[yogichi]

Baby You Know We’re a Different Type of Freak (Kento x Toji x Black! AFAB! Reader)

Kento returned home after his miserable overtime shift to his wife and her boyfriend, Toji. What will happen next?

Warnings: MDNI, Black fat/plus-size/curvy fem! reader, husband! nanami, live-in boyfriend! toji, double pen., unprotected, creampie, brief hair pulling, dirty talk, cucking, oral (f & m receiving, kento goes down on both), pet names (my love, darling, good girl, baby girl, babe, wife, etc.), brief spanking, Kento and Toji kiss, unprotected, nipple play, fluffy aftercare 

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: self indulgent, all likes, reblogs, notes are appreciated, had to resist saying "weeniering" instead of lovemaking lol

MDNI after the cut!

Nanani was exhausted from work. Feeling deflated, he typed in the front door code. As the lock clicks open, he loosens his tie, kicks off his nice dress shoes, and unbuttons his suffocating collar. As he walked towards the kitchen for a glass of water, he heard it. Kento chuckled to himself with a devilish grin, walking upstairs following the sweet sounds pouring from your bedroom. Is my poor wife so neglected that she has to satisfy herself? No. You were actually getting plowed by your boyfriend, Toji Fushiguro. Intertwined in a vulgar lotus position, his stabilizing arm wrapped around your waist. Your hips swiveled, creating lewd squelching that filled the room and mingled with your breathy moans. You were clearly on another planet as Toji was having an aggressive taste of your breasts. 

“You two having fun without me?” Kento's sweet voice brought the light of life back into your eyes. 

“Honey! You're home!” you whine excitedly. "Kentooo, I missed you, baby.” Kento was tickled at your neediness and smiled as he approached the rocking bed. 

“Aww, my sweet wife. I missed you too.” He lovingly pets your soft, poofy curls, melting you into his touch. “But thankfully, Mr. Fushiguro was kind enough to keep you company in my absence.” Kento placed a firm touch on Toji's shoulder, leaning in to loudly whisper in his ear, making sure you could hear. “Has she been a good girl?” A savage grin crept across Toji's lips. His hips bucked into you even harder, making you mewl. 

“Oh yea, your wife is a real good fuck. Cunt grips like a vice. Gushin' all over my balls. Cryin’ out like a cat in heat. And she's such a sweet girl. Been givin' me thank you kisses all night.” A quietly pleased moan rumbled in Kento's throat. He lovingly stroked you and Toji's hair. 

“I'm glad you were a good girl for Mr. Fushiguro, dear.” Kento placed a chaste kiss on your sweat-dampened forehead. “Let me reward your good behavior. Mr. Fushiguro?” Toji was lazily grinding his hips into you as he looked at Kento. 

“Hmm?” He raised a brow. 

“Are you done satisfying her?” A hearty laugh thundered from Toji as he suddenly started pounding into you mercilessly. Your voice cried out from the brutality. 

“There's no satisfying this minx, Kento. We've been at it since five this afternoon. Four fuckin’ hours straight, right, baby girl?” Slap! you yelp at the firm palm to your right ass cheek. Kento couldn't hide how tickled he was at this situation.

“I guess I'll have to help. Turn her around. Position 5.” Hearing the position number snapped you out of your trance because you knew what was coming. Suddenly, Toji lifted you, putting your back to his strapping chest, hoisting up your legs by the knees, showing off your puffy, glistening folds to Kento's hungry gaze. 

“K-Kento, please. I can't anymore.” You gasp.

“Shhhh. This is a reward. You heard Mr. Fushiguro. You were a good girl for him, and you're still not satisfied. So now, I must do my husbandly duties to ease your body.” 

“Yeah, doll. Hold out just a liittle while longer. I'm sure your doting husband missed this sexy, lucious body while he was working those miserable hours of overtime to give us this nice ass penthouse.” Kento and Toji tempted you past your limits, and you didn’t want to resist. Toji broke you two hours ago. While you gasp, catching your breath, eyes sparkling with tears that didn’t fall, your manicured hand finds its way to your weeping pussy, spreading your lower lips apart. The men took your clear non-verbal invitation. You felt your cunt split apart on the familiar shape of Toji's cock. 

“Aaahh-a-a-a, Tooojiiiii.” You were panting wildly at how he could hit those deep spots without even moving. 

“Alright, Kento. Get in here.” Toji playfully ordered. Kento slipped off his tie then removed his shirt as the plush mattress buckled under his weight. Seeing him crawl toward you like a sinister, hungry lion made you crave his possessive mark. 

“K-Kento.” You whisper, reaching out with open arms. Without hesitation, he kisses you deeply, a tasty, comforting warmth spreading across your mouth as your tongues greet each other. Kento separated from the kiss, delicately pulling you backward by the hair. A thin web of spit kept you connected. Your body was gently rocking, eroticly shaking your breasts from riding Toji’s dick as deep as it could fit.

“Ooh, my dear, you have no clue what you do to me. One more kiss before we get down to business, hm?” “Uh-huh,” you mutter, nodding your head in a daze. “Good girl.” A tender kiss on the forehead and a loving pat on the head, then another romantic kiss on the lips before he trailed kisses down your neck, between the valley of your breasts - aahh, I gotta give those some attention later - Kento thought to himself. Making his way to your navel. He punctuates his journey with a ticklish kiss on your mound before moving down to your stretched-out pussy, swallowing Toji whole. “Toji? Could you grind into her a bit more gently, please?” There was a hint of sarcastic exasperation in Nanami’s voice..

“f’Course. Hang on, baby girl. Let me know if I'm stirring too deep in that womb ok?” His grin was cocky, irritating, but it turned you on. Your body betrayed you as a warm gush ran down your thighs. Toji chuckled as he felt your running trail of arousal.

“Ok.” You respond meekly as his movement goes from in and out to grinding into your deepest parts, no breaks. 

“Relax sweetheart. Un-tense those muscles and put your weight on me. Lean on me, baby.” As you gasp and moan you try to release the tension in your body and rely on Toji to be your human chair. Even though you know Toji and Kento are more than strong enough to carry your plus-sized frame in moments like this you still feel too shy to fully let them support your weight. But their honeyed words and tender gazes melt your worries away. 

“Finally… my turn.” Kento scoots closer to where you and Toji were joined, his thick length buried to the hilt. Kento took a deep breath logging the scent of both of your sexes into his mind for later. He greeted your swollen clit with a teasing kiss. You throb in response. “She's so sensitive she’s jumping. Did you not prep her, Fushiguro?” 

“She wouldn't let me. So eager she took what was hers, no foreplay.” Kento groaned in displeasure, latching onto your clit. 

“Naughty girl. We can't have you hurting yourself, being rash.”

“I'm sorry, Kento. I've missed you so much. We haven't been intimate in two weeks since you've been working overtime.” Kento's slurping grew louder as if to apologize, making you whine. But you continued speaking what’s been on your mind. “A-and Toji's been working a-all these weird hours - ah!” Toji thrusted into you trying to cut you off. “Toji don't!” He snickered at how flustered you got. But then you saw him grimace, hissing through his teeth. 

“Kento! Put your tongue away when I fuck into her like that! Fuckin ticklin my balls and shit.” He grumbled towards the end of his sentence. You’ve never seen Toji look or sound so shy before. Kento let out a low sneaky chuckle. 

“Fushiguro, I thought our relationship was deeper than that.” He gave Toji's already strained balls a tender lick up the front, then a kiss, making them jump at the sensation while stuffed into you. 

“Kento stop or I'll bust in your wife!” Toji barked.

“Oh?” Kento framed his chin in a V with his pointer and thumb, considering Toji’s warning. “That wouldn't be too bad, Fushiguro. It would make a delicious mess.” Kento teased as he ran his tongue from Toji's slick-covered base to your sensitive erect nub. You were shocked at the words coming from Kento's mouth but a part of you knew he had to enjoy Toji's presence in some deeper way considering he let him move in and fuck you regularly in his absence. Kento was enjoying the slippery buffet before him - his wife's beautiful cunt opened on Toji's massive dick. Kento was beyond turned on, erection straining against his suit pants. As he orally pleased his intertwined lovers, he palmed his clothed dick. It was getting too tight. He hated to leave but reveled in the sticky trail connecting his mouth to your messy cunt and Toji’s length. He stood up from the bed to take off his expensive suit pants. He didn't want to stain his expensive pants with pre. His dick remained tightly in his fist as he returned to you and Toji's mess, continuing his meal. 

“Fuuuck that feels amazing. You're both filthy ass sluts ya know that right?” Toji clenched his jaw fighting the overwhelming feeling of being in your warmth while Kento went down on you both.

“Why else do you think we're together? She's my beautiful cock sleeve and I'm her humble servant of pleasure.” He ends his sentence sucking your clit hard then soothing it with circular licks, as he masterfully rolled Toji’s balls in his hand. “I'll do whatever makes my wife happy,” Kento whispered into your weeping core. “You make her happy when I can't, Fushiguro. Anyone who does that deserves a place in our home.” He gave Toji's balls a tender suck to show his gratitude. Toji winces in response.

“Whatever. I'd do anything for her. Even if it means sharing her with the man she really loves.” Hearing Toji say that halted your dickmatized state in its tracks. 

“Toj… I love you too. A lot. I can’t help that we met after I was married.” Your voice was like a hug as you caressed his jaw. “I love you equally for different reasons. We all fulfill needs for each other.” You tried to comfort Toji with a kiss on the lips. Kento slithered up from between your legs flashing Toji a reassuring glance. 

“Fushiguro. If it weren't for you, my darling wife would've been all by her lonesome tonight.” There was a kind of warmth in Kento's eyes you'd never seen before. Kento held the other side of Toji's face. Their lips grew closer and closer until kiss. contact was made. You never thought you'd see the day Kento would lovingly kiss Toji. Neither did Toji judging by the surprise on his face.

“Wha-?” Toji pulls away from Kento with a scoff. “Tch! You guys are weird. Even though I don't need your love or approval I guess I'm glad I have it anyway. Like I said, I love her more than anything.” You and Kento smiled at Toji, leaning in to kiss him again. Shockingly, he yielded to the three-way kiss softly moaning in pleasure in unison with you and Kento. 

“Now that we're all on the same page about loving the same woman, time for us all to really bond.” You softly rubbed Toji's face then looked at Kento knowing what was coming. “Get her back in position Fushiguro.” 

He grunted as he hoisted your legs up by the knees. “No problem.” Kento smiled at your filled hole and Toji's veiny thickness, eager to find his place next to them both. He got close to your face which was resting in the crook of Toji's neck. 

“Brace yourself, my love.” All he needed was a quick rub of his light pink, pre cum slicked tip against your arousal before pushing past Fushiguro's dick inside you. 

“Ah! A-ha-ha-haa!” You cried out at the sting of Kento pushing himself inside your already full hole. Toji threw his head forward giving you a firm bite to the neck at how unbelievably tight you were. Kento’s head simultaneously fell back with a wince. When he came back to his senses, Kento rested his forehead on yours.

“Breath my love.” Kento calmly whispered. “We’re giving you a lot right now but I know you can take it. You’re such a good girl f’us aren’t you?” 

“Yes! I’ll always be a good girl for you Kento! I’ll take everything you both give me!” Your voice came out as a loud strained moan. Your throat was raw from moaning and whining for hours. Without pulling out, he leaned over to the nightstand to grab the glass of ice water. 

“Atta girl. Here, drink this. You sound parched, my love.” The ice was clanking in the glass thanks to your shaky grasp. “You poor thing. Here, let your husband help you.” Nanami took the glass from your hand, turning to the side as he took water into his mouth. He knew you loved watching his Adam’s apple. His memory was clearly correct the way you practically had stars in your eyes watching him. In one swift movement, Kento turned his attention to you, tilted your chin up, put his lips on yours, then gulp! you were hydrated. “Is that better, my love?” 

“Y-yes, my love.” Your voice was still weak but audibly soothed. Kento chuckled as he picked up the pace making you bawl from the intensity of his motions combined with the friction against Toji. 

“You two make me sick sometimes.” Toji rolled his eyes, taking his frustration out on your thoroughly abused cunt, making you sob as your head fell back. 

“Aww, Fushiguro. Do you want some water too?” Kento playfully brought the glass to his lips obnoxiously slurping.

“Not from your nasty ass mouth! Give me the fucking glass!” Nanami laughed extending the glass to Fushiguro, who promptly snatched it away. After he took a gulp he looked down at you. “Can I give you some too? I’ve been real rough with you today and-” You look up at him with a giggle.

“Aw, you big softie. Of course.” As you lean in for a water-imparting kiss, you can’t help but reassure Toji how much he means to you with a tender caress of his cheek. The way his hard jaw contrasted with the softness of your hand, exhilarated you both. When your mouths finally make contact, moans pour from you both but Toji eats them right up. You could feel a small drop of your hot arousal run down your most intimate parts. Even with Kento happily watching you both, it felt like you and Toji were the only people in the world. To remind both men how much you love them, you started moving your hips, fondling your nipples, as pornographic moans flowed from your luscious lips - you knew that always drove them wild. Namani and Fushiguro took in the filthy beautiful sight that was you pleasuring yourself on their cocks. 

“You know how that drives us crazy don’t you?” Kento growls.

“Uhuh!” You shout, vigorously rolling your nipples between your fingers and bucking your hips with more enthusiasm. They both chuckle but Kento decides to take your stiff peak in his mouth, gleefully savoring it. He bit your nipple between his teeth before he spoke.

“You naughty, naughty housewife.” He soothes his biting teeth and words by resuming his diligent sucking. He and Toji pick up their shared pace, coordinating their attacks. Synchronizing their thrusts, going in opposite directions, or going as deep as they could then staying put, letting your body mold to their shape. Your legs were limp, useless. Luckily Toji did the hard work for you, keeping your knees locked in his muscular, dependable arms. All you could do was moan, whimper, and mewl at being completely broken at the mercy of their god-tier double lovemaking. Your poor hips were sore yet tingling numb from the relentless pounding for what felt like forever. Not to mention your pussy was a soaking gushing mess, totally adapted for the double intrusion. It was such a slippery mess there’s no way those two animals barebacking you could last much longer. 

“Damn it, I’m gonna cum. Shit!” Toji thrust up into you so hard you thought he had ruptured something. Then you felt a white-hot warmth coat your insides. Somehow you were even messier. The wet sounds of your core, combined with the squelching of Kento and Toji’s dicks rubbing against each other inside you, now accented with Toji’s cum were the nastiest noises you’ve ever heard. 

“Fuckin’ hell it’s so wet. I’m gonna -” A short grunt cut off Kento's sentence before spurt! spurt! He painted your plush pink walls. Kento’s cock was insanely sensitive between your velvety insides, the underside of Toji’s hard dick rubbing against him, and the combined orgasms. Both men were choking and panting, trying to calm down from their mind-shattering climaxes. You simply lay there in a daze, the only thing you could hear was your pounding heartbeat. Pure exhaustion overtook your body. Toji and Kento noticed how you limply trembled, not an ounce of strength left as the spring in your core snapped, gushing liquid cum all over both men. 

“Oh, my… it seems we may have gone overboard with our dear lover. Poor thing.” Kento pulling out made you whine, bottom lip quivering. Toji leaving your warmth right after left an uncomfortable empty feeling within you, physically and mentally after being connected for hours. Even though you were too weak to speak, you threw your slack arms around Kento’s neck with a soft cry sealed with a deep kiss on the lips. You want him to know you still need him. You then turned your attention to Toji, throwing yourself at his rock-hard torso, peppering his jaw with kisses. 

