#tom welling fics

[sabrinasopposite]

drinks or coffee?

college!charlie baker x photographer!reader

I'm feeling so good At a bad party We don't have to talk I know that you want me Gotta keep it nice We cannot be naughty We can get drinks Or we could get coffee

summary: y/n is stuck in this lame, boring and bad college party, yet she starts to find more reasons to stay there as she was talking to her crush, charlie baker.

Y/N adjusted the strap of her vintage camera, letting the weight of it steady her. She stood in the corner of the crowded apartment, where strings of fairy lights stretched across the ceiling, casting warm, uneven glows on the peeling walls. The party was alive, pulsing with music and laughter, but Y/N felt like she was outside looking in, a ghost in a room of vibrant, living people.

She raised her camera, the familiar click and hum of the focus grounding her. Through the lens, the world always made sense: fragmented, composed, controllable. She scanned the room, her eye catching on flashes of movement and laughter, on the way the light hit someone’s cheekbone just right. But when her camera landed on him, she froze.

Charlie Baker.

He was leaning against the worn-out bookshelf on the other side of the room, casually laughing at something one of his friends said. He had that effortless charisma Y/N couldn’t look away from.

His dark curls fell perfectly messy over his forehead, and his faded denim jacket looked like it had seen its fair share of oil changes and late-night drives. He was all sharp angles and soft smiles, an easy magnetism that made everyone around him feel seen.

Charlie wasn’t like the others on campus who dressed to impress or strutted their way into conversations. He was real, grounded in a way that felt rare. Y/N had heard bits and pieces about him—how he grew up in a big, chaotic family, how he used to be the star of the football team but decided to trade that life for working with his hands.

Word was he wanted to drop out of college altogether and become a car mechanic, though most people couldn’t understand why someone who looked like that wouldn’t want to be famous instead.

Through the lens, Y/N could admire him without fear. She could notice the little things: the way his hands moved when he talked, rough and calloused but deliberate, or the faint grease stains on his jacket cuffs. He had a habit of glancing down when he laughed, like he didn’t realize how captivating he was.

Her heart tugged, a quiet ache she wasn’t sure what to do with. She lowered the camera and sighed.

“Still hiding behind that thing?”

Her breath hitched. She turned to find Charlie standing beside her, a crooked grin on his face. How did he move so quietly?

“Still asking obvious questions?” she shot back, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she felt.

Charlie chuckled, a low, warm sound that made the noise of the party blur into static. His smile was lopsided, like he wasn’t sure it belonged to him. “Touché,” he said. “So, what’s the verdict? Getting any good shots, or is this place a creative wasteland?”

Y/N shrugged, her pulse racing. “It’s... lively.”

“Diplomatic answer.” He tilted his head, studying her the way he might study a car engine that wouldn’t start, his brown eyes sharp and curious. “What are you really thinking?”

She tightened her grip on the camera strap. You’re making it impossible to think. Instead, she said, “I’m thinking that not every party needs to be immortalized.”

“Maybe not,” he said, leaning a little closer. “But I’m betting you’ve already found something worth keeping.”

Charlie was the kind of guy who could make anyone feel at ease. He had this way of giving people his full attention, like whatever they were saying was the most important thing in the world. Tonight, though, it felt like his focus was entirely on her, and Y/N didn’t know what to do with it.

He asked her about her photography, genuinely curious, and she found herself talking more than she expected—about her gallery submission, her love for capturing fleeting moments, how the camera helped her make sense of the world.

“You must have the patience of a saint,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“Not really.” She smiled, feeling her cheeks heat. “I just know what I’m looking for.”

His gaze lingered on her, a beat too long. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I can see that.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped, and she quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her camera.

It wasn’t fair, the way Charlie existed. He was every bit the campus heartthrob, but there was nothing flashy about him. He didn’t chase attention—it just followed him, like moths to a flame. He continued to carry the conversation as he told her about his love for cars, how he’d spend hours in the garage back home with his dad, rebuilding engines and making junkers run like new. “It’s honest work,” he said, his voice tinged with longing. “There’s something satisfying about fixing something with your hands, you know?”

Y/N nodded, though she didn’t fully understand. What she did understand was the way his face lit up when he talked about it, like it was more than a job—it was who he was. She found herself noticing everything about him: the way his hair caught the light, the faint smudge of grease on his forearm, the way his voice softened when he talked about home. She wanted to capture it all, not with her camera, but just for herself.

As the party wound down, Charlie stayed, lingering in her orbit like a half-finished thought. Someone called him away, and she thought the moment was over. But later, as she stood on the balcony, trying to let the cold air clear her mind, he appeared again. “Thinking about calling it a night?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Maybe.”

He hesitated, then smiled, something shy in the curve of it. “I was thinking of getting coffee. You know, to detox from all... this.” He gestured vaguely toward the party behind them.

Her heart raced, but she shrugged, keeping her face neutral. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

When she finally decided to leave, he was waiting by the door.

“Still up for coffee?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She hesitated, a thousand thoughts colliding in her mind. But then she nodded. “Yeah. Coffee sounds good.”

They walked through the quiet streets, the tension between them humming like the low purr of an engine. At the café, under the golden glow of the lights, Charlie leaned forward, his hands wrapped around his cup.

“You know,” he said, his voice soft, “I wasn’t really thinking about the party tonight. I was thinking about you.”

Y/N’s breath caught, her fingers tightening around her own cup.

“I’ve been seeing you in a different light,” he admitted. “And I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong, but...”

She met his gaze, the courage rising unbidden. “You’re not.”

His smile widened, slow and warm, and suddenly, the weight of unspoken words lifted. The night stretched ahead of them, full of possibility, and for the first time, Y/N felt like she didn’t need her camera to hold on to it.

🥡 taglist: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23 @collywobblvs @tvdelrey @angelsgalore @callicela @seulgi-burgundy

pt 2 is out !

[deansbeer]

☆ summer heat // clark kent.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

synopsis. a quiet drive-in date with clark turns into something far more intimate. with his soothing reassurances, you surrender to him in the confines of his dad's creaky blue pickup truck.

warning(s). smut | f!reader | pet names (baby, baby girl) | clark being a lil horndog | semi-public sex | explicit language | gentle dom behavior | truck sex (?) | domestic fluff.

kari yaps. inspired by nai @st4rfckerz to write some clark smut :) it's my first ever time writing something like this for baby so pls be nice about it <333

the drive-in had been clark's idea, a rare night off from his responsibilities and a chance to spend time together without the weight of the world on his shoulders. the summer air was warm, the windows of the small blue pickup truck cracked open just enough to let in the faint breeze. the smell of buttery popcorn wafted in from the concession stand, mixing with the soft hum of the projector and the distant murmurs of people in other cars.

he'd been quiet most of the evening, his arm draped around your shoulders as the two of you leaned back against the worn leather seats. the movie—a horror flick you couldn't quite focus on—played across the giant screen in front of you. clark had been holding you close, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your arm, but something felt… different.

at first, you thought he was just restless. his knee bounced lightly, his breathing a little heavier than usual. you leaned into him, hoping to soothe whatever was bothering him, but instead of relaxing, his arm tightened around you, his fingers digging slightly into your skin.

