know. You know both of us.”
You pick at invisible lint on your jeans.
This conversation feels too sterile, businesslike. You suppose there’s no other way for it to go, really. You and Scott weren’t together so there was no need for the misty eyes and emotional ‘congratulations’. You don’t feel bad about that at all.
“How far along are you?”
“Early. I was uh… anxious afterwards. Wanted to find out sooner rather than later so I took a pregnancy test at the earliest possible time.”
Anxious was an understatement.
The full weight of your recklessness had hit you in the middle of the next day, and you'd spent a good hour trying to reassure yourself, and then distracted yourself with shitty reality TV and sugary treats.
Just over a week later you’d bought several pregnancy tests — cheap drug store ones and the fancy early detection ones with the LCD screens — and drunk so much water you thought you might burst.
Every test came back the same.
Strong, fast positives. Undeniable.
Your only consolation was that you’d caught it before any morning sickness could catch you off-guard.
“Too late to …” Javi makes a yanking motion and you sigh.
“I considered it.”
And you had. Endlessly. Almost booked an appointment too then chickened out at the last minute.
“Don’t tell me Scott talked you into keeping it,” Javi starts, already training a glare on Scott.
“Please, he’s not that persuasive.”
“Okay, I’ll have you know she sprung this on me too,” Scott defends, agitation clear in his voice.
“So you’re just… choosing to have the baby.”
“You sound confused,” you say.
“I thought you said you wanted to be in a proper relationship before you even considered a child.”
“I’m stable. Good job, a house with a spare room for the child once I get my work shit out of there. Mom and Dad will be thrilled, they’ve been asking me about kids for years,” you explain. “I’m good. A little scared, but good.”
“And I’ll be here too,” Scott chimes in.
“Sure,” you flash him a small smile, then return to analysing Javi’s painting.
“So no shotgun wedding but you guys are making a relationship work?”
“God no,” you scoff before Scott can say anything. You see him startle slightly in your periphery but you ignore it. “We don’t need to date just because I’m pregnant. We’ll co-parent. We can manage that can’t we Scott?”
You watch Scott swallow whatever he was going to say before and just nod in sullen agreement.
“Perfect,” you stand up. “Now that that’s done, I can get home.”
The jingle of Scott’s keys echos through the room as he stands up too.
“Don’t look so confused. You don’t have a car. It’s the least I can do.”
He has the type of look on his face that lets you know it’s not up for discussion, so you hug Javi goodbye and settle in for what you’re sure will be the most awkward ride of your life.
“I should probably get a car huh,” you joke after an eternal five minutes of silence.
“Probably. How the fuck do you live in Oklahoma without a car?”
“Carpool and Lyft. Sometimes the buses run on time too,” you shrug.
Silence falls again as you toy with the window switch and rack your brain for something to say.
“Have you eaten yet?”
Your stomach answers for you with an embarrassing gurgle.
“I’ve got leftovers at home, I’ll manage.”
“I’m hungry too. Let’s just grab dinner,” Scott says, already keying in a new address.
“You haven’t even asked me what I want.”
“You want leftovers. I don’t trust you to pick a place.”
You snort, but you don’t argue, just listen to the weather report as it drones on.
He takes you to a small diner smack bang in the middle of a dying or possibly already dead strip mall.
Big Joe’s is flickering above the windows in quickly fizzling neon, and the Christmas window paint is peeling but the place is packed.
“Swear by it. Best place I’ve been to since I moved to this godforsaken state,” Scott mumbles as he kills the engine.
“Hey. Oklahoma’s charming,” you defend as you slam the door.
“Careful,” he tuts.
“Sorry,” you smile as you trail behind him.
It’s bigger than it looks from outside, and a bubbly waitress with confusingly tropical nails guides you to a booth tucked away in the corner.
“It’s cute,” you muse, looking at the records on the wall and the defunct jukebox tucked away in a corner.
“Food’s good too.”
His knee is pressed into yours, his hand on your thigh while he pores over your menu with you. You’re laser focused, trying to ignore the fact that you can literally feel the heat radiating off him.
“You know, maybe Javi’s right. Maybe we should try.”
He’s cutting into your burger for you.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking it’s cooked all the way through. Did you hear me?”
“Heard you, Scott. We don’t have to. I promise you, I’m not gonna think any lesser of you if we just co-parent,” you shrug, bringing your plate back in front of you. “Seriously. You’re sticking around, two parents are better than one, we don’t need to make this more complicated.”
“You think dating’s complicated?”
“I think dating a man I don’t have much in common with just because I’m pregnant with his kid is complicated.”
“You don’t know that. We might have a lot in common,” he argues between bites of his own burger.
“Like?”
“Career driven people. We know Javi,” he offers. “Both hard-headed, organised people.”
