sylvie🍰

“𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?” . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. -𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭-

[sylviedoesntexist]

♱intro!♱

22

i like to think that im pretty cool!

started blog in april of 2026

stuff i like

dc

cillian murphy

atla

undertale

fiona apple

breaking bad

death note

twilight

smallville

deltarune

star wars

gravity falls

peaky blinders

other socials

tiktok - likely.bitten

insta - xxsylvie.jpg

airbuds - pancakegrandpa

moots?👀

[sylviedoesntexist]

ive got a sick feeling mosely might convert tommy to facism in late season five of peaky blinders. people who have finished the show please tell me this feeling is wrong.

[sylviedoesntexist]

“heads you can have the yard. tails, i fuck your daughter.”

upon waking up one morning, you find your house empty, save for the gangster in your kitchen, tommy shelby.

nsfw, loving in bed but kind of a jerk out of it, p in v, smut, porn with plot, lots of writing before the smut starts so slowburn?

author’s note: this is based on season 4 episode 2 when aberama tries buying charlie’s yard, except he takes tommy up on his wager instead of turning it down.

also, i’m thinking about writing a jonathan crane fic next. i just found the voice lines from cillian murphy voicing him in the batman begins video game and AGGHH i have to write for him.

i love tommys old man glasses

———————————————————————

you got out of bed, combed your hair and brushed your teeth as if it were any other day. nothing special.

you went along down the hall, expecting to see your sisters, your father, someone. but when you got to the kitchen you had stopped in your tracks. a man sitting at the dining table reading the paper, who was indeed not your father.

he looked noticeably older than you, with sharp features and a sharper gaze. intensely blue eyes that lifted from the paper and looked at you from behind round lenses. the sunlight drifted from the window, scattering its golden hues on the tile, touching everything in its wake but him. the sunlight seemed to scream away from him, like ants to a poison trap, like oil to water. two things that just don’t mix well.

thomas shelby.

you had seen the man before at a pub, when you had been on a night out with your girls. he had been so chivalrous, quiet and intimidating, but albeit chivalrous. you had attempted to pick him up as a matter of fact.

“you busy tonight?” were the clever words you chose. to which he responded with a glance beneath his hat and a brief silence.

“ah, yes i am. with my wife, miss gold.”

you had wanted to crawl into a hole and die, ashamed you hadn’t noticed the band that adorned his left ring finger.

you hadn’t seen him since.

what was he doing here? you had heard tales of the shelby men and the peaky blinders. they were cruel, brutal. killing and taking whenever they pleased.

he noticed your entry, took off his glasses and stood. padding over to you with steps that you could practically feel thudding in your heart. your heart. god, it was racing. out of fear? maybe. but you couldn’t think. not when he leaned down to look at you.

“y/n.” he spoke in a voice smoother than any whiskey you’d ever had, slipping down your ears and burning into your mind in a much similar way to the first time you had the amber liquid, burning and stinging in its unfamiliarity. you felt your knees go weak. with all the strength you could summon you whispered to thomas, “where’s my family?”

his eyes flickered around your face, and he stood up again, crossing his arms. “they’re safe. don’t worry.” you remained quiet for another moment. “what’s happening here, mister shelby?” he turned around, padding over to a china cabinet that used to be your mother’s before her death. “call me tommy, y/n. i told you, everyone’s safe. calm down.”

“well what on earth do you want with me?”

————————————————————

tommy stood before these men at charlie’s yard, men in which he hired to take out one of the italians at his throat. aberama gold, a brilliant hitman, his crew too. but with his brilliance came an ego…

he stood, cocky and grinning, “how much for the yard?” he raised a brow. tommy and arthur remained stoic. “it’s not for sale, mister gold.” tommy replied coolly, reaching in his pocket for a smoke. “i think i’ll take it anyway. consider it a part of the deal.” tommy lit his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke, almost wanting to laugh at abbie’s words. “this yard has been in the family since we’ve settled.”

abbie paused. there was a silence. then tommy’s voice boomed out, “charlie!”

ah, charlie strong. as loyal as he was hardworking. a right ol’ geezer who ran the yard well, a man tommy had known all his life. charlie came running in past the crates, standing a few feet apart from aberama’s crew. the small heath fog hung heavy around the men as the situation developed in its silence.

“i’ll tell you what, mister gold.” tommy reached in his coat, and out came a coin between his calloused pointer and thumb. “we’ll leave this to chance. we flip for the yard.”

aberama chuckled. and tommy continued, ignoring the gesture of disinterest. “heads, you can have the yard. tails..”

“i fuck your daughter.”

aberama paused, his grin suddenly gone. “i hear you have three daughters, mr. gold. i hear y/n’s the oldest, and the prettiest. i’ll have her.” he stayed quiet, clearly mulling the options.

tommy tossed abbie the coin, and he caught it with a steady hand. “you do the tossing.” in aberama’s moment of fear and uncertainty, he sighed, placed the coin on his thumb and into the air it went.

time seemed to slow as the men watched the coin fly. up and up, spinning, and then down and down again, back onto aberama’s hand. he flipped it on the back of his other hand and looked at it, staying silent for a moment when,

“damn you, shelby.”

————————————————————

“well what on earth do you want with me?” silence. “tommy?” you added sarcastically. “watch your tone, love.” he spoke, unbothered. you sighed as he took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. “father doesn’t like people smoking in the house.”

“well your father isn’t here is he?” he raised an eyebrow, turning to face you again. he walked back over to the kitchen, sitting at the table. you remained standing at the entrance to the hallway, but found yourself walking over immediately when he gestured you to follow him.

you walked over and sat across from him at the breakfast nook, feeling exposed by his gaze. chilling blue eyes staring you down, as if they unraveled every part of you by doing nothing more than looking.

“i’m here because your father lost a bet, y/n. would you like to know about the terms of this bet?” you nodded immediately. “yes, i’d like to know why a dangerous gangster is in my house at nine in the morning.” he gave a humorless chuckle, unamused and stoic.

“he wanted charlie strong’s yard. now, you know charlie strong, eh girl?”

“yes, i do. i pass it on walks sometimes, across the bank.”

“right. so you should know that charlie’s yard is important to me. especially when your father tried to purchase it from me. and that cocky bastard, he demanded the yard be his upon me rejecting the idea. proposed it become a part of our, recent deal.” he spoke very quickly, softly and rather smooth, just like before.

after a brief silence you spoke. “that’s atrocious, i’m sure my father wouldn’t be so daring as to demand anything belonging to a shelby.” you chuckled.

he shakes his head. “you underestimate your father. even the most daring of men sometimes lack in cunning. so, to ease him, i suggested, a coin toss.” silence. “coin tossing?” you asked.

“yes, a coin toss.”

he reached in his coat and pulled out the very coin, the worn silver resting in his fingers. “heads,” he turned the coin, the side in question facing you. “he gets charlie’s yard. tails,” he turns it in his fingers again. “i fuck his daughter.”

silence. you couldn’t think. fuck, how could your father ever agree to such a thing?

“do you know what face the coin landed on, miss gold?”

a chuckle left your lips. unlike yours from before, now, more like tommy’s. stoic and stone. “i thought you were married.”

he curled his fingers around the coin, clutching it in his palm. “my wife is dead.”

and again, silence.

“i-i’m sorry… i didn’t know.”

“it’s okay, y/n. not your fault.” he hesitated. “but that night, i had a close eye on you. i wanted you safe and you got the wrong message.” he raised an eyebrow. “a young woman like you has no business in an establishment such as the garrison.”

you stayed quiet for a moment. “i know, i don’t frequent the pub very often, that was a one time event-“

“hey, it’s all right. no need to worry. but you know what’s gonna happen by the time i leave this house, don’t you?”

you paused, retreating into your own mind now. from the very start you had wanted tommy. in your mind he was already so far in the past, given how you had never again spoken to him after the garrison given his marital status.

one part of you was excited by the idea, the strange proposition he made with your father that assured you he too had wanted you in some way.

but then there was another part of you who was utterly repulsed by the idea of being thought of as a business transaction, something that was gambled over in a shipyard.

you felt that second part had logic, but it lacked something the first one didn’t.

the second one wouldn’t result in feeling tommy shelby’s hands on you, his soft breathing and his hips rocking deep against yours. a connection you both had craved with the other for so long.

you looked down at the wood of the table in front of you. as much as you hated the thought, if you said no tommy would probably do it anyway. he was a murderer, a brutal gangster.

you lifted your gaze to meet his, finding his icy gaze never left your face. you gave a nod.

“yes, i know.”

————————————————————

“t-tommy…”

you whispered against his lips as he laid you down, one of his large hands already palming your tit through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

“it’s alright, love…” his voice once again reminded you of the smoothness of whiskey, the burn now lingering in your ears pleasantly, and sinking down to pool low in your gut as his lips moved against yours.

his hand moved from your breast to your waist, tugging lightly at the nightgown you wore as he moved his other hand to the same position. his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, eliciting a moan from your own throat as your lips parted and your tongues met.

he began to bunch up the fabric of your nightgown, slowly pulling it up your body. you broke your kiss for him to pull it off over your head. he let out a low groan as his eyes landed on your bare chest, leaning in and taking you nipple in his mouth while he palmed the other one.

you sighed at his touch, followed by a whimper that embarrassed you deeply. but you could feel his flashed smirk against your tit. he lifted his head and rested his chin on your chest to look up at you as he shrugged off his coat and threw it aside. your hands lifted to unbutton his white undershirt hastily, fumbling with the fabric.

he let out a low chuckle and brought his hands to do the unbuttoning, quicker and more fluidly. you gave a sheepish laugh, cut off as his lips were back on yours, but for only a moment until you took the white shirt completely off. you traced your fingers over the sunbeam tattoo on his pec, feeling the hardness of his skin as he leaned over you again, his muscular arms taking your wrists and putting them over your head.

he looked down at your face for a moment, eyes running over your features, intently scanning. this moment felt separate. you could’ve forgotten about everything else, even the bareness of you both as your eyes gazed into his cold ones. but right now, they felt anything but.

“y/n…” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

he let go of your wrists with one hand, still keeping them pinned with the other as his now free one trailed down your body, pausing to run his thumb over your hipbone, stilling as his other hand palmed the plushness of your thigh with a low groan from him.

the hand on your hip lowered and hooked into the fabric of your underwear, and pulled them down your thighs.

you helped kick them off and he leaned back to pick them up, lifting them to his nose for a moment and letting out a low groan, but not before pocketing them.

you bit back a smile, and he returned it.

“what’s so amusing, love? hm?”

he leaned back over your body and spoke in your ear, making you laugh gently.

“oh, nothing.” you answered, turning your head so he looked at your face and not the side of your head.

he gave another one of his low smooth laughs as he pulled his trousers down, discarding them and pressing his hips flush to yours, the thin fabric of his boxers being the only thing separating you.

your eyes wandered his face as you reached out, thumb slipping beneath the waistband and pulling them down. you leaned in and kissed him softly as he kicked them off and lined his cock with your entrance.

it burned slightly as he sank in partially due to the lack of prep, making you gasp against his lips. he stilled, inside only just past the tip. he reached down to palm your tits again, hoping it could serve as some distraction to the burn of him stretching you.

he continued to sink in, breaking the kiss once he had bottomed out. your breathing was already slightly labored by now, feeling like you could just cum with him above you like this.