"clark?" you ask softly, tilting your head up to look at him. his jaw is clenched, his eyes fixed on the screen, but there's a flicker of something in his expression that sends heat pooling low in your stomach.

"i'm fine," he murmurs, his voice a little strained, but the way his hand moves to your thigh tells a different story.

you swallow hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the closeness of the cab, the way his fingers are sliding higher, inching beneath the hem of your sundress.

"clark," you whisper again, a warning this time, your eyes darting toward the cars parked around you.

"relax, baby," he says, his voice soft but commanding. "no one's paying attention. they're all too busy watching the movie—or rather on each other."

his lips brush against your temple, his breath warm against your skin as his hand presses higher, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties. your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of nerves and anticipation flooding your senses.

"but—" you start, your protest dying on your lips as he shifts, turning you slightly so you're facing away from him.

"trust me," he says, his voice low and full of promise.

before you can respond, his hands are on your hips, guiding you forward until you're on your stomach, your chest pressed against the cool leather of the seat. the position is awkward at first, your knees bent beneath you, but then you feel him, hard and insistent against the curve of your ass, and any thought of stopping him evaporates.

"baby," you whisper, your voice trembling as his hands slide beneath your dress, tugging your panties down your thighs.

"shh," he soothes, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. "no one will notice. i'll make sure of it."

you want to believe him, but the creak of the truck as he shifts behind you sends a fresh wave of nerves through you.

"what about the truck—"

"'s fine," he says, his voice firm as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. "they're all too distracted."

his hands grip your hips, pulling you back against him as he frees himself, the heat of him almost too much as he slides against you. when he finally pushes into you, slow and calculated, a broken moan escapes your lips, muffled by the seat beneath you.

"that's it, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "so perfect."

his thrusts are slow at first, his hands steadying you as he moves, but the angle—the way the cramped space of the cab forces you closer together—has you biting your lip to keep from crying out.

"fuck," you whimper, your fingers gripping the edge of the seat as he picks up his pace, each movement sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

"you're doing so good,” he praises, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "just let go. no one can see you. it's just us."

you try to focus on his words, on the way he feels inside you, but the faint creak of the truck and the knowledge that anyone could look over at any moment has you teetering on the edge of panic.

"they'll see," you manage, your voice muffled against the seat.

"they won't," he assures you, his hand sliding up your spine in a soothing gesture. "trust me, baby. they're all too busy with their own thing. and even if they did…" he trails off, his lips brushing against your ear. "i'd still ruin you right here."

his words send a wave of heat through you, your body clenching around him as he continues to move, his thrusts growing deeper, more deliberate.

the sounds of the movie—screams and dramatic music—fill the air, masking the soft creak of the truck and the muffled moans that escape you despite your best efforts.

clark's hands grip your hips tighter, his breathing ragged as he chases his release, and you can feel yourself spiraling, the tension in your body building with every movement.

"come for me," he whispers, his voice rough and desperate. "let me feel you, baby girl."

it's all you need. the wave crashes over you, your body trembling beneath him as you bury your face against the seat to muffle your cries.

he follows moments later, his movements slowing as he buries himself deep, a low groan escaping him as he collapses against your back.

for a moment, the two of you are silent, the sounds of the movie and the faint hum of the projector the only things breaking the quiet.

"see?" he says finally, his voice soft and teasing. "told you no one would notice."

you let out a breathless laugh, your body still tingling as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, his hands gentle as he helps you straighten your dress.

"you're impossible," you murmur, but the smile on your lips betrays you.

"and you love it," he counters, pulling you into his arms as the two of you settle back against the seat.

as the movie continues to play, you rest your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding you. despite the flush in your cheeks and the lingering thrill of what just happened, you can't help but feel safe in his arms.

and maybe a little scandalized.

SPECIAL TAGS. @floralscented @titsout4jackles @deansbite @jasvtsc @aileenunfiltered @fallbhind @lacydollette @ultravi0lence14 . . . ୨୧

[blackynsupremacy]

SICK DAYS WITH

CLARK KENT

HEADCANONS

pairing: older!smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

summary: clark nurses you back to health when you feel under the weather.

contains: fluff, established relationship, clark being a green flag, reader can imagine any clark ofc.

a/n: i missed writing for him sm. i’m going through this rn, so writing this made me feel a little less worse. please enjoy while i try to sleep this off!

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @paisholotus @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @ellethespaceunicorn

• there’s nothing worse than waking up with a sore throat, fever, chills, and a stuffed nose.

• you groan in agony as you feel like absolute garbage.

• clark is stirred by your sound and turns to you with a gaze of concern.

• he takes one glance at your peaked face.

• it doesn’t take x-ray vision for him to know that you’ve come down with something.

• he feels your forehead and as soon as it feels hot as the sun, he immediately calls in the daily planet for both of you.

• those headlines and deadlines were gonna have to wait because to clark, your safety and your health were his top priority.

• he urges you to stay in bed because with him around, you won’t have to lift a finger.

• he makes sure that you have the necessities like tissues, water, cough drops, saltines, and ginger ale. (ifykyk)

• he waits on you hand and foot.

• whether you like it or not, he’s making you an appointment to the doctor later on. home remedies can only do so much.

• he cooks for you a soup that’s his mother’s special recipe.

• clark puts his heart, soul, and heat vision in that soup.

• when you finally get the appetite, clark makes sure that you get your fill.

• don’t bother trying to skip on that water, he will be on you about hydrating yourself.

• and taking any medication that the doctor prescribed.

• hypes you up when you have a big pill to swallow.

• you love that he doesn’t get sick as humans do, so you can kiss and hug him without any fret of spreading your illness to him.

• alien or not, you can’t resist showing your affection.

• clark is so, so, so, good to you.

• you guys aren’t married, but he takes in sickness and in health to a whole new level.

• he’ll sanitize the apartment for you.

• he we will give you the whole queen treatment.

• bubble baths, back massages, foot rubs, you name it!

• you tell him to relax and lay down with you.

• you put on shows like judge judy or general hospital.

• he reads to you or tells you stories about his life in smallville.

• not to be a creep, but it’s peaceful for him to watch you sleep.

• you deserve some good sleep for enduring this illness all day.

• clark holds you close and fixes your scarf/bonnet if it shifts.

• if you’re still feeling feverish, he has an ice pack ready to gently lay on your head.

• whether he sleeps or not, he wouldn’t dare to leave your side for a second.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

heartless- clark kent

thinking abour red red kryptonite clark teasing you and making you ride his thigh to get off... mmm

this is smutty so you have been warned

“I don't know why you keep squirming around like that angel. It's not gonna let you cum any faster.” Clark chuckled as you pouted upon your pedestal- his denim clothed thigh, struggling to get any form of friction to quell the heat that puddled between your legs.

It had been over an hour of this, of you trying to be extra sweet to please Clark, in hopes he would pick you up the way you liked- like a doll, and coo at you as he’d make you cum repeatedly in his bed.

Instead, you were here- desperate for relief as he mocked you.

Your usual schemes had failed, his gaze amused and uninterested as you tried extra hard to do things you knew tended to get him head over heels for you. It was as if he could see right through you.

Those attempts had resulted in failure, as Clark was anything but sweet. No, his demeanour was darker, and he was meaner.

But fuck if you didnt enjoy it, just a little.