“Aw, baby girl. You want us to pamper you?” Toji ran his hand over your curls, nuzzling his nose into yours. 

“Yes, please.” You sweetly sighs before continuing. “You two really did a number on me today.” You playfully slap Toji’s brawny chest then kick Kento’s sturdy thigh. You all laugh. 

“Alright, alright. No need to get violent.” Toji’s voice transitioned from a chuckle to comforting sincerity. “I’ll run us a bath with your favorite bubble bath, light those candles we got from that local shop you love so much.” Nanami gently ran his hands up and down your thigh as he nodded his head in agreement, lovingly looking into your eyes. “Kento can make a fancy charcuterie to get your energy back. Maybe pour some chilled champagne?” You nuzzle into Toji’s chest with a content sigh.

“That would be nice.” Kento leaned down to smooch your ear. “Wait here, love.” Nanami elegantly got up from the bed returning with your robe. He knows how you hate feeling naked and vulnerable after an intense sex marathon. “I’ll go downstairs, make us some food and grab more water. Put this on while you wait, ok?” Your pupils dilate from the overwhelming sense of affection you feel for the caring man before you. Once he leaves the room, Toji also gets up gently placing you in the nest of pillows he was resting on. 

“I’ll run our bath, then be right back to hold you.” Toji bestowed a lingering kiss upon your forehead before disappearing into the attached bathroom. When you hear the water start running, the floral scent wafting with the steam, your body begins to melt into your silk robe. This is what heaven feels like. I don’t know what I did to be so lucky. You peacefully wonder to yourself with a content, swooning sigh. Toji makes his way back into the bedroom, plopping down next to you in the Alaskan king-sized bed with a blissful exhale, arm flexing behind his head. He can sense your big doe eyes staring through him. “Get in here, babe. These muscles ain’t just for lookin'.” Toji gestures for you to come lay on him and you cheerfully obliged, with a grateful breath. As your eye lids start to fall, a familiar voice breaks the silence. 

“Here my darlings, come eat. You both must be famished.” Kento shuffles towards you with a warm smile, imported cheeses and meats, olives, nuts, fruit, various jams, on a wooden tray, and three gold-filled champagne flutes in the corner. 

“Damn right I’m famished,” Toji retorts mockingly. “Been banging your wife for five hours.” He continues with a dark chuckle before shoveling a handful of cured meats into his mouth. Kento snickers at his antics before turning his attention to you. He thoughtfully builds you the perfect bite. When the food reaches your face, you're bombarded with appetizing fragrances. You awaitingly part your lips as you savor that first bite. The grin on Nanami’s face showed how much your bliss, in every sense, gave his spirit a warm, comforting feeling. Toji gets up to tend the running bath. Being alone with your husband felt awkward after such an intense minaj et toi until you saw his beaming face. 

“Nanami?”

“Yes, my love?” Kento’s tone was kind and inquisitive. 

“Are you really ok with this?” Kento rested into the den of pillows cradling you in his arms.

“Remember three years ago when those armed men broke into our house while I was away on business?” You solemnly nod. “As soon as I told him what I saw on the camera, Toji rushed over and single-handedly put all of them in the hospital.” Kento began stroking your hair. “When I was forced to work overtime so long it was cruel to you, Toji made you laugh and took care of you in my stead. He’s the man I trust with the person I treasure above all else. And that makes me love him too.” Kento's confession made you look up at him joyfully. Toji struts out of the bathroom, tossing his damp hair.

“Bath’s ready.” He hesitates realizing you and your husband were sharing a tender moment. “Should I go ahead without y’all?”

“No! We can go together.” You slide off the edge of the bed, Kento’s hand in yours, reaching your other hand to meet Toji’s. “Since we all love each other.” After standing on your tiptoes to quickly kiss their lips, you lead them to the foggy, aromatic bathroom. I love my life - you muse until your thoughts are interrupted from being carried bridal style then lowered into the steaming water by Toji. 

“Can’t have you slippin' on those wobbly ass legs.” The bathwater around you sloshes as the large men join you in the Jacuzzi tub. The hot water eases every ache and strain in your tender body. You feel Kento start massaging your feet and legs while Toji rubs your back and shoulders, sinking your body to a new level of relaxation. The words you didn’t have to say, accentuated by the tranquil sounds of humming water jets and bubbling water, put your mind at ease. This peace you found with each other was what you all needed.   

[dolcemisu]

frat!kuna wants to hear your pretty noises (shy!reader)

even though sukuna wasn’t very vocal, that didn’t mean he didn’t want you to be. when you randomly went quiet underneath him, he wasn’t pleased. his thick cock split you open, causing your gummy walls to flutter around his length. you were squirming underneath him with your pupils blown wide as you took him. sukuna was in awe—you looked beautiful under him just as always—but something was missing. aside from the sound of skin on skin, it was quiet. too quiet.

“don’t go silent on me,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “i need to hear you.”

you were flustered. you turned your head away in embarrassment and shook your head. he snapped his hips again, tip nudging your cervix. you bit your lip to suppress the moan threatening to escape from you.

“are you embarrassed?” sukuna asked. “there’s no need to be, i promise.”

you hesitated, moved by his reassurance. he felt good and you wanted to show him that. but, you were shy. plus, it wasn’t like he made any noise other than his praise and a few low grunts here and there. you didn’t want to do it alone.

“taking me so well,” sukuna groaned. “so fucking tight you’d think i didn’t take good care of you.”

you let out a quiet moan, back arching. it was so hard to keep quiet, especially with the way he buried you to the hilt. you were so full of him you couldn’t think straight. heat pooled in your stomach as he fucked you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

sukuna was close too, how could he not be? your warm walls hugged his length tightly, practically sucking him into your tight cunt. the sight of you under him was enough to get him off. but without the sound of your broken cries, he wasn’t sure if he could finish just yet.

sukuna decided instead of telling you you weren’t alone, he’d show you. the groan he let out snapped you out of it. you clenched around him immediately at the sound.

“‘kuna,” you whined without even realizing it. “feels s’good.”

“there she is. my pretty girl, don’t hide from me. let me hear how good it feels, yeah?”

you nodded and spread your legs even wider. sukuna angled his hips slightly to where his cock reached your sweet spot with each thrust. the delicious stretch was blinding. you cried out his name as you took all of him. his balls slapped against your ass, the lewd sound filling the room and egging him on even more. sukuna groaned into your ear and whispered to you.

“you’re close? come for me, need to hear it and feel it.”

you weren’t as quiet when you came. your orgasm shattered over you at his words. you cried out his name and gripped his bicep. as you came down from the high, you panted, lip quivering as you caught your breath. sukuna followed you right after. he buried you to the hilt with his cock, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside your pussy. he groaned softly before collapsing on the bed beside you. his arms found yours, pulling you close to his chest. you put your ear to his chest and listened. his heart was pounding so hard like it was about to burst. you looked up at him with a small smile. he mirrored it and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“to be honest, i don’t think i can go again without hearing you,” he admitted. “don’t be afraid, i got you. always.”

series m.list

© DOLCEMISU

[rosenclaws]

clark kent and prone position

minors dni! nsfw below!! afab!reader

Clark Kent isn’t really a fan of doggy style. He much prefers positions where he can see your face and admire you as he’s making you fall apart. Missionary, cowgirl, against the wall, on top of the counter, on the floor…the possibilities are endless.

He doesn’t just wanna fuck you. He wants to make love to you. He was taught that sex is what people do when they’re truly fully in love. To be quite literally naked physically but also emotionally and Clark took that to heart.

But…he has to admit theres one position that has his head spinning that his ma would probably shake her head at. But he can’t help it. He is after all just a man. Maybe not a human man but god when he hears those cries and feels your cunt wrapped around him he might as well be as weak as one. 

You’re flat on your stomach, hands clawing at the sheets as Clark’s arm gently wraps around your head. A firm reminder of his presence. As if his dick pounding into you wan’t enough. He’s holding himself up with the other hand. Making sure he doesn’t crush you with his other worldly strength. His hips are punishing in their movements. Hard and slow, like he’s carving his name into your cunt.

Normally he likes watching your face as he makes you feel good but with this position he can hear your whimpers and moans so much clearer. His face is pressed to the side of yours, his nose smushed against your cheek. Pretty filth spilling from his lips as he praises you and your body for responding so well to him.

Making such sweet noises honey

You feel so good, squeezing me so tight m’afraid you need to relax baby

Making a mess on the sheets hm? That’s okay I’ll take care of it just let go on my dick.

He has no idea the kind of effect he truly has on you but based on the way your thighs are shaking and your nails are digging into his arm, he has some idea.

He likes feeling you go limp in his arms, melting into a puddle and trusting Clark to take care of you. Your brain turning to mush but you know that he’s there and that he’s safe. Perhaps Superman has a small hero complex as the idea makes his cock twitch.

And when hes finally done and spent he presses a soft loving kiss to your temple. Whispering sweet praise over and over as he stays on top of you like a warm, comforting, loving blanket.

[fiilthyleandoer]

Synopsis: Higuruma can’t seem to focus on work; rather he is focused on how his assistants skirt hugs her ass.

CW: sêxinoffice, ôral (fem receiving), from the back, sêxondesk, messy sèx, cérvix kissing, n0protection, filling w0mb, pet names—sweetheart.

Word count: 3.3k~

——————————————————————————

“—I’m going to need these documents by the end of the week, make sure to call Mr. Mishima for his appointment tomorrow morning,” Hiromi’s fingers twirled around his pen as he gave out the instructions for that morning. You were his reliable assistant, one of the few people in the firm that worked very closely to Hiromi.

“Yes, I’ll get those done as soon as possible.”

Hiromi nods, he reached out his hand to grab a post-it note, the fabric of his suit slightly straining against his sculpted forearms. The pen glided through the paper, each stroke only pulsated the veins located on his hands. Hiromi’s eyes glanced back at your form as you left his office, his grip tightened on the pen as he noticed your skirt.

It was modest enough to be seen as professional from a glance, but with every movement of your smooth thighs, the fabric hiked upwards creating a tantalizing view. Your outfits always caught Hiromi’s eyes: beautiful blouses that fit perfectly around your cleavage, stockings that clung tightly against your thighs, heels that made you look more ravishing.

He wanted nothing more but to be on his knees in front of your form— perched on his leather chair with your legs crossed, dangling your lovely heels in front of him. He imagined himself running his warm hands on your smooth claves up to your creamy thighs. The fabric of the stockings creating an addicting friction that furthered the tension. Hiromi’s tired eyes would look at yours, begging for more, begging to just have a little taste—

The click of the door finally broke him out of your spell. He rested his back against the leather chair, his lungs taking a deep breath as he came back to reality. He didn’t know how long he can handle your presence before doing something so reckless. Hiromi’s fingers hook on his tie, pulling it to loosen his collar just enough to get more air.

He needed to stay on top of his game.

.

.

.

It was like you were purposely teasing him.

“Here, Higuruma. The documents you requested and Mr Mishima thanked you for the reminder.”

The documents were warm, fresh out from the printer, both your hands set on each side on the pages; a polite manner when giving it to your boss but, Hiromi could only focus on the bra you were wearing today. The thin fabric clung nicely to the garment making Hiromi’s senses go wild. Could it be a cute little lacy one? With an opening in the front that would make it easier for Hiromi to snap it open with his teeth? Plus, the silk bow that held your blouse made it look so tempting to undo.

To make conversation Hiromi glanced at your manicured nails, “Ah, Did you get your nails done recently?”

Your eyes slightly widen at the sudden comment of your nails, but you give a smile with a flex of your new set, “Yes, I just got them done! Decided on a new color on me, how do they look?”

His eyes traveled around your fingers, the nimble limbs decorated by your new fresh acrylics—he could only imagine how those nails could dig into his wooden desk if he bent you over it—“The color suits you…”

Your smile brightens even more, the color of your cheeks began to show, “Gosh, thank you! Your the first to notice the change”

He gave a small huff of laughter, needing to shake away the desire he was suddenly feeling so early in the morning, “I have quite the eye for detail.”

‘Like noticing your skirt is shorter from yesterdays…’

Oh, yes. He noticed the shortened skirt as soon as you walked in from work. The way it hiked up your thighs even more when you tried hooking up your coat on the rack, just barely covering your ass. He was addicted the way it was snug around your waist, exposing more of your curves to him. It didn’t help that you were wearing higher heels that elongated your legs, which gave Hiromi a glance of your inner thighs every now and then.

Every click and clack of your heels became a sirens song to Hiromi. His eyes would instantly try to find your form when he heard the sound. He was so desperate that he made excuses to get out of his office; either by getting something from the break room or pretending to grab more supplies. He would stare whenever you began to print documents for some upcoming meeting, how you stretched across the machine in order to click a single button— how every piece of fabric on your body just cling to your curves so sensually. He grew a bit jealous at how the other young male lawyers were also infatuated at your simple motion.

It only got worse when his client came in for his appointment.

.

.

.

He really did try to focus on Mr Mishima, he really did try.

The man continued to spew on about how much money he spent on lawyers to help him with this case. He needed to prove that he is innocent of some crime that Hiromi couldn’t remember. Usually, Hiromi was writing notes while a client is speaking, trying to get every detail about the case; however, it was so hard to care when his cute assistant is perched on the chair near the door in her miniskirt. Legs crossed, thighs wrapped in that sexy mesh stocking, heels slightly dangling on the front of your foot— barely revealing your smooth soles.

He bit on the click of his pen, focusing on how your skirt can barely contain the plush of your thighs. His eyes darted back to Mishima as he asked Hiromi a question that revolved around the case.

Hiromi had to pull something out of his ass to save face.

“—Thank you for coming, I’ll make sure to look over the case thoroughly.”

The meeting was a disaster in Hiromi’s eyes, he had never been so distracted in his life. That damn skirt. Damn you. What made it more frustrating was how Mishima also gazed on your form when you led him out. The lawyer wanted nothing more than to lock you away in his office, rip away your stockings and taste you.

Hiromi pinches the bridge of his nose, needing to get back into his professional mindset before he gets an HR complaint.

The door clicked open once more, his eyes peeked open to see your form emerge. Your lovely face pokes from the small gap of the door, “Excuse me, Higuruma?”

He quickly flattened the wrinkles on his coat, “yes?”

You squeeze yourself through the door, closing it from behind, “Sorry, I think I forgot my phone here. Do you mind if I?—“

“No,no…not at all, go ahead.”

He gestured around awkwardly, turning away to let you look around in peace. You walked over to the chair that you had once sat in, your hands digging in the gaps of the cushions. Hiromi could just see your bent form from the side, his head itching to just fully turn, but he knew that he needed to keep his distance. Unfortunately, his eyes began to wander.

There in all its glory was the curve of your ass on full display, your skirt ridding up just enough to see your cotton panties. You continued to dig into the cushions, your knees buckling on the position you were in. Then, Hiromi noticed a small tear in your stockings, one in between your inner thighs. The idea that the tear was caused by your flesh rubbing against one another almost made him groan out loud.

“I got it!”

You victoriously pull out your phone from the cushions, showing him your triumphant smile with your face flushed and all. The sudden movement startled Hiromi, his eyes quickly shifted around before going back to you.

“O-oh. Congratulations”

A breathless chuckle escaped your lips at his awkward consolation; however, you didn’t think much of it. You quickly headed out from his office, giving a cheerful depart before heading back to work.