“I’m not hard-headed.”
“I’m sure you believe that.”
String covers of pop songs play over the speakers as more customers file in, children with their parents, people obviously on dates.
“Am I even your type Scott?”
You lean back, arms crossed while he stares you down. You hate admitting it, but he looks good. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to expose strong forearms. Smells good too, something simple but earthy.
“I don’t have a type.”
“What was your last ex like?”
“Pretty woman,” he scoffs at the way you roll your eyes. “Smart. Sweet, not quite as mouthy as you. Didn’t argue with me all the time.”
“See. Not compatible,” you motion between the two of you, shifting slightly so you can put some space between you. He follows.
“I don’t mind a little argument every now and then. I’m a big boy,” he winks.
“Okay what’s my favourite colour then?”
“Jesus, how old are we? You ask this on dates?”
“No. But this isn’t a date so it doesn’t matter,” you clarify for him. “Guess my favourite colour though.”
“Fucking. Green or some shit, I don’t know I can’t tell. Your favourite colour doesn’t matter, you don’t even know mine,” he counters.
“I’m not the one trying to build a case for dating,” you say. “Look, let’s table this for much much later. Focus on dinner and getting through this first trimester.”
“Fine. But we’re gonna talk about it,” he says returning to his food.
He doesn’t bring up dating again, the two of you occupied with people watching and minor arguments about what the best cuisine is. You manage to rope Scott into a game — guess what strangers are ordering, loser buys the baby’s crib — and then try to unrope him when he has a three meal lead.
“You’re the worst kind of loser,” he observes.
“You have a head start on me, you come here all the time you probably know these people.”
He lets you call it a draw, baits you into more heated discussions as the night goes on, the dinner rush dies down and customers filter out.
“We’re about to close,” your waitress comes back. “Y’all want any drinks before we do?”
“Shit. Didn’t see the time, I think we’re good. Just the bill,” Scott replies.
You’re rummaging through your bag for your purse when Scott looks at you with a confused stare.
“The hell are you looking for?”
“My wallet.”
“It’s on me,” he shrugs, flipping his wallet open and pulling out his card just as you find yours.
“We’re splitting it. Otherwise you’ll think this was a date,” you say, smiling at the waitress as she makes her way back.
“Or you could let me buy you dinner because I wanna do something nice,” he throws back.
“Scott, you have a lifetime of being nice to me ahead of you. We’re splitting dinner.”
Your waitress cuts off any argument Scott might have, and he watches with a scowl as you tap your card to the reader for your half.
You half expect him to bring it up on the ride home but he just broods, jaw set and hands gripping the wheel tightly as he navigates the quiet streets back to your home.
“Thanks, for coming to tell Javi with me, you didn’t need to do that,” you mumble awkwardly as he parks.
“You sounded nervous when you asked. And I figure it’s good practice for when we have to tell everyone else,” he shrugs as as he walks you to your front door, his hand brushing against the small of your back as you walk up your front steps.
He lingers at your door, thumbs hooked awkwardly through the loops of his jeans.
“No chance you let me in tonight?”
“No. Because then it’s actually a date,” you explain, leaning back onto your door. Scott just leans in, too close for comfort but with nowhere else to go you face him head on.
“How is it a date if you made me split the bill?”
“Twenty-first century, asshole. I split with all my dates.”
You take the opportunity to unlock your door and cross over the threshold into safety when Scott stumbles back a little in confusion.
“Those aren’t dates. That’s grabbing dinner with a friend.” He’s in your space again, your head spinning with just how much of your door frame he’s taking up.
“If you’re fucking fifty. This is how I do it. It means I don’t owe anything at the end of the night,” you gesture pointedly to the space between you.
“Well duh, you don’t need to fuck someone because they fed you, but why does that mean you need to split the bill? ”
“It’s polite,” you counter, “lets someone know you’re not just using them for a free meal?”
“On the second date sure. Not on the first.” He’s actually in your house now, planted firmly on the welcome mat. “And besides, you don’t strike me as the type of woman who only fucks men who take her out for dinner. I’m here, you’re hot. May as well.”
There’s a traitorous part of your brain that concedes that he has a point. You didn’t need to be together, but it’s a slope that’s too slippery for you to even consider going down.
“No.” You press a firm hand to his chest and try to ignore the traitorous tug in your stomach when you feel the firm muscle, flash back to his skin under your palms while he ploughed into you. “If we start sleeping together it gets messy, Scott. Thank you for the ride, thank you for dinner. You need to go home.”
He mulls this over, then shrugs.
“Tight programme.”
His lips twitch.
“Don’t. Go home.”
“I’ll see you around. You have my personal.”
You exhale in relief, hand over hammering heart when he pulls out of your driveway. You could control this. You and Scott could be civilised, platonic co-parents who didn’t jump each other every time they were alone.