“agh…” he moaned out at his first slow thrust, making your breath catch in your throat. the burn had simmered out mostly by now, and began to fade into blinding pleasure even from his small thrusts.

he was so careful it made your heart ache, and your clit even more. you could tell he tried his hardest to be gentle with you but you didn’t want him to hold back. you ran a hand through his hair, sighing in ecstasy as you moved his head directly in front of you. your eyes locked and he stilled inside you.

you kissed his cheek gently, and then his lips. soft and gentle. your message must’ve gotten across because he once again began to move, his hands sliding to hold your hips.

he let out a pitchy sound against your lips that sent a wave of dizzying need through you, moaning and biting harshly on your lip as he moved faster.

he tugged on your lip with his thumb, giving a subtle shake of his head. he cursed under his breath, his head falling forward on your shoulder while he moved faster.

you gasped out, feeling the head of his cock brush against a spot in you that made you see stars. you clawed at his hair, whining shamelessly.

“please, tommy… i-i can’t… can’t take it!”

you were forced to speak in gasps between moans, barely able to hear yourself over tommy’s rhythmic grunts. “s-sure you can love… fuck, almost there sweetheart, s’ perfect…” his smoother than whiskey voice sank deep in your ears, making you whine sharply.

well, maybe it was his hand now rubbing your clit in tight circles.

but as that rumble of his voice sank down your ears it went lower, lower, suddenly very aware of the arousal in your gut getting tighter, and tighter.

and tommy felt it too. you could tell by the way he fucking whimpered over you, ramming into you with each thrust.

and then, tighter, and it snapped, the white hot orgasm crashing over you and simmering throughout your body in immeasurable pleasure. you cried his name, back arching as he groaned.

“fuck. fuck. fuck fuck fuck.” was all tommy could think, stilling his hips and removing his hand, grinding against your hips and pushing himself impossibly deeper until he whined your name, twitching as he came

you gasped as he filled you, your hands tightening their grip in his hair, whispering his name like a mantra.

he gently kissed the words off your lips, making them fade into a satisfied hum. when he broke away he cupped your face.

you two stayed like that for what felt like quite some time, you gazing into those cornflower blue eyes as if there was nothing else. but in those eyes something changed, like a switch had been instantly flipped.

he pulled out, showing no care as you winced. he then stood, and dressed himself and left you laying on the bed fucked out and confused.

as he pulled on his coat, he sighed and turned around. he saw your confusion and hurt, wanting to roll his eyes and turn, but couldn’t. he gave you a curt nod.

“well, i suppose i’ll see you around if your father ever tries buying any more of my shipyards.”

he spoke in an attempt to joke, but all you could manage in response was a distant nod. “ah, yeah… see you.” you spoke in a drone, running a hand through your hair.

if you knew any better you would think he felt bad for you, judging by that last glance he gave you as he turned on his heel, and left.

“tell your father i say hello!”

he had called from the foyer. and that, indeed did make you fall back on your bed with a giggle, kicking your feet in the air.

————————————————————————

later you showered and tidied, awaiting the return of your family from wherever tommy had sent them while you two were busy.

and upon entering the dining room, you found something on the breakfast nook.

a small card, labeled “shelby company limited”, with the business number and address scratched out, a personal one being written in hand just beneath the name “thomas shelby, CEO”, alongside a pair of circular lensed and wire rimmed glasses that sat undisturbed on the table.

a smile tugged at your lips.

(okay i have no idea what this is im really embarrassed to post it)

[coquettemeth]

[gothamgraveyard]

Summary: You're messing around with both Jason and Tim, refusing to commit. Dick corners you about it, asking you to pick him. He's sick of feeling like you love everyone but him. You're messing with his head.

TW: Cheating, fwbs, comitment issues, sex mentioned, messy relationships.

Part 2, Part 3

The logistics of dating a Wayne, or more accurately, circulating through the Wayne ecosystem required a spreadsheet that you simply did not have the organizational skills to maintain.

You hadn’t meant to. Well, that was a lie. You had absolutely meant to, but you hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. You were sitting on the edge of his desk in the Nest, the neon green light of his monitors casting shadow across your face. Tim was staring at a line of code, his eyes bloodshot, a half-empty mug of something that smelled like burnt rubber and espresso clutched in his hand.

"Timmy," you said, reaching out to twirl a strand of his wildly overgrown hair around your finger. "You're leg's bouncing pretty hard. Literally. I can feel the desk shaking."

"I'm fine," he muttered, though he didn’t pull away from your touch. In fact, he leaned into it slightly, like a plant tracking the sun. "I just need to finish this routing protocol before Bruce gets back from Berlin."

"Counter-proposal," you whispered, leaning down so your breath brushed his ear. You reached past him, your forearm pressing deliberately against his shoulder, and hit the power button on his main monitor.

The screen went black.

Tim froze. For a second, you thought he might actually code-blue right there in his chair. Then he turned his head to look at you with desperation.

"You're a demon," he argued.

"I'm a delight," you corrected, sliding off the desk and directly onto his lap. He caught you by the waist out of pure reflex, his hands digging into your hips. You reached into the collar of his shirt, your fingers tracing his collarbone, feeling his pulse leaping like a trapped bird. "And you need to sleep. Or, at least, do something that doesn't involve a keyboard..." you trailed off suggestively.

When you kissed him, it was messy. He made a ridiculously desperate sound when you pulled him closer by his belt loops. You left him twenty minutes later, all flushed, dazed, and completely incapable of remembering his own passwords. Mission accomplished.

The problem was that Jason found out by Friday.

Jason didn't do "subtle" which was ironic considering you had the worst on and off since Bruce and Selina. When Jason was pissed, the entire zip code knew about it.

You were walking back to your apartment through a particularly sketchy alley in Crime Alley (mostly because you would rather take that shortcut than get in public transport) when a heavy weight dropped from the fire escape right in front of you.

"We need to talk," Jason growled. He didn't have the helmet on, just the domino mask. He looked massive, very pissed off you wondered why, and entirely too attractive for someone who spent his nights punching people in the face.

"Jay!" you chirped, stepping right into his space. "Did you bring me those kiwi tarts from the place on 5th?" If not, you were okay with getting dicked down by Jason Todd either way.

Jason put a hand flat against your chest, stopping you in your tracks. His palm was warm, even through his glove. "Don't play cute. What the hell were you doing in Drake’s safehouse on Wednesday?"

"Helping him with his… data entry," you said innocently.

Jason’s jaw clenched so hard you heard the click. He stepped forward, forcing you back until your spine hit the brick wall of the alley. he crowded you, his chest pressing against yours, trapping you entirely within his shadow. He smelled like leather, and that expensive cologne Dick had clearly bought him for Christmas that he pretended to hate.

"Data entry," Jason echoed. He leaned down, his nose brushing against yours, his breath hot. "Is that what we're calling fucking my brother now? Because last week, you were in my kitchen, wearing my t-shirt, telling me nobody else knew how to handle you."

"You do know how to handle me, Jay," you murmured, reaching up to grip the lapels of his jacket, pulling him down that extra inch. "You're so… loud about it. I love it, love you" you said casually, but it meant everything to him.

He swore under his breath, and then his mouth was on yours. It wasn't nearly as gentle as Tim had been with you. Jason kissed like hell. He hooked a leg behind your knee, pulling you flush against his thigh, his hands gripping your hair so tightly it pulled you liked it too much to protest. It was angry and messy which was exactly what you wanted.

You stayed with him that night in his bed, let him think he’d won.

And then, on Sunday, you texted Tim a selfie from Jason’s bathroom, wearing nothing but one of Jason's oversized flannel shirts, with the caption 'Found your favorite coffee mug. Jay says hi.'

You knew you were pushing your luck, the Batcomputer probably had a dedicated file on your psychological warfare tactics by now. But you hadn't expected the firstborn to get involved.

You were sitting on the roof of an abandoned clock tower, eating cold Chinese food out of a cardboard container, when you felt someone behind you.

"You know, Bruce is genuinely considering putting a tracker on you," a voice said from the darkness.

You didn't even look up as Dick Grayson stepped out of the shadows. He wasn't in uniform, not completely. He had the tactical pants on, the heavy boots, but he was wearing a tight black compression shirt instead of the full Nightwing suit. His jacket was swung over one shoulder. He looked infuriatingly relaxed.

"Bruce won't put a tracker on me," you said, taking a bite of a crab rangoon. "He's too afraid I'll find a way to stick it on Clark instead."

Dick laughed a little as he walked over and stood right over you, blocking out the light from the Gotham moon. "Probably. But that doesn't mean you get a free pass for what you're doing."

"And what am I doing, Grayson?"

"You're running a demolition derby through my family," Dick said. He dropped his jacket to the gravel and knelt down in front of you, bringing himself eye-to-eye with you. Up close, the ridiculous symmetry of his face was offensive. He looked tired, but under the fatigue there was a sharp intensity that he usually kept hidden behind his golden-retriever smile. "Jason hasn't slept in three days because he's too busy pacing his floor trying to figure out if you're doing that thing with your tongue on Tim too, and Tim spent six hours yesterday trying to hack into Jason's security cameras to see if you actually enjoyed him."

"They're men, Dick. They like to compete," you said, offering him a dumpling.

Dick didn't take it. Instead, he reached out with his fingers wrapping around your wrist. His grip was surprisingly gentle but still hard. He forced you to set the container down.

"It's not a game," Dick said, his voice dropping into a serious tone that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. "They're falling apart over you. And you're just sitting up here watching the fireworks."

"Are you going to tell me to stop?" you challenged, tilting your chin up. "Going to give me the big hero speech about feelings and responsibility?"

"No," Dick whispered. He leaned in closer, his blue eyes darkening in the shadows of the roof. He didn't look like the nice brother anymore. He looked like the boy who grew up in a circus, comfortable with heights and completely unafraid of a fall. "I'm not going to tell you to stop. I'm going to tell you to change targets."

You blinked, your brain momentarily stalling. "What?"

"You heard me," Dick said. He slid his hand up from your wrist, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your inner arm, his thumb pressing against the quickening pulse at your elbow. "You want to play with fire? You want someone who can actually keep up with you without crying to a therapist? Pick me."

"Dick, you're their brother," you laughed, though it sounded a little breathless. Fuck you'd bang that. "That's… incredibly messed up, even for me." It absolutely wasn't. You'd smash him anyday

"I don't care," he murmured. He leaned in until his lips were a mere fraction of an inch from yours, his breath hot and smelling faintly of mint. "I am so tired of hearing your name in the Cave. I am so tired of watching them lose their minds over you. If you want to break someone, come break me. I promise you, I'm a lot harder to shatter than they are."

He stayed there hovering in that excruciatingly tight space, his fingers tightening on your arm, his eyes locked onto yours with a terrifyingly suggestive weight.

"So," Dick whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, teasing little contact that made you ache. "Are you going to keep playing in the sandbox, or are you ready for the real thing?"