God he needed to keep it in his pants.

.

.

.

He was back in his flow: documents were being highlighted, sticky notes littered his desk, phone calls were being made. Hiromi had no distractions—

“Higuruma?”

Fuck.

His eyes look away from his document toward yours, he gave a polite nod for you to enter his office. He couldn’t get over the way your calves flexed as you stepped in your heels, it made him wonder if your feet ached from the constant pressure. He imagined his fingers digging into the soles of your feet, watching you squirm from the relief of his touch.

He shook away the thoughts that invaded his mind, “Yes? Did something come up?”

You lightly shook your head, “I was just checking up on you, are you staying overtime again?”

Hiromi glanced at the clock, he barely realized that it was almost time for him to call it a night; however, he did want to stay a bit longer to get his papers in order.

“Yeah, I still have some things to finish up.”

Your cheeks softly puff up forming a slight pout, “But you haven’t taken a break yet, Higuruma”

His heart thumped against his ribs as he saw that cute expression, he let out a breathy chuckle, “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay though—“

‘I might do something stupid if you do’

“I don’t mind staying. I can help out even, so you don’t have to stay so long.”

“You really don’t have to— it’s getting dark, it’s best if you go home—“

You waved your hand, your nails glistening through the dim light, “No,No— I don’t mind at all! Maybe you can get some good night’s rest after this.”

Reluctantly, Hiromi agreed for you to stay— not that he would really put up a fight to not have you in his office. He had to use all his mental strength to keep himself professional, he could not let himself do something reckless with you. Though, the sway of your hips was hypnotic as you sat yourself down by the coffee table. The minutes passed between the two, Hiromi would take notes on every document; his fingers gliding with the high lighter with such precision that made him even more attractive.

Your eyes would more often than not glance at him, seemingly sending a message that he didn’t want to believe. They would run up and down his form, noting every detail of him: his white button up that clung deliciously on his pecks, his tie was loosen enough for him to concentrate but you wanted nothing more to grip on it tightly— you bit your lip, focusing back on organizing the files.

The only thing filling the silence was the ticking from the clock that was set in the corner of his office, the movement of the hand only intensified the desire that the two of you were feeling. From an outside perspective, it was so obvious that the two of you wanted to bang each other in that office; however, it seemed that it was the two of you who were holding back.

Hiromi would look up from his documents, tired eyes would find your form like it had been doing all along; moreover, they would trace your neck, the smooth skin untouched— sensitive even. He was captivated the way your plump lips pursed out in concentration or even contemplation. Once they got to your eyes, his body jumped as your pupils stared into his.

“Something the matter, Higuruma?”

There was a honey essence to the words that lathered your lips, it only made Hiromi try to push down the desire that formed within himself. He moved some documents absentmindedly, needing to make it seem like he had been busy,

“Ah… I’m fine, fine. Did you need something?”

He couldn’t help but cringe at his dumb question, though it couldn’t be helped with you confronting him. Hiromi followed your gaze as it trailed from his lower stomach to his face in a slow torturous manner; he tried fixing himself up, fearing that he looked disheveled. But, his movements stopped as he began to realize your desire— finally accepting his own as well.

Your fingers play with the corners of the stacks of papers, your plump lips still pursed out in feign innocence, “Perhaps…”

He gulped down the anticipation that was building up in his throat, but his voice came out in a sort of husk, “what do you need?”

You pushed yourself off from the coffee table, your body flowing up like water. His eyes were fixed on the way your skirt wrinkled up and down with the friction of your thighs, watching as you came before him. As you stop right in front of him with half lidded eyes, one foot holding more weight that the other; for the first time in ages, Hiromi felt utterly small.

You leaned forward, resting your palms on each of the arm rests; his hooked nose barely touching yours, he could could count every speck of color in your pupils. The vulnerable position made him repeat his question,

“What….what do you need…?”

You inch closer, rubbing your nose lightly on his, sharing your minty breath with his, “You.”

.

.

.

Loong strokes of his tongue lapped over your clothed pussy, damping the layers that kept the two of you apart. Hiromi could feel the warmth of your thigh as it lightly placed itself over his shoulder; locking him in place. After a few moments of stimulation, he poked out his head from your skirt.

“Let me taste you… please, let me— I need it”

Your eyes glance down at him, glimmering with mischief, “Undress me then”

Hiromi felt his throat go dry, his hands hesitantly moved toward the waistband of your stockings first; his fingers hook onto it, pulling it down slowly. The color of your thighs finally revealed themselves from the mesh stockings, arousing him even more. Removing the last inches of the mesh, he threw the fabric behind him before diving into your scent once more.

The hardness of his nose nuzzled itself deeper into your panties, which made a soft sigh escape your lips. Your hand grazed lightly over his gelled hair, praising him with your touch. You could feel the sweat from the tips of his fingers as they pull down the delicate lace you wore; exposing the trail of your slick connecting from your panties to your cunt.

“Fuck,” a low needy groan escaped his lips.

Not even giving you time to breathe, he began to work his jaw as his tongue began to twist inside you—spreading your folds to taste that sweet honey. Hiromi grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing your hips into his face to let his tongue hit deeper inside you; you had to grip onto his wooden desk to not fall off.

“You taste so delicious… so fucking tasty—mm!”

He could tell you were close, your walls began to pulse with every lap— you even gripped his hair tightly, nails slightly digging in.

“Higu—-fuck! Yr’ so messy,” you rolled your hips into his face needing to feel that big nose hit your clit in the right way. You could hear the rough groans and gulps as Hiromi drank your slick. You could feel the way his lips mouthed your pussy, practically eating your insides.

Hiromi pushed himself off from his knees, the top of his lip having a glimmer of your cum that he didn’t care to wipe away.

“Lemme fuck you… please, let me put it in—Sweetheart, I’m aching for you”

He pushed his hips against your wet cunt, making you feel his throbbing member through the fabric of his pants. Every grind of his harden cock against your wet core left a beautiful stain on his pants. Your nails gripped onto his jacket which he quickly shed off.

“Yes… Yes, Higuruma—Put it in…”

“Hiromi,” he quickly corrected, needing to break away from their professional barrier. He watched as the anticipation in your eyes deepened with the added closeness.

“Hiromi. Cute name”

You leaned in to kiss him, which Hiromi was gladly willing to accept; his tongue slipping inside your mouth, lathering his wet muscle against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers rubbing circles at the soft skin of his neck.

The two of you needed to be even closer than this.

.

.

.

“Hiromi—fuck! Hiromi!”

Your high pitch whines echoed around the room accompanied by the slap of his hips against yours ass. Hiromi gripped onto your sides as he rammed his cock into your pussy, stretching you out nicely. Every time he pulled back, he could hear that lovely squelching cry that came out from your cunt. He liked the way your nails dug onto the end of the desk, leaving marks onto the expensive wood. Every buck from his hips left your body moving forward by his rhythm.

“So tight—-Sweetheart, you’re killing me”

Your gummy walls kept sucking him in even deeper. His hands were all over you: caressing the side of your breasts, caressing the fat of your ass—- each touch left you so needy for him. Bent over the desk, lying over the cold wood; you could feel his throbbing tip hit your walls from different angles causing more cries of pleasure. Your knees buckled as they began to grow numb, you could even hear the droplets of your cum hitting the wooden floor of the office.

“Hiromi—we’ll… we’ll ruin the floor! I’m dripping all over…”

Hiromi couldn’t care about the floor, he leaned forward to kiss the back of your neck, “Stop thinking about the floor. Focus on me, doll.”

Your pussy lips clung onto him, suctioning him in permanently. Tears filled your eyes as his broad chest squished your body against the desk. His teeth grazed your ears so teasingly that it made you tighten. His thrusts began to grow more rough and quick; kissing your cervix with such haste that made you beg for more.

“I-I am focused on you! Fuck, Hiromi!”

His breeding balls smacked harshly against your now puffy lips, every thrust spilled out more of your connecting slick. You clenched your teeth tightly as you felt yourself lose more control.

Hiromi brought his hand to grab your breast from under your bra, his fingers squished against your warm flesh and the cold wood. His fingers swirled your harden nipple: pinching and pulling that made your mouth drool. The sensation caused your pussy to slurp his cock, your hot slick burned against his sensitive skin. He could feel his muscle coil as hot cum began to spurt slightly. Every fleck teased your insides to wanting more.

“H-Hiromi! Hiro—guh! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You pushed your hips toward his own, with his final thrusts came to action. Hiromi’s balls squeezed tightly as his cum painted your gummy walls; your cervix expanded against your organs. You could feel your belly bulging against the wooden desk, causing a nice press. His body was atop of yours, keeping your hips locked in place to take every last drop of his seed.

A low groan erupted from his throat, “Sweetheart….mm, you were so good for me”

His fingers lightly grab your face, which was already buzzing from his touch; his lips softly pressed against yours, aching to feel your plump lips once more. You could barely comprehend what was going on, but your lips moved against his with passion that made you understand that you were his.

Your flutter shut— brain was already melted, but your body continued its dance with him.

[choivae]

ᝰ.ᐟ bf!toji who hates seeing you cry until he makes you sob during sex ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni

bf!toji who acts like nothing bothers him, but he secretly notices every little change in your mood. he knows exactly how sensitive you are and treats your feelings like something fragile, even if he tries to act casual about it.

bf!toji is the type to drop his tough guy act the second your bottom lip starts shaking. if you two are watching a sad movie and a pet dies, or if you just had a terrible day and drop your cup on the floor—he's right there. he won't tease you. he’ll just pull you against his chest, let you ruin his shirt with your tears, and rub your back until you stop crying. he genuinely hates seeing you sad.

bf!toji who is completely caught off guard the first time it happens. you’re sitting on his lap, wrapped around him, completely lost in the moment. one of his big, rough hand is holding your hips, keeping you close, while he kisses your neck and slowly moves his thick digits inside your pussy, finding a rhythm that takes your breath away.

bf!toji stops completely the second he hears a small, shaky sniffle. he goes totally stiff under you. he stops moving his fingers and pulls back from your neck, his dark eyes wide and worried as he holds your face. seeing tears running down your cheeks scares him a little.

"hey... look at me. what's wrong? did i hurt you?" his voice is rough and actually panicked. "tell me, do you want me to stop?"

bf!toji watches you whine softly because he stopped. you shake your head, hiding your face in his shoulder and crying out the truth: "n-no, don't stop... it just—it feels too good, ji. i can't help it."

bf!toji freezes, taking in what you just said. hearing that you aren't crying from pain, but because he is making you feel that good? a switch flips in his brain and the panic disappears, replaced by a huge rush of excitement.

bf!toji becomes totally obsessed with this—knowing he can make you lose control just by touching you makes his ego go through the roof. the sweet boyfriend who hates to see you cry in public completely disappears behind closed doors. in bed, your tears mean he's doing a good job.

bf!toji gets really smug and loves to tease you about it. he’ll purposely slow down, touching the exact spot that makes you crazy, watching your eyes fill with tears while he smirks.

"look at you," he’ll whisper, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "crying already? you're so sweet for me. keep going, let me see how good it feels."

bf!toji loves to push you over the edge by building the friction until you can't take it. he’ll pin your wrists above your head, spreading your legs wide so he can look right at you while he slides all the way inside. every time he thrusts deep and hits your sweet spot, a fresh wave of tears leaks from your eyes, and he just stares down at you with a dark, heavy grin, loving how loud you gasp and sob under him.

bf!toji who will change positions just to make you cry harder. he'll flip you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up high so he can slide in from behind. the angle is deep and intense, and as he grips your waist hard enough to leave marks, you're burying your face in the pillows to muffle your crying. he'll lean down, his chest pressing against your back, and talk right into your ear.

"baby, let me hear it—turn your head and look at me—god, look at how wet your face is just because i'm stretching you out like this."

bf!toji decides that if you aren't crying by the end of the night, he didn't try hard enough. it becomes a game to him. he will deliberately push you over the edge, using his dick and his dirty mouth to keep you completely overwhelmed until you're shaking and crying in his arms.

bf!toji who will actually praise you for crying. while he's holding you tight and making love to you, listening to you sob, he’ll lean down to kiss your wet cheeks and growl, "that's it, gooood girl. cry for me."

[torusdigicam]

ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅɪᴄᴋ!

18+

synopsis: For as long as you’ve dated Toji Fushiguro, you’ve come to realize how much of a massive perv he is…

tags:perv!toji fushiguro x fem!shy!reader,smut, fingering, slightly tit/nipple play, squirting, groping, slight dub con but like not really idk

a/n:mmmmm tojiiii🤤🤤also! my requests are open! So start sending them in! If I find them interesting I’ll do it!!

You were peacefully lying in bed watching something on the TV. You were all comfy, finished showering about an hour ago, smelling like your signature scent. You were allllll snuggled up…until the other side of the bed started to dip and lean over. A mass creating a strong sigh. “hey princess.” Toji. His hand snakes over your hips, his curling perfectly into you hip bone. “All comfy?”

You love him you do! But Toji is always on a different level compared to other stereotypical boyfriends. His hand never remained at his sides. Ass,tits,hips anything, nothing is safe. He did it front of his friends, his family, your family. If you were there, bet your ass his hand was somewhere where it shouldn’t. Giving it a good squish or squeeze.

You’ve tried to keep him in control. Wearing more layered clothes and less revealing clothes, stopped bending over in front of him. The works basically but nothing would work. I guess you took it as a plus. He thinks everything you do no matter what state you’re in, is extremely sexy and hot to him.

Your underwear would even go missing for days or shirts you’ve worked out in would disappear from the dirty clothes basket. And or, they reappear all sticky or crusty. You knew who the culprit was, not like he cared enough to even care.

“Yes Toji, let’s keep it that way.” You grumbled the last part. His hips shifted against your ass, his big hands—almost the size of your head slowly slide down to your waistband of your shorts. His fingers lightly treading against your cunt. You whimpered as you gripped his wrist. The movie went on without you both. “Toji…please..”

His other hand glided towards your breast. Cupping below the hilt. His fingers lightly grazing your nipple. Your mouth began to dry up, and whimpers being clogged up into your throat. “What? Can’t love my girl anymore?”

“N-no, Toji you’re g-mhm! groping me!” You whined out. His fingers near your pussy dipped even lower beyond your shorts, his finger tips tickling your clit. You yelped out and threw your head back against his shoulder. His grin was wide, the scar on his lip curving with it. “There’s my sweet girl, yea?” You let out a grunt as your legs uncontrollably curled outward.

His hands cupping your tits flicked your left nipple, causing even more overstimulation. Your body jolted and squirmed as his fingers mingled with your clit his middle finger sssliidddinngg down to the entrance of your pussy. “ngh!Toji please!”

“Please what? I don’t get it?” Toji mocks your lonely plea.

“I want you to—fuck! I want you to finger me!” You yelped out loud. Toji chuckled deeply, you feel the baritone and the vibration in his chest. His finger snaked into your entrance. Slowly swirling around your gummy and sticky walls. You kissed his neck as you moaned into his mouth. The scar on his lips grazed yours as your hands traced his abs. “You’re such a perv you know that right?” You told him. Toji’s hand on your tits grasped your tit harsh. “Me? You’re the one screaming and crying on my fingers. You know how you get when you hop on this dick—”

You slapped his chest teasingly but, making your boyfriend speed up his finger menstruations. Your moans became harsher and longer. Your head thrown back even further in his shoulder. “I-I oh fuck! Gonna cum! G-gonna cum?!” You screamed out. Your body was warmer than ever, tears threatening to roll down your face. “You wanna cum baby? After calling me a perv? I think you owe me something, hm?”

