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Millie | 18 | She/Her | British | Obsessed with...Many things...

Masterlists Rules Emoji anons Letterboxd TikTok About me Requests are open!

He’s spent the better half of a year yearning for you, so when he’s got you in his lap, grinding on his rock hard cock through your panties and his work pants, he lets out a couple of whimpers, his face scrunched up, and makes an absolute mess of his boxers.

clark kent smut drabble, mdni! <33

i need to write more smut… also, I’m writing a part 2 of anything if anyone cares

Clark Kent who will only fuck you face up, because he can’t stand missing the way your eyes roll back just before your orgasm, because he can’t not kiss you rough, teeth and tongues clashing, a mix of saliva and your own slick from ‘getting you ready’.

Sometimes you’re on top, tits bouncing in his face, just asking to be touched and kissed and covered in his cum. He loves watching you ride him, he loves grabbing your hips, helping you along when you get tired, rutting up into you when you get close. He especially loves watching you desperately chase your orgasm, back arched, head thrown all the way back, mouth agape, releasing desperate, borderline pornographic moans.

He’ll only fuck you from behind when he’s mad. Against the kitchen counter after a bad day, against the window, still in his superman suit after a rough night, or spread open on all fours on the edge of the bed after you’ve spent the whole day teasing him, wearing that delicious blouse that cups your tits just right, grinding on him in the break room just to leave him rock hard, swinging your hips as you walk away, and whispering how much you need him all day.

No, I don’t.

Pairing: Clark Kent (Unrequited) x Reader

Warnings: angst!! reader is very clearly depressed, insecure, lonely, lmk if i've missed any <3

a/n: this i just wrote on a limb it's kinda just a stream of consciousness because i was in an angsty mood. I need some angsty requests i fear...also, I've been in a really writey mood but it's kinda been quantity over quality at the moment so i apologise, i might take a little break.

Word count: 539

You know you're not special. You’re average. You’re not noticeable, not interesting, not good at writing, not pretty in a way that grabs the attention of everyone in the room. 

You…Try. You try your best. You try to be interesting, you try telling funny stories, which you realise halfway through that no one finds funny. You try to do nice makeup, try to look pretty in long skirts and dainty blouses and soft cardigans that sometimes look like something an old librarian would wear. 

You try to get his attention. Clark Kent. But he’s never looking at you. 

He’s looking at Lois Lane. Pulitzer Prize winner, devastatingly gorgeous show stopper, Lois Lane.

Of course he is. Beautiful black curly hair, deep dimples on his cheek, broad shoulders he tries to cover with his oversized suits. He’s painfully handsome, and awfully kind, of course he’s looking at Lois Lane.

You’re nothing. He doesn’t even know your name, no one does. 

You’ve worked at the Daily Planet for 4 years, 5 months, and 26 days, and no one knows your name. 

You’re either ‘kid’, or ‘sweetheart’, or ‘honey’, or ‘hey, you.’ Sometimes it’s some random name someone clearly tried to guess and missed, sometimes it’s ’intern’, even though you’re not an intern. 

You’ve been working with these people for years, desk adjacent to theirs, sat next to them in meetings, planned surprise birthday parties for them, even though every year your birthday goes uncelebrated, covered for them, and they're still introducing themselves like it’s your first day.

And you take it.

Every morning, you come in early, you bring people their coffee, even though that’s not your job, you sit at your desk, write an article that’ll ultimately get sent back or given to someone else, be pulled into some job that’s not yours to do under the guise of a favour, eat your lunch at your desk, watch Clark talk to Lois, try to finish another article, phone around for interviews, get nowhere, pack up late, walk home because you can’t afford the bus, greet your cat at the door, cook something simple like mac and cheese with slices of cucumber, shower, watch tv, and go to bed. All to repeat it the next day.

You don’t complain, but you’re exhausted. Every day is the same, wake up, work, sleep, repeat, and you don’t know how much longer you can take it.

Clark doesn’t care, no one does. They wouldn’t even notice if you’d disappeared for a week. You wouldn’t be missed, the office would just keep moving without you.

And you know that. You know that in your heart that maybe you’re not cut out for this. But you still try.

You still put your best foot forward, and try to be the best person you can be, because maybe one day he will notice.

Maybe one day, he’ll notice your smile, or your little plant on your desk desperately leaning towards the window, the framed picture of your cat leaning against your monitor, your mismatched socks or your broken tote bag covered in pins. 