A/n: Guys part 2's js straight smut so idk if I'm writing it yet 😭

A/n #2: Here's part 2, entirely smutty

[daughter0fthewitch]

✦ ──── WHAT GRIEF WISHES FOR thomas shelby x obsessed!f!reader masterlist — taglist

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wc. 1.4 k

premise. based on this ask! Years after the war and haunted by Grace's death, Thomas crosses paths with the woman he once thought he would marry: a woman who walked away when the man she loved returned from France changed beyond recognition. When she rejects his impulsive invitation to spend the night, Thomas's grief drives him to make one desperate wish upon a silver coin gifted by an old Romani fortune teller. "I wish she'd love me... and never leave me again."

warnings. DEAD DOVE DONT EAT!!; NONCON, obsession au, supernatural happenings, canon typical violence, smut, unprotected pinv

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chapter 4 – a framed picture

The cool wood of the desk felt smooth against your skin, a contrast to the warmth spreading through you. Your violet dress was pushed up, showing your bare thighs as you were leaning over the desk, your arms resting on its edge. 

You felt him stand behind you, the floorboards creaking beneath his polished shoes, with one hand he pushed the violet silk higher, and the cotton of your panties lower.

The fabric of his expensive slacks rustled and the metal of his belt clinked as he unbuckled it. A second later the sound of his zipper, and moments later you felt a white hot pain fill you as he stretched you out. 

First you felt the head of his thick cock push against your entrance before quickly the rest of it followed, his tip pushing against your cervix. 

His hands dug into your soft flesh, spreading your out even more to allow him entrance.

Your lips parted, pushing out a sound that encouraged him.

“Fuck–” the curse escaped his lips, his voice a deep growl.

One of his hands abandoned your hip, coming to hold your head in place, firm against the cool wooden surface of his desk.

Thomas’ hips began moving into you, each thrust rough, filled with a deep need he couldn’t express.

You felt the firm muscles of his thighs against yours, his body's heat feeling both familiar and a little unsettling. He pressed you into the edge of the desk with every thrust, you felt like a ragdoll almost. 

“Oh… fuck…” he growled, his voice deep and strained, full of raw desire. Each movement became deeper and more urgent, making you gasp softly. You felt your muscles tighten, your back arching slightly with each pound.

But your mind was elsewhere, watching everything unfold as if from a distance. 

Bent over his desk, your eyes were on the framed picture on it. It showed Grace laughing, his arm around her, holding her close. 

It looked like a moment of pure happiness, a love he once had that had deeply affected him. You looked closely at how he held her and how happy he seemed with her, all while Thomas continued to thrust into your core.

It was intoxicating, this cocktail of jealousy and heat and pain and pleasure, all pushed into you with each dripping wet thrust, it had your legs shaking. 

Thomas felt your body move with his, your breaths coming in gasps, your hands holding onto the desk. 

He thought it meant you were passionate, you were loving it, with how those soft moans escaped your throat. 

But your face was blank with your eyes fixed on Thomas embracing Grace. Your lips slightly parted as you put on your show.

“Mhmmm, Tommy– ah– ah–” you made, pushing your hips back into him, as if you couldn't wait to get more of him.

Your eyes traced the couple in the picture, the easy intimacy of his arm around her waist. You studied the tilt of his head, the softness of his lips in that captured moment, the sheer, unadulterated happiness that radiated from them both. 

It made your insides hot with hate.

Thomas, lost in the urgent thrusts of his hips, was oblivious. 

He felt your hot body, the shuddering breaths you took. 

He interpreted it all as passion, as reciprocation, as the answer to the wish he had so recklessly uttered. 

He felt the slickness of your skin, the tightness of your walls clenching around him, like you were desperate for him to take you. 

He was drowning in it, in the overwhelming sensation of having you, and utterly blind to the happenings playing out mere inches from his face. 

The only sounds he heard were his own ragged breaths, your soft moans, and the obscene sound of your slickness coating him.

Thomas’ movement grew erratic as he felt you clench around him, the tightness setting off his orgasm as a wave of raw relief washed over him, leaving him breathless. 

He grunted, a deep, guttural sound, his body trembling as his rhythm faltered.

He pushed into you again, his fingers flexing into your flesh as his breath staggered.

Thomas leaned over you, his forehead resting against your back, inhaling deeply. The scent of lavender and poppy, intensified by the heat and exertion, filled his lungs. 

It was intoxicating, a fragrance that had once been a memory, now once again right before him.

“You feel… better than I remembered,” he admitted, his voice still hoarse, a raw confession of the void you had somehow begun to fill.

You leaned further against the desk, a soft sigh escaping your lips, “It was amazing,” you whispered, the words tasting like a lie, yet born of the wish, truthful in a twisted way that went against you. 

He straightened slowly, separating your bodies, before he pulled his trousers back up. 

You smoothly pulled your dress back down, the silk settling back around your hips with a soft rustle, concealing the evidence of the raw, desperate act.

Only silence remained for a brief moment, it felt unnaturally heavy. 

Thomas cleared his throat, picking up his cigarette case before he rested down into his expensive leather desk chair. 

He lit the cigarette with a practiced flick of his lighter, the small flame illuminating the sharp angles of his face for a fleeting moment. 

He inhaled deeply, then gestured towards his lap with a subtle nod. 

“Come ‘ere..” he rasped, and you moved without hesitation, settling onto his lap, your body molding against his. 

You felt your entire body burning, hot with hate and love. You felt like you were caught in the wrong body, this wasn’t you but there was equally no escape.

Everything about this felt profoundly unnatural to you. 

Thomas offered you a cigarette that you accepted, you brought it to your lips and he flicked the lighter open once again. 

The small flame danced between you for a moment, but its warm reflection didn’t reach your eyes.

You shifted ever so slightly where you sat, your body remaining comfortably close to his, before reaching for his hand once again. 

Without asking, you guided it gently onto your thigh, your own fingers resting over his as though they belonged there, your thumb absentmindedly brushing slow circles across his knuckles.

“Thomas…” your voice came quietly, almost shy, drawing his attention back to your face.

“I walked here.”, a faint smile touched your lips, “I think... about an hour.”

You lowered your eyes to your lap, still absentmindedly tracing circles over the back of his hand, before letting out the smallest breath, “I couldn't stop thinking about you after I left.”

The confession settled heavily between you, Thomas' attention was drawn back fully to you now. 

“I tried to.” you admitted, your smile almost sheepish, “I thought if I went back to where I'm staying... if I distracted myself... it would pass.”

Your smile faltered ever so slightly, “... It didn't.”

Thomas said nothing, he only watched you. 

The whiskey had softened the edges of his thoughts, but not enough to dull the strange sensation creeping beneath them. Every word you spoke was something he'd wanted to hear for years, perhaps even before Grace, before France had swallowed the better part of the man he used to be.

And yet… something about the certainty of it unsettled him.

You had walked through the cold night, alone, for over an hour, just to see him, after refusing him only a few hours earlier.

“An hour,” he repeated quietly, you looked up at him and nodded gently, “I didn't even realise how far I'd walked.”

Your answer came almost dreamily, as though the journey itself had become strangely insignificant, “I only knew I wanted to be here.”

You slightly turned your head then, your attention wandering across the desk behind him almost absentmindedly.

Your eyes settled upon the framed photograph once again, and this time Thomas noticed. 

Him.

Grace.

Your expression became unreadable for a brief moment as you simply stared at the photograph-

Then, just as absentmindedly, you looked back at Thomas. 

Your smile returned, gentle and unchanged.

“Since…” you began softly, “...I've already walked all this way…”

Your fingers closed a little tighter around his hand.

“And it's so late… could I stay tonight?” you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper, almost hesitant, “I don't really want to leave yet.”

Thomas looked at you in silence, searching your face.

“...You can stay.”

─── ꒰ 🪻 ꒱ ───

peaky blinders taglist . . .‧˚꒰📞꒱༘‧@drunkcigarettes-jpg @lucellu @hagarsays @afw5 @ourtiger04 @tsreader @jbrownta @emilycookie86 @outlanderuniverse @narlytube @lavender-haze-01 @pinknebulazephyr @sylviedoesntexist a/n: felt so sick writing this you guys dont even know...

[kentluv3r]

lying to BOXER! JASON TODD about being a virgin… so don’t be surprised when you cum so easy!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 CONTENT WARNINGS: lying about virginity, overstimulationnnn, teasing! boxer! jason todd, MINORS DNI ノ fem! virgin! reader, gentle sex, dirty talk, technical virginity loss, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, tiny bit of a strength kink!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: sorry, I’ve been on a boxer! jason todd high so muchhhhh, I just love him, sorry not sorry! this is inspired by the hot concept of men lying about being virgins and cumming prematurely but make it reader because lowkey? it’s just an excuse for jason to abuse that pussy 🫠 dare i say i have knight/medieval! jason todd in the works rn cause finn bennett as aerion targaryen awoken my soul for knight! characters.

honestly, you weren’t that much of a liar.

you didn’t like to lie— there was something weird about it. something weird about looking someone in the face and lying your ass off. you only lied a couple of times about small things; being sick, not wanting to go on a date, not wanting to hang out… simple things. not things like this.

and to be completely and utterly honest; you didn’t exactly stop lying when it came to getting into bed with jason todd.

you knew who he was— a famous boxer with too many wins to count, but you acted oblivious to his boxing resume when he first approached to you at a small diner. he found you attractive when he was eating with his big brother, dick— yes. his name is dick, doesn’t like going by richard— and dick encouraged him to approach you. so you shared your number with him and began to text him.

things fell into place and a month of talking… he invited you to one of his fights. a big boxing fight, he’s the biggest name on the card. and watching from the third row as jason knocked his opponent out in the third round… you knew damn well what was going to happen later that night.

the problem? you were not quite… experienced at sex.

you have masturbated, you have touched yourself and have used sex toys on yourself. you’ve kissed people in high school and you’ve let them touch you up… but nothing as far as that. just, it hasn’t happened naturally. it wasn’t some weird obligation thing, you weren’t saving yourself for marriage or for anyone special… it just didn’t feel right any time it came down to it, so now? as a hard working adult seeing this boxer? you knew damn well you’d have to face it.

so after celebrating jason’s win at his favorite local burger place— always feeling his rough hand on yours even as you ate, you brought him to your place… and of course, when two hot people who are very attracted to each other are alone… things get hot and steamy.

he got you over the finish line with ease the moment his mouth sucked on your clit, flicking his tongue up and down and using two of his fingers in your tight cunt to cum, eating the cum off his fingers with glee as clothes came off, hair was pulled, and jason was stroking his cock with lube (mixed with a little bit of your own cum cause how could he not?).

“jason… mhm…” you whisper, your legs already spread on the bed as your hands clasped in the bedsheets. you couldn’t lie; you were absolutely nervous.

sure, you’ve played with yourself before— you’ve stuck a dildo in your cunt a couple of times. you know what it feels like to be stretched by a silicone toy that was listed as six inches long and was about five and a half inches… but this was different.

this was a real dick, a real cock attached to a very attractive boxer that you just happened to get the attention of.

jason smiled down at you as his right hand stayed on his seven inch cock, his left hand gently stroking up and down your leg as his body keeps your legs open. “you’re pretty, baby.” he whispers, leaning down and kissing your left knee. “such a cute girl… all spread f’me…”

your face heats up internally at his compliments, it felt good to be flirted with, especially by jason with his stupidly hot voice and his demeanor. “jason, mhm…” you respond back, mentally preparing yourself for how this is gonna feel— it’s just like a dildo, the stretch and the feeling, you could handle it; of course you can!

jason lined his tip up with your folds and leaned down, kissing your lips and whispering against your lips. “if you can’t handle it, tell me sweetheart, ain’t trying to hurt you, promise.”

you nod your head, wrapping both arms around his neck. “of course, jay… now fuck me.” oh the confidence you have.

he smiles at your words and press against your cunt, his tip feeling the warmness of your cunt as you seemingly let him in with no problem. he’s slow to push into you, being oh so gentle with his hips as his left hand digs into the bed, his right hand pressed on top of your abdomen as he’s careful with his ease into you.

and fuck fuck fuck— it feels so good. it feels too good.

you could barely feel anything else besides jason stretching you with his cock— naturally, this felt different than the dildo, the skin of jason’s cock different than the silicone. he was so much better and thicker than the toy, warmer than the toy as well— everything felt overwhelming that you didn’t know if you could handle much more… and the pathetic part was that he was only three inches in, he still had four more inches to go and you already feel like this.