With your orgasm creeping close within your body, your tummy churning in the right possible places. You sallowed your pride and—

“I’m—ugh! Sorry!!” You screamed

Toji’s hands moved faster as you cried out and gripped his biceps. Clear liquid squirted out your hole with your mouth let out the most intense breath and screams. “Good girl, that’s it.” Toji coos at you. After the waves of your orgasm stopped crashing into your soul, his fingers slid out of you. You laid against his shoulder, legs slightly twitching. “You ass. I just showered…fuck…”

“You’ll live princess.” Toji says as he sucks on his squirt and cream covered hand.

want more fics? click the tags!

[lolnothankyouplease]

mdni 18+

it’s possible i’ve begun to think about clark never wanting you to do anything during sex, not wanting you to have any work except coming. you try to fuck back onto him while you’re face down, ass up? no, he’s holding you tight and saying “tell me how you want it, baby, don’t need to work for it. just tell me. harder? faster?” you try to get your mouth on his cock? no, he’s guiding you back up to his lips with a hand on your jaw. you try to ride him? no, he’s thrusting up from under you, practically bouncing you on his hips from the force he puts behind his thrusts.

maybe, once, he’s got you in missionary and you lift your hips a little so he hits just the right place inside you that sends your head spinning. he notices that you’re using your tummy muscles to lift yourself, meaning you’re not completely relaxed. he huffs, kisses your mouth once, then sits up on his knees and pulls you close to him by your thighs, holding the weight of your lower body so he can hit that spot inside you with ease and so you can relax into it.

it probably even happens when he’s eating you out, you try to rock against his face so he can enjoy a little more and not be so focused on the rhythm, but he grips your hips to still your movements then immediately matches the pace and intensity you were just going at.

[marvel-hiddles-stark]

Keep It Quiet

summary: after several long days spent on the kent farm, you and clark are a little…pent up.

tags & cw: 18+ MINORS PISS OFF, fem afab reader, established relationship (engaged), slight breeding kink, p in v sex (protected for once!!), exhibitionism (kind of?), f masturbation, the squeaky ass bed is the villain here 

wc: 6.6k

a/n: this is kinda ass ngl. anyway unrelated but how are my fellow kingdon truthers feeling after today…what a fucking rollercoaster. anyways hope yall enjoy!!

want some more clark content? Check out my clark masterlist!

You’d been trying to suppress it all week. Truly, you had. It wasn’t your fault that Clark looked stupidly attractive in flannel, with sweat beading at his hairline and slipping beneath the collar of his t-shirt. It wasn’t your fault that his Ma and Pa had raised him right, that he helped with dinner and folded everyone’s laundry when it was finished drying on the clothesline. You couldn’t be held responsible for what happened between your thighs whenever you watched him complete miscellaneous tasks around the house, fixing whatever appliance or squeaky hinge that had been nagging Ma for the past several weeks like the perfect fucking son he was. 

So, really, you weren’t at fault for the way your kisses began lingering a bit longer than what was appropriate for his childhood home. The way your hand regularly found his thigh every night beneath the dinner table, daring to get progressively higher with each passing day. 

It was inevitable. A means to an end. A festering desideratum that was growing increasingly difficult to ignore. 

It was affecting Clark too, you could feel it. His hugs were longer. He hovered around you more than usual. Clark’s touches were always meaningful, so when he began squeezing your hips or shoulders as he slipped by you in the kitchen or living room, you knew there was intent behind it. 

It didn’t help that this was your first time visiting the Kents as his fiance. The knowledge that you were about to be married certainly didn’t help matters. Clark, along with his sweet, endearing, oh-so-oblivious parents had already been teasingly referring to you as “Mrs. Kent”, and it was more than enough to make you insane. 

For his parents’ sake, you sincerely hoped your joint desperation wasn’t as glaringly obvious to them as it was to you. Though, if the sly smiles on Ma’s face whenever she noticed the pathetically longing stares you two exchanged was any indication, you weren’t being as subtle as you thought.

Growing up, Ma had very strict rules about Clark’s girlfriends, as he’d informed you previously. She was the sweetest woman you’d ever met, if not a little old-fashioned by way of social standards (Clark’s gentlemanly charm had to come from somewhere). Which of course meant that every partner of Clark’s who spent the night at the Kent household was required to sleep in a separate bedroom. 

“As long as you’re stayin’ under my roof,” she had teased, waving a wooden spoon in mock threat. “Those are the rules. No bed sharin’ till you’re married.” 

When Clark was in high school and college, that usually meant he took the sofa while his girlfriend took his room. Back then, the spare bedroom in the Kent household had been used predominantly for extra storage, mostly for seasonal decorations and other delicate items Ma and Pa didn’t want stored in the barn. 

Recently, though, the Kents had cleaned out the space. Its “restoration” had become a bit of a passion project for Pa, who was always happiest when he had something to keep his hands busy.

Clark had inquired about it once when you were both in town visiting. He’d spotted the cans of paint in the hallway, to which Ma replied with the coolness of a cucumber and the subtlety of an elephant. 

“Just preparin’ for when we have kiddos in the house again.”

You choked on your sweet tea, and looked over at Clark to find that his blush had climbed all the way to his ears. 

“Ma,” he bemoaned. She only winked. 

One of Ma’s friends owned a ranch on the other side of town, and had introduced her to the wonders of Facebook Marketplace. Such began the spending spree that would result in brand spankin’ new (secondhand) furniture for the newly redone bedroom once Pa had finished spackling and painting. 

Clark fretted endlessly over the fact that his parents were lugging around heavy furniture on their own, and would regularly speed back to Smallville to help them if he had the spare time. When you came to visit this time around, the guest bedroom was the first place Ma had dragged you both off to, eager to show off her finds. 

“Ain’t it beautiful? Couldn’tve cost me more than a hundred-and-fifty some bucks. John’s good friends with Frank down at the hardware store in town, so we got a good deal on the paint, too. What was the shade, hon? Manchester tan, somethin’ or other? Anyway, I think it turned out pretty darn good.” 

“It looks great, Ma,” Clark complimented with a genuine smile. 

“Don’t it? Figured it would be nice not havin’ to make your poor fiance sleep on that rickety ol’ twin bed.”

There it was—the subtle confirmation that you were still expected to sleep in separate rooms. Which you would, because you respected your soon-to-be in-laws, and it wouldn’t be for much longer anyways. 

“It really does look incredible,” you agreed, filling the silence. “The wonders of Marketplace.” 

“Trouble now is gettin’ her to stop,” Pa called from the living room. “We got a crap ton of new patio furniture and nowhere to put it all!” 

“Oh, hush,” Ma scolded, and you both laughed. 

It was on day five that things became borderline unbearable. The Kents had invited some old friends over for a cookout and a bonfire. Some of the older couples’ kids had grown up alongside Clark, many of whom already had spouses and families of their own. Meaning, there were several young children in attendance, which thrilled Clark, who had been honest with you from the start about wanting a family of his own someday. 

It made perfect sense—he was incredible with kids of all ages, something you’d known for a while, having seen it secondhand on TV whenever he donned the cape to visit children’s hospitals or homeless shelters. 

Experiencing it firsthand, though? Your fucking ovaries were about to explode. 

Pa had bought some marshmallows for the kids to make s’mores, and Clark had somehow been designated the role of official stick-gatherer. You watched the kids—ranging from kindergarten to late elementary school age—follow him around like ducklings, giggling and laughing when Clark made a show of climbing all the way up an oak tree to fetch the ‘perfect stick’ for roasting marshmallows. 

One of the children, an adorable brown-haired little boy, shyly offered his first marshmallow—which was burnt to a crisp—to Clark, who accepted it with a broad smile. 

“Thanks, buddy. Is this for me?” 

His head bobbed. “Sorry. It burnt a little.” 

“Oh, that’s alright. It’s still gooey underneath. Here, watch.” 

You watched as Clark slid the charred, ashy part of the marshmallow off to reveal its perfectly melted, warm center. He sucked the mallow into his mouth, having to double down on his sticky digits as the residual bits clung to his fingers. You politely forced yourself to look away. 

The rest of the night, Clark had been seated right next to you as the adults exchanged work stories and life updates while the kids ran around chasing fireflies. Inevitably, there were more than a few prying questions shot in Clark’s direction about his interviews with Superman, which always made you grin, even if only himself and his parents knew the reason behind it. 

At some point, Clark’s arm draped around your shoulder as you rested your legs in his lap. With company around, he’d been forced to put on his hypnoglasses, but you certainly weren’t complaining. The firelight danced across his face and in the lens of his glasses, which you took every opportunity to push up his nose with a soft smile, leaning forward to peck his lips every so often. 

Mercifully, having both older couples and young children in attendance meant the night was called off relatively early, around 8pm. You both assisted with cleanup before settling in the living room to catch up on the news. Ma and Pa turned in shortly thereafter, pressing kisses to both of your foreheads before vanishing down the hallway. 

Feeling particularly greedy, you stole the chance to break the “appropriate distance” the two of you had been sitting on the sofa and cuddled up to Clark’s side with a long sigh. 

“Good day?” you ask casually. 

“Mhm,” he answers, fingertips brushing up and down your shoulder. You idly watch the TV for a few more minutes, toying with Clark’s fingers in your hand, already imagining the ring that would soon match yours. 

The quiet sounds lulled you into a state of blissful exhaustion; his parents doing their nighttime routine, the crickets chirping through the open window, the low conversation from the television, playing a gameshow of some sort. 

After a few moments of silence, you snuck a glance over the sofa, peeking to see if his parents’ door had shut yet. Clark followed your gaze curiously, about to ask what you were looking at, when you pinched his chin between your fingers and brought your mouth to his. 

A pleasant hum rumbled from the back of his throat as he immediately returned the kiss. His hand cradled the side of your neck, fingers brushing against your thumping pulse as you kissed, deep and slow. 

You part for air, and Clark’s mouth trails along your jaw, unhurried and without much finesse, seemingly content just to be touching you. Your eyes once again land on the closed door of his parents’ bedroom, weighing the risk before making your decision and swinging a leg over his lap. 

Clark, clearly a little surprised, laughs nervously as his hands find your hips. “Honey,” he warns. “What are you—” 

“Shh,” you hush him with a smirk and a finger to his lips, before kissing him again and carding your fingers through his soft curls. 

He hums in bliss, grip tightening on your hips before his hands travel up and down your sides. “It feels so good to kiss you,” he whispers into your mouth. 

Your breathing hitches, desire roaring to life deep in your belly, demanding attention. 

“Yeah,” you agree softly. 

You kiss for as long as you dare, tongues slipping into hot mouths and hands staying mostly PG; Clark wisely keeps you planted a safe distance away from his pelvis. 

When you finally part, panting for air, you sit there for several long moments. The chorus of sounds has changed, slightly. Clark’s heavy breathing intermingled with your own; the subtle-soft rustle of his palms against your blouse as he caresses you. The crickets still chirp, reminding you of the hour, and you reluctantly open your eyes. 

“We should probably go to bed,” you say, though you don’t mistake the sadness in your voice for anything other than it is—a thorn in your side for not being able to do anything other than kiss. “Ma said something about the Farmer’s Market tomorrow.” 

Clark’s head tips back against the couch, his blue eyes drowning in a sea of black as he catalogues the look on your face. He licks his lips in consideration, and your traitorous core flips in arousal at the sight. 

“Yeah,” he eventually—reluctantly—agrees. 

You drag yourselves down the hallway, taking turns in the bathroom as you prepare to weather the storm of spending another dreadful night apart. 

The Kent family home is small; a three bedroom, one bathroom ranch that had little room for much more than its Midwestern charm. It was an older house too, built by Pa’s grandfather in the 1920s; it had been refurbished, just enough to keep up with the times, but the bones of the house were old. Creaky floorboards and chipped paint. An extremely temperamental HVAC system. And, of utmost concern to you and Clark, thin walls.

All the bedrooms lined one hallway near the back of the house; the bathroom and his parents’ room on the left, the guest room on the right, and Clark’s bedroom tucked at the end of the hall. Everyone was snug as a bug in a rug, as the saying went.

Lucky you.

The air between you tonight feels inexplicably more charged than usual, and you have a sinking suspicion the make-out session you’d initiated had something to do with it. 

“Goodnight,” you say softly, turning to face Clark from the doorway to the guest bedroom.

Clark blinks at you in consideration, before leaning down to give you one final kiss. It’s soft and almost unbearably slow. His hand cradles your jaw, thumb brushing your skin. Your lips hover, brushing one another before either of you can bring yourselves to pull away. The pad of his thumb tugs gently at your lower lip. 

“Goodnight,” he whispers. 

And then he’s gone, floorboards creaking beneath his feet as he retreats into his bedroom at the end of the hallway. You take a deep breath, needing a moment to collect yourself before shutting your own door and pressing your forehead against it. Get a grip. 

You try to distract yourself by doing some light reading before bed, just enough to make your eyes heavy. Of course, it doesn’t work, and an hour after you’ve put your book down and turned off all the lights, you can’t sleep. 

Your mind is consumed by the memory of Clark twisting open a jar of strawberry jam for Ma earlier today, and the how he’d sucked some of the jam off of his thumb. Then it flashes to the effortless way he’d carried several 400-pound hay bales over his head, across acres of farmland, all so his Pa could save some diesel on the tractor as you watched from the kitchen window. Then you remember how he’d immediately gulped down two full glasses of his Ma’s homemade lemonade, watching the condensation wet his fingers and the way his throat muscles moved as he swallowed. 

It’s too much. Too much temptation packed into a 1,300 square foot ranch, in the shape of 240 pounds of farm-bred Kryptonian muscle. Five unbearable days with only fleeting touches and lingering kisses, until tonight, when you got a taste of something more. You two had gone far longer without sex—you know this logically—but being in such close proximity and watching him around his parents and interacting with children has done irreparable damage. 

Your hand is slipping beneath your pajama shorts without you even making the conscious decision. 

Fuck, the way he’d smelled tonight, like burning wood and smoke, his skin warm and almost glowing as a result of spending all day in the sun. Around the campfire, you couldn’t help but caress his five o’clock shadow at any chance you got, imagining the scruff of his stubble chafing your inner thighs. 

Clark loved to eat pussy. 

Your fingers easily find your aching clit, but the touches are all wrong. Your fingers aren’t rough enough, aren’t large enough, can’t get the right angle. 

After tonight, it was impossible not to imagine him with your own children in a very near future. The thought of him cradling an infant in his massive arms; a toddler climbing all over his back, sitting on his equally massive shoulders. You weren’t even sure it would be possible to conceive with him yet, but fuck were you content to imagine it. 

You’re dripping already; it was second nature. A Pavlovian response. Your fingers are a poor substitution for the real thing, but it would have to do. He’s so close and so fucking far, and it makes your blood hot. 

“Clark,” you fail to bite back the weak moan, your hips shifting around on the bed as you curl your fingers. God, a part of you hopes he’s awake, knowing he could probably hear the way you’re touching yourself, moaning his name, nearly in tears from how much you need him. 

It’s when you’re finally on the precipice of a very underwhelming orgasm that you hear the same creaking floorboards and freeze. Your ears hone in on the sound, trying to brush it off as being Ma or Pa getting up to use the bathroom, which wasn’t uncommon. But the gait is undeniably heavier, and far too careful to be either of his parents. 

Then you hear the doorknob turn. 