He had coaxed you up onto his lap, where he man spread wide across the couch in his room. You straddled his thick thigh, rubbing your hips on your own accord. He refused to help, and it drove you to the point of tears.

“Please Clark, please- I ju-just need your help.” you hiccuped, feeling a tear start to slip down your cheek as your legs started to quiver and shake, just as your lower lip did.

He smirked, hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your lower lip- forcing its way into your mouth. You sucked, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“You look so pretty when you cry baby. Such a cute lil thing, aren't you?”

He bucked his knee up, bouncing it up and down in rhythm, making you squirm even more as you clung to his t-shirt, bawling the fabric into your fists.

“You really need my help to make you cum, don't you? Pathetic. Can you do anything on your own?”

You shook your head, another tear falling down your cheek, leaving them feeling sticky in its wake as it fell to Clarks hand.

“No, no that's right, you need me to do everything for you. You need me, cause no one can fuck you as good as I can- yeah?”

You frantically nodded, eyes widening as his hand slid down to your hips, guiding them as you grinded on him shamelessly, a wet patch on his pants.

“Yeah, I know baby. Maybe I’ll let you cum.” he said coyley, a smirk on his face, eyebrows raising as you tried to protest, only getting out incoherent mumbles through his thumb in your mouth.

“What's that? You can hold off a little longer? Oh angel..” he cooed as you shook your head, trying desperately to hold off from finishing. You knew if you came without his permission, you’d be in for it.

“I- I cant hold off anymore.” you choked out, drool dripping down your chin as he removed his thumb, shinny with your spit.

“Too bad.” he grinned, a flash of red shining in his eyes.

[soangelbaby]

ৎ୭ tainted by you ; clark kent

“c’mon, nobody’s gonna catch us,” clark prodded, his hands sliding up your hips, twirling his fingers into the waistband of your denim skirt as he pushed you back against the cold brick of the alleyway wall, “you know i could get us out of here before they’d even register what was happening.” his voice low, leaning into the crook of your neck, his tongue grazing over the warm skin before sinking his teeth into it. you yelped at the contact, your arms shooting up to push at his chest, your stomach churning, “clark! what the hell was that?” you whined out, but clark’s grip was firm, and he didn’t even bother to pull away. his mouth still working on you, his hands slid up your denim skirt, it bunching up at your hips as he gripped your ass harshly and pulled you flush against him.

your head tipped back as you held back a moan of pleasure and pain, your acrylic nails tugging his hair, and he groaned against your skin. “there ya go baby, gonna let me take care of you right?” clark’s fingers looped around your panties yanking them down, your hands shot to push his wrist away—still attempting to hold onto any sense of control over this moment, but you knew it was useless. “clark—we shouldn’t—” but he cut you off by smashing his lips onto yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease, forcing you open for him. you whimpered into his mouth, feeling him plunge to fingers inside your throbbing pussy, clark’s lips traveled down your jaw and behind your ear, “you tell me no but you’re so wet for me, why is that?” he bites down on your earlobe, his tongue gliding over the cartilage, placing sloppy kisses everywhere. you can’t help but moan at the feeling, melting into him, he knew your body, exactly where to place his lips, his hands, every single spot, like it was specifically designed for him to unravel.

your body rocked against the brick wall, his fingers working so fast in and out of you, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your clit. you arched into him, feeling the tightness build your stomach, “cl-clark m’ gonna—” you barely made out, your body glitching against him, before squirting all over his fingers, staining his grey sweatpants, drops trickling down onto the pavement. clark’s fingers barely slowed down, “fuck baby, that was so hot,” he groans, “such a dirty girl, ruining my clothes in this damn alleyway, not as innocent as you pretend to be hm?” his fingers slide out of you, reaching into his sweats and tugging his dick out. you can barely speak, still trying to catch your breath from the action that just transpired. but clark’s moving fast—too fast for you to catch up, “wait-wait-slow down” you pant, pushing at his chest. clark doesn’t listen, his tip sliding in between your slit, already coating himself in your wetness, “you want me to slow down? you think you have a say in this?” he growls, slipping into you, raw and rough, feeling the intense stretch of him between your walls.

you squeal loudly trying to back away him, moving up the wall. clark slaps your face, your head whipping to the side, cheek stinging hot, anger welling up inside you—and even more so, fear as you looked into his eyes, vision blurry through your tears, “stupid slut, you must wanna get caught, making noises like that” clark bites at your jaw, before licking down your neck, “say my name then, tell em’ who’s got you folded up like this.” shaking your head, you clench around him, still pulsating from your last orgasm, your fingers lock in his hair, “bitch, i said say it.” he slaps your ass, causing you to jerk forward, his tip slamming against your cervix, you bit down on your lip, hands tightening around his neck, “f-fuck clark, please” you gasp out, he rests his forehead on yours, grunting as he speeds up, his eyes locked on yours, “louder.” clark demands, and you gasp, feeling the tightness in your stomach once again, your eyes dare to roll back but you stay focused, for your sake, you can’t bare another harsh slap.

“yes—fuck clark—im so close,” you moan uncontrollably, your head tipping back hitting the brick wall repeatedly, your grip on him slips, lazily clawing at his shoulders, clark’s ears twitch, and he smirks at you “people are coming. but you’re gonna cum on my dick anyway, right slut?” you nod weakly, halfway feeling ashamed, the other half craving the humiliation, loving how he makes a fool out of you, being so desperate and needy for him. it’s pathetic, you know, but you don’t care, you need him, and he wasn’t afraid to let everyone else know it. just then, you felt his warm cum shoot into you, your eyes squeezing shut, trembling against him, throaty moans escaping both of your mouths as he collapses on top of you, chest presses hard against yours, still holding you up against the wall. and you hadn’t even realized you had squirted again on him, completely drenching his sweats, puddles on the pavement around you. you fought to catch your breath, the group of people passing by the alleyway, in deep conversation, completely oblivious to what was happening underneath these red lights.

“see what happens when you’re good for me? so where are we thinking next? the mall? movies?”

★ rini’s note ; spoiling my red kryptonite clark lovers today huh?? i can’t get enough of him—too hot to handle, but he’s got me wrapped around his finger. & ik he’s just such a freak like i just know it 💔 srry ab any typos grr i rush but they will be fixed in due time <3

[hearts4johnwick]

SUMMARY. your school has a football game against smallville. after the game clark kent approaches you and asks if you want to hang out, but there’s one problem.

CW. academic rivals—except clark and reader rlly don’t hate each other, reader’s “boyfriend” doesn’t take no for an answer, fighting, fluff.

A/N. guys… before you read, i have to say I JUST started watching smallville 😭 I’m on season 1 ep 5, so some I’m going to be improvising some stuff, so, clark isn’t going to be like s1 clark, he’s going to be a bit like red k clark? so, there’s that. the ending lowkey makes me mad 😔 but yall lmk if yall want a pt 2 maybe? 😗

you and your cheerleaders celebrate your team for winning the football game against smallville with chants, flips, and jumps. you guys were happy that you won after losing two games in a row, first one was against gotham and the other against central city, which was weird because these teams haven’t won against metropolis in decades, but, the team won once again and that’s what matters tonight.