“jason! jason! oh fuckkkkk, jayyyy.” you moan out, fingers digging into the back of his neck, your pussy fluttering ‘round him as your toes curled in the air. “s-so good… so full… oh fuck.”

he smiles above you as he kisses your moaning lips, gently continuing his movements, taking your moans as good enough to keep moving. “good girl… taking me so fuckin’ well, bet this pussy misses being treated so good.”

yeah; my pussy has never been treated any which way, but obviously— you couldn’t fucking say that, so you just moan in response, vibrating against his skin.

you felt so warm inside, you couldn’t stop your pleasure from climbing just by him pushing into you and his lips on your skin, you just couldn’t help it. it felt too fucking good.

not knowing what to do— you couldn’t stop yourself, and with barely three thrusts in… you felt yourself slipping over the same edge that his mouth brought you over. his hips don’t sputter once, his face hidden in your neck as he pressed kisses in your neck— your eyes rolling back as your nails dug into his biceps.

it felt so fucking good, your pussy was fluttering and you felt pleasure push and flow through your veins.

jason mutters a curse as he watches you, star struck by your expression and almost surprised— he’s not mean about his expression either, he’s shocked he was able to make you cum this fast… “oh baby, you already cummed?” he questions, leaning down and pressing a kiss on your lips. “good to know i make you feel this good.”

“ah— ah! oh fuck, jay!” you moan in overstimulation, back arching off the bed and pressing your breasts against his broad chest. “ah— ‘m sorry! ‘m sorry… didn’t me-mean to.”

jason looks at you with soft eyes that even makes you tear up, leaning down and kissing your cheek. “don’t apologize f’me baby, don’t ever apologize for cumming so beautifully.” he encourages, continuing his thrusts even with your orgasm melting through you. “this pussy loves me, huh?”

your fingers digs down into his back as you whine, breathing deep as jason continues to ruin you. “jay— jay, c’can’t take it— oh fuck… oh fuck!”

“you’re taking it great baby, just hold out f’me, hun, you’ll feel good again.” he whispers, kissing your lips.

the kiss is sloppy and barely there on your side, but you try to kiss him again, heat overtaking your entire body as overstimulation slowly subsidies and suddenly feeling that same build up as last time.

you whimper against his lips as your hands both thread through his messy black hair, nails yanking on him as you feel his cock drag against your walls again, his balls slapping against your cunt.

he moans as you squeeze around him, both hands holding onto your thighs. “beautiful girl… betcha you need to cum again, huh?”

nodding your head, you bite into his shoulder, the pain of the overstimulation and the pleasure of your orgasm ruins you before you could confirm anything to him; your eyes rolling back and the scream of his name gives him the confirmation.

you just cummed again and he’s looking at you like a fucking angel on this earth.

“there you go… cum, cum all over my shit, baby.” he encourages. “lemme see this pretty face fucking wrecked for me again.”

maybe lying about your virginity to your boyfriend was the best idea ever, cause it got you fucked like this!

masterlist is here! click here for more!

ⓘ KENTLUV3R’S WORK. all my fanfics (not the characters) is my very own, coming from my own efforts and my time. do not copy my work, rewrite it, shove it through an ai machine and shit out slop, and don’t repost to wattpad/ao3/c.ai!

[daughter0fthewitch]

taglist. . .‧˚꒰📞꒱༘‧

if you would like to be tagged when new parts are posted, you may like, reblog, or comment on this post to join the taglist ♡ like / reblog (without comment): join the general taglist

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[1nsignia]

18+ mdni, bruce wayne

—————————————————————————

lol my entire blog got flagged mature labeled so lets talk about bruce wayne 

i mean bruce wayne, the same man who couldn’t keep his eyes off you outside the yacht— more specifically, the bikini you were wearing. and who could blame him? you looked ravishing in it, the color complementing your skin tone and your body glowing under the sun.

it didn’t matter how beautiful the scenery was or how blue and clear the ocean was; no view could ever compare to the one bruce had— you, on top of him with lips on his and hands running on his toned and scarred chest

yes, on a chair and still on the outer deck of the yacht, mind you

one hand left your hip to slide in the bottom part of your bikini, only to slowly trace your wet cunt with his middle finger. you moaned on his lips, feeling your arousal drip in his touch 

“look at her” bruce whispered. if your mind wasn’t clouded, you would have heard the slight teasing in his voice. “already so eager”

his lips trailed down, tasting the salty remains of the ocean on your soft skin and using his teeth to pull down your top for more. it pulled out a breathless sigh from you, nudging your cunt more to his touch as a way of asking for more

but your actions would soon be answered the moment bruce’s mouth latched onto one of your boobs, his warm tongue circling and lapping on your hard nipples while his mouth sucked and got to work— all while his finger left for his hand to push the hem of your bikini aside for your throbbing cunt to be revealed

you pulled down bruce’s swim-shorts just enough for his cock to be revealed, its length hard and tip flushed. the fact that he already had a painful boner just from you in a bikini set was almost pathetic

he let out a muffled groan on your boob, the tip rubbing on your aching core sending sensations to both you and him. it wasn’t until bruce lined himself up and slowly inserted himself in that your touch almost trembled you moaned, knocking your head back with your lips slightly parted and back arched for more. but bruce took his mouth off your boob, his hand leaving your hips to bury itself in your wet hair and gently tilt your head down to meet his gaze— blue eyes narrowed with desire 

“eyes on me, sweetheart” he murmured, shifting his other hand so his thumb could push your bikini away while his palm was rested on your hip. “let me see you” bruce continued to push more of his length in you, hearing your soft sounds leave you as he continued to coo more. “thaaat’s it, always takin’ me so well.” 

he could never get enough of the way your pussy was always so warm, so tight despite it not being your first time with him, so inviting for him and only him. it was a drug so insatiable bruce couldn’t help but want more

the more you took him, the more your walls kept fluttering around his cock to adjust to his size. bruce had to groan and claim your lips with a hungry, passionate kiss to hold back a hiss. 

and if you think that wasn’t enough, just wait till you hear the words that come out of his mouth when he begins to drag his cock in you— deep and heavy in the type of way that had your back arching and your mouth gasping for more “fuuuck, just like that. keep suckin’ me in, baby” “god, you’re absolutely stunning”

“love this set on you so much, so—" thrust. “fucking” thrust. “much” thrust.

and when bruce finally had enough of pushing the fabric away and wanted both of his hands on your skin, he ripped your bikini bottom, not even thinking or even caring about the string tied on your hips he could have easily untied 

you gasped on his lips from the sound of fabric tearing, feeling both of his hands grip tightly on your hips and immediately speeding up the pace, the tip hitting that sweet spot vigorously “i’ll buy you another set” bruce promised on your lips with another thrust, more and more intense than the other. “fuck— make it the whole store” he groaned. “wanna see you model the whole collection”

now that’s what i call a hot girl summer. 

—————————————————————————

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©1nsignia— please do not steal, repost or reuse my work

[thomashelbyswife]

Tommy Shelby looking snuggly <3

for: @littlepeakydevil

[thomashelbyswife]

Tommy Shelby + striped shirts

for: @strategicone

[sylviedoesntexist]

tommy shelby x reader | sfw

tommy stumbles in the house while you’re cleaning the entrance, bloodied and barely standing.

tommy busted through the door without any explanation. as if the state he was in was normal. there he was, your boss, covered in blood. it was late, around 10 pm, and you had been going around the house cleaning things up here and there, doing final rounds for the night when you heard it.

you were in the foyer as luck would have it. tommy was a wreck. who knew who’s blood that even was? upon seeing you, he groaned and stumbled, gripping the table. “fuck…” the man rasped. you were in shock, eyes wide and feather duster dropped on the floor. you shook your head and rushed over to help him. you took his arm, and he dropped nearly all his weight on you.

“mister shelby, what happened?” he merely grumbled and sighed, and you decided it wasn’t important. you walked him to the nearest washroom and sat him down, and used a first aid kit to begin fixing him up. you started with wiping down his face and suit before taking it off.

starting with the coat, and then the undershirts. you tried not to stare, and keep in mind that he’s your boss, and you’re nothing but his maid. and that he’s quite literally bleeding out right in front of you.

you wiped down his wounds carefully with towels and antiseptics, trying to ignore the thoughts in your head, fantasizing about how he got himself these injuries. what he would look like being slapped around, punching back and getting thrown to the ground, and maybe even shedding a tear or two. the thoughts made your body ache with someone you refused to acknowledge, and you tried to not let it show as your hands ran over his body and injuries, nothing but the towel in your hands between the two.

but you saw how he watched you. like he knew something. even when you looked up at him, he didn’t let up his gaze. it burned a hole through your head, those pale blue irises staring. staring like the man that they belonged to knew.

you couldn’t help but feel intrigued, thinking about what he would say if he found out about your thoughts, despite the burning guilt and judgment you felt under his gaze.

he seemed to be a lot more aware now. you figured you could ask what was wrong with him now, but truth be told this was the first time you had been this close to tommy. you didn’t even know if he knew your name. he sat slumped in a silence, and as you tied up his last bandage, you spoke quietly, only barely audible.

“mister shelby, shouldn’t you be at a hos-“ he cut you off and elicited a flinch from you. “no. no, he’s looking for me.” he scoffed, speaking as if your question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard, as if you knew everything about his situation. “he’d find me at the hospital… he tried to bring me there.”

now, you had no clue who he was speaking of, but you couldn’t help your curiosity. “who?” he reached in his coat pocket as you spoke and waited your answer, sighing at the bloodied box and tossing it in the can. “campbell.” he mumbled. suddenly it dawned on you. the night you were sweeping the chamber halls and heard polly and tommy bickering about an inspector campbell.

that had been so long ago, back when tommy had stolen those guns by accident. you had thought this campbell character would’ve been out of town by now, since the stolen weapons had been a long solved issue between the peaky blinders and the crown. what more could this inspector have in town? all of tommy’s important business was almost entirely legal now, and he was far too careful with the parts that weren’t. “inspector campbell did this to you, sir?”

he shook his head and attempted to hop down from the counter. he gripped the edge with a steel grip, and you reached to grasp his arm to help. “then wh-“ he raised his hand in a harsh gesture to shut you up, and you snapped quiet. “i need to get to bed.” he spoke in a gravely tone, pulling off your grip and attempting to walk.

when he immediately stumbled you reached to support him again, and he reluctantly accepted your help. you two walked in silence as you walked him. the air felt thick, awkward and charged. your face went red at his next words.