You twist in the sheets, hastily pulling your hand out of your pajama shorts. You blink blearily at the door, watching as it creaks open slowly to reveal none other than your 6’4” fiance. 

“Clark? E-everything okay?” you call out in a whisper as he carefully shuts the door, wincing at the way it squeaks. You hear a click, and your stomach swoops with the realization that it’s the lock. 

He turns to you, a looming, impressive shadow in the darkness of the guest room. He’s at the foot of the bed in two large steps, clambering onto the double-size mattress. The sudden shift of weight makes the mattress groan, a deafening sound in the stillness of night, and your eyes widen in surprise. 

“Baby, what are you doing?” 

“I think I should be asking you that,” is all the explanation you get before Clark’s lips are back over yours. The kiss is slow, but it’s filthy. Nothing like the ones you shared earlier on the sofa. All tongue and lips and teeth as he hovers over you. Your legs kick out of the sheets, instinctively locking around his lower back, and you barely bite back a moan as he settles some of his weight onto you. 

“Gosh, you’re unbelievable,” he breathes into you. “Touchin’ yourself like that when I’m barely a wall away. Could’ve just asked me, baby.” 

You shudder, and the arousal is a burn that rips through your body. “Oh god, Clark. We- we really shouldn’t- your parents—” 

“I know, baby. I know, I’m sorry. But I couldn’t take it anymore. You’ve been drivin’ me insane all week, sweetheart.” He slid his hands up your chest, groping your tits over your pajama top. “I…I heard you. Jolted me right awake; thought I was dreamin’ at first. But then I heard your sweet little moan, the little wet sounds of your pussy. Your heartbeat, honey. Like a little jackrabbit.”

You tip your head back against the pillow, breathing hard. “C-Clark, god, you can’t say things like that—” 

“I know how much you want it,” he breathes, hips bearing down between yours, and shit, he’s fully hard. You haven’t felt him like this in over a week, and it’s overwhelming. “I want it too.” 

Dark and quiet as it is, everything feels amplified; despite the very real threat of his parents overhearing, it’s like the two of you are in a vacuum, cut off from the rest of the world. You feel Clark everywhere, and yet it’s not enough to satisfy the insatiable beast that is frothing from between the cage of your thighs, desperate for reprieve. 

Of course, wanting what you realistically can’t—or shouldn’t—have has only made matters worse. 

“Baby,” Clark pants as you run your hands down his back, slipping beneath his soft t-shirt. “I can- oh gosh, I can s-smell how wet you are.” 

“Fucking hell,” you curse, and kiss him again. “I want you so bad, Clark. But this…this fucking bed is probably older than both of us combined, and it’s so loud, I—” 

“I know,” he responds between kisses. “I know, honey.” 

“I- maybe we could- you could just use your fingers? And I could do the same?” you suggest, though it’s weak, even to your own ears. You know Clark won’t object to anything you offer, but it was crystal clear what he really wanted. What you both wanted.

Clark lets out a whine, low in the back of his throat, concealing it in the crook of your neck. “Mmm. If- I mean, that’s- that’s probably the smart thing to do…”

“But not what we really want,” you finish, brushing your nose against his cheek. 

“No,” he agrees, before licking into your mouth. The soft, wet sound of your mouths causes your head to spin, heavy with desire. You can feel the blood rush in your ears, down the length of your neck, flushing the surface of your skin. 

“Baby,” you whisper when you part for breath, voice shaking with a mix of longing and crumbling restraint. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his hips flush against yours. Your fingers pull through his hair as your pelvises build a steady grind, slow enough so as not to cause the bed to squeak but enough to drive you insane as his stiff cock ruts against your clothed pussy. “I- I can’t fucking take it anymore. I need you.” 

Clark shudders, mouthing beneath your jaw. “I need you too, honey.” His lips hover over yours, words an urgent, needy whisper. “Wanna give you my cock so much, sweetheart. So, so much.” 

“Oh god, Clark,” your voice shatters around his name. Your pussy flutters at the mere idea of having his cock inside you. You need him so bad you could cry. “Seeing you w-with those kids today…” 

Clark groans instantly, understanding the implication. “Yeah? Imagining they were ours?” 

“Mmm. Yes.” 

“I know, I was too,” he admits, sucking a bruise into your skin that you will definitely regret in the morning. “You’d like that, huh? Makin’ a family with me?” 

“Fuck, I- you know I would, Clark.” 

“Gosh, yes. I’d give it to you in a heartbeat, my love.” 

“Please,” you whine, and you truly can’t remember a time where you’ve been this desperate for sex. “I’ll book the fucking appointment tomorrow. Get my—mm, fuck—get my IUD taken out.” 

The sound that escapes Clark’s throat is a mixture of pity and pain. “Oh gosh. honey, I- you’re not being fair.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” you whimper. 

“We- maybe we can just go slow?” he suggests. “So slow, I promise. Won’t even put it all the way in. It won’t be loud that way, if we go slow. We can be quiet, if we…if we’re careful.” 

“I don’t want it slow,” you breathe, and that’s the entire problem, isn’t it? Clark lets out another low-pitched whine, and says your name like a curse. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy, too,” you continue, pausing to give him a slow, deep kiss. “I just…I just wanna fuck, Clark.”

Your hand snakes between your flush bodies, slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and bypassing his boxers completely. Clark jerks, burying his face in your shoulder with a sharp exhale. The heat and weight of him makes the burgeoning desire in your gut increase tenfold; he’s hot and thick and fully hard. Your goddamn mouth starts salivating like it’s competing with your sopping pussy for his attention. 

“W-we…we have to be c-careful, honey,” Clark repeats as he pumps slowly into your hands. That simple movement alone makes the mattress groan with the sound of shifting fabric. “I can…fu- baby, gosh- I can listen to make sure they don’t wake up, but I’ll have to focus. And this bed—” 

“Please,” you beg, heart pounding as you listen to his breathing increase the longer you stroke him. Your own restraint is falling apart at the seams; you’re about one Clark-moan away from throwing all caution to the wind. “Forget what I said earlier, I don’t care. I- please, Clark. I need you so bad.” 

“Honey, I- oh—” He’s cut off when your fist focuses furiously on the weeping head of his cock. 

“Do you want to come on my fist, or in my pussy?” you ask. You know you’re playing dirty, but you need him in you. Now. 

“Holy- th-that’s so mean,” he whines. 

You mouth at his jaw. “Clark Joseph Kent, if you don’t put your cock in me right fucking now—” 

“Good gosh, I- okay, okay.” He plants desperate kisses on your lips, firmly yanking your wrist away from his cock, desperate for a break. “Just- are you-” 

“I’m fine, Clark. More than ready. Please just…just fuck me,” you demand, nipping at his earlobe. 

“Okay. I- okay, gosh, hold on-” 

It’s a frantic tangle of limbs and swatting hands as you both try and wiggle free of as minimal clothing as necessary without jolting the bed too much. The comforter is thrown off the bed. You blindly yank Clark’s sweats and boxers down enough to fully free his cock, while he fumbles for the waistband of your sleep shorts, cursing sweetly as he struggles with the tie. It probably doesn’t help that you’ve started jerking him off again, smearing the resulting bead of pre-cum over his sensitive tip. 

“Stupid freaking-” 

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” you mutter, growing impatient. “Just rip it off, Clark.” 

“But you hate when I-” 

“Rip it.” 

He doesn’t need to be told a third time. The fabric snaps the second his fists close around the tiny strings, and even that small display of his strength makes your clit fucking throb. 

His fingers are on you the instant your shorts and panties are gone, rubbing messily over your folds. It’s likely for his own peace of mind, despite your insistence that you were adequately prepared for him. It feels good nonetheless, so you aren’t about to complain. 

“Oh, gosh,” he marvels, thick fingers circling your clit as he glances between you. “You’re soaked, honey. Even wetter than I thought.” 

“I told you,” you shudder. “Now fuck me.” Your hand, still on his cock, guides him to your waiting pussy, slipping the head through your labia and making you both moan softly. 

“Fuck,” Clark curses. 

“Clark Joseph,” you gasp, the profanity deliciously foreign coming from his tongue. “Did you just—”

“This is a serious matter,” Clark insists as he thrusts his hips torturously slowly. The head of his cock catches on your clit and another moan slips out of you. “See? That right there.” Your eyes widen when Clark’s palm moves to cover your mouth. “Gotta focus if we wanna be quiet.” 

His words only make you whimper, the sound mostly smothered against his hand. 

“Quiet,” he scolds again, but then he’s pushing in. The initial stretch burns, as it normally does (you definitely could’ve benefited from some extra lubrication, but desperate times call for desperate measures). However, the flicker of pain is quickly doused with sheer relief, like your body is sighing at the solace of finally getting him inside you. 

Clark’s hand abandons your mouth in favor of supporting his weight as he half-collapses onto his forearm. The first thrust of his hips tests the waters; a little overzealous on Clark’s side, succeeding in making the rickety old bed frame squeal once, loudly. You both hold stock-still, allowing you to acclimate to his size and him to listen intently for any signs of life in his parents’ room.

Clark looks down at you in silence. Nothing. 

You release your bated breath and drag him into a kiss. “Move,” you hiss, sounding like a total brat, but neither of you seem to care. 

Clark obliges, pumping his hips slower this time, the motion more fluid as he disperses his weight across his whole body rather than planting his knees on the mattress. 

It seems to be working, the sound of your joint heavy breathing being the loudest sound in the room. That is of course until you shift positions just slightly, and the fucking Marketplace-monstrosity of a bed frame groans loudly in protest. 

A huff of agitation escapes you. “Oh fuck that’s— it’s loud, Clark. Why is it so fucking loud?” 

“Shit,” he curses desperately. “Maybe- here, pull the sheets up—” 

“That’s not going to do anything!” 

“Well, I don’t know!” Clark exclaims in a whisper-yell. “I’m trying to help! I- oh gosh, honey, I can’t pull out of you now—” 

You lock your legs around him in warning. “Don’t you dare.” 

“I’m not, I’m not.” 

Your head flops back against the pillows in frustration. “Just…they’re still asleep, right?” 

Clark pauses to listen. “For now, yeah.” 

“So…” you can’t believe you’re about to suggest this. Morning-you is going to be so fucking embarrassed. “…just…just keep going, and stop if you hear them wake up.” 

Clark lets out a pained groan. “That’s easier said than done when I’m balls deep inside you, honey. I can’t focus on making you come and listening for the slightest rustle of awareness across the hallway.” 

You wiggle your hips, pulling another wounded sound from Clark’s chest. “Please,” you resort to begging, yet again. “Clark, I- I’m so sexually frustrated and I finally have your dick inside me and you’re just fucking- we’re not even- I can’t—” 

Clark must take pity on you, because he’s soothing you with quick pecks across your face and neck. “Honey, I know, I know. I’m sorry. Oh, my sweet girl. I’m sorry.” He starts moving again, the same slow, fluid movements as before. The bed squeaks beneath you, but it’s not too loud, you think. 

Clark continues, “I wish I could fuck you how you need, baby. But we gotta be quiet. Shhh, shhh. I know. Just try and take what I’m giving you. Want me to rub your little clit? Will that help?” 

You nod, only slightly horrified as you feel tears well in your eyes from the sheer frustration of it all. Clark coos praises and apologies into your ear as his fingers gently circle your swollen clit, but it’s not enough. 

Sure, it feels good, amazing even, but it’s not what you’d been craving. Not the itch you needed scratched. 

“Jus’ a little harder?” you beg, your voice a wet, sultry whisper against his ear as you bury your fingers in his hair. “Please? Please Clark?” 

He buries his groan against your chest, mumbling a slew of frustrated, mostly incoherent words that sound something like “gonna be the death of me” and “can’t handle when you beg me for it”. But then, abruptly, the pace changes yet again. The movement ceases, just for a moment. He shifts his weight above you. His hips snap—once, twice, thrice. Still slow, but firmer. Sharper. Deeper.

“Oh—” 

Anticipating your moan, his free hand flies back to your mouth, effectively cutting off the incriminating sound. He hushes you gently as his eyes bore down into yours. 

The bed is…well, it’s definitely making noise now. The box springs make their presence known, creaking with every forward motion. Unfortunately, you’re too cock-drunk to pay it much attention. 

At the very least, it’s not like the headboard is obnoxiously slamming against the wall. Just…if someone happened to pass by the door, it would probably be fairly obvious what was happening on the other side. Which, horrifically, turns you on even more. 

Of course, you know Clark would never let something like that actually happen—nor would you want it to—but the thought of it, the risk of it, makes your stomach twist around itself in arousal. The notion that he’s fucking you in his childhood home with his sleeping parents a stone’s throw away has you hornier than you thought humanly possible. 

The fingers on your throbbing clit speed up, and your eyes nearly roll back into your skull. 

“C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gotta come on this cock. Know you want to. Wanting me to make you a wife and a mommy in the same calender year, my greedy girl. All with my parents right down the hall, sound asleep. Gonna look them in the eyes tomorrow morning, honey? Knowin’ I snuck into your room just hours prior? That my cum was dripping down your thighs?” 

From behind his sweaty palm, a muted chorus of “yeah, yeah, yeah” punches out of you on the crest of every sharp thrust.

Clark smothers you; with his body and his words and his kisses, his tongue just beneath your ear, his forearms caging you beneath his broad frame. Your nails dig into his back for dear life, thighs tense around his hips as every ounce of your focus narrows in on the pleasure.

“Shhh, baby,” he whispers, breath hot and voice shaking. “I know it- I know it feels good, but you gotta be quiet. Can’t let you come if you can’t be quiet.” 

You need to come more than you need air to breathe, so you force your shaking body to obey, swallowing your own sounds and digging your nails further into his impenetrable skin.

“Yes, baby,” he praises. “There we go. Nice and quiet. Can I have my hand back, now?” 

You nod shakily, breathing fast and hard, as Clark leans in to kiss you. The fingers swirling over your clit make a ‘v’ as they slip down to stimulate your outer lips of your vulva. Your thighs twitch around his hips, signaling your rapidly-approaching release. 

“F-fuck, Clark,” you whine into his open mouth. “I- I can’t, I—” 

“Yes, baby. Right there. Let it happen. Come on my cock, baby. It’s yours.” 

You shatter with a high-pitched whine, one that Clark suffocates against his still-clothed chest as he quickly presses your face into his breast bone. Your pussy constricts around him, spasming uncontrollably as he works to prolong your high. 

“I know, baby. I know, I- oh, that- that…I c-can feel you around me, so tight…it’s g-gonna make me come, honey—” 

The hand not cradling your head fists into the pillow beside you. His sharp, jagged thrusts—the ones originally intended for your pleasure—change a final time, turning frantic in a way that signals his own impending orgasm. Beneath your writhing bodies, the bed groans and shifts. Surely the headboard rams against the wall at least once, maybe twice. You don’t keep track, solely focused on your hypersensitive cunt as it throbs and clenches around Clark, egging him on. 

“C-come inside me, baby,” you plead into his ear, like that’s even a question.

“Did you m-mean it?” he asks suddenly, catching you a bit off-guard. His voice shakes as his hips falter. 

“Mean what?” you barely get out. 

“What you said about…about starting a family?” 

The tenderness of the question hits you square in the chest, and suddenly the emotion in your eyes has an entirely different meaning. 

“Yes,” you breathe, kissing the side of his face. “I love you so much, Clark. I wanna make a baby with you, m-make a family together.”