“troy’s in for a real treat tonight, huh?” your friend avery cocks her eyebrows and you chuckle. “he scored the winning touchdown, you have to rock his world, baby.” she winks at you and goes with her other cheerleading friends. your tongue runs over your teeth as you try to hide your annoyed face.

the footballers run over to the squad and you stand aside, you’re the captain, you should be there sharing the moment with them, but you don’t, you stay a few feet away ruffling your Pom poms and smiling.

you have a few friends from smallville since you were raised there, you and your brother moved to metropolis with your parents because your father had been offered a nice job there, and he took it. you recognize lana lang, whitney fordman, chloe sullivan, pete ross, and of course, clark kent.

your dad and his were practically brothers, they were inseparable ever since the sixth grade, but as they grew older, before moving to metropolis, clark’s father suddenly stopped associating with your father. you never knew why, it wasn’t your business, but now that you see clark’s face, you might ask your father.

your thoughts are interrupted by a figure standing in front of you, you focus back and it’s none other than clark kent!

“i gotta say… your dancing skills were always bad, but now? oh, they got worse.” you raise an eyebrow as he grimaces.

“yeah? well at least i still don’t run like I’m scared of tripping my own feet.” you press your lips into a thin line.

“you know, every time your squad threw you up in the air i was waiting for them not to catch you and let you fall into the dirt.”

“i didn’t see your dad here… guess he still regrets the decision to adopt you.” you click your tongue and he chuckles.

“okay, I’m going to give you that one.” you smile and shrug.

“what are you doing here, kent?” you question.

“you’re in my school’s football field, if there’s someone that should be here, it’s me.” he furrows his eyebrows.

“yeah no, after that nasty loss? might have to claim this as our territory now.” clark scoffs and looks down. “7-24? yikes!” you exclaim and inhale sharply through your teeth. “go home, kent, or else our team will show you no remorse.” you cross your arms together and he gets closer, towering over you.

“what about you? what will you do?” your eye contact is strong, and you’re teasing him with a cocky smile, but his charming eyes get you weak in the knees, you scoff and look down, giving in.

“i’m not going to do anything, i don’t have the heart.” you pursed your lips. in a blink, you notice clark’s hand shielding your face, in his hand was the football that connor, the linebacker from your team just threw. you didn’t even notice how badly you flinched, but you stayed still, staring at clark’s heroic move in awe, your eyes travel from his hand holding the football, to him. and you swear that something inside you snapped, the way he made the football stop from hitting you, how fast he reacted, that made you feel something you didn’t even know clark kent was possible of making you feel.

“holy—! i’m so sorry, y/n, i didn’t mean for it to go in your direction!” connor apologizes, but you shoot him a death glare.

“what the hell is your problem, connor?!” troy pushes connor and rolls his eyes.

“i didn’t mean to throw it at her! it was meant for kent!” clark rolls his eyes and throws the football back to him.

“thank you, kent.” you slowly straighten yourself up. “that was crazy, what on earth are you training for that makes your reflexes so fast?” you question and he just shrugs with a smile.

silence engulfs the two of you and it feels awkward, the only thing heard was the screaming and chanting of your cheerleading squad and the football team. clark’s eyes narrow from all around, to you, he feels nervous around you, but, the worst thing she can say is no, he thinks, so he—

“y/n.” he calls you and catches your attention. “i was thinking if maybe you’d like to hang out… later.” you shoot him a soft smile and he analyzes your reaction. “i mean, i-if you can, I’m sure you’re going to celebrate your win with your squad and team, nevermind..” he shakes his head, regretting he even asked you. ‘it’s not like she was going to go out with you anyway, clark, she’s with troy.’ he thinks. he thought it’d be game over until—

“no, i don’t plan on celebrating, i wanna be alone, you know? i don’t want to party or anything. i-i mean, I’d like to be alone with you.” you close your eyes and shake your head once you realize what you said. clark can feel the heatness creeping up his face and he laughs. “oh my gosh… i mean that like, yes! I’d like to hang out with you!” ‘jeez, no way I’m actually this awkward. I’m literally embarrassing myself oh my God, I’m going to cry’ you thought.

“great! maybe we can meet up in the beanery? it’s—“ your eyes widen and you shake your head.

“the beanery? that old thing?” you question and clark furrows his eyebrows.

“hey!” you raise your hands in defense.

“no, we’re going somewhere better, there’s this diner in central city called dine fine, we can go there, we can dine something or share a milkshake, whatever you’d like!” you smile at him and he nods.

“okay, sounds great! it’s a da—“ your smile turned into an annoyed look when you felt arms wrap around you and lips kiss your cheek. troy, your “boyfriend” watches clark’s expression change and shoots him a wink. clark can feel his face heat up, and it’s not blushing, or jealousy, he closes his eyes to avoid burning troy to a crisp.

“what’s up, kent?” troy greets clark with a bitch attitude. “she’s precious, isn’t she?” your eyes avoid troy’s, but are glued onto clark, and he can see you’re feeling uncomfortable, and you don’t know how badly he wants to smack the hell out of troy and tell him to back off from you. and he doesn’t know how badly you want him to do it. troy raises an eyebrow, urging him to answer the question.

“yes, she is, troy. you’re a lucky guy.” clark’s eyes never leave you, troy notices how yours don’t either, and his nose flares.

“i know.” he smiles. troy pulls you aside, away from clark. “hey, we’re going out to celebrate, you want us to go back to my place, or go out?” he asks you, and you pull away, shaking your head.

“it’s okay, troy, i don’t want to go out.” you cross your arms and troy smirks, he glances at clark behind you.

“okay, so, you want to go back to mine?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows.

“no.” troy’s eyebrows raise in reaction to your tone, and clark hides a smile, and forces back down his laugh.

“okay, whatever, we’re going to go out and celebrate, let me know if you change your mind.” you nod and he leaves. your friend alanna walks over to you and locks her arm around yours.

“ready to go?” she asks and you nod.

“yeah, give me a second, I’ll be right there.” your friend nods with a cute smile and her eyes narrow between you and clark before she walks to her car.

“so, I’ll see you maybe at 8?” clark questions.

you nod at his timing and he smiles. “I’ll see you there, kent.” you turn in your heels and walk to your friend's car.

clark admires you from head to heels and god, you in that skimpy cheerleading outfit did something to him. he blows out a breath after admiring your figure and smiles to himself, trying to hold back on his thoughts. he can’t believe he’s going to see you again later, and neither can you.

you tell alanna to take you to your grandma’s house so you can shower and change your clothes. since you visit your grandma quite often, you have clothes you wear once in a while there, so after a shower, you ready yourself and head to central city right after you’re done.

since alanna is heading to metropolis due to work, she gives you a ride to the diner where you are meeting up with clark. “have fun, sweetheart, love ya!” she blew you a kiss before driving away. you blew her a kiss back and waved goodbye.

you don’t see clark inside, but you decide to enter anyway, and just as you are a few feet away from the entrance doors, your name is called out, and when you look at where the voice is coming from you notice it’s clark, your face lights up, and so does his.

‘woah.’ clark thinks to himself, for some reason, he thinks you look better in casual clothes than in your cheerleading outfit. not that he’s complaining, he loves your cheerleading outfit, the colors favor you and it shows the perfect amount of everything.

‘damn.’ you think to yourself. he’s wearing a cap with a graphic tee that shapes his biceps perfectly. ‘forget the damn diner, I wanna dine him!’ you lick your lips to hide your smile at the thought.