“you spying on me?” that same, deep and raspy tone of his could make even the most nonsensical words sound like sin. but even apart from the smooth drone of his voice, his words shook you to your core. “sir, where’d you get that idea from?” you tried your best to sound calm, but maybe too hard… “you knew exactly who i was talking about, y/n. campbell?” he responded, turning his head over to you.

as his words entered your ears, your body chilled at the sound of your name. you had still been sure he didn’t have a clue what your name was, and hearing him say it was more gratifying than you thought. you kept you gaze forward, preparing him to go up a staircase. “no, i’m not.” you spoke with a nervous chuckle. and it was true, you weren’t. the inspector’s name was merely something you had overheard nearly a year ago.

“you’re quite scared of me, y/n. don’t be.” he spoke as if he was embarrassed of the words, embarrassed of trying to comfort you. you swallowed nervously and nodded, helping him set foot on solid ground again at the end of the staircase. “let me walk from here.” he requested firmly, and so you did. you released him and he seemed to appear more steady now, capable of walking on his own, albeit with a limp. “goodnight, mister shelby…” you spoke with a small voice. he chuckled. “come on.” he nodded towards his chamber door at the end of the hall.

your eyes widened. he turned and walked down the hall, and you remained still, fidgeting with your hands as you thought. you were afraid he’d accuse you of disobeying, so after a brief wrestle with your mind, you followed. he opened the chamber door and held it for you, and you stepped in aside him.

you didn’t know what to expect, or how you felt. but if you could come close to describing it, you would probably say absolute and undying fear.

(i am also really scared to post this rn but im doing it anyway🤕 oh and maybe a part two?)

[briarette]

if supergirl 2026 has 1000 fans, i am one of them. if supergirl 2026 has 100 fans, i am one of them. if supergirl 2026 has 10 fans, i am one of them. if supergirl 2026 has no fans, i'm dead.

[sunsburns]

imagine trying to keep up with clark 🤯 (18+)

clark kent is an undeniably gentle lover—clumsy at times, almost bashful, his movements hesitant in a way that’s endearing. sometimes, he looks to you for reassurance, those soft blue eyes pleading, asking if he’s making you feel good.

and he always does.

he knows your body so well it’s almost frustrating. his hands, his mouth, the way his voice drops just slightly when he whispers your name—it’s enough to leave you trembling every time.

he always tells you that you do. “perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm and uneven as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his voice is wrecked, raw in a way that makes you believe him—for a moment.

but there are things you’ve started to notice.

like the way he lingers for just a second too long, his lips brushing your temple as if hesitating to pull away or draw you closer. or how his hands tremble slightly when they release you, the strength behind them still careful, too careful. then, there are the moments he waits for you to fall asleep—the soft creak of the mattress, the shuffle of his feet as he slips out of bed, barely disturbing the air.

it’s always the same. the quiet click of the bathroom door, the faint rush of water as he turns on the shower.

you know what he’s doing in there.

and it eats at you, imagining him under the stream of hot water, head tilted back, his chest heaving as he works through the need that still claws at him. need that you weren’t able to fully satisfy.

once, you caught him. half-asleep and bleary-eyed, you stirred when the bed dipped, his weight returning as if nothing had happened. his skin was still damp, his hair darker and curling against his forehead.

but you want to be the one to help him blow off that steam.

“just blowing off some extra steam,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

no, you need to be the one.

you want him completely undone—panting, his chest heaving, red staining his cheeks while he’s too wrecked to say anything but your name. you want him shaking with pleasure, the same way he leaves you, winded and unable to think of anything else.

you want him gasping, moaning louder, his voice breaking apart as he tries to keep himself together. you want to see spit pooling at the corners of his lips, his body shuddering uncontrollably. you want him to blow load after load—on you, with you, inside you—until neither of you can take any more.

you just have to make sure you don’t turn the tables on yourself.

“you got another one for me, hun?” clark pleads, his voice soft but ragged.

his curls stick to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his face is flushed deeper than you’ve ever seen. his big hands hold your hips gently, fingers twitching as if he’s trying to resist gripping you tighter.

you’re blubbering, incoherent, your eyes unfocused as your nails scrape at his shoulders. it’s ridiculous trying to leave marks on steel skin, but the feeling of him, the weight of him, makes it impossible to stay still.

you’ve finally managed to corner him. after weeks, nearly a month of easing him into the idea that you could keep up with him, he let you try. and now he’s showing you a side of himself you’ve never seen before.

his body trembles against yours, his movements are frantic, urgent, a stark contrast to the measured pace he usually sets. your legs ache as you struggle to keep up, your body pliant and exhausted, while he bucks up against you, doing most of the work after you had given up on riding him.

he moves you easily, up and down his cock, his strength apparent even in his restraint. his head falls back against the headboard, blue eyes locked on yours, his glasses long discarded.

in all honesty, you don’t know if you have another one in you. you’d lost count three orgasms ago. you must’ve been delusional thinking you could keep up with clark kent, a man who is finally breaking a sweat, his broken moans and soft whimpers starting to turn into ones you’ve never heard from him before. even after cumming countless times, making a mess of your sheets, he still wants more, asks for it, begs for it—he needs more, he can take more, wants to give you more.

the slow drag of his cock, sliding in and out of you, has you mewling, tears staining your cheeks as the pleasure mounts again. his grip is firm but careful, guiding you, ensuring you can take everything he’s giving.

he makes you feel so good. your body trembling in his hands, every nerve alight and melting under his touch. you’ve become putty for him to mould.

it’s a little embarrassing, honestly—that he’s got you like this. you were supposed to be the one pleasing him, breaking him down, undoing him. not the other way around.

but he seems perfectly satisfied with the way things are right now.

you’re fully collapsed onto him now, your strength all but gone. his hips jerk upwards, his movements frantic and desperate, breath puffing hot air against your ear.

“can you… can you look at me?” he pleads, his voice cracking as his hands shift from your hips to cradle your face, tilting your head so you’re staring into his glassy, almost desperate eyes. “look at me while you come—it’ll make me come, too. please.”

you mean to whine, his touch burning against your skin, but the sound catches in your throat when you see him.

he looks utterly wrecked.

his eyes are clouded, unfocused, his lips slick and parted, his brow furrowed with something between pain and pure desire. you imagine you look much the same—spit glistening on your chin, cheeks flushed and tear-streaked, wetness trailing down your thighs.

he holds your gaze for a moment, his thumb brushing your lower lip before slipping into your mouth.

then, both of you move at once—you surge forward to kiss him, capturing those perfect, pink lips, your movements slow and languid while he remains restless. he adjusts to your pace, pulling you impossibly closer.

his blue eyes roll back as he thrusts into you again. one hand traces lines up your spine while his lips devour yours, leaving you trembling and teetering on the edge within minutes.

his kisses turn softer, trailing to your cheek, his teeth catching on your skin as he nips gently. “i’m not hurting you, am i?” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “i know it’s sensitive, baby. tell me if it’s too much, okay? i can stop if—”

“no, please,” you whimper, terrified he might actually stop. “it’s so good.”

you’re drunk with desire, clenching tightly around him.

“you feel so good, baby. so fucking good. you’re taking me so well.” his next thrust is sharp, deep, dragging a cry from your lips as he stills, buried to the hilt. “you’re gonna make me come again,” he groans, his voice breaking.

“fuck, please—”

“i want you to come for me again,” he interrupts, his desperation bleeding through. “you’re so tight and hot when you do. i need it again—please, baby, one more for me. can you give me one more?”

“i—yeah,” you nod, trembling, your body already vibrating on the verge of release.

he hardly gives you a moment to recover before he’s crooning, “one more, just one more, please, please, please—”

clark kent is completely undone.

[coffinlolz]

Touch(me)down !

pairing: Clark kent x reader

summary: When Clark tries his football jersey on, your mind is ridden by a sudden need to show him just how much you like it.

Tags and warnings: 18+ MDNI dryhumping, p in v, face-fucking, blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, cunnilingus, sub!clark (for the most part then he takes over), multiple orgasms, raw sex, aftercare, established relationship, clark has a BIG dick.

wc: 2.6k

A/N: ahhhh i rlly hope you like this. First pic posted andddd first smut written😭 special thanks to @kryptidfiles aaaaand @unificsation for proofreading and giving me their honest—and veeeery useful advice! Such sweet individuals 🫧🪽💌 pardonn me rlly if there’s any typos or mistakes english is not my first language😞

Sports have never really been your thing—you don't hate them, but you've never actually sat down and watched a whole game.

You're more artsy than anything, writing has always been a passion of yours. It's not a surprise that now that you're in college you've chosen the journalism path.

But your boyfriend Clark is a different story, he's sweet, well-mannered. a journalist, too. But his body screams athlete. Tall, broad shoulders and chest. Farm-made strength that put him on top of the list for the quarterback recruiting.

To nobody's surprise he made the team as soon as he tried out.

Today he finally got that Jersey with his last name big on the back and a number 8 in bold yellow letters.

You've been waiting for him to get it, see him try it on in front of you.

"Does it look good?" He says, looking at himself on your mirror, you're laying in your bed in front of it. Forearms propping you up on the mattress.

The jersey sticks tightly onto his abdomen, making him look delicious, you agree with hum at his question "I think it's perfect" you lick your lips, gaze sharp and dark. An idea crossing your mind.

That look is familiar to him, it sends a shiver down his spine.

The mirror catches Clark's eyes drag along the silhouette of your body on the bed. Suddenly your pose is not as innocent as it was 3 seconds ago. His nose and ears catch fire rapidly, warm and rosy all over.

You sit up slowly, and crawl to the edge of the bed. you pat the spot next to you, signaling him to sit there. He obeys to your commands like a well-behaved puppy.

"What are you doing?" A nervous chuckle escapes his mouth. He knows the answer, but he wants you to say it out loud.

"Just wanna show you how much I like the jersey on you" You bat your lashes at him innocently.

Once he sits down you get on your knees on the floor and prop yourself in between his legs.

The floor-length mirror next to you catches your attention, you can see your position perfectly.

A smirk forms on your face as he breaths heavily, flustered.

Big tent meeting you on eye level.

"You're so pretty" You mumble against his leg, you leave a kiss over his pants. "Can you take this off for me, please?" He obeys almost immediately, leaving only his boxers and jersey on.

Man what a view.

Your mouth already salivating at the sight of him.

His cock hard against the cotton underwear, displayed lewdly for you to enjoy completely by yourself.

His length wasn't anything unfamiliar to you, your insides were already Clark-shaped.

You make your way through his unclothed thighs, stopping to leave kisses and licks on his skin.

Sucking and licking, biting just enough to mark him up. Above you, you can only hear heavy breathing, soft moans and unintelligible mumbling—most likely praises.

Your hands go underneath the jersey, landing on his happy trail. You toy with the elastic band of the boxers, earning a desperate whine from Clark.

Anticipation making your own underwear pool up with your heat. You pull down revealing his size. Pink head throbbing, glistening with pre-cum.

Soft hands wrap around his thick cock, thumb pressing on the tip gaining a loud moan from Clark.

"Just like that, baby" He mumbles with a low growling voice, arching his hips upwards. You start going up and down, pace slow at first giving special attention to the sensitive tip. "So, so good."

Clark's head rolls back. The sound of him moaning and groaning your name floods the room.