He whimpers, shortly before biting down on your shoulder in a desperate attempt to keep quiet. His hips stutter and still, cock pressed as deeply inside your pussy as he can get at this angle. He comes hard, the deliciously bizarre sensation of his cum filling your pussy pulling a final, blissed moan from you. He finally stills above you, struggling to steady his breathing. 

“Golly. Sweetheart,” he exhales, and you both let out disbelieving chuckles. He pulls back to look at you, still catching his breath as you feel his cock soften inside of you. “Did we really just…” 

“Have sex under your parents’ roof with them sleeping just across the hall? Yes we did,” you say, trying not to let the post-orgasm regret pull you under. 

Clark laughs again, kissing you on the nose before nuzzling into your neck. You love it when he tries to tuck his massive frame into your body; it’s adorable. 

“Mm. Worth it.” 

You can’t help but agree. 

You spend a few quiet minutes catching your breath and coming down from your highs. You run your fingers through Clark’s hair, something you know he loves after sex. 

“Need’ta pee,” you protest tiredly when you feel him start to go slack above you. 

“Mmm. Yeah. Yeah, m’kay,” Clark says slowly, like his brain is still catching up. He rolls off of you and you search blindly for your underwear, settling instead on Clark’s boxers which are the first thing you stumble upon. You carefully slip to the bathroom, cringing a little at the feel of his cum sliding down your inner thighs. You clean yourself up and use the toilet, trying not to think too hard about his Ma and Pa, sleeping soundly in the room next door. 

When you return to the guest room, Clark holds up a finger, then presses it swiftly to his lips, eyes closing in focus. 

“What? What’s wrong?” you whisper, feeling more awake all of the sudden. You lock the door—just in case—and tiptoe back to the bed. 

“I think Ma woke up,” he whispers back as you climb into his waiting arms. “Probably heard you in the bathroom.” 

Despite yourself, you feel your cheeks heat. “Well…they get up all the time, right? It’s not uncommon to get up and pee in the middle of the night.” 

“No, it’s not,” he agrees with a yawn. “Just…I should head back to my room soon. Don’t wanna fall asleep and have’ta sneak out in the morning.” 

You giggle, “god, it’s like we’re in high school or something.” 

Clark smiles back. “Yeah.” 

You snuggle into his chest, pleased to find that he’d taken off his t-shirt, finally. You always appreciated the skin-to-skin contact when you slept. So does Clark, so you’re not surprised when his own hands reach for the hem of your pajama top and lift it over your head. 

He makes a satisfied sound and presses a single kiss to your sternum before you settle back on his chest. Clark lifts the sheets back over you both, fingers gliding down your back in soft lines. 

“Love you,” he whispers into your hair. 

“Love you too,” you respond. 

For now, you’re beyond content to lay in his arms, listening to his soft breathing and the strong thump-thump of his heart. 

~

You wake to the sound of the Kent’s rooster, announcing the wee hours of the morning. As you groggily emerge from slumber, a few more things begin to cloud your senses. Chiefly among them, the smell of bacon, wafting in from the kitchen. Mm. Delicious. And the weight of Clark’s arm, comfortably slung across your—

Wait. 

You shoot up in bed, waking Clark up in the process, who startles with a sleepy-eyed huff.

“Clark, oh my god,” you gasp. 

“Wha- what is it?” he asks groggily, rubbing at his eyes. 

“You fell asleep in bed!” you hiss, eyes wide with panic. And from the smell of it, his parents were already awake. Just perfect. 

“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. Do you think they noticed?!” you ask urgently, rooting around for your clothes on the floor. 

Clark relinquishes a deep sigh, leaning on his elbows as his head thunks back against the headboard in defeat. “Knowing my Ma, definitely.” 

“Oh my god,” you repeat, standing now. “She’s going to know that we- that you—” 

“Sweetheart, we’re engaged,” Clark reassures you. “And…adults, before that. She’s not that ignorant. And she won’t hate you if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just…a little, well. I guess it is a little, uh, mortifying.” 

Your head falls into your hands, and Clark has the audacity to chuckle. “Maybe she didn’t notice,” you say. “Maybe she hasn’t checked your room yet, and you can still—”

As if by divine intervention, a swift knock sounds at the door. 

“Breakfast’s ready, honey. Taters and eggs, and bacon fresh from the butcher.” 

“Oh, alright! Be out in a few, Ma. Thank you!” you call out, hoping you sound less shaky then you feel. Even if she hadn’t noticed yet, she definitely heard you talking to each other, and there’s no way you could explain that. 

Then, with an air of mischief lining her Midwestern twang, Ma adds, “tell Clark there’s plenty for him, too!"

masterlist

[yogichi]

Can Soldier Boy fan fiction PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP BEING INCEST/STEPCEST!!!!!!!!!!!! Him being a gross pervy old man - fine. Him being readers father? NO! Step father assault? NO!

[anislittlewh0re]

ᘏ hyperspermia!clark + cockwarming

tw. multiple creampies. mdni.

hyperspermia!clark who hates cockwarming for the sole reason that he just can't stop cumming inside you ! his condition combined with his strong kryptonian genes working to keep him painfully hard and swollen even as he blows load after sticky load inside your pussy while you sit perfectly still on his lap.

clark loves hates the creamy mess that drips down his shaft all the way down to his balls, a combination of your slick and all the cum he's spilled inside you from just feeling your warmth wrapped around each throbbing vein, swollen tight around his now aching cock.

"really ? I'm not even doing anything and you can't stop cumming like some loser, clarkie." you taunt, your voice syrupy sweet with condescension as you grind down against the base of him in tiny little circles that have clark panting beneath you as he groans, "stop, baby please I don't think I can cum anymo—"

"oh I know you can. it's all you're really good for anyway, isn't it ?" your words make clark's cock twitch excitedly as he suffers through another minor orgasm within your overstuffed pussy, his hips bucking upwards as his previous loads gush back out around his shaft.

god, he really did hate having to cum this much.

taglist : @kelbrave, @icebearcucumber, popeheywardssecretgf, @piinkcoke, @hufflepuff-n-fluff, @literallydo3eyed, @restinpaece, @baskinginthesilentworld, @knivesdoingcartwheels. dm or comment here to be added to the taglist.

[metropolistoday]

Clark with a lactation kink pleaseee :))))

I feel like he would be a bit hesitant at first and then super into it

(Absolutely love your work by the way 🥰🥰)

tysm <3 clark x fem!reader. 18+. word count approx: 1.1k

content: lactation kink. cockwarming. creampie.

you knew that look. you could practically hear the gears grinding in clark’s head as he tried to pretend to read an article on his ipad in the kitchen, quietly sipping at a warm steaming coffee. smiling to yourself, you stood up from the couch and purposefully took slow steps towards him. he definitely saw you, you could tell by the way his shoulders tensed with every inch you came closer. he was so terrified of his own thoughts he wouldn’t even look at you as you stepped into his space, the sweet scent of your milk filling the small gap between you two. what if you thought he was a creep? what if you thought he was weird? he thinks he’d probably die from embarrassment if you kink shame him.

“clark,” you murmured, leaning against the counter. “if you stare at the floor any harder you’re gonna burn a hole right through to our poor neighbours downstairs.”

he let out a breathless, flustered huff, blue eyes finally peeking up at you behind his glasses, a soft adorable frown pulled at his soft lips. embarrassed with shame and desire. “i…im sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick and low, “i-i..i didn’t mean to…i can just..hear how heavy you are and i..i shouldn’t be thinking about it.”

at his frown you immediately shake your head gently, you didn’t give him the chance to spiral into his guilt. instead you reached up, catching his glasses and prying them off his face, setting on the counter beside you. it was even clearer how much he was shamefully turned on, his pupils wide and blown out, completely trained on you.

“who said you shouldn’t be thinking about, hm?” you asked softly. you didn’t wait for him to stammer out another apology, instead you took his large trembling hand into yours, his fingers twitching nervously against your palm.

slowly, you guided his hand upward, pressing his palm right against the heavy aching curve of your breast.

clark’s breathe hitched, his whole body trembling at the sudden contact. but his palm didn’t move once, terrified to even apply an ounce of pressure.

“see?” you whisper teasingly, leaning in and kissing up his sharp jaw, “m’so full clark, it almost hurts yknow. i know you wanna help me. so stop apologising and take care of me.” you demanded lowly, smiling when you catch the bob of his adam’s apple when he gulps nervously.

a soft needy helpless whine escapes from his throat. the final thread of his sweet farm boy hesitation snapped. he leaned down, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, stepping closer, pressing himself against you as he gave your tit a firm but gentle squeeze. “please…” he gasped out, already wrecked, “please let me.”

clark’s soft lips peppered kisses all over your cute face, each one wet and desperate. the weight of his hips forced your thighs open, his heavy cock sitting snugly in your tight pussy, squeezing and fluttering around him. he trails down to your tits, groping them lewdly with a fascination, licking his lips to stop himself from drooling when each squeeze rewards him with a soft spurt of milk, “golly…” he whispers. he leans down to press a kiss to your leaking nipple, sweeping his tongue over to catch a taste. “been thinking about this all day…thank you s’much honey,” he murmured gently before leaning down and taking your bud into his mouth. focusing on one and coaxing more milk out of the other, switching between the two.

the room was fairly quiet, only if you block out clark’s whiny moans, hips jerking occasionally, wet cunt cockwarming him as he sucked eagerly at your tits. you can catch onto the faint rhythmic swallowing, along with the soft appreciative groan or satisfied hum he makes when the milk lets down. he is so adamant to not let any go to waste, “you taste so good sweetheart…so good,” he mindlessly mumbles when a stray drop slides down your skin, his tongue quickly catching it, kissing his way back up to your nipple.

you could feel his cock twitch desperately, “clark honey..cmon, move a little,” you encourage shakily. he nodded with no hesitation, “o-okay, anything for you sweetheart- ngh, o-oh, feels so good,” he whimpered, fucking up into you, using one hand to pull your hips closer.

his massive frame pinned you beneath him, every thrust felt like it touched your soul, he was so deep in, stretching your walls so good, clit twitching as his happy trail brushed against you. usually, clark is a talker, always praising you, telling you how good you make him feel, but today? he was completely focussed on sucking the milk out of your tits. “please- mmn- pleasepleaseplease,” he whines, drinking from you like it was his life’s work.

he pulled away whilst pounding into you, “o-oh! oh sweetheart! mngh ah, so good- y-you’re so good to me- i’m so close!” huge biceps wrapping around you to hug you tight and breed his cum into you, offering deep shallow thrusts, his rhythm messy now that he was approaching his orgasm. “ah! ohh- m’gonna cum! ungh- please! please!!”

you moan, eyes rolling back as you clamp down, “fuck! oh! clark- ah, yes yesyes! cmon baby, m’so close!” tugging at his soft messy curls when he leans back down for one last harsh suck, moaning around your nipple when he slams into your wet pussy with one last thrust, stilling as his cum gushes out in thick heavy spurts, coating your fleshy insides with a gooey white. the vibrations of his sweet groan against your tit tipped you over the edge. gripping his leaky dick as the warm orgasm in your tummy releases.

your trembling hands cup his cheeks whilst you catch your breathe. clark’s careful not to crush you as he kisses up your warm face. “so good for me, you did so well, mmwah, love you so much,” you smile with a tired huff, “love you too clark.”

the thick haze of sex slowly cleared. all that was left was the soft ruffling of the sheets and clark’s steady breathing. he quickly headed to the bathroom and returned with a warm towel, the soft pink dusting his cheeks still lingering as he shyly looked up to your through his messy hair.

“are you okay?” he whispered, placing the towel down before laying next to you, pulling up the blankets to tuck you in. “i..i didn’t hurt you did i?”

you smiled, pulling him down to lay his head against your heart, “you were perfect clark,” he looked up sheepishly, smiling back “thank you for letting me help.”

[yogichi]

For the love of God can I get The Boys Soldier Boy smut without this weird daddy faux-cest crap??? I want him to be a hot creepy old man without the whole "daddy" thing for fucks sake

[moonlightspencie]

i mean camaraderie!

Description: Ovulation week means one thing: she thinks they’d have really good bed chem.

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader

Warnings: shameless smut, size kink, big dick!uncut!clark yessss, oral (fem receiving), p in v, nipple play, he has a super sense of smell and really likes to use it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: might make a part two

It was supposed to be an easy day.

Work, eat lunch, work some more, clock out, go home. Maybe eat dinner with your favorite boy if he wasn’t too busy saving the world.

But he always had to make it so hard.

“Hi, honey,” he murmured softly as he dropped a fresh mug of coffee on your desk. He still whispered his sweet words as if half the bullpen didn’t know you were together.

“Thank you,” you reply with a small smile up at him.

God, he was extra handsome today. Or maybe you were just ovulating. Maybe both.

Definitely both.

“I like this tie on you,” you note, fingers reaching up to play with the dark red fabric.

His cheeks went a little pink. “Someone very special got it for me, ya know?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He gulped, those dimples poking into his cheeks as he looked down at you like you’d hung the stars. You could swallow him whole.

“Can I come over tonight?”

You chuckle. “Yeah. I’d prefer if you did.”

He nodded again, just looking at you, taking in a deep breath. You took in how he let his eyes wander over you briefly. Maybe you weren’t the only one feeling it.

Two months, three weeks, and four days.

That’s how long since your first date, and how long you’d been waiting for him to make a move. He was so kind and chivalrous. To a fault. He’d kissed you. He told you about Superman, as if you hadn’t already figured that out. He’d slept in your bed and held your hand and made you breakfast. But he had yet to hold you down and make you forget your own name.

It was getting a little old.

You’d talked to Lois about it a few days ago over brunch.

It was a Sunday, french toast and mimosas between the two of you. The first Sunday of every month, in fact. It was a ritual. Time to decompress and talk to someone who would endlessly ‘yes, and’ you. In a healthy way.

“I am just so… fed up.”

“What? Why?” She laughed a little, sipping on her fourth mimosa of the afternoon.

You sighed. “Clark.”

“Yeah? What’s farm boy doing now? I thought you two were going well.”

“We are. Like… really well. He’s sweet and kind and perfect in almost every way.”

She raises a brow. “So what’s the problem?”

You fiddled with your fork, looking into your empty glass.

“I’m horny.”

She laughed outright.

“I’m serious!” you exclaimed. “He’s so polite. He kisses me and cuddles me, but every time I feel his hands on me I just want to grab them and shove them between my legs. Like what gives?! It’s been almost three months!”

“He’s just… polite. It’s probably some chivalry thing his parents instilled. You know him, all his Midwestern charm.”

“Well, I’d like some Midwestern dick.”

She snorted. “So tell him.”

“I can’t just tell him that.”

“Why not?”

“Lois. Be serious. He’d explode. If I look at him too lustfully his cheeks go bright red,” you reply with a short laugh. “I can’t exactly tell him to just pull out his cock.”

“Then… make him want to.”

“Make him?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Like… tease him a little. Make him want it.”

You pursed your lips. “That… might actually work. Breadcrumb him.”

“Yeah. Sexy breadcrumbs.”

You laughed. But she was right. So you did. Throughout the week, you’d been extra flirtatious. Trying to take it slow, not overwhelm him.

But a girl can only hold out so long. So you did the next best thing to a straight out proposition. A heavy suggestion.

You tug on his tie gently. “Maybe we can order takeout and stay in? It’s a Friday night, we can have a sleepover.”

He flushes even deeper, then nods quickly.

“Oh. Uh… y-yeah. Yes. Yeah, I’ll plan to stay overnight then?”