Except your body has other ideas.
All week all you can think about is Scott. His hand on the small of your back. His knee brushing against yours in the diner. The agitated set of his jaw when you’d quibbled with him over the bill. His hands on the steering wheel. His hands on you.
Every attempt to banish Scott from your mind is futile. It’s not easy when the man in question texts you almost daily. It’s mostly links with pregnancy diet plans, questions about how you’re doing, how you’re feeling.
All innocent things but there’s something about the way he cares that has you spiralling. The thought of cool, collected Scott clicking through forums and women’s health websites to find you resources makes you wonder what else he’ll do for you.
You work yourself up, debating the pros and cons of calling him up, asking him to come over just one more time before you guys really have to keep it clean.
PROS: good sex, good orgasm, no more unwanted flashbacks. CONS: Scott smiling, Scott being right, more flashback fodder for your increasingly primal brain.
You decide to phone a friend for this one.
“Sounds like you should call him,” your friend Lucy says. “You hooked up with a guy, he’s a bit of an asshole, but the sex was so good you let him fuck you again like a month later, and now you’re playing hard to get? Am I missing something?”
You debate telling her about the pregnancy, but decide against it.
“No,” you sigh. “I just don’t want him to win.”
“You’ve gotta be shitting me, hold on.” You hear her car door slam shut, the sound of the wind muffled immediately. “You’re horny. All you can think about is this guy. But you won’t call him because — and let me just make sure I understand— you don’t want him to win. What the fuck are you talking about? Win what??”
“I don’t want him to know that he’s got me worked up.”
Or that he was right about the pregnancy making you feel feral.
“I’m not following.”
“He’s annoying. And fucking smug. And if I call him he’ll show up at my house with his stupid freckles and stupid dimples and fucking stupid gorgeous smile and dumb blue eyes smirking and being smug and calling me stubborn,” you explain. You can feel your eye twitching already imagining him darkening your doorstep with that ‘I told you so,’ smirk bright as day on his face.
“Okay he can’t be that bad. He’s Javi’s friend right? Javi wouldn’t keep an asshole around.”
“Javi’s business partner which is another reason I can’t call him.”
“The business partner thing didn’t stop you before so…” you can see her rolling her eyes.
“Okay it’s stopping me now. I can’t just give in. You don’t know how annoying he is. He has to be right all the time, and he’s always baiting me into arguments and do you know he called me an honorary lawyer? Code word for bitch by the way. There’s something wrong with him and I don’t want him in me anymore.”
“Sounds like you do want him in you though. Just my professional opinion. It also sounds like you met someone exactly like you and now you don’t know what to do.”
You try not to bristle at the tail end of her statement.
“You’re not helping.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. Since getting on the phone with me, you’ve called him hot several times. You said, and I quote ‘Luce, you should see his arms, he’s so fucking hot it’s not fair he’s an asshole’ and now you want me to believe you care about the business partner thing? Just fuck him. As many times as you need to get it out of your system.”
“I should’ve called Cate.”
“Cate would’ve asked for his picture. And a number, which despite the way you’re talking I don’t think you’d wanna give to her.”
You sigh.
“Babe, look. Just get yourself off and see if you have the hots for him after. Maybe you’re just pent up and need like thirty minutes with a wand.”
“You’re right,” you sigh.
“I always am. And if that doesn’t work maybe you should call him.”
There’s a long pause before Lucy continues.
“It would also be great to see a picture of the guy. Just so I know exactly what you’re possibly missing out on by being so hard-headed.”
“Goodbye Lucy, drive safe,” you snort, hanging up on her mid protest.
You know Lucy’s right. Maybe you just need to get off and post-nut clarity will do the rest.
So later that night, when you’re done with reality TV and can no longer ignore the bottomless pit of need opening up in your stomach you do try.
You try everything. You rub at yourself while listening to your favourite audios, guaranteed orgasms on any other night, except they don’t do anything but leave you slick and needy and worse off than before. You try a finger, then two, then three and all it does is make you think of Scott — how filling you up isn’t a problem for him. You break out the rabbit and the only time you get close is when you imagine Scott’s voice in your ear, telling you how well you take him with his hands on the backs of your thighs while he has you folded practically in half beneath him as he ruts in you. Not even the wand helps, all it does is leave you sweaty and unsatisfied, always on the brink but never quite toppling over that satisfying threshold.
Frustrated, annoyed and no closer to an orgasm than you were when you started you lie on your bed. The sheets are damp beneath you and you try to ignore the dull throb of your clit.