You don't stop moving your hands around his dick, and you add your mouth to the equation. Wrapping your lips on it, sucking softly. tongue slithering on the tip.

Your head bobs at the same rhythm that your hands move on his cock, you flatten out your tongue against him. Clark's hands grab your hair and gently pull, you moan on his dick, sucking inch by inch further down.

Searching for stability, you grab his thighs firmly. His hips jerk upwards, thick, long dick reaching your throat and making gag.

Tears prick down your cheeks, you can hear Clark slurring apologetic words. You look up at him and moan at the sight.

He's a goner. Face red, curls messy on his face, eyes going white, and you swear you can see him slightly drooling. "You're so–mmphg…– so good, baby" He moans out, "So pretty taking me on your mouth so well, look at yourself" His head points to the mirror.

Your eyes leave his gaze to watch the lewd image displayed, your pussy flutters at the sight.

Warm, rosy tongue swirls around his length, nose almost touching his pubes, you breathe through your nose—still watching it all happen in the mirror.

Your left hand starts to play with his balls while the right keeps grabbing his thigh for balance.

His tip swells, a loud, guttural whine escapes his mouth—He's about to cum.

"I'm close, baby, please" He pleads for mercy, he cups your head in his hands. You look at him, holding eye contact and you blink twice at him, giving him permission use you.

And that he does.

He grabs your face from each side firmly and starts thrusting hard—abusing your mouth, making you gag each thrust he takes.

Drool, tears, precum and snot all combined run down your cheeks.

Both yours and his moans are loud enough for your neighbors to complain later.

Clark's cock twitches inside your throat, his hips jerk forward, in and out, his mind fuzzy and blank. Desperately searching for release by any means necessary, a low groan brewing in his chest.

"I love you so– nghh– so much, sweetheart" his voice is whiny, hands still grabbing hard on each side of your face.

Eyes locked with yours, you blink three times—I love you, you moan on his dick loudly, the vibration of your moan sending him into overdrive making him reach his orgasm

Your throat is painted white quickly. Your cheeks puff out with his cum, some escaping and rolling down the corner of your lips, going down his dick onto his lap and the mattress.

You swallow the rest of cum that's in your mouth, his dick softening slowly.

Still licking and sucking softly on it, electricity travels all throughout Clark's body with overstimulation. He slurs unintelligible praises softly.

When he pulls his dick out of your mouth, you get on top of his lap, legs straddling him on each side.

You grab his face forcing him to make eye contact.

When you sit down, you feel his dick hardening again, kryptonian anatomy.

You attack his mouth. kissing and sucking on his lower lip. You moan his name when you feel his hands on your ass squeezing tightly, the fabric of your skirt flipping upwards.

It's your turn to get off, you rock your hips back and forth. The contact of your clothed pussy and his unclothed cock makes both of you moan on each other's mouths.

You pull away from the kiss and grab his face, making him watch you through the mirror. "Good boy…" You smile at him.

Looking down to watch yourself grind on him, you peep his dick already leaking precum again. He helps you move also rocking his hips enough for the friction to make your already wet pussy even wetter, he whimpers your name and you kiss his neck.

You keep a fast pace, until you feel the coil in your belly tightening. Sloppy thrusts suggesting you're about to reach your orgasm.

"I'm so close baby, you've been such a good boy" Your head rests on the crook of his neck, he takes over, grinding his cock against your pussy.

You see stars, and you swear you can touch them too. You reach your orgasm just by dry humping.

Tired and overstimulated, you rest for a few minutes laying on top of him. His strong hands wrapped around your waist.

Then, he lays you down on the bed, takes off your skirt and props your legs open in front of him.

His hands go down to take off his jersey and you stop him with your foot.

"Uh-uh. Do not take that off." Your voice is low, almost a whisper, but it's firm—still commanding him. He smiles and leaves the jersey on, then goes down between your legs.

"'S my turn to taste you" His breath is hot against your core.

Your wet panties stick to your skin, he pulls them to the side and slides his tongue over your slit, all the way from your entrance to your clit. He stays there swirling his tongue around it. You moan at the sensation, your already sensitive pussy throbs and clenches around nothing.

"Tastes so good" He kisses your pussy, you moan shakily.

"Keep going, baby" Your voice is trembling and your legs are shaking, feet resting on his shoulder blades.

His tongue works on your clit as one finger stretches your entrance deliciously, stinging just a little while your pussy gets used to the intrusion.

He moves his fingers inside you; up and down, side to side, preparing you for his next finger to enter.

Two fingers inside, and he arches them just right to touch that soft gummy spot that makes your mouth hang open and your eyes flutter. Your back arches and your fingers get tangled between his soft black curls.

Your second orgasm approaches rapidly, your hands no longer rest softly on his hair now they're full-on pulling. His mouth works wonders on you, and he moans on it like he's the one being eaten out.

You arch your body into his mouth, "Clark!– fuck!" Your muscles tense up, your pupils roll to the back of your head, your mind goes numb. He grabs you by your waist, keeping you in place, his mouth still attached to your clit.

Your body shakes with overstimulation, the numbing sensation of your second orgasm makes you whimper his name repeatedly with a string of 'fuck, fuck, fuck' you pull his hair to make him face you.

Half his face was covered in saliva and your slick. He licks his lips, savoring every bit of your fluids.

"Fuck me, Clark," breathing out, "I'm ready. Please" you beg him, you need to feel him inside you.

You let go of his hair and he gives one last lick to your cunt, tongue flat against your core, drinking everything that he gathers from the motion. "You always taste so good" He takes off your panties completely now, then gets up and slides on top of you.

He kisses your neck, and suckles softly. He positions his dick in between your legs, the head pushing softly in your entrance.

A gasp catches in your throat as he pushes his cock inside slowly.

The stretch burns you, your nails scratch on his chest underneath the jersey.

"You're so tight, baby" He licks his lips, "Always perfect for me"

"Fuck, Clark," you close your eyes feeling him enter slowly, "You fuck me s-so good"

"You have such a dirty mouth" His hand grabs your neck, squeezing softly on the sides; letting you breath but pressing just enough to make your pussy clench around his dick. Earning a deep groan from Clark "You like that? You like it when I choke you?"

"Mhm- yes baby" You manage to get out

His dick goes further inside you, inch by inch until it's fully deep inside you, "Is this okay, baby?" You nod and hum, he looks down as your cunt takes his cock, "your pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart"

He starts thrusting slowly and softly first, cock hitting all the sweet spots. Then his pace gets faster, still careful, but rougher.

He takes your shirt off in one smooth motion. He presses on your lower belly, feeling his dick thump against the skin under his hand each thrust he takes. You can only moan and whimper his name.

His other hand leaves your neck and grabs on your breast, kneading it and playing with your nipple.

The room is hot with sweat and the friction of both your bodies. He uses his X-ray vision to watch his dick moving in and out inside of you, "You take me so well" He coos, "I can feel every inch of you gripping me. So, so good"

You can't even manage to get words out, just slurred mumbles and moans.

You're dizzy, and his dick hits every single part of your insides making you even dizzier.

Each thrust is hard, fast and deliberate. Balls slapping against your ass.

The sound bounces around the walls of the room plap, plap, plap.

Clark keeps spitting praises at you, he groans about how pretty you are and how well you take him—but you can't listen to a thing he says, pleasure getting to your head.

"I love watching my dick disappear inside you" he grabs your face and makes you look down at where your bodies merge together. "Look how perfectly we fit together."

His thrusts turn sloppy, desperate. His release coming closer each thrust he takes.

Your breath hitches, catching in your throat as the familiar feeling in your belly builds up for the third time, winding tighter with every movement. "'M close, Clark" You mumble.

"I know baby, me too" he hisses, squeezing your nipple between his index finger and his thumb.

The tightness of your warmth sends Clark over the edge, finally reaching his climax. He buries himself to the hilt. Every muscle in his back ripples and seizes as he spills into you. You arch into the pressure and reach your climax at the feeling of thick, rhythmic waves of his release pulsing directly against your cervix. "Fuck, Clark you're perfect"

With a sharp, breathless cry. He stays inside, still pouring his cum inside you, spilling out your entrance, staining your sheets. You whine and moan at the sensation, exhaustion and pleasure take over your body.

Clark finally pulls out, and throws himself next to you. Heavy breathing, his arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer as you lay together.

You stay laid up for a few minutes, before he eventually gets up and heads to the bathroom.

Then, comes back with a warm cloth. He cleans the combination of both your climaxes that sits between your legs and the mattress. He leaves tender kisses on your thighs.

"I've got you, just rest," he kisses again, "you don't have to move a single muscle, baby"

You just lay there, tired and dazed. Your muscles aching.

"You did so well taking me like that," He sits next to you once he's finished cleaning you up and takes off his jersey. "I might have to wash this jersey now" He folds it neatly and puts it on the nightstand.

You chuckle under your breath. He lays his head on the pillow, pulling you in closer and hugs you from behind. Leaving kisses on your shoulder and neck.

"I love you" You finally find your voice, you tangle your legs with his. He covers you with the blanket and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer.

"I love you so much more" His face lays on your neck, his hot breathing hitting your skin and you sync yours with it.

The small intimate moment is not a rare occurrence for both of you, but it's always the part you cherish the most when you have sex with him.

Your hearts beat at the same rhythm, and you're comfortable enough to relax and sleep.

Your guess is, this will be the new routine every time he puts that jersey on.

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto 💌

follow me on Ao3! @coffinlolz leave some kudos on the ao3 version!!

Likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated. thank uuuuu for reading, my lovely🫧🎀💌

[stephaniebrownwasarobin]

Ruthye, throughout the entirety of Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow:

[willyoubemycherryy]

Intimacy Cues (C. Kent)

Summary: Who better to teach you how to talk body when you never learned the language?

Contains: smut AND plot so it’s long,depressing past, the college au you all secretly needed, struggles with physical touch, struggles with any form of intimacy, one mild panic attack, Clark is understanding but hot, dumb ideas, hugging, bonding, kissing, making out, it starts off shaky then soft but quickly snowballs into horn-e central, size kink, slight dumbification, strength kink, first kisses, virginity kept but not for long just give me till the second part, Clark is a little infatuated, they’re so nasty about each other my word, grinding, kissing (no forreal), prayer bc we all need it

A/N- my stomach is fine, it wasn’t a tumor but a blockage because of something I ate that never digested, causing my tummy to bloat and swell but they fixed me up so I’m back😈

. .* ੈ✩‧₊•

“Nononono- no, stop!!”

This might be the worst decision of your entire life.

Clark pulls away again, looking down at you with his eyebrows drawn together in concern but also exasperation because-

“Hey! It’s okay- you’re okay. Remember…you were the one who asked for my help.” He didn’t say the obvious “but we’re not getting any farther” part out loud but it echoes through your head all the same and you breathe out a deep sigh; regretting it with the depths of your very being but, yes. You did ask him for his help.

Help with what? The answer would’ve ended your social life if anyone who wasn’t Clark had found out.

You needed his help with…closeness- intimacy.

Growing up you were always awkward. Not in a charming way or even unconventional, you just simply didn’t make the cut based by society’s standards. You were always too gangly, too weird, too timid; so imagine the surprise come middle of highschool to now college where you’ve finally grown into yourself.