“You do that.”

“O-okay. Yes, ma’am,” he replies, voice a little shaky as he tries for a small smile.

Clark waddled back over to his desk, trying very hard to hide the fact that he now had a prominent bulge straining against the front of his slacks. He’d been trying to be good. He wanted to make sure she knew he liked her, not just that he wanted to… do other stuff. But he did really want to do other stuff.

It was hard. Mentally and physically.

Two months, three weeks, and four days.

That’s how long since your first date, and the first time he let himself jerk off to the thought of you. He didn’t mean to, honestly.

You just looked so pretty that night.

He made it back to his apartment, floating on cloud nine, and maybe, briefly, actually floating. He’d finally taken out the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and even got to give her a polite kiss at her front door. What felt less polite was the way she looked at him afterward. He had decided on a shower after he’d texted that he made it home safely, and that was mistake number one.

Mistake number two was letting himself reflect on that date.

He ended up thrusting his cock into his fists, pretending it was you. Your hands, your mouth, your… that finished him off. It also sent him on a downward spiral. He couldn’t stop himself from his hands wandering a few times a week with you on the brain. It really didn’t help when he’d smelled your arousal for the first time on your second date. He’d looked up at you on his knee while tying your shoelace that had come undone. He didn’t think it was a particularly sexy event. Clearly, according to his nose, you very much did. He wished you’d stop looking at him like you wanted to eat him whole. But… no. He actually didn’t.

You looked at him like that just now.

He settled into his desk chair, trying to distract himself the rest of the day. But your eyes and your hands and your mouth and body and everything was stuck on a loop in his brain.

Once the clock strikes five, you’re up, packing your things. You make a beeline for Clark’s desk, finding him doing the same with still-pink cheeks.

“Ready?”

“Huh?” He looks up with wide eyes behind his glasses. “Oh. Yes. Yeah, I’m just… I’m almost done.”

You wait until he’s finished, then walk home together. You only lived a few blocks away, a couple building past Clark’s apartment. Yours was smaller, less modern. But extremely cozy. You hang up your bag and keys, toeing off your shoes. Clark does the same, gripping onto the bag of Chinese takeout you’d picked up along the way.

“You get that article done?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Perry had me on a story about some big fundraiser event. Not the most thrilling news, but not every story can be a Superman exclusive,” he replies with a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah. Supes is real hard to get a hold of, huh?” You tease, taking the food from him to start plating it up for the both of you.

“Totally.” He laughs softly, trailing after you to watch you. “How’d you do with those edits? Working with interns can be a little…”

“Shitty?”

“I’d say more stressful, but…”

“But you’re too sweet to be honest.”

He smiles again, pushing his glasses up into his hair. Unfairly sexy. You glance away from him, swallowing.

“What?” he asks gently, his voice even deeper somehow.

“What?” You look back at him.

He raises a brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest. It’s like he was scientifically engineered in a lab to make you horny. You have to tear your eyes away again.

“You can’t look at me.”

“Yes I can. I’m just… busy.”

Clark pouts a little. Then, he decides to be a little bolder. It’s been long enough.

“Liar. I can smell you, you know?”

“My perfume is pretty—”

“No,” he interjects. “No, I mean… I can smell you. Like… your reactions. When you’re excited.”

You feel your face pale. “Pardon?”

“I just… it’s nice. You smell good.”

“Clark—”

“It’s kinda musky and sweet. A little bitter but not in a bad way.”

“Clark!”

“Sorry,” he huffs a small laugh, chewing his lip for a moment. He can tell you’re embarrassed, but he can’t manage to feel bad about it. “It’s hot.”

“Are you trying to make me implode?” You frown, looking at him and ignoring the pulsing between your legs.

“I’m trying to express that I’m… That it’s okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

You raise a brow. “Whenever I’m ready?”

“Y-yeah?”

“I’ve been ready since our first date.”

He swallows. “Oh.”

You just stare at him for a minute, then hand over his food and a fork.

“Here. This is like half of the container so when you’re ready for more it’ll be out here—"

He engulfs you before you could finish the sentence, his big arms tugging you into his chest. Before you can think to ask another question, his lips are on yours.

You’d kissed before, quite a few times now. But not like this. Not with intent.

You hum into his mouth, legs going a little shaky under you as his tongue prods at your lips, begging to be let in. You oblige his silent request, moaning properly when you feel him licking against the inside of your mouth. You try to keep up, hands tangling in his dark hair. You toss his glasses onto the counter haphazardly.

“Hey, careful,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Sorry. Bit distracted right now.”

He chuckles, his smile bright. You let your eyes flit down to his lips and over his face.

“You’re like… extra sexy.”

“Extra sexy?”

You nod. “I can’t stop staring at you today.”

“Oh. Well, you’re ovulating. Natural response,” he says with a shrug, trying to kiss you again.

“Whoa, what— excuse me?”

“Hm?” He kisses you again.

“Baby, Clark,” you huff, holding his face. “How do you even know that.”

“Told ya…” Another kiss. “I can smell you. Just about finished in my pants when I realized you were last month.”

“Oh my god.”

“Can’t stop thinking about you. Didn’t mean to make it a habit, but I can’t stop touching myself when I think about you. You’re the best bad habit I’ve ever had.”

You almost melt, but he slides his hands under your thighs before you can. You let him press his tongue back into your mouth as he pulls you up against him. You squirm in his arms, holding on tightly. He starts walking to the couch, but you lean back, shaking your head.

“Bedroom.”

“Bedroom?”

“More room for you.”

He smiles. “You’re sweet.”

“And you’re big. Let me take advantage of that,” you respond with an equal grin.

“You have no idea,” he mumbles under his breath.

He brings you to your bedroom, laying you down like you’re something especially precious. He climbs on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight as he kisses you again. You kiss him back, hands drifting down his neck and to the buttons of his dress shirt. You tug on the tie you’d gifted him first, pulling the dark red material from his neck. Then, onto the shirt. You slip the buttons out of place one by one until you’re able to push it off his shoulders. A guy shouldn’t look this sexy in a tank top undershirt, but you were certain Clark could manage to look sexy dressed up as the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz.

“C’mere,” he whispers softly, pulling your top off next. He sighs dreamily, his hands brushing over your bra-clad breasts. “So pretty. My girl.”

“It’s a beige t-shirt bra.”

“I don’t care. Still pretty,” he mutters, kissing down your neck and over your collarbones until he reaches your breasts.

He mouths over the pillowy flesh, one hand reaching to press into your right tit. He squeezes softly, experimentally, as he sucks a mark into the left side. You brush a hand through his hair, kissing his forehead.

He smiles against your skin, reaching under you to unclasp the bra. He fumbles a little, you suppose you can’t expect him to be perfect at everything. But he gets it. After a moment.

He whines softly in the back of his throat as he pulls the bra off of your body, mouth watering as he sees your breasts freed from the fabric. Your nipples pebble immediately from the cool air, and the arousal coursing through your body.

“Gosh, honey, you’re… geez,” he huffs, smiling again, though this time it’s a little more desperate.

He leans down, licking over one stiff nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You arch into his touch, his hands drifting all over the bare skin, mouth paying special attention to each side. A graze of his teeth against one nipple has you gasping, body jerking against him.

“My baby…”

“Clark,” you moan softly. You try to pull the tank top off of his body. He leans up to help pull it off, though he jumps a little as your hands drift to the waistband of his pants. “Can I… please?”

“No,” he replies, voice soft and gentle.

You pout.

“Mm? Why not?”

“Wanna make it about you, baby,” he mutters, kissing down your sternum and stomach.

“Trust me, getting your cock in my mouth would please me.”

He groans, stilling with his lips just below your belly button. “Baby…”

“Please?”

He looks up at you through his lashes. “Later. Promise.”

You swallow, closing your eyes as he tugs on your pants. You could work with ‘later’. You let him strip you bare, eyes on his face as he drank you in, head to toe. The look on his face would be etched into your mind forever.

The first brush of his tongue against your sensitive slit was everything. You gasp, immediately reaching for any part of him you can hold onto as he holds your legs wide open, circling your clit with his tongue before sucking it between his lips. You squirm and writhe under his mouth, tempted to ask, but not really wanting to know, where on earth he learned to do that.

“Fuck, please. Right there,” you moan, torn between the overwhelming urge to let your eyes roll back and the need to see him settled between your legs. He just looks too pretty like this. “Right… r-right there. Yes.”

He smiles against you, his finger circling your hole before plunging in. He seems awfully self satisfied as you make a noise you were hardly sure even could come from your mouth. He slides another finger in with the first, crooking them just right as his mouth does the rest of the work.

“Baby… Clark… Please. Please. Don’t stop, I’m so… m’so close, baby.”

He hums softly, the vibration of his voice adding yet another sensation to your already-overwhelmed senses. It only takes a few more seconds of you babbling before you’re all but squealing, soaking his hand and his face as you cum hard.

“So good, honey. Attagirl,” he mutters, still softly kissing you as he slides his fingers out.

He wastes no time in pulling his pants off, his hefty, uncut cock springing free from its confines. And you thought you were impressed with his mouth.

“Shit.”

He grins. “You said yourself I was big.”

“Yeah, but I was more meaning your arms. You’re… fuck. You’re just big everywhere.”

He shrugs, definitely a little smug. “Not that big.”

You roll your eyes, working to try and get him on his back.

“What’re you doin’, baby?” He questions, eyes heavy and lidded as you move to straddle his hips.

“What’s it look like?”

He swallows, hands skimming up your thighs and settling on your hips. “Looks like I’m very lucky.”

“You think so, huh?”

You smile down at him, glad to see him just as flustered as you feel. Even more so once you grip his cock, hard and throbbing and just begging for attention. He groans, hips jerking upward.

“You like that, huh?”

“I like everything you do,” he breathes out, your name slipping past his lips in pleasure.

You stroke him slowly a few times, enjoying how much he seems to unravel. Maybe this is why he didn’t want you sucking him off yet, he may not have survived that and everything else all at once. You wouldn’t complain.

You shift your hips up, teasing the head of his cock against your soaking center. His fingers grip your hips harder, sure to leave little bruises you’d admire in the morning. You lock your eyes on his face as you take him in, his thick head breaching you with a little effort. You each let out some awfully pathetic noises in unison, your hands immediately bracing against his chest. You sink down slowly, enjoying the feel of him filling you past your limits and the look in his eyes that make you feel like he’d combust any second.

It takes a moment before you’re fully settled against his pelvis, and you pause to give yourself a moment to adjust.

“Biggest fucking cock I’ve ever taken.”

He moans, trying to laugh. “You feel so good. So perfect.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. I agree.”

You chuckle breathlessly, beginning to experimentally move your hips. You grind against him first, getting used to the feeling of him in you. Then, after a bit, you raise up and sit back down. Hard.

He gasps, eyes rolling back. You repeat the movement, over and over, setting a pace you were certain you wouldn’t be able to keep up with for too long. But fuck if it didn’t feel like heaven.

He whimpers, eyes flitting between your face and your pussy gripping onto him like a vice. He becomes impatient very quickly, easily pushing you up and down at a quicker speed without breaking a sweat. You let him fuck you on his cock, pulling you on and off with ease. Your hands find purchase on his chest and stomach, and eventually behind you on his thighs. Clark liked that the best, the positioning jutting out your bouncing tits.

He sits up against the headboard, still helping you bounce on his dick, the squelching noises of your cunt suctioning him in and your moans the only sounds in the room. He leans in, sucking one perfect nipple into his mouth, face pressed into your chest as you moved on top of him.

Your hands tangled in his hair from this position, holding onto him like you were riding a bull.

He groaned, lips popping off your breast. “G-golly, angel, you’re… mm…”

“Y-yeah. Shit.”

“Hang on,” he breathed out, wrapping strong arms around your waist before flipping you onto your back.

The new angle he hit has you gasping for air, the tops of your thighs pressing against your chest as he bends you in half. He could also go in even harder and faster from here, groaning and whining himself as he pounded into you like there was no tomorrow.

“Good?” He looks down at you with parted lips and wide eyes.

“Fucking phenomenal. Don’t stop.”

He grins, smile bright despite his face fighting the contortion of pleasure. You hold onto his arms, his shoulders, his hair… anywhere you can get a grip as you draw closer and closer to your climax.

“Oh, I know, baby… I know…” he coos softly, kissing you gently. His hand slips down between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit to bring you closer to your edge. “You wanna cum?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“It’s okay. Let go, honey.”

You groan, falling over that edge with a cry of his name. Your wrecked pussy clenches around his length, pulsing with the shocks of the orgasm. And he doesn’t fucking stop.

“Geez, you smell even better now,” he whispers, breathing in your release and your skin.

You whine, wriggling under his big body, overstimulated in the best way. He finally stops rubbing at your sensitive clit, hands on your shoulders to move you against him with each thrust. He whimpers, closer and closer by the second.

“W-where d’ya want me, angel?”

“Anywhere. I dunno, don’t care.”

He groans, suddenly pulling out, jerking himself a couple of times before he finishes. His cum shoots out, hot ropes covering your breasts. It doesn’t end until you’re staring at him, slack jawed and wide eyed. You’d never seen someone cum so much.

He breathes heavy, shaking a little as he finally lets himself go. “Gosh.”

“Baby…” You look up at him.

“Yeah?”

“You’re so fucking hot.”

He just smiles, taking a deep breath as his cock starts hardening again so soon. Goddamn Kryptonians. “Back atchya, honey.”

[honey-on-your-tongue]

tease

── .✦ Clark Kent x fem!reader

synopsis: Jfc, Clark teasing you by pressing the thick head of his cock against your entrance, only to pull back, then press forward again, then pull back???

cw: porn and no plot, clark teases you, bigdick!clark, slight dacryphilia, depictions of porn in general <3

wc: 364 (blurb)

a/n: can you tell i'm ovulating 😩

He'll do it for a good while, after he's already worked you up, eaten your pussy, and fucked you on his fingers for well over an hour. So when, instead of sinking his cock into your needy cunt, he starts teasing you, you start crying.

Fat tears roll down your pretty face as desire and frustration bubble up in you.

“Clark,” you whine, begging. “Clark, please, just...just fuck me.”

“I will, I will,” he promises, while continuing to tease you.

You, a mewling, whining, squirming mess, try to press your hips against his to get him in you, but his huge hand falls on your hip and grips it tight, holding you still.

“I'll give you what you need, just be patient,” he says firmly.

Still, he keeps it up. Just the tiniest of rolls of his hips so the fat tip just barely starts sinking into you, before he pulls away.

He likes the way your cunt opens up to him when you think he'll finally push inside, and then the way you desperately clench around nothing as he pulls back.

“Clark!” you cry, pouting, cheeks soaked from your tears. “Please!”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” he says, but he keeps it up. He's just so obsessed with the way your slick dribbles out of you every time he pulls away, thin strings of your essence connecting the arousal on your hole to the one smeared on the tip of his cock.

He likes how desperate you are, how you start blubbering his name and begging, and how soaked you are by the time he finally gives you what you want.

He sinks into you slowly. He's been working you up for so long, that the feeling of him in you is enough for you to come.

He feels your gummy walls squeeze him tight the second he's all the way in. Your thighs shaking and his name leaving your lips in little squeals and gasps are obvious giveaways of your orgasm.

He laughs softly, his voice rough. “‘m sorry, sweet girl. Did I make you wait too long? I'm sorry. I just love seeing how desperate your pussy is for me.”