Lucy’s words echo in your head and the idea crystallises. Before you can begin to tell yourself you’re wrong, you’re opening up your text conversation with Scott. Text was better. If he didn’t see it in the next fifteen minutes you could unsend it and go about your day. You deliberate. You type, delete and retype the perfect opener but everything you say reeks with the scent of a horny guy sending a desperate ‘you up?’ message.
You consider whether to call — it’s 1am and Scott currently strikes you as the type of guy who doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s sleeping — and the pull in your stomach when you think about Scott’s hands on you drive your thumb to the call button.
It rings, and rings, and rings and you’re about to hang up when he answers, a hollow yawn echoing through you speakers.
“‘Sup?”
He was asleep. You can hear it in his voice, deep and raspy and unfortunately doing nothing to solve your current dilemma.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you mumble, relieved to find you still have some shame left.
“I’m up now, so tell me what’s wrong.”
Static hums between the two of you as you mentally workshop the best way to say it.
“Still there?”
“Yeah. It’s… an uncomfortable request,” you start. When he says nothing you continue. “You know how your buddy with the pregnant girl said she was like… hornyallthetimeiguess.”
He chuckles and it sends a distinct shiver of irritability down your spine.
“Nothing’s worked for you huh,” he says. You hear the muffled sound of movement and you imagine him getting out of bed.
“How’d you know?”
“You’re way too stubborn to call me before trying to solve that particular issue yourself.”
You’re not stubborn but you’ll let him win this one. A small price to pay for what would probably be the most satisfying orgasm of your life.
“Okay, yeah. Nothing else has worked.”
You don’t mention the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him, or that when you close your eyes with your wand at the highest setting you’re hearing his voice, feeling the soft press of his hand on your stomach.
“So what’s that got to do with me?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re horny, you can’t get yourself off. Where do I come in?”
You hear the soft click of a door shutting and you roll your eyes.
“Think you know very well where you come in,” you say to an irritating snicker over on his end. “You have to grow up. Before you get here, preferably.”
“Confident.”
“I can hear the echo of your parking garage.”
“Maybe I’m getting a snack. Seeing as I was woken up by an inconsiderate woman.”
You can picture his smirk, light pink lips drawn upwards slightly. The hint of a dimple.
“Scott. Please come over.”
“See how easy that was? I’ll see you in thirty.”
He’s there in twenty two.
“I hit every green,” he shrugs when you glare at him.
“I’m not a mathematician, but the odds of that happening seem low.”
“You wanna debate traffic light probability or let me fix your little problem?”
His eyes glint in the dim light of your kitchen, his voice low as he traps you against the counter. His hand traces a slow, dangerous path down your chest, pausing over your stomach as he just stares.
“Do you want water, maybe?”
The pathetic squeak breaks him out of his trance, and he chuckles.
“Not really. No.”
He nudges your thighs open with his knee, resting it between them as he slots his lips over yours, soft only for the second it takes you to relax into him before he’s groaning into you, tongue pressing against yours.
“Fucking stubborn.” He rocks into you and when he presses into your thigh you feel your stomach lurch. “Hard the whole way here,” he mumbles between kisses, teeth pulling at your bottom lip. “Could see you. Hand between your thighs desperate,” he mutters, “what else did you try?”
His lips are by your ear, teeth tugging at your earlobe while you try to make sense of what he’s saying.
“C’mon sweets, what else did you try?”
“Why’d you need to know?”
“I’ll only help if you tell me. You use a vibrator? How many fingers before you realised you needed me?”
His fingers press between your thighs, heavy and rough while his other hand tilts your chin up so you meet his eyes.
“Tell me, fuck. Tell me what you did. You think of me?”
You let out a traitorous whine and he swears under his breath.
“You did, didn’t you? You thought of me? Thought you didn’t wanna be messy.” He kisses into your neck, hand only leaving your face so he can give your breast a good squeeze.
You break away from him, dash to the other side of the counter so at least there’s something between you that isn’t alive and pulsing.
“Stop, stop. Wait,” you pant, arms out. “We need to be careful. This is delicate.”
“Sure,” he shrugs, pulling his shirt over his head. Your head’s rushing as you take him in. Follow the hair on his chest, down down down to his happy trail, watching as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and kicks them off.
“Why would you drive here with no underwear on?”
“You called me because you were horny. I’m removing barriers to access,” he says, walking around so he can trap you against the counter again. “Your turn,” he smiles, wiggling your shirt off and letting out a low whistle as his eyes drag down your body.
“Tell me everything you did while thinking of me,” he reminds you with a soft nip at your throat.
You can feel him pulsing, leaking where he's pressed against you, rubbing slowly against you.
You don’t know whether it’s embarrassment or lust, but your tongue is heavy in your mouth as he drags his lips down your chest and takes a nipple in his mouth.
His fingers ghost over your clit and you jerk a little.
“Tell me, or I’ll stop.”