You know how you like to dress and which clothes look hottest on you, you know what hairstyle suits best for your face shape, you’re still weird but you’re also sarcastic which somehow equals charm to people and you’ve also managed to come out of your shell a bit. Becoming more confident from people naturally gravitating towards you after your blooming stage and even more after letting your friends convince you to join your college’s cheerleading team. You’d become everything you wanted to always try.

Pretty, popular, and fun. The problem?

Thanks to how much of a late bloomer you were, you never got the chance to get comfortable with others intimately during your formative years. Nobody liked you in that way and you were terrified of embarrassing yourself so there was nothing. No first kiss, no first dance with a boy, hell- even now you still get uneasy when others stare at you too long. Hiding behind your image as a college sweetheart made everything you were still to unsettled to try easier. Don’t misunderstand; it wasn’t that you never wanted those things, it’s that you’re not used to others suddenly picking you for those kinds of things after being invisible and missing out on them for almost all your life to the point where you don’t know how to deal with it when those moments do happen.

Still, you acted like everything was fine.

Playing the role of pretty cheerleader- the flirty tease that was favored by many even though that favor was shallow as a tear on a hot day. You pretended. And it was working, nobody knew…or so you believed.

Cue to one of the football teams parties where you’d been flirting with a guy, coy smile painted on your face as you giggled softly whenever he spoke, batting your pretty eyes at him in your little mini skirt. It had been going well until he suddenly leaned closer, focusing solely on you and when you felt the heat of his skin from how close he was- it felt as if the color had drained from your face, leaving you frozen as you became so uncomfortable it was visible; nerves screaming at you to flee until you listened. Spinning on your heels and bolting, trying to calm your breathing enough to will the cotton out of your ears.

You didn’t realize it then but a certain pair of blue eyes had been watching the whole thing. He’s always seen you. Which is funny because you almost always actively avoid him. In fact, he’s seen you enough to know that this isn’t the first time you’ve had that reaction and one day after a particularly rough week of endless pondering over you; he decides to just ask you after practice is over. Clark waits until his and your friends leave, it being only you and him on the field when he starts to walk over to you. The sound of incoming footsteps make you look up and when you see him, he can hear the very second your heart stops; skipping a beat before it quickly begins to thrum out of rhythm.

Honestly, there genuinely are not enough words to describe how attractive Clark Kent was. He was so incomprehensibly beautiful that you avoided Clark altogether just to avoid getting a headache from staring at him for too long especially since the real suffering started when he’d smile. Seemingly perfect pearly white straight teeth but when his grin broadened, his sharp canines would show, leaving you breathless every time. The type of good looking that was flat out overwhelming. Besides being apart of adjacent stereotypes, you two didn’t go together but there was no animosity.

Clark stops and you have to look up at him because of his hulking size. At almost 6’4 he nearly dwarfed you and his proportions matched. Thick, beefy everything- everywhere and you swallow before forcing a smile on your face. While you preferred to avoid him for the sake of keeping yourself out of the psych ward from how crazy he could drive you; you were still curious as to why he came to talk to you. He takes a moment to just look at you, cerulean eyes almost glowing but he doesn’t realize how intense his stare is until you start to shuffle on your feet- dainty hands twitching nervously at your side and that’s when he speaks.

“Hey…I know we don’t usually talk or anything but are you okay?” Even his voice is dreamy but confusion draws on your face because you felt fine; nervous, like you were around any guy you thought was cute, but fine. Clark elaborates at your expression,

“Y’know because of what happened at the party last-”, that seems to jog your memory enough to snap you out of it, eyebrows shooting up as dread overtakes over your face. You whip your head around, making sure there’s no witnesses when you grab him by his sweaty shirt, dragging him all the way behind the bleachers as you slam him against the metal. Clark is caught so off guard that he just lets it happen; lets the pretty thing half his size drag him as you pleased. Your eyes shift as you glare up at him.

You’re positive he’s talking about your little freak out with close proximity guy, the one that made you leave the party completely; walking so fast you nearly burned a trail in the carpet. Heart pounding, you start to spiral.

He wasn’t supposed to see that. He- like everyone else- was supposed to be too drunk to notice anything.

Your nose scrunches, full lips curling in a snarl. “I swear if you say anything to anyone-!” You’re threatening him so fast, Clark falters, raising his hands in defense, debilitating blue eyes widening as he starts to plead his case.

“No no-! I didn’t! I-“, He stutters at your harsh gaze, the feel of your hands soaking through his shirt, warming his chest. He needs to hurry up and explain himself before you start disliking him. “I was just worried! Whenever I see you and a guy, even if you act interested-“, he rushes out, panting as he talks even faster, “the second they get too close you look like you’ll vomit!” Your hostility melts into shock and even more confusion and you let go of his shirt, stepping back as you study him, his words stuck in your mind.

“How..? Are you- you’ve been paying that close attention to me? When do you even see me?” You’re at such a loss for words that it’s hard to string them together to properly question him.

“…I”, he swallows harshly, “I always see you.” It’s pure adrenaline that motors his mouth- he thought he was over the time when lovely faced girls made him nervous but you were unexpectedly feisty. It lit something tingly in him. Your eyes search his face and he spills. “I see how you flirt but you’re sarcastic too. Everyone is so taken by your pretty that they don’t even notice, they just call it ‘wit”, he manages to catch his breath enough to sound less panicked now that you look like you won’t kill him, “I see how even though you’re a flyer, you hate heights-”

“H-how-?”

“Your right leg shakes when they lift you, no matter how stable your base is.” Your mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out, heart racing when his voice goes soft,

“But what I’m saying is- so what that you’re not really what you give off? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. ‘Jus curious why you think it is…”, he blinks those long lashes at you and you find yourself explaining the tale of your sordid social past.

By the end of it he’s stunned speechless.

You? Just how bad was your awkward phase for nobody to be interested in you? Wait so that also probably meant that-

“You’re a virgin?!”

You slap your hands over his mouth with a speed equal to his own, face flushed as you shush him, hissing in a low whisper.

“Jesus Chri- shut up! Are you trying to tell the entire campus?!!” You let out another heavy sigh.

“…yes, I am”. You let your hands fall to the side, refusing to look at him while he’s trying to process; silence filling the space between you. You’ve accepted that your ego will never recover from the most gorgeous being on the planet knowing about all your…truths. That you looked and acted the part of a vixen just to hide that you secretly weren’t.

“…so you’ve never done anyt-”,

“No.”

Well then.

You can’t take another long drag of awkward silence, turning to face the boy who knew you probably more than anyone else did.

“Look- I would’ve loved to remedy this but I-”

“Can’t stomach whenever a guy gets too close due to previous deep rooted societal wrought insecurities…” Bingo.

“Well for what it’s worth,” he gives you one of his disarming grins and a flush creeps up your neck; warming your ears, “I think you’re doing fine now.” You snap your head down to see that you two are standing fairly close or at least closer than you normally allow and you don’t have that itch to get him as far away from you as possible. That’s when you get the idea that- “Oh my god! You can help me get over my thing! This is perfect!”! You’re practically vibrating with glee, excited to finally have all your firsts without that looming of touch related dread haunting you. Clark however is swarmed with various images of him “helping” you and can’t keep his ears from reddening at all the different scenarios where he’d be required to be close to you and begins to stutter.

“W-well, I wa- not that I-! I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean w-we-”, you cut him off before he can weasel out of it, eyebrows creasing in frustration. You unconsciously step closer, your sweet smell bathes his senses as he stares you down, trying not to gulp too hard. “Please, Clark?”, you start and he swallows harshly at how his name sounds in that whiny tone from your lips.

“It can’t be anyone else because you’re the only one who knows! We’re not close now but we could be-“, and the double meaning makes him tune out completely as he only watches your plump lips move; not even registering the sound coming from them. He was thankful you didn’t ask him why he watched you so closely because the answer was one he wasn’t ready to even admit to himself.

Your lips stop moving after a while and them paired with your begging doe eyes make him cave, Clark nodding in hopeless defeat. He was supposed to be over the influence of pretty girls.

“S’okay, I’ll help you out. Your secret’s safe with me.” The corner of his mouth tilts up in a lopsided smile that was somehow both attractive but made you feel safe and you smile shyly back. You were nervous but you know Clark is a good guy- reckless as hell with his charms- but a good guy. What could go wrong?

•

•

•

Standing in the middle of your dorm room with your arms wound tight around yourself is when you find out that alot can go wrong.

Clark came over and you two came up with a starting plan that seemed the easiest: talk and slowly close the distance between you two until he was touching and looking at you without you getting uncomfortable or pushing him away. It sounded simple enough at first only…. you severely underestimated how you’d react to Clark. The way his deep mellow voice sounded in your ears, how he always held such steady eye contact as he moved towards you, that heavenly jawline tilting when he’d think too long. Already, Clark was big from afar but up close he was even bigger. Strong arms and broad shoulders; chest so thick it was noticeable through his shirt. You were used to others falling at your feet but Clark stood fine and it affected you in ways you didn’t prepare to deal with, so you tried to do what you always did- ignore it.

Matching Clark’s light conversation as you two eventually get more comfortable, gradually gravitating towards each other with slow short steps. The air shifts when you exhale and the breath tickles his chest. This is when you normally get squeamish but you merely hesitate for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and pushing yourself by letting him keep his distance.

His hand twitch and he shuffles a bit closer, biceps flexing as he reaches out, resting his hands on your shoulders; your conversation quiets as he stares at you with perfectly blue lidded eyes and then you feel the stirrings of restlessness under your skin. That impeding urge to get away. Despite the way you feel, the slow atmosphere helps you tremendously to not pull away but your pulse spikes all the same. His hands felt nice. You take another deep breath as you try to come to terms with what you were feeling.

Clark was a guy.

A guy who was standing in your bubble, touching you- looking at you.

A million emotions fly across your face at record speed and Clark doesn’t move any more for the next couple minutes. No, he waits for you; large rough palms warm on your bare shoulders while his pinky idly messes with the thin strap of your top. Your skin was soft. The heavy rise and fall of your chest has him focusing on you more intensely, trying to get a read on how you felt until you break the silence with a shaky exhale.

“We can keep going- you can keep touching me.” He knows you don’t mean it that way but his ears burn anyways as he nods. Taking a second to think before taking his hands off you to take yours, ignoring your big eyes look as he places your hands around his waist- inevitably moving closer and his voice softens like he’ll frighten you away if he were to speak any louder.

“You can touch me too. Promise I don’t mind…this is for you after all.” You suppress a whine because being so close was already hard with you fighting every instinct yelling at you to get gone and go somewhere where nobody could comprehend you but now with Clark staring at you like that, it was even harder. Your eyes flick about the room as you flatten your palms more against his back, mentally rolling your eyes back at how his muscles feel. You don’t even realize you’re biting your lip but Clark does, instantly alert the second he felt your small hands nervously press against him, his eyes zeroed in on the swollen skin dipping under the pressure of your teeth. He feels bad because while he was supposed to be helping you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy you were being so shy but hardheaded enough to build up the grit to go for what scared you because you wanted it.

Without taking his eyes off your face, he rubs his hands up to your neck, making you squeak before smoothing them back down your shoulders; repeating the motions with a gentle hum.

The room feels hot- you felt hot and jittery but it’s too much. Unable to keep the waves at bay, goosebumps trickle over your skin and your eyes scrunch in panic as your breathing picks up. He was close. Close and touching you. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes because you know when you do, you’ll be naked for all to see and you scream.