“hey.” he greets you first with his pearly smile.

“hi.” you say right back and also give him your pearly smile.

he places his hand behind your shoulder and you lead the way, he opens the door for you and you go inside, the 80’s music is at the perfect volume, it smells amazing inside, and overall the vibe is nice.

you sit down at one of the benches and clark sits in front of you. “is there something you want in specific?” he asks.

“we could order some fries with some nuggets, unless you actually wanna find something?” your eyes meet and he stays silent, studying your eyes he opens his mouth to speak, yet nothing comes out. you laugh and look back at the menu.

“whatever you want.” clark answers your question. “I’m okay with whatever you decide.”

“okay, well, I’ll order some fries and nuggets, and ooh! you have to try their strawberry milkshake, it’s so good, so, we’re ordering that too!” clark’s eyes stay glued on you, your excitement makes his heart melt, he loves this side of you. ever since you moved to metropolis, he thought you’d turned into this cocky, mean, captain of the cheerleading squad, but, he’s been proven completely wrong. he still sees that little bullet of a girl with princess band-aids all over her arms, and legs in your personality. “is it okay if we order that?”

“as i said, y/n. whatever you want.” he nods and you smile widely with a chuckle. “you know, for some reason, i thought that when you moved to metropolis you turned into this mean, and cocky cheerleader, but no. can i ask? why aren’t you celebrating out there with your squad and team?”

“I’m nothing like that, the rest of my squad? maybe—except alanna! but i don’t like that whole cocky mean girl vibe, i tried it, just to fit in, but fitting in is stupid, so, outside i might seem like that, but once you get to know me, i’m not.” clark nods, paying his every single attention to you. “and the thing is i don’t celebrate with them because they have a really weird way of celebrating and i don’t want to be getting drunk or anything. I’d rather be relaxed, or hanging out with my real friends, you know?” clark nods.

“i like that.” your eyes find their way back to his and you smile. “i don’t want to sound nosy, but… you and troy?” he watches the drastic change in your face from happy to disgusted and he laughs. “that bad, huh?”

“it’s all fake. the football coach just wanted that typical “captain of the football team and captain of the cheerleading squad” love story, but, there’s not one ounce of love between us.”

“i mean, i see love in his eyes.” clark mentions and you scoff.

“lust is what you’re seeing, clark.” you hold your breath and clark closes his eyes. “i can’t stand him, he’s a jerk, he doesn’t take no for an answer and it’s the worst, someone always has to come in and step in, even his teammates.” you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” you dismiss him with a shrug. “i saw it in your eyes today, that’s what i saw, and i wanted to do something, but i thought it wasn’t my place. i should’ve done something. i hated seeing him on you like that.” clark shakes his head and looks away from your eyes, you place your hand on his forearm, your warm touch sends him goosebumps all over his body, your eyes speak a million words, and his mind runs a thousand thoughts as he takes in every inch of your perfect face, your eyes, your lips.

“thank you, for at least knowing the right thing to do. also, thank you for that crazy save from me getting hit by a football.” you both share a laugh and he nods. he places a hand over yours and smiles.

“you’re welcome, and, you’re welcome.” your smile relaxes into a softer one, and the two of you stay staring into each other’s eyes, no other words need to be spoken, your eyes already do.

his ocean eyes tell you everything you need to know, does he need to admit how he feels right now? his heart racing, how he wants to feel your soft hands all over his body? his eyes are saying all of that to yours.

and yours? your eyes are begging for him to save you. for him to make you forget who troy even is. one more look and you swear you’re moving back to smallville, or more specifically, his bed.

“clark…” the way his name rolls off your tongue is something he could never get tired of, he prays that whatever comes out of your pretty little mouth is an invitation.

“kent!” the familiar voice knocks you both out of your trance and your eyes widen. you look back and see troy and half of his teammates walk behind him. “you mind getting your hands off my girl?”

“troy…” you whisper.

“you shut up, okay? get in the car. we’re going back to metropolis.” troy points at you with his index finger, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“you call her your girl and then treat her like that?” clark raises an eyebrow and stands from the bench. your heart begins to race and not in a good way. there’s no possible way this is going to end well.

“she’s my girl, kent, that means that since she’s mine, i get to treat her however i want.” troy’s teammates share uncomfortable glances and shake their heads.

“she is not your pet, troy. you need to treat her right, like she’s the woman you love because that’s what she is, isn’t she?” clark towers over troy and you like that, you like that very much, apart from the fact that he’s defending you. but you push back your feelings and thoughts, because you’re scared right now, scared for both in reality.

“and if i don’t? you think you will? in your dreams, kent.” he scoffs, and walks over to you, grabbing your hand. “come on, y/n. we’re going home.” he raises you from your seat, and you stand beside him. just when you thought this could all end here, Clark decides to open his mouth.

“i would treat her better than you ever have.” your mouth opens, and you try your best to hide your smile. when troy’s grip around you loosens, your face drops.

next thing you see is troy swinging at clark with a right hook, you back away and troy’s teammates hold you back. “no!” you exclaim at troy’s punch. thankfully, clark reacted quickly and dodged it, but then, clark grabbed troy by the collar of his shirt and pressed him against the wall.

“clark, no!” you stop him from causing further damage and he slowly lets go of troy. you wanted to troy get what he deserved, but, just not now. the time will come. “let’s just go.”

“i don’t want to see you step foot in smallville again. if i so much as see your face, or hear that you did something to her, i’ll deal with you for good.” clark throws in before walking off. you follow behind him and leave the diner.

you were still trying to process what the hell just happened in there, clark defended you and went face-to-face with troy because he disrespected you. ‘oh my god?’

clark has his back against you, your eyes look up and he turns. “clark… what—“ you blink repeatedly.

“y/n. if he ever lays a single finger on you again, you let me know, alright?” you nod and hum. he nods and caresses your arm. “are you okay?” he asks and you hum.

“uh-huh…” clark chuckles and you inch closer to him.

you don’t exactly what you feel right now, but it feels good, and you hope he can help you with it because he’s the reason you’re feeling like this. your eyes are searching for an answer, ‘does he want this? because i sure do.’

“how far is your grandma’s house from here?” you pause in your daydreams to answer his question.

“like 15 minutes, i know the way.” you answer.

“okay, but, you’re not going alone.”

“why not? you don’t think i can handle myself?”

“oh, i know you can handle yourself, but, let me take you, ‘kay?” you smile at his offer and suck on your bottom lip before you lead the way.

the walk to your grandma’s house was silent, thankfully, it wasn’t uncomfortable silence, but the two of you were on the verge of speaking, you just had no idea of what. of the sexual tension before troy ruined it? of the almost fight? how clark defended you? why did he defend you exactly? God, you think that whatever the answer is, it’d land you both on top of each other.

clark can see how your heart is beating quickly, and he doesn’t know if it’s because you’re either scared, mad, nervous, or maybe just turned on. it’s the fourth option, you know that very well, but he thinks it’s the second.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” he speaks, breaking the eternal lasting silence between you two. “i-i didn’t mean to scare you or make you mad by what happened at the diner. it’s just… you don’t deserve that asshole.” the two of you stop in your tracks. you flutter your eyelashes at him and he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever, he swallows before speaking again. “and I’m also sorry that we didn’t get to share a milkshake.”