Maybe one day, he’ll ask you out on a date, and you’ll say yes, and everything will all be worth it. But for now, you’re a shadow in your own life, neglected, ignored, and forgotten.

clark possibly encountering a na'vi for the first time? i think it's a rather interesting concept, even more if you consider the fact they may be an escaped RDA specimen. obvi timelines don't line up exactly and you don't even need to post this but i just want to poison your brain with my current thoughts /j

also because i think clark would appreciate a 9ft tall blue friend/partner lol ^_^

La lectora teniendo algún antojo de embarazo, algo que no es fácil encontrar en metrópolis, quizás Clark tiene que volar como Superman hasta otro país para poder encontrarlo.

I love you to Italy and back

Request: English isn't my native language, but I love the way you write. I did have an idea for Dad Clark, though. The reader could have a pregnancy craving, something not easily found in Metropolis, so maybe Clark has to fly as Superman to another country to get it.

Pairing: Dad!Clark Kent x Mom!Reader

Warnings: mentions of food, she's heavily pregnant with clark's massive baby (the baby turns out to be very tiny, she's just exaggerating) lmk if i've missed any.

a/n: hii! tysm for requesting! I had to use google translate because I've honestly forgotten all the spanish I learnt in gcse...oh dear. I hope you like it! <3

also guys the names of these fics are getting worse and worse I'm sorry.

Word count: 741

Dad!Clark Masterlist

It’s 2:37 am, you're 35 weeks pregnant, and you’re starving. Clark, unfortunately, makes big babies, which means you’re constantly hungry. It’s a half-Kryptonian baby! Of course you need the energy to grow her. 

Your husband snores peacefully beside you, and you almost don’t have the heart to wake him, until your stomach gurgles and baby girl kicks. 

Still, it pains you, and you gently brush his cheek and move a curly strand of his hair off his forehead. His face is slightly smushed against his pillow, mouth slightly open and adorably pouty. You shake his shoulders gently, but he doesn’t budge.

“Baby?” You whisper. “...Clark, honey?” 

Considering he’s a superhuman with super hearing, it takes a lot to wake him when there’s no danger around.

“Clark!” You shout, shoving his shoulders against the mattress.

He gasps awake and jolts up, eyes wide, chest heaving as he scans the room for danger. “What, what!? I’m up, what’s wrong?” He gasps. “Did your water break?” He reaches for your bump, hands rubbing the skin soothingly as he checks you over. 

You chuckle under your breath, shaking your head. “No, no…I’m hungry.” You say.

He physically deflates, and his eyes close for a second. He continues to rub your skin, one hand moving to push some of your hair behind your u ear. “Oh, okay. What do you want?”

You sigh. You want everything and anything, pregnancy cravings have been ruthless, and most of the time, you can never make your mind up. “Uh…I don’t know.” You shrug. 

Which is how you end up sat at the kitchen table while Clark scours the fridge for something to eat.

He leans against the door, shirt on backwards, hair flat on one side, cheek flushed, and one pyjama pant leg halfway rolled up his calf.

“Okay…” He hums. He pushes through the condiments, and pulls out a jar, already half empty even though he bought it yesterday. “Pickles?” 

You pull a face, and shake your head quickly, and he mutters under his breath, ‘well, that’s a no.’

He pulls out another jar. “Apple sauce?”

Nope

“Celery and peanut butter?”

You hesitate. No.

“...Pickles and peanut butter?”

You shake your head aggressively, looking both disgusted and appalled like you weren’t eating apples with mustard yesterday morning.

After a few moments, the craving hits. 

“Clark?...” You ask.

He steps towards you, and places a hand on your cheek, thumbing brushing the skin softly. “Yes, lovely?” He coos.

You blink up at him through your eyelashes. “I kinda want pizza.”

He nods. “Yeah? I can go run down the street.”

You throw your head back and whine, shaking your head again. It upsets you so much that tears start forming in your eyes, falling in fat tears down your face. Clark’s face falls, and he quickly goes to brush them away.

“I thought you said you wanted pizza?” He says, confused as to why you're crying.

“I do, I just…” You sniff. “You know that pizza place we went to on our honeymoon...” You pout and take Clark’s hand in yours, 

His brows scrunch, he’s hit exactly sure what you’re hinting at. “Yeah?...”

You pout, fluttering your eyelashes, beaming up at him with your glossy eyes. “Please?” You plead, squeezing his hand softly.

He sighs. How can he say no to you, his precious, perfect wife, carrying his equally perfect daughter.

He nods his head, and leans down to kiss your forehead. “Only because I love you.” He says.

You jump up, and rush to squeeze him with a hug, as much as you can do with a beach ball between you both. You giggle, leaning up to press kisses on his chin, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, Clark! I love you so so so much. I’ll even let you have a slice!” You beam, already planning your next combination; margarita pizza with apple sauce.

Clark shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You don’t need to do that, honey.” He insists. “You can have it all, you’re the one growing our daughter.”