It’s like your mouth is running on a motor your brain doesn’t have the ability to shut down as you explain in long, arduous detail exactly what you’d imagined. He never stops groping at your breasts, biting at the flesh and groaning when you whimper out into the kitchen, fingers digging almost painfully into his shoulders.
“So why’d it take you so long to call, hmm?” He finally asks when he comes back up. A finger presses into your entrance. “Why’d you gotta be so goddamn difficult?”
All you can do is whimper as he slides in, nice and slow, curling his finger into you slowly.
“You’re being a jerk,” you whimper into him, forehead resting on his shoulder while he adds a second finger.
“Just curious. Like pulling teeth with you.”
You’re arching into him, the sound of his fingers in you obscenely loud in the silence of the kitchen.
“Gonna call me next time right? Not as a last resort,” he tilts your chin up so you’re looking him in the eyes again. “Or do you like it this way? You like being desperate and sloppy before you call?”
In its worst act of treason yet, you feel your body shudder, your walls closing down tight around his fingers.
“Something not quite right with you,” he mutters, pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. It’s messy, Scott matching desperation as he presses further into you. The edge of the counter digs into your lower back, and Scott’s pressed so firmly into you you can feel every pulse but it doesn’t stop the moan you let out into his mouth.
“Not enough,” you whine, bucking your hips into his fingers. Your breath catches when he bites gently into your shoulder, his hand palming roughly at your breast. “Scott, please,” you ask again. You can feel it building, properly this time but you know you need more. Need to feel him in you, every vein and ridge. You’re already dizzy at the thought of feeling yourself stretch around him, feeling the heavy pressure of his head as it pushes into that extra special spot within you.
“Okay. Okay,” he says, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch.
You watch in dazed confusion as he sits on your floor, head back against the cabinets as he grips the base of his cock.
“Tell me. Tell me how bad you want it.”
“You’re fucking joking, Scott. You’re here already. I’ve told you how bad I want it,” you whine, even as your knees bracket his hips and you lower yourself into his lap.
“Don’t be shy now. Weren’t so shy when you were waking me up for it.” Your eyes follow his hand as he pumps slowly, precum smearing along the shaft.
“You don’t have all night,” he reminds you, his other hand tightening on your hip, keeping you suspended right above him. “Go on say it. Say ‘please Scott’ say you’re sorry for being so hard-headed.”
“I’m not,” you mumble, squirming as he presses the tip into you, then pulls out.
“You are. Otherwise you wouldn’t have waited so fucking long. Just ask nicely for me sweetheart, I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
“You’re being an asshole. I’m pregnant, be nice to me.”
“This is me being nice. I got up the moment you called. Been paying real good attention to you since I got here. All I want is for you to ask me nicely.” He let’s go of himself to hold your jaw. “Say ‘please fuck me, Scotty. Sorry for being so stubborn’ easy peasy. Won’t even make you beg this time.”
It feels like you're begging and you almost regret calling him. But he’s right there. Right beneath you, aching just as badly as you are. Ready for you — and all you have to do is put your pride to the side.
Just this once.
“Please, Scotty,” you ask, grasping for him. “Please fuck me. I’m-” the words get caught in your throat but he encourages you with a smug raise of his eyebrow. “I’m sorry for being so stubborn.”
He’s not gentle, pushing up into you in one hard, satisfying thrust.
“Jesus fucking Christ! What the hell is your problem?”
It's meant to be stern, but between the breathy pitch of your voice and the way your head falls forward you know you haven't convinced him. He doesn’t even respond, no sharp quip or irritated huff, just the swift push and pull of his hips as he fucks into you, groaning in relief.
His fingers are still sticky with you as he presses them into the crease of your hips to keep you moving. Anything he does have to say is muffled when he presses his face into your chest sucking harshly at the tender flesh.
“Careful, please,”you whimper, hands on his shoulder trying to steady yourself. He nods, but he doesn’t move his head, keeps you moving firmly along his length as the sound of his skin meeting yours rings out in the silence.
“Been waiting… been waiting all week,” he finally says when he pulls his mouth off your tits, “all week for you to call. Nearly called myself,” he admits, hands squeezing your ass. “Never imagined you’d call me because you were just dying for it,” he laughs. His eyes are dark, sweat forming along his hairline.
“Not dying,” you eke out, but you know your words mean nothing when you’re so tight around him and your body is almost tingling with the need for relief.
“Feels like you are. Just so fucking, warm and wet and-” his head drops to your chest again, teeth coming down gently around your nipple. Your fingers press into his shoulder a little harder.
“See? So fucking easy. Can feel how much you like this, can’t hide from me no matter how long you pretend.”
You’re close again, but Scott’s so lost in teasing at your nipples gently that you have to slip your hand between your bodies and take care of your neglected clit yourself.