“apology not accepted,” you say. his face drops and your eyebrows furrowed. “they’re not needed, clark.” he sighs in relief and you smile. you continue your walk, you’re about 3 minutes away from your grandma’s house, but you wish it were hours instead, you do not want to say goodbye to him at all.

“i’m glad we could share this night, clark.” as you arrive at your grandma’s house, you stop your feet and turn to face him. the only light that’s making you able to see each other is your grandma’s porch lighting. “would’ve been better if we could’ve shared a milkshake, but…” you sputter and he chuckles.

“it’s okay, just a moment with you is enough for me.” his words made your knees weak, you lick your lips and suck your bottom lip in, close your eyes, and feel his index finger brushes your cheek. your eyes open and reunite with his.

“can we stay like this?” you whisper, as your eyes travel to his lips.

“yeah.” he whispers back, his finger still caressing your cheek.

his hand finds its way to your waist and he pulls you forward, your chest touching his, your breathing matches and you’re still deep into each other’s eyes.

‘if only he knew I’m sending him the most straightforward invitation to come inside.’ you think right as your eyes remove themselves from his lips and back into his eyes.

your tongue traces over your teeth and you smile. you look down to the ground and lean forward. you press a soft kiss on clark’s cheek and he closes his eyes. when you back away, your lips are so close to each other, and his eyes have the green light on for your lips to move to his, and as much as you want to, you don’t, though you could feel his slightly rose yours.

“i’ll be seeing you around, kent.” you smirk as you run your hand over his arms, again, your gentle touch sends goosebumps through his body, the second your fingertips are removed from his skin, he misses you already, all he wishes to do is turn you back around and make you all his for the rest of the night.

your heels touch the ground and you turn, approaching your grandmother’s steps, you tease him with a look back and a mocking grin, and he chuckles as he watches your expression. the second you enter the door he runs back to his house, but, safe to say that wasn’t the end of his night.

❛ ‘cause you’re a good girl and you know it

you act so different around me. ❜

[iniquitousyearning]

Ok but why is this so Tom coded??

PLS IM YEARNINGGGGGGG

[franzkafkagf]

queen PLEASE rewrite the brothel scene so it makes sense I BEG YOU.

Aegon stumbled into the brothel, the dim lighting and the overwhelming scent of cheap perfume and sweat wrapping around him, suffocating him. Martyn, Leon, Eddard, and Rodrick, Martyn’s new squire, followed him. Aegon's own face, flushed and unfocused from too much wine and ale, betrayed a desperate attempt to drown out unwelcome emotions.

“This place is as good as any to get it wet,” Aegon slurred, his arm slung over the squire’s shoulder. The boy, still green behind the ears, looked up at the king with wide, nervous eyes. “Time to make a man out of you, eh?” He punctuated the statement with a bawdy laugh, echoed half-heartedly by his friends.

The brothel was dimly lit, with curtains draped around, each one hiding unique secrets. Aegon staggered forward, yanking aside the first curtain he came to. Behind it, a couple gasped in surprise, but Aegon was already moving on, cursing under his breath. His mind was set on finding a particular woman—a distraction, an escape.

“Her name is Selyse or Selsie… or something like that,” Aegon continued, leaning heavily on the squire. “She’s great. Nothing like that woman’s touch to—hic—to forget your troubles.” His laugh was a bitter bark, masking the hollow ache in his chest.

He flung open another curtain, revealing yet another entangled pair, before stumbling on. Each step heavier than the last, the sounds of pleasure and the stuffy air seemed to close in on him. The sight of flesh and sweat did nothing to ease his mind; he still felt powerless, terribly powerless. King he might be, but even a crown couldn’t shield his family from harm.

Finally, he found her—the woman he sought. But instead of the welcome distraction he craved, he was met with a scene that stopped him cold. She was not alone. In her arms, naked and unashamed, was his brother, Aemond.

Aegon’s vision blurred, he did not know if he should laugh or scream. The room seemed to tilt as he stumbled forward, nearly ripping the curtain down in an attempt to steady himself. "Aemond the Fierce!” he roared. “Look at you!”

Aemond looked up at him, scrambling from the woman’s embrace and standing up to put on a robe. She herself shrank back too, pulling the sheets up to cover herself. The tension in the room was a tangible thing, crackling between the two brothers.

“You see, I do not exaggerate,” Aegon’s eyes flicked to his companions as he stumbled further into the room. His voice had an air of lightness to it—but it carried an undercurrent of anger, deep anger. “Such is the Madam’s prowess, that my brother does not want to sample another.”

“Tell me, brother.” Aegon clapped Aemond on the shoulder, too hard, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Was this where you were? With this whore while my son was being murdered? When Jaehaerys was breathing his last, were you still fucking your very first?”

Aemond’s face darkened, the shadow of guilt flickering across his features before being masked by a cold, defensive anger. “You think I didn't want to be there? You think I don’t wish I could’ve been there to fight off those cowardly assassins? I grieve my nephew too.”

“Grieve?” Aegon’s laughter was hollow and bitter. “If you hadn’t been busy killing Rhaenyra’s bastard, she’d never have sought retribution. If you’d been able to behave yourself, my son would still be alive!”

Aemond’s eye flashed with rage, but the truth in Aegon’s words was undeniable. “What of you, brother? Where were you? Drowning yourself in strongwine and whores—why didn’t you protect your son?” Aemond was facing his brother head-on now; years of resentment and anger finally flooding out of him. “You’re just as much at fault as I am. You’re a wastrel, Aegon, a weak and unworthy king.”

Aegon's face contorted with fury, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He remembered Larys’ words from before, could it truly be? Was his own brother planning to overthrow him?

“Plotting to take my crown, are you? Is that what this is all about?”

Aemond scoffed, “you think I want your crown? You can hardly keep it on your own head.”

Aegon saw red. His fist shot out before he could think, landing squarely on Aemond’s jaw. The force of the blow sent his brother staggering back. The woman yelped, scrambling off the bed, desperate to get away from the two.

Aemond seemed shocked for a moment before he launched himself at his brother. “You’ve always been a coward,” he shouted as the two tumbled to the ground in a flurry of fists and curses. “Hiding behind your whores and your wine!”

Aegon’s punches were wild and uncoordinated as he struck his brother again and again. “And you’ve always been a viper, waiting for your chance to strike!” His fist connected to Aemond’s ribs.

“You think I don’t suffer?” Aemond growled, landing a punch to Aegon’s side. “You think this is easy for me?”

The fight was brutal, raw, and undignified. It would have been embarrassing if it wasn't so profoundly sad—two brothers, driven by grief and guilt, lashing out at the only target they had left.

Martyn, unable to continue watching, forced his way between them. “Enough! Both of you, enough!” he shouted, pushing them apart with all his strength. “Calm down!”

Aegon struggled against Martyn’s grip, eager to keep fighting. “He’s a traitor, Martyn! A traitor!”

Aemond, chest heaving, wrenched free from Martyn’s grasp. “You're a fool, Aegon,” he spat before turning and striding away, leaving the room behind.

Aegon swayed on his feet, the room beginning to spin. His stomach churned, and he felt bile rise in his throat. With a groan, he doubled over and vomited onto the cushions.