You don’t need much convincing, but you do end up saving him a slice, mainly because he flew to Italy and back in 15 minutes in the middle the night, and a little because he kept staring at it, even if it was covered in sweet apple sauce, which, he found surprisingly tasty, but he won’t tell you that.

Betrayal

Pairing: Clark Kent x Justice Gang!Reader

Warnings: angst, unestablished relationship??, lmk if there's anymore! <3

a/n: I'm not sure if this is a request but i kinda wanted to explore that post anywayy. i'm not very happy with this one i can't lie, i hope you enjoy it anyway. not proofread, it's 2 am.

Word Count: 825

The sound of an alien language floods through the city of Metropolis. You watch as Superman, Clark, looks around, jaw tense as he listens to his parents message. 

‘Superman sent on mission to destroy us.’ The screen reads.

You swallow softly, and your stomach drops. You trusted Clark. He knows your name, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry, he’s been to your place, you’ve told him your deepest secrets, and he’s here to destroy you? Everything you’ve ever known and loved?

The sound of his father's translated voice comes from everywhere; phones, new outlets, massive billboards covering the sides of buildings, and the crowd murmurs in quiet disgust.

“We have searched the universe for a home where you can do the most good and live out Krypton’s truth. That place is Earth.” He says.

Clark looks confused, and he turns towards you all. “I don’t get it, what’s wrong about that?” 

You stand behind Kendra and Guy, betrayal written all over your face. Your eyebrows furrow, and your eyes gloss. Clark was supposed to be a good guy, a kind, trusting, loyal guy, and now you don’t know what to believe.

“The people there are simple and profoundly confused.” It continues. “Weak of mind and spirit and body. Lord over the planet as the last son Krypton. Dispatch of anyone unable or unwilling to serve you, Kal-El.” 

From where Clark stands, he can hear the quick beat of your heart, the tremble in your breath, and he can see the way your hand shakes and your face fills with horror as his parents continue to speak.

You’re no longer looking it him, and he wants nothing more to pull you close, both hands on your face, pleading with you that it’s not true, that he’d never heard that before, that he loves you, and you have to believe him.

“Take as many wives as you can, so your genes and Krypton’s might and legacy will live on this new frontier. Do us proud, our beloved son. Rule without mercy.”

You feel physically sick as you watch Clark move through the crowd, weaving in between people, a tense, miserable expression on his face. He walks towards an empty building, and through the windows you can see his chest heaving, his face scrunched up with a mess of different emotions.

Guy strides towards the building with anger, and he slams open the door, you, Mr Terrific, and Hawkgirl following closely behind.

Guy blasts the windows with his ring, creating privacy and causing the sun to shine with a green hue. “Dude, you got a secret harem!?” He asks, accusing and bold.

“No, guy. Of course I don’t have a harem.” Clark snaps.

He makes the mistake of looking over Guy’s shoulder, and over towards you. You look so upset, with teary eyes and pouty lips. He pleads silently with his eyes, begging for some kind of forgiveness. Your face scrunches up, and you shake your head.

“If any of that message is even remotely true, then you are exactly the kind of alien threat I was commandeered by the Green Lantern Corps to protect this planet against.” Guy threatens, and he inches towards Clark like he isn’t some superpowered god.

Clark growls. “Back off, Guy!”

Guy raises his eyebrows, chest puffed out, shoulders back. “Oh. Make a move, Big Blue.” He snarls.

Kendra steps forward with her arms out, pulling guy away. “Guy, relax…”

Clark looks over to you, jaw clenched, fists tight, and his heart stutters. You look heartbroken, you look disgusted, but worst of all, you look disappointed. Your lip trembles, and you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. 

You swallow. “Clark?…Is it true?” You say softly, folding your arms tight against your chest. 

He hesitate, stepping forwards towards you before stopping himself. “The first half. The first half is-is real.” He stutters. “The second half was damaged in the t-trip from Krypton to Earth, so it’s-it’s gotta be doctored.”

Mr Terrific shakes his head. “No way, Clark.”

 “I know these computer forensics guys. They’re not gonna say it’s legit unless they are sure.”

Clark’s face falls, and he can’t help watch your face break. He wants to bundle you up in his arms, tell you it’s not true, that he’s here to help people, not to hurt them, wipe your tears and promise he’s here for good.

He can’t lose you, you have to believe him. He can’t lose you. 

Mr Terrific sighs. “I’m so sorry, man. But there’s no way that message is fake.”

You let out a whimper, and quickly turn on your feet. “I can’t-I can’t do this.” You choke out, moving towards the door.

You hear Clark call out your name as you open the door, but you can’t look back. You can’t look at his face any longer. You feel betrayed, manipulated, but…confused. You just don’t know what to believe anymore.