“Stop!”

Nobody can see you-nobody’s supposed to be seeing you, the girl who was never even chose last as you were overlooked entirely no matter how badly you wanted to reach out. Maybe that’s what started your fear. Maybe you were scared of losing experiences because of rejection.

Clark doesn’t move away but he isn’t touching you anymore and you aren’t touching him as your hands fly to the sides of your head, trying to calm yourself down and guilt pours over him. He wants to hug you; comfort you but he knows that pulling you against him in a hug will only worsen things right now so he waits. Closing his eyes to help you feel at ease, listening closely to the beat of your heart until your breaths quiet and he hears it fluctuate back to normal. He keeps his eyes closed until he feels your small trembling hands slide back around him and instead of putting his hands on your shoulders, he moves his arms around them; resting them against your back but not pulling you in yet. It’s quiet besides the hushed sounds of him cooing at you and your breathing. The air now has an underlying current and you shift in his heavy arms, inhaling deeply as you finally look up at his face. Shyly, you cut the silence; voice soft as how you feel.

“…you can open your eyes now..” Clark feels his own heart speed up before he responds, low tone matching yours and electricity hits you when it clicks. This is intimate.

“Are you okay? We can stop and try again some other time; I don’t wanna upset-,”

“I want you to look at me.”

His eyes pop open at your command, peering down at you in such a way that your breath catches; anxiousness rising up you again but you stay right where you are. Willing yourself to embrace the exposed way he makes you feel.

Under the heat of his stare it’s like he’s seeing everything you’ve ever hid or been but his hold is steady enough to let you know he’s there with you and he’s not going anywhere. You still feel naked but more than that, you feel safe. Comfortable enough to not shy away from his warmth, you take another breath; looking up at him through your lashes- it makes his head fuzzy.

His eyes shift from their usual blue to the shade of the sea after a storm and you’re swept away, logic going with you as you slowly glide your hands up his sides to his where his arms hold you. Feeling every dip and curve of his strong build until you reach his hands, repositioning them around your lower back. You move closer but because you two were already standing so close- your chests touch and Clark stops breathing. The soft swell of your breasts move against his body with your every inhale and he finds his senses filled with you.

Your gaze is torn away when you turn your head, looking down as you drop against his chest. Arms looping around him making his own instinctively curl around you, holding you tight to the firm but soft muscle of his chest. You both pause for a few minutes- waiting for the urgent panic but it never comes. Instead, you melt into him with a relieved sigh, warm breath bleeding into his shirt. You two were officially hugging.

And you were in heaven.

You never knew close contact with the opposite gender could be so delightful. Clark was just so big and warm and smelled so good, you bury your face into the meat of his pec almost deliriously, sighing happily. Fuck, you really had been missing out. His arms are firm and heavy against your back, effectively locking you against him. The endorphin rush hitting you has you practically purring; the sounds of your bliss vibrating Clark’s chest and he smiles, letting you get your fix as he enjoys the way you fit into his arms.

Unsurprisingly, you two stay like that for a while. Fitted against each other in the silence of your cozy bedroom. He sees the top of your head move and he’s suddenly looking into your eyes, pupils blown so wide that your eyes are black. Clark has to bite his lip to keep from smiling at how cute you look. Your eyes flit down to his mouth to see the peek of his fangs that always show, letting out a small breathy ‘oh’ when you do. You’re still reeling in all the best ways as you rest your chin against his chest, unabashedly looking at his handsome face.

Clark raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the phantom hearts in your eyes and the way your small feet are standing on top of his larger ones while you make no attempt to separate your bodies, completely content with his proximity. He likes you so he likes your closeness and he’s even more elated that you seem to like him being so close too. Speaking lowly so he doesn’t disturb you, he checks if you’re still on the planet with him.

“This okay, sweetheart? Y’enjoying yourself?” The petname slips out but you don’t move or rush to correct him as your blood simmers, a numbingly pleasant heat washing over you so strong it’s hard to think. Running your hands in a slow caress up his back, you feel the muscles flex as his arm twitches and a smile grows on your face as you blink dumbly- brain currently taking a break, you mumble sweetly,

“Mmhm, yeah. Never better.”

And it’s true. You’ve never felt this safe, this free with anyone that wasn’t immediate family or your best girl friends. He was touching you and seeing you but you didn’t care because you knew whatever he was seeing and touching, was safe as it would ever be with him.

Clark huffs out a laugh at your belated response, moving one of his hands in a warm caress up your back, feeling you shiver and he bites his lip again. You were so alluring without even having to try and he breathes to reign himself in since he was currently the first and only to have you melting like this from a hug alone. If a hug got you like this he could only imagine how beautifully you’d respond to-

“Um, C-Clark?” Your soft voice brings him back as he hums, flicking his eyes down lazily at you.

“Yeah, baby?” Your sweet little gasp makes him realize that he just called you another nickname but you don’t seem to mind, flustering prettily in his arms. He leans down closer to your face, only to hear you better, eyes patient as he stares at you.

“I know this is supposed to be about me but how do you feel? You’ve been so good with me..I just wanna make sure you’re okay too.” Clark smiles, moved that you’re worrying about him even with all his experience.

“Yeah I feel good but how about you? Want me to let go or we can try something different?” He would’ve asked if you wanted to stop but he was going off your body language and it was telling him distance was the last thing you wanted and he was right as you shook your head before resting your chin back into his chest, looking up at him with those pupil eclipsed doe eyes.

“I feel great but…”, your voice gets smaller as it takes on an almost needy tone before stopping altogether. You snap your face back into his chest and he’s even more curious to get it out of you but you just can’t say it.

“You really don’t need to be embarrassed. Clothed or naked, we all start somewhere”, he whispers against the top of your head, stroking your back soothingly as you try to talk yourself into asking him before you chicken out, “with me you can start wherever you want and you know I’ll never tell. Or make fun of you..”,

His voice is tender with warmness and it turns your reservations to raindrops as you look back into his eyes. Steeling your nerve, you ground yourself with the way you feel in another persons arms for the first time in your life- his arms and decide to go for it.

“You said- we can try something different?” Your heart begins to race again as Clark’s starts to pound. He can’t keep the heat out of eyes as he returns your stare, nodding.

“Yeah. We can do whatever you want.” His breath wafts across your face, forehead resting against yours and the rate at which you find yourself needing him- scares you. You’ve been depraved of this kind of contact to the point of fear since forever but now…

“Then…can we-“, you blink rapidly, not wanting to verbalize it but not wanting to go without even more.

“Can we kiss please?”

Clark has to shut his eyes. You looked so sweet, felt so soft and even though you couldn’t keep the neediness from seeping into your words, you still asked so politely. Blood rushes through his ears as he feels a familiar stirring in his groin, taking a deep breath because it wouldn’t do for him to lose control now, his voice is heady with pure want when he answers,

“F’course. I’d love to kiss, baby.”

Large hands settle around your waist as you get pulled completely flush to him, legs almost intertwining while your pelvises touch; bodies glued together. The languid heat of arousal thrums through you, making your head spin.

Your lips part when Clark presses his forehead more firmly against yours, lighting you from the inside out when he dips his neck to slot his open mouth over yours.

Immediately your chest burns, heart feeling like each pump is gasoline, fueling the fire hes started in you. Clark’s full lips slide against yours, alternating between suckling at your top lip then bottom lip slowly, coaxing you to follow his lead, groaning his approval and the sound turns you up as you press yourself harder against his body. You feel so good you’re thrumming- heat steadily pulsing through you.

Your heads move from how hard you’re kissing, slick sounds coming from your mouths intensifying as you get rougher, delicious shivers all up your spine. Clark presses his lips fully against yours, moving them open wider with his own, hot breaths mingling as he licks hotly against the opening of your mouth. A bolt of pleasure hits you so hard that you gasp, wrenching your mouth off his as you moan- the needy little thing so whiny it makes his cock fatten in his pants as you pant against each others lips. Fuck. He can smell how wet you are. The sweet, heady smell makes his mouth water with him tossing shame clean out the window.

“Can I put my tongue in your mouth? Please, pretty girl?” You move your arms around his neck to get as close as possible, nodding desperately.

“God, yes-” His mouth is back to consuming yours before you can finish. Opening your lips with the force of his swollen ones, he sucks your bottom lip before lapping his tongue into your mouth. You twitch in his hold, even more turned on when he doesn’t have to move to keep your squirming in place, casual show of strength making you lightheaded as he swallows your moans. Wet smacks fill the air, your grip on him tightening when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. You get wetter and he can tell, growling in pleasure as he suddenly lifts you; your legs locking around his waist as he uses his hold on yours to grind you against him. The result is instantaneous. You melt like cotton candy, chest shaking against his from your pleasured moans as your shared spit wets your lips. Still aware of the fact that you need to breathe, Clark pulls away with a suck of your lips- staring at you hungrily with dark eyes.

He can’t even remember when he picked you up but the tiny undulations of your hips let him know it was a welcome decision. You looked so good. Lips puffy n slick, doe eyes teary and blown out, wet as fuck with your hard nipples poking through your top…you could ask him for every one of Saturns rings and he’d get them for you.

Clark takes a deep lungful of your tantalizing scent before he checks on you again.

“How was that, sweetheart? Y’first kiss right?” You nod, cupping his face. You can’t help the way you smooch more pecks onto his pink lips, aching as you answer.

“It was so good”, you drag your nose down his jaw; kissing his ear as you whisper into it, “you feel so good, Clark..”. You have him completely hard at this point, thick and fat as his tip oozes pre when you start to whine. He almost feels bad that you’ve waited so long, being so pent up wasn’t healthy and you deserved to feel good everyday.

“What’s wrong baby?” The low timbre of his voice makes your pulse skyrocket, causing you to absolutely dissolve against him, hips twitching as he helped you rub yourself on him.

“I-I need..-“, you let out a soft cry and he quickly soothes you. Kissing you deeply before pulling away, licking his lips of your taste as he verbalizes exactly what you need.

“Need to cum?”

The heat in your chest blooms up to your face as you nod, suddenly growing shy but still comfortable. You purr as Clark presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, looking at you with pretty lidded eyes.

“Would it be okay if I made you cum princess?”

The utterly wrecked moan that comes out of your mouth has goosebumps scattering up his arms, holding you tighter as you nod vigorously.

“I need words baby”, he whispers. Giving you another kiss to tempt you and it works. He was too irresistible and he knew it.

“Yeah, you can make me cum Clark.” And with that he carries you over to your bed, laying you on the plushness as he takes over your mouth again with a hungry groan, your hands touching everywhere until he pulls away- fangs on display as he smiles making fire sweep through your veins.

Massaging your legs, he rises on his knees- taking off his shirt as your mind checks out from how hot he is, shifting restlessly as the ache in your pussy throbs with the best pain. Whining his name, Clark cooes at you; big hands moving to pull your clothes off. Your nerves are going haywire but you need this- need him to make you feel things, lifting your hips to help him slide your shorts and underwear off, spreading your legs as you let him get a good look at your messy wet hole twitching in need.

Clark swears, hooking his hands under your knees and bending them towards your chest. Exposing you more as he licks his lips, keeping his eyes glued to your cunt.

“Atta girl, jus’ lay there nice n pretty and I’ll give you what you need..”

Part ✌🏽…