♡ please comment and reblog my work, it means so much to me and inspires me to keep writing

Clark Kent masterlist

---

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - if you wanna be added to my Clark Kent taglist, lmk <3

@booboobear-12 @savvysavsblog13 @donnadiddadog @akkahelenaa @tysukier @animegamerfox @absolutelybloodyhopeless @teenytinylilcrawdaddies @simpingreader @ultimatewolverine @justheretoreadmydear @lovexbunny @jazlinda @dolleciita @tinawantstobeadoll @preciselyshifts @markiplex @kissmxcheek @buckyisveryhot @rayamaya @fae-dreamer-99 @heynanasposts @lahniu @paddockspookie42 @lilychristine01 @chronic-fangirl-222 @sunnyteume @take-it-on-the-run @ninikrumbs @smzyyx @shamlesslipzz @spn-reader @gettingprettyfvckintired @cherryresidence @mollymal @liebgotts-lovergirl @lowrisemiller @mingyuziiiii @opalesquegirl @hrtsforstrkysblog @inside--her--fantasy @kodzuminx @evie2435 @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @diseasedclitoris @for-smut @soggywhore @unabashedlyinlovewithyou @sunmooner @elijahhewsonswifelol 

[honey-on-your-tongue]

@dollarbillsflying @thychuvaluswife @stegosaurussims @velvetnightmoonsandbows @steviebbboi @beabogsims @misonesaturou @kodzuvk @emoblythedoll @babybatreads @x-fanaccount1-x @anxiousscribbling @ul4lume @love-anonymous-writer @meetmeatyourworst @herejustforbuckybarnes @sweetapplcider @marybeth13 @dishoneykisses @yogichi @aanaws @dreamayy @imtherain @canyon-moon-carly @succubisys @clarkonite @missanastas1a @sunw00shi @pasc4lfuzz @macbaetwo @bellssblog @morningdovexx @l0singctrl @keiminds @bkgsbabycake @jabulile @mrsboneyyyy @lola11111111 @elizabethblood9 @soapygel @superstar-t20 @fictionalmensexual101 @elizabethblood9 @lilypat @toogaytofunctiondangit @yrdarlingpup @elanoralikesdilfs @marvel-hiddles-stark @angelicprincess12 @sscrslvr @mdsbabygirl @lizziesfirstwife

[yogichi]

Why do people tag smut on posts that aren't? It's annoying!!!! You're clogging the tag with irrelevant bs!

[chichireadss]

!Fire lord zuko drinking your milk.

You shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, your hand pressed against your chest as another wave of pressure built beneath your palm.

"She still won't take it?" Zuko's voice came from the doorway, concern in his tone.

You shook your head, frustration and discomfort in your expression. "She turns away every time. I don't know what's changed. Yesterday she was fine, and now..." You winced as you adjusted your position, the movement sending a sharp ache through your breasts.

Izumi had been fussy all day, refusing to nurse despite your repeated attempts. The wet nurse had suggested she might be teething early, or perhaps going through one of those inexplicable phases that babies sometimes experienced. Whatever the reason, the result was the same—your breasts had grown increasingly swollen and heavy throughout the day, filled with milk that had nowhere to go.

Zuko crossed the room, his footsteps quiet on the polished floor. He knelt before you, golden eyes searching your face. "How bad is it?"

"It hurts," you admitted, your voice tight. "They're so full, Zuko. I've tried releasing some manually, but it's not enough. The pressure just keeps building."

His gaze dropped to your chest, and even through the fabric of your robe, he could see the difference. Your breasts were noticeably larger, swollen and round, straining against the silk. Small damp spots had begun to appear where milk had started to leak through despite your best efforts to contain it.

"Let me see," he said softly, his hands moving to the tie of your robe.

You hesitated only a moment before nodding, allowing him to part the fabric. You took off your breast bindings hours ago when they'd become too tight, and now your breasts were fully exposed to his view—heavy and engorged, the skin stretched tight and shining in the lamplight. Your nipples were darker than usual, prominent and already glistening with beads of milk that had begun to leak unbidden.

Zuko's breath caught audibly. "Spirits," he murmured, his voice dropping low. "You're so swollen."

"I know," you whispered, embarrassment heating your cheeks even as another droplet of milk formed at your nipple and traced a slow path down the curve of your breast. "I look ridiculous."

"No." His contradiction was immediate. His hands came up to hover near your breasts, not quite touching. "You look incredible. May I?"

You nodded, and his warm palms cupped you gently, his touch was gentle as though afraid of hurting you. Even that contact made you gasp—your breasts were so sensitive, every nerve ending heightened by the engorgement.

"They're so warm," Zuko observed, his thumbs brushing carefully along the undersides. "And heavy. This must be painful."

"It is," you confirmed, biting your lip as his exploration sent confusing signals through your body—discomfort from the pressure, but also something else, something that made heat pool low in your belly despite the ache.

Zuko was quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on your chest, watching as another bead of milk formed and began to drip. Then he looked up at you, and there was something dark and hungry in his gaze that made your breath hitch.

"I could help," he said, his voice rough. "If you'd let me."

You understood immediately what he was suggesting, and your heart began to pound. "Zuko..."

"The wet nurse said Izumi might not nurse for days," he continued, his hands still cradling your breasts with exquisite gentleness. "You can't stay like this. Manual expression isn't working well enough. But I could..." He swallowed hard, his pupils dilating. "I could drink from you. Relieve the pressure."

The suggestion sent a bolt of arousal straight through you, unexpected and intense. You'd never considered such a thing, but now that he'd said it, the image filled your mind—Zuko's mouth on your breast, his lips sealed around your nipple, drawing out the milk that made you ache.

"Would you want to?" you asked breathlessly.

His answer was to lean forward and drag his tongue slowly up the trail of milk on your breast, collecting the droplets. His eyes fluttered closed and he made a low sound of appreciation. "You taste sweet," he murmured against your skin. "Like honey and cream."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your body trembling. "Please zu..," you whispered, no longer sure if you were begging for relief from the physical discomfort or from the sudden, desperate need that had ignited in your core.

Zuko shifted closer, positioning himself between your thighs as you sat on the edge of the bed. His hands cupped your right breast, lifting it slightly, and then his mouth closed over your nipple.

The sensation was overwhelming. His lips formed a seal, warm and soft, and then he began to suck—gently at first, then with increasing pressure. The milk let down immediately, flowing into his mouth in a warm rush that made you cry out. The relief was immediate and intense, the pressure easing as he drank, but it was accompanied by a pleasure so acute it bordered on pain.

"Oh, agni," you gasped, your head falling back as Zuko nursed from you. His tongue worked against your nipple, encouraging the flow, while his hand kneaded the swollen flesh gently, helping to express the milk. You could hear him swallowing, could feel the pull of his mouth with every draw, and it was the most erotic thing you'd ever experienced.

He drank deeply, his eyes closed in concentration and pleasure. One of his hands remained on your breast, massaging carefully, while the other slid up your thigh, pushing your robe further open. You were already wet, arousal slicking your inner thighs, and when his fingers found your center, you moaned aloud.

Zuko pulled back just long enough to murmur, "You're soaked," before returning his mouth to your breast. His fingers stroked through your folds, teasing, while he continued to nurse. The dual sensations—his mouth drawing milk from your breast and his fingers working between your legs—had you trembling and gasping within seconds.

Your breast was beginning to soften slightly, the terrible tightness easing, but you were still so full. Zuko seemed to sense this, and he shifted his attention to your other breast, his mouth closing over that nipple with the same hungry devotion. The milk flowed just as readily, and you whimpered as the relief-pleasure washed through you again.

"So good," Zuko murmured between draws, his voice muffled against your flesh. "You taste so good, and you're giving me so much."

His fingers found your clit, circling it with practiced skill, and you bucked against his hand. The combination of sensations was driving you toward climax with startling speed—the relief of your breasts being emptied, the eroticism of your husband drinking from you, the skilled touch of his fingers on your most sensitive places.

"Zuko," you panted, your fingers tightening in his hair. "I'm gonna—oh, please—"

He increased the pressure of his sucking, his hand kneading your breast more firmly to encourage the milk flow, while his fingers worked faster between your legs. The pleasure built and built, tension coiling tighter in your core, until finally it snapped.

You came with a sharp cry, your body convulsing as waves of ecstasy rolled through you. Your breast leaked more heavily as you climaxed, milk flowing freely into Zuko's eager mouth, and he groaned against you, the vibration adding to your pleasure. He didn't stop nursing, didn't stop touching you, drawing out your orgasm until you were shaking and oversensitive.

When you finally came down, gasping and trembling, Zuko released your nipple with a soft pop. His lips were wet with your milk, his eyes dark with lust. "Better?" he asked, his voice rough.

You nodded weakly, looking down at your breasts. They were noticeably smaller now, though still fuller than normal. The terrible tightness had eased considerably, leaving only a pleasant heaviness. "Much better," you breathed. "But you're not finished, are you?"

His smile was predatory. "Not even close."

He stood, and you could see the prominent bulge in his pants, evidence of his arousal. He'd been hard since he first started nursing from you, and now he was clearly aching for relief of his own.

"Lie back," he commanded softly, and you obeyed, scooting further onto the bed and reclining against the pillows. Your robe fell completely open, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze.

Zuko stripped quickly, his movements economical and efficient, revealing the lean, scarred body you knew so well. His cock stood proud and hard, the tip already glistening with precum. He climbed onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs, and leaned down to capture your mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue—the sweet, creamy flavor of your milk—and it made you moan into his mouth.

"I wanna be inside you," he murmured against your lips, "while I drink more. Can i…?"

"Yes," you gasped, already aching to be filled. "Please, Zuko."

He positioned himself at your entrance, and you were so wet that he slid in easily despite his considerable size. You both groaned at the sensation—the stretch and fullness, the slick heat, the perfect fit of your bodies. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, and then he lowered his head to your breast once more.

The sensation of being filled by his cock while he nursed from you was indescribable. Every pull of his mouth seemed to echo in your core, tightening around him, while every thrust drove him deeper. Your breasts were still producing milk readily, and Zuko drank greedily, alternating between them, his hands roaming your body possessively.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured between draws, his hips maintaining the steady pace. "So full and soft and perfect. I could drink from you for hours."

"Zuko," you whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders. The pleasure was building again, faster this time, your body still sensitive from your first orgasm. "Harder, please."

He complied immediately, his thrusts becoming more forceful, driving deeper. His mouth worked at your breast with matching intensity, sucking hard enough that you knew you'd have marks tomorrow—not enough to bruise.. The thought made you clench around him, and he groaned.

"So tight," he panted, releasing your nipple to kiss and lick at the curve of your breast, following the trails of milk that had escaped. "Squeezing me so perfectly. Are you gonna cumagain? Gonna cum on my cock while I drink from these beautiful breasts hm?"

"Y-yes!," you gasped, your nails digging into his back. "Yes, I'm close, so close—"

His hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit again, and that was all it took. You shattered, crying out his name as your second orgasm crashed over you. Your inner walls clamped down on him rhythmically, and you felt a fresh surge of milk let down, flowing freely as your body convulsed in pleasure.

Zuko captured your nipple again, drinking deeply as you came, and the sensation prolonged your climax until you were sobbing with the intensity of it. His thrusts became erratic, and then he was following you over the edge, burying himself deep as he found his own release. You felt him pulse inside you, filling you with his seed, while his mouth continued to draw from your breast in long, satisfied pulls.

He collapsed against you carefully, mindful of your still-tender breasts, his softening cock still inside you. For long moments, you both simply breathed, hearts pounding in sync, bodies slick with sweat and milk.

Finally, Zuko lifted his head, pressing a tender kiss to your breast before meeting your eyes. "How do you feel?" he asked softly.

You took inventory of your body. Your breasts were much softer now, the painful engorgement relieved, though they still held milk. Your body was pleasantly sore, satisfied in a way that made you feel boneless and content. "Perfect," you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. "Absolutely perfect."

He smiled, that rare, genuine smile that he reserved only for you and Izumi. "Good." He pressed a kiss to your lips, sweet and lingering. "Though you know this might become a regular thing if Izumi continues to refuse."

A shiver of anticipation ran through you at the thought. "I think I could live with that."

"Mmm." He nuzzled against your neck, his hand coming up to cup your breast again, thumb brushing over your nipple almost absently. "We should probably clean up. You're covered in milk."

You laughed softly. "So are you."

"I know." His voice was smug, satisfied. "I can still taste you."

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you made no move to get up, content to lie there with your husband's weight pressing you into the mattress, his hand gentle on your breast, his seed slowly leaking from your body. There would be time to clean up later. For now, you simply wanted to savor this moment—the intimacy, the pleasure, the deep connection that bound you together.

Outside, the sun had fully set, and the palace was quiet. Somewhere in the nursery, Izumi slept peacefully, unaware of the gift her refusal to nurse had given her parents. And in the Fire Lord's chambers, you and Zuko held each other close, already anticipating the next time your breasts would swell with milk and he would relieve you with his mouth and hands and body.

It was, you reflected drowsily as Zuko's breathing evened out against your neck, a very satisfactory solution to the problem.

The next morning, you woke to the familiar pressure building in your breasts again. Izumi had still refused to nurse at her dawn feeding, and the wet nurse had reported that she seemed perfectly content with a bottle instead.

Zuko stirred beside you, his hand immediately finding your breast, testing its fullness. His eyes opened, meeting yours, and a slow smile curved his lips.

"Again?" he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep.

You nodded, already feeling the ache, the need. "Again."

He wasted no time, pushing you gently onto your back and settling between your thighs. This time there was no hesitation, no tentative exploration. He knew exactly what you both needed, and he took your nipple into his mouth with confident hunger.

The milk flowed readily, and you gasped as the pleasure washed through you once more. Zuko's hand slipped between your legs, finding you already wet and ready, and he groaned against your breast.

"Every morning," he murmured, his fingers sliding inside you while he continued to nurse. "I wanna wake up like this every morning, drinking from you, making you cum."

"Yes," you whimpered, already close to climax. "Yes, Zuko, please—"

He brought you to orgasm twice before he was satisfied that your breasts were sufficiently relieved, and then he made love to you slowly, thoroughly, until you were both sated and trembling. Afterward, as you lay tangled together in the rumpled sheets, you couldn't help but laugh softly.

"What?" Zuko asked, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I was so worried when Izumi stopped nursing," you admitted. "I thought it was a problem.."

"Now it isn’t," he finished, his hand cupping your breast. "I intend to enjoy it thoroughly for as long as it lasts."

You smiled, turning to kiss him properly. "I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured against your lips. "My beautiful wife. My perfect Fire Lady."

[chichireadss]

Firelord Zuko/atla masterlist

Smut

zuko pleasuring you

Zuko is frustrated with his firelord duties

Zuko breeding you

pussy eater Zuko

puss eater zuko (2)

part 1: Finding out you're pregnant, but Zuko can't seem to take his hands off you.

part 2: !princess Izumi begging for a sibling

Semi public sex with Zuko

Sub zuko

pov you're jealous of Zuko's ex

letting him take control

your husband, firelord zuko has a breeding kink.

Zuko steaming up whenever you have sex together

claiming firelord zuko

Fire Lord Zuko eating you out despite being over stimulated

Fire Lord Zuko drinking your milk

Fire Lord Zuko has a size kink.

Fluff

Zuko with his beautiful wife, you. and his daughter, Izumi.

Exhaustion or pregnancy? (part 2 of arranged marriage with zuko)

Angst

Arranged marriage with firelord zuko (part 1)