It’s pitiful really, the way you grip and pulse as you feel his tongue on your boobs but you can’t bring yourself to care that much anymore.
“There you go you’ve got it,” he encourages, “go on make yourself cum for me.”
He’s pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw, almost tender enough to distract from the fullness you feel.
“Fuck, you’re nearly there can feel it. You need me to help with that too? Can’t do it without me?”
You don’t need to look at him to see the smirk plastered across his face, and much to your dismay the cocky lilt of his voice is what gets you over, your eyes shut tight as you bury your face into the crook of his shoulder.
Blinding relief is what you feel as he helps you ride him through it, but even when you're done he doesn’t stop pressing up into you as your nerves fray from the stimulation.
“Scott, hold on,” you choke out, desperately reaching for his hands.
“Fuck, you think you’re the only one who needs to cum? Isn’t this supposed to be mutual? Or am I just dick on demand to you?”
You’re shaking your head, trying to clear the settling haze as he just keeps going.
“Is that it? Can’t let me buy you dinner but want me to haul ass to give this pretty pussy relief?”
“Scott-”
“You’re gonna let me finish right sweets? Gonna let me pump you full right here on your fucking floor?”
You nod.
“Atta girl,” he kisses into the side of your head. There’s a temporary moment of relief as he pulls out of you, but it’s short lived when he puts you on all fours and presses your cheek to the cold tile floor.
“Atta girl, just take it for me, okay,” he coaxes as he presses into you again. “Just so easy, shit, fucking gushing here.” He’s relentless, squeezing and groping at your ass as he slides you along his cock like it’s nothing to him. “There we go, just like that, that feel good to you?”
You’re nodding as much as you can with your cheek against the floor, tightening at the pressure and the feeling of his thighs on yours.
“Look at you. Little miss ‘let’s not complicate it’ leaking all over her kitchen floor,” he gives your ass a light tap, hips faltering just that little bit when you squeeze around him. He does it again, slightly harder, the echo of it shifting something in your chest. “Doesn’t feel complicated to me, though. Feels pretty simple.” He leans forward, lips pressed to the back of your neck as his hand reaches down to rest on yours stomach.
“Scott,” you whisper, desperately trying to speed him along, but he doesn’t react just hums into the sweat soaked skin at the nape of your skin.
“Baby in there. That we made,” he finally speaks, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass again. “Fuck you’re gonna be so pretty. You gonna let me take care of you when your tummy’s all round right? Just like this, right?”
You mumble something, jaw slack as he keeps kissing into your back.
“Oh god, can’t wait to feel you when you’re all full,” he chokes out, pace growing sloppy,”and these,” he practically whines as he grabs your breast again, squeezing harder. “Gonna be so full, won’t know what to do with them,” he trails off, inaudible as he presses himself into you one last time, twitching with a strangled moan.
He pulls out slowly, collapsing in a heap on the floor next to you, arms open in invitation.
“There’s something wrong with you,” you pant when your head is no longer pure static.
“Me? You’re the one who called me at 1am because you were struggling to get off.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You can’t keep using that as an excuse.”
“I’m growing an entire child. That you put in here, by the way. I’ll milk this ‘til the day I push it out,” you snort. “Besides if you can’t handle this how are you gonna handle being my delivery guy when all I want is the worst pizza invented. Or when I tell you to come over because I have excruciating back pain.”
You rest your head on his chest.
“I’m not driving thirty minutes to give you back rubs.”
“You are. Whenever I want,” you command through a yawn. “And sex. Any time,” you tack on as a joke.
“Food, back rubs, sex. I might as well just move in.”
“Funny. No.”
“I’m serious,” he rolls over to put a hand on your stomach. “Can take care of you better if I’m here with you.”
“I’m capable of taking care of myself, Scott.”
“I know, just extra hands. Keep you happy while she grows in there.”
“Could be a boy, maybe.”
“Mmm. But I want a girl. Little girl would be nice.”
You snort. It never occurred to you that he might have a preference.
“I’m serious though, about moving in.”
“We’ll talk later. I’m crusting up over here. And sleepy.”
“Guess I need to go?”
You sigh.
“You can stay. It’s late anyway,” you sigh, patting his hand.
“Not so strict after a good fucking right?”
“I will kick you out, don’t irritate me.”
“I live to irritate you though,” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get cleaned up. Mop the fucking floor. We’ll talk about my move in date later.”
He’s dragging you up before you can argue, pushing you gently towards your bathroom.
Tee, oh my GODDDDD. I finally had a moment of calm this weekend and sat down to read this. I feel the need to tell you that I went from happily eating my hot fries to sitting at the table with my jaw hanging open.