Martyn knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Come, Your Grace,” he said, helping Aegon to his feet. “Let’s get you out of here.”

[sneverussape]

severus gasped and flinched away from lord riddle’s — tom, call me tom, your mother and i were housemates, merlin how time does fly? — touch. the man’s skin was uncannily cold, despite it being nearly summer. like a fish…or a snake.

there was a momentary panic as severus was convinced that the glamour he had painstakingly applied had failed, and he would have to explain his battered face to lucius and cissa. it would ruin the entire evening! fortunately, a cursory glance at one of the many mirrors that lined the hall showed him that the glamour had thankfully held.

but then…how…?

“it was well applied, i must congratulate you on that. very impressive for someone as young as you are.”

severus threw tom a look that was almost defensive. “i’m fourteen. i’m not that young.”

“of course,” tom looked amused. “i didn’t mean to offend. i merely wanted to recognize talent when i see it. you wouldn’t have been able to learn that until…hmmm…NEWT-levels perhaps?”

severus flushed. “it isn’t—” he found himself stammering, “it really isn’t that difficult. jus’ need to be resourceful. i made it for me...”

he bit his lip before he could speak any further and bury himself deeper into a hole. but it seemed tom had caught on well enough.

“I know that pain,” tom said quietly. “I’ve had to hold my own more than once a child.”

“you have?” severus couldn’t help asking. he couldn’t imagine tom having been in his place, at the bottom of the pile that had potter, black, lupin, and pettigrew up on top. he straightened, remembering his manners. cissa would cuff him mightily if she caught him slipping. “begging your pardon, sir. i did not mean to pry. I apologise.”

to his great surprise, tom laughed, wide and open, with his teeth glinting in the firelight.

“oh, severus, you remind me of myself when i was young,” he said. “i daresay brax was right about you.” at severus’ confused expression he explained further. “im a…teacher for…further studies you see. lord malfoy has been generous enough to send a kind word in about you.”

severus coloured for the second time that night. “he has?” he squeaked. he had rarely met lord malfoy but the little that he knew from lucius’ stories was enough to put a liberal amount of fear in him of the powerful wizard. he decided to add with haste, “lucius of course has been teaching me since I arrived in hogwarts, and narcissa too…”

“lucius is a worthy heir for the House of Malfoy, as narcissa is for the House of Black, but you mustn’t discount your own abilities, severus.” tom’s eyes seemed to flash red as he held severus’ awed gaze, but it was gone in the next moment. “you have determined simpler but more effective ways of doing level 6 potions. you’ve invented charms your own professors couldn’t have dreamed of. you can break down spells into their most basic elements and refashion them for your purposes. your excellent glamour is proof!”

tom leaned down to his eye level, and severus held his breath.

“you have the potential to be one of the greatest wizards since merlin, and believe me, i don’t say that lightly. you are utterly brilliant, severus snape. i see your wonderful mind and your desire for knowledge, and i would be glad for you to be my pupil.”

“oh yes!” severus nodded before he could stop himself. his heart was thudding hard against his chest. “is it…er…is it for the summer hols?” his gut churned as he realised it might even have a fee. shite. “and…i’d have to ask mam and my da in case there’s payment…”

to his surprise tom waved him off. “there is no payment, you don’t need to worry. all I need is a willing heart and a brilliant mind. also im afraid i only start taking in pupils once they’ve reached the age of majority.”

“sixteen?” severus’ face fell. that was years away!

“if you would still be willing by that time, I’ll be happy to have you,” tom said. “i can save you a spot. mind that you keep learning, however. i won’t accept anything less than your best. and you must keep our conversation a secret. it isn’t my habit to hand out personal invites.”

“of course!” severus felt almost smug. he could wait two years. “you won’t regret having me.”

tom’s lips curved upward into a wide smile.

“no, i don’t believe I will.”

—

au/hc where severus meets tom at lucius’ leaving party at malfoy manor.

fun fact: the painting behind them is the missing carvaggio, Nativity (bit of a heavy-handed symbolism but i couldn’t help it lol). it’s been missing (from the muggle world at least) since 1969. 😎 guess lu has a not-so secret hobby.

[almondcroissantsandink]

faux book cover for the fic Mr. Bluesky by omnidirectional because i read it a few weeks ago, it rattled around in my brain for a while, and I realized i had to draw something for it lol

[tomboxed]

johnny from my au :3

+ his boyfriend too

[sabrinasopposite]

santa doesn’t know u like i do ⋆⁺₊❅。

clark kent x fem! reader

i’ve been there through the good and bad

know how to make you laugh

kiss all your tears away, babe

only I can do that

summary °❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ : its christmas eve in smallville and y/n can’t wait till tomorrow to give her self-made gift to clark kent.

The snow fell gently, blanketing Smallville in a shimmering hush, as though the world had been tucked into a silver-white quilt. Even the stars seemed to lean closer, curious to watch the scene unfold below. Y/N tugged her scarf tighter, her breath unfurling in soft clouds as she stepped lightly through the snow. Each crunch of her boots on the frosted path felt impossibly loud in the stillness, but her heart raced faster with every step, urging her forward.

When she reached Clark’s barn, the wooden door creaked softly as she pushed it open. A faint golden glow spilled out, illuminating the snow beneath her feet. Inside, the air was warm, infused with the scent of hay, woodsmoke, and something uniquely Clark—a comforting mixture of earthiness and calm.

Her gaze lifted to the loft, where light danced across the beams. She climbed the ladder carefully, peeking over the edge. The sight that greeted her made her heart skip a beat.

Clark was sprawled on a makeshift couch by the loft window, wrapped in a knitted blanket. A steaming mug of cocoa rested in his hand, and an open book lay balanced on his lap. The soft light made his features look impossibly gentle, his messy hair haloed by the glow. He looked like a painting—perfect and timeless.

At the creak of the ladder, he glanced up, his blue eyes widening for a moment before softening into a smile that warmed her more than the stove below.

“Y/N?” he said, setting his book aside. “What are you doing out here?”

“I...” She hesitated, her cheeks blooming pink. “I wanted to see you.” Her voice was soft, almost shy. “Merry Christmas, Clark.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, his smile growing. “But it’s freezing outside. You could’ve waited until tomorrow.”

Y/N laughed, the sound filling the space like the chime of distant bells. She reached under her coat and pulled out a small package, its crimson wrapping crinkling in her hands. “I couldn’t wait. I wanted to give you this.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing grin as he accepted the gift. “And here I thought Santa was the one sneaking into barns at night.”

“Santa doesn’t knit scarves,” she retorted, crossing her arms in mock indignation before breaking into a laugh.

He unwrapped the package carefully, his fingers brushing over the soft red scarf inside. His grin softened into something tender as he held it up, running his thumb along the stitches. “You made this?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “I thought it might keep you warm up here. It’s not perfect, but—”

“It’s perfect,” he interrupted, already wrapping it around his neck. “I love it.”

Her heart swelled, and she looked down, pretending to straighten her coat to hide her smile. “I’m glad.”

Clark set his cocoa aside and walked to a small table tucked into the corner of the loft. From underneath it, he pulled out a box wrapped in silver ribbon. “Your turn,” he said, his tone a little more nervous now. “I, uh, didn’t know how to wrap this very well, but...” He trailed off, holding the box out to her.

Y/N took it, her fingers trembling slightly as she untied the ribbon. Inside, nestled against soft velvet, was a delicate necklace. The pendant was a heart, small and simple, but it seemed to shimmer with its own quiet light.

“Clark...” she whispered, her voice catching. “It’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you,” he said quickly, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “Something simple but... special. And full of love.” He scratched the back of his neck, his eyes flicking nervously to hers. “I just... wanted you to have it.”

Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, echoing her earlier words.

He stepped behind her, brushing her hair aside as he fastened the necklace around her neck. His fingers lingered on her skin for a moment longer than necessary, and when he stepped back, his eyes traced the way the pendant rested just above her heart.

“Something beautiful,” he said softly, “just like you.”

Y/N reached up to touch the pendant, feeling its weight, its meaning. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but they didn’t fall. Instead, she looked at him with all the love she felt, unable to find words big enough to hold it. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I love it.”

Clark’s expression melted into something impossibly tender, his voice low as he replied, “I love you.” He reached for her hands, threading his fingers through hers.

For a moment, they stood there, the world outside the barn fading into nothingness. The snow whispered against the roof, the stars glittering beyond the window, but all Y/N could feel was the warmth of Clark’s presence, the steady beat of love between them.

Then, with a sudden grin, Clark reached to the side and held up a sprig of mistletoe. “I figured I’d keep this handy,” he said, his voice playful but his gaze filled with affection.

Y/N laughed, her breath misting between them. “You really planned this, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he teased, leaning closer. “But I’d call it good planning.”

Their lips met, soft and unhurried, a kiss that felt like the first brush of sunlight after a long winter. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, warm and steady, that even the coldest nights couldn’t touch.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, her voice a whisper. “Merry Christmas, Love.”

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart,” he replied, his voice as steady and full of warmth as the glow in his eyes. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

And as they settled back onto the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, the barn seemed to hold its breath around them, cradling their love like a secret too precious to let go.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 merry (early) christmas to everyone! its my gift to u and i hope u like a clark kent!

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ taglist: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23

[deansbeer]

★ in his arms, the world fades // clark kent.

synopsis. feeling unwell and overwhelmed, you seek comfort in clark's arms. his warmth, soothing touch, and sweet words make the ache in your stomach—and your heart—feel bearable.

warning(s). fluff | comfort | f!reader | s1!clark | reader feels unwell stomach aches | nausea | difficulty eating | mild angst | distressing moments | academic stress | brief mentions of exams | studying | cuddling | kisses | superman references.

kari yaps. last night, i had horrible stomach pains and wrote this <333 + a lil disclaimer! i'm on ep 5 of smallville (the ads on hulu r mad annoying) so i only know a little about clark. but don't worry i will get to know all ab pookie soon !!! trust <33

it starts with the ache. sharp and twisting, like someone's wringing your stomach out like a wet rag. it's been days now—days of barely keeping food down, of your appetite wavering between nothing and everything, only for nausea to win every time. eating has become a battle, and losing feels inevitable. but you haven't told anyone, not really. maybe it's pride. maybe it's not wanting to worry anyone. maybe you're just hoping it'll go away on its own.

still, it lingers, and today's no different. you pull up to the kent farm, the gravel crunching under your tires, the sight of the red barn and yellow farmhouse somehow grounding you. you're supposed to be here to study. algebra—not exactly something you're excited about, but clark's always been good at making the hard stuff easier. it's one of the many things you love about him: his patience, his steadiness, the way he seems to know when you need a little extra reassurance. and maybe you need that today more than ever.

"hey, pretty girl," clark greets you at the door, his smile soft and familiar, like it's meant just for you. "you okay? you look…" he trails off, squinting at you in that way he does when he's trying to figure you out. "…tired."

you force a smile, shrugging it off. "just didn't sleep much last night."

it's not a lie, exactly. the ache had kept you up most of the night, twisting and turning beneath the covers, unable to find a position that didn't make it worse. but clark doesn't need to know that. not right now.

he nods, stepping aside to let you in. "i made us some lemonade," he says as you follow him up the stairs to his room. "my mom said it's good for focus or something. i don't know, but it tastes good."

you hum in response, though the thought of drinking anything right now makes your stomach churn. you'll figure out a way to avoid it later.

when you get to his room, it's the same as always—neat but lived-in, the bed made but the desk cluttered with papers and books, a small stack of cds next to his stereo. it smells faintly of pine and something distinctly clark, like sun-warmed hay and fresh laundry. it's comforting in a way you didn't realize you needed.

you settle on the floor with him, textbooks and notebooks spread out between you. he's already flipping through his algebra book, pen tapping idly against his knee as he scans the pages.

"okay," he says, glancing at you with a smile. "where should we start? graphing inequalities or quadratic equations?"

you groan, letting your head fall back against the bed. "do we have to start?"

he chuckles. "the exam's next week. i don't think mr. phillips is gonna let us wing it."

"worth a shot," you mutter, but you sit up anyway, flipping open your notebook to a blank page. you try to focus, really, but the ache is still there, dull and persistent, and it's hard to think about numbers and graphs when all you want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep.

half an hour in, you're staring at your notebook, pen tapping against the paper. clark's voice is distant as he explains something about parabolas, the words blurring together in your head. you're not even sure when you stopped listening. all you know is that your chest feels tight, your stomach twists again, and suddenly, you just can't anymore.

"hey," clark says, his voice soft with concern. "what's wrong?"

you don't answer, don't even look at him. instead, you set your notebook aside, shifting closer to him until you're wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the crook of it. his skin is warm against your cheek, the faint scent of his cologne lingering there. you don't say anything, and neither does he, not at first. he just sits there, still and quiet, letting you hold on like he's been expecting this all along.

then, slowly, he moves. his arms come around you, strong and steady, and he shifts your things aside before effortlessly pulling you up with him onto the bed. his back hits the mattress, and you're lying on top of him, your head resting against his chest. his hands find your back, warm and soothing as they rub up and down in slow, gentle strokes.

you close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. his touch is enough to warm you, enough to quiet the ache in your stomach, at least for now. you don't know how he does it—how he makes everything feel a little less heavy just by being there.

your hands move to rest on his collarbone, fingers brushing against the fabric of his t-shirt. the side of your head presses against his chest, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. it's grounding in a way you didn't know you needed.

he doesn't say anything at first, just keeps rubbing your back, his touch slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly how to calm you down. but then he starts murmuring soft, sweet things in your ear, his voice low and soothing.

"you're okay," he says, his lips brushing against the top of your head. "whatever it is, you're okay. i've got you."

his hand moves to rest on the side of your head, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your hair. he presses another kiss to your temple, then another, each one softer than the last.

"you don't have to say anything," he whispers. "just let me hold you."

and you do. you let yourself relax against him, let yourself melt into his warmth. his chest rises and falls beneath you, steady and strong, and you match your breathing to his without even realizing it. the ache in your stomach is still there, but it feels distant now, muted by the way his hands move against your back, by the way his voice wraps around you like a blanket.

"you know," he starts after a while, his voice still soft, "i'm not great at algebra either. but i'm pretty sure lying here with you is a way better use of my time."

you let out a quiet laugh, your breath fanning against his chest. "you're supposed to be the responsible one."

"yeah, well," he murmurs