This dynamic is so delicious, I can’t even handle it. I love messy Scott. I love needy reader. I love when they come together and make something disgustingly magical. This series is my favorite work of fiction on this site, I’ll never stop looking forward to more <33 love this and you!!!
Bathroom Line (Walls of Versailles) - Clark Kent x Reader
Clark Kent x Reader
Summary: You and Clark have sex in a club bathroom.
Tags: NSFW (18+), bathroom sex, mirror sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, Clark Kent is a sweetheart, semi-public sex
Word Count: 1.6k
Taglist: @corens0ups @kryptidfiles @paperheartsdissolve @hotelslutsylvania @marvel-hiddles-stark (Are you interested in joining one or more of my taglists? Please fill out the anonymous google form here to let me know!)
There are very few things that Clark Kent wouldn’t do for you. He’s a giver at heart – kind and compassionate and ready to follow any command you may direct at him, even if you don’t mean to boss him around at all. He’s nothing if not complaint, nothing if not willing to please.
But this? This is not his scene, he’s decided.
And that’s fine! he tries to convince himself. Not everything is for him, and that’s okay. That’s part of life, part of growing and becoming and discovering. You look beautiful, though, in your little dress and heels, hair done and makeup on. You’re dancing to the music that is rumbling in Clark’s chest. He feels warm as he watches you. You’ve had a drink or two – nothing crazy, just enough to loosen you up – and Clark smiles softly as you run your hands over his chest.
“Please dance with me!?” you say over the music. Clark chuckles.
“I’m not much of a dancer!” he says. You scoff.
“C’mon! I know you’ve got it in you, Clark! Just for a bit?”
Clark sighs. You’re looking at him with those pretty eyes of yours, and you look so happy and excited by the idea of dancing with him, and how on earth could he say no to that? Clark rises from his seat and towers over you. He offers you his hand, and you clap excitedly before taking hold of it. You pull him towards the dance floor just as the song changes to something low and sexy.
You turn around so that your backside is pressed against Clark’s front, and you push your hips back against him. You hear his breath catch, and you look back at him with a smirk. His lips are parted, his curls are falling into his face. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, then offers you a smile. You hum, taking hold of his hands and guiding them to your hips.
“You can touch me,” you say, swaying to the beat of the song. Clark nods, smoothing his large hands over your hips. He leans down to kiss your shoulder, and you sigh. This is what you wanted – for him to let loose and enjoy himself. You feel Clark’s hips moving against yours, and you press your ass against his crotch. His breath catches again. You almost laugh. He’s easy sometimes – easy to tease, easy to fluster.
“You’re beautiful,” Clark says in your ear. Goosebumps rise on your arms, and you reach around to run your fingers through the hair at the base of his scalp. He leans into your touch with a quiet sigh.
“So are you,” you tell him. This makes him grin, and you marvel at the sight. You grind against him once more, and Clark’s cock twitches in his pants. You smirk softly to yourself as a wave of heat engulfs you. Arousal blooms between your thighs. God, you want him. You want him now.
Clark rocks his hips against you subtly, and you hum and rest your head back against his chest.
“Babe,” you breathe.
“Hm?”
“I need some help in the bathroom,” you tell him. Clark’s brows raise ever so slightly. The music thumps and people dance all around you. The world seems to fall away from you as you turn around to look up at your man. Clark touches your hips again, rubbing them with the pads of his thumbs.
“Help with what?” he asks gently. You unbutton the top button of his shirt.
“...You know.”
He does know. Deep down, he wants it too, though he’s too bashful to say it out loud surrounded by all of these strangers. Clark kisses you then, his plush lips working against yours. You kiss him back eagerly, touching his cheeks and shoulders as you do. You hum, feeling hot like an exposed nerve. He’s all over you before you know it, his hands roaming your body. His cheeks burn – maybe he’s embarrassed that all these people can see the two of you – and you chuckle at the feeling of them.
Clark pulls away, then grabs your head.
“Lead the way,” he whispers. You nod, then tug him through the groups of people to get to the restrooms. There isn’t a line, thankfully, and you push open the door of the family bathroom. You shove Clark inside and lock the door behind the two of you. You practically throw yourself at him the moment you’re alone. You can hear the loud, bass-driven music through the walls, but you pay it no mind. You moan into Clark’s mouth as you kiss him ravenously.
“Fuck me,” you breathe. “Need it so bad.”
Before Clark can respond, you’re pulling up your dress and bending over the counter in front of the mirror. You look at his reflection, taking in the way he exhales softly, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, the way his lips are pink and swollen from kissing. You spread your legs for him, and you watch him look you over. He’s hungry, starving for it. How long has it been since he’s had you? A week? A day? An hour? Gosh, it doesn’t matter – never has. You’re here now, and you’re looking at him like he’s some kind of god, and how can he resist you when you give him those eyes? Who is he to turn you down when you’re asking so nicely? When your legs are spread and your panties are pulled to the side?
Clark steps forward and begins to undo his belt with trembling hands. You watch him intently, a smirk on your face as he moves up behind you. Your eyes meet his in the mirror as he pulls his cock free, and you bite your lip.
“Ruin me,” you tell him. Clark leans forward and kisses your shoulder, then guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. Your breath catches when his swollen tip presses in. You’re wet, yes, but the stretch of it still makes you squirm in the best way. You grip the counter and let your head fall forward. Clark reaches around and holds your head up with a hand under your chin.
“Want you to watch, honey,” he tells you. A fresh wave of arousal crashes down over you, and you moan softly as he presses in the rest of the way. Your core flutters and clenches around him and Clark lets out a soft moan at the feeling.
“You’re so big,” you breathe. “Feels so good.”
Clark hums as he begins to rock his hips. You inhale sharply, eyes fluttering as he holds your head up with one hand and grips your hip with the other. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, but he can’t be bothered. He’s too focused on making you feel good.
“I love you,” Clark breathes, rocking his hips faster. “O-Oh, gosh…Honey…”
You gasp as your body bounces with the force of his thrusts. Your eyes flutter and your jaw drops as he pounds into you with forceful thrust after forceful thrust. You gasp and moan and sigh, the sounds filling the bathroom and echoing around you.
“I love you,” you babble. “Love you s-so much. Fuck.”
Clark’s hand moves from your hip to your throbbing clit, and you gasp when he touches it.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he breathes. A grunt in your ear. “I’ve got you.”
You nod, because you know he does. Clark Kent always takes the best care of you, always makes you feel good. Your thighs tremble as he pounds into you and rubs your clit in tight, firm circles. You let out a gasp as everything borders on too-much. It toes the line deliciously, and you let out a desperate moan as Clark grunts and sighs behind you.
“Fuck, Clark,” you moan, leaning your head back against his chest. “Fuck, fuck, I’m close, please…”
“I know,” Clark breathes. “Me, too. I-It’s alright…Let go…”
You grip the counter, everything beginning to swell as you rock your hips back against Clark. His cock is huge and hard and hot, his fingers and skilled and precise. His breath in your ear sends chills down your back, and his grunts make your core even wetter.
Suddenly, everything crashes down around you. You reach your orgasm without warning, and you gasp as your eyebrows furrow. You grip Clark’s wrist where he holds your head up, and you stare at him in the mirror as he reaches his own climax. His face contorts into an expression of pleasure and relief as he spills his massive load deep inside of you. You moan at the sight of him.
“There we go,” you breathe, nodding as you reach around to touch his hair. “So good, Clark.”
Clark’s hips rock forward and back a few more times as he fills you with his seed. You clench around him, and he moans softly. You smirk at the sound. He pulls out of you and tucks himself back into his pants as you adjust your panties and push your dress down. Your cheeks are hot with arousal.
“You’re so handsome,” you breathe as you watch him. Clark smiles, then kisses your cheek.
“And you’re so beautiful.”
You turn around and lean up to kiss him firmly. He kisses you back with fervor and touches your cheek gently. You lean into his touch.
“I want another drink,” you tell him. He smiles.
“Yes, ma’am.”
You step towards the bathroom door and unlock it, only to find that a line has formed. You try to hide your smile as you and Clark step out with your heads down and your faces hot.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
rynwritesstuff - 2026. Do not copy, steal, or repost my work.
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Taglist Information
Hi, besties! Happy Superman Day! To celebrate today, I will be posting a oneshot before the day is done :)
In other news, I have decided to steal @corens0ups's idea and make an anonymous google form for folks who would like to be on any of my taglists! You can find the link to this google form here.
Even if you have previously asked to be on my taglist, I would still appreciate you filling out the google form, just so I can keep everything in one concise location :)
Before you sign up to be on my taglist, please keep in mind that if your blog is blank/nameless/ageless/etc., I will not be tagging you in my works. I check every blog before I tag them. Please also remember that I am a busy individual. If I happen to not tag you even after you've filled out the google form, simply shoot me a message or an ask :)
Keep an eye out for that Superman oneshot later today ;)
Love you guys!
xoxo Ryn
Bumping this Taglist Info for those who missed it! If you'd like to be added to one or more of my taglists, please fill out the completely anonymous form linked here
omg i missed your writing soo much ! what a wonderful new fic you posted i loveeeed it. sooo incredibly erotic and captivating 🙈💘💘
Omg thank you, my lovely anon! I wanted to throw something together for Superman Day yesterday, I'm glad you guys seemed to enjoy it!! <3 Sending so much love your way, your messages always make me feel excited to create some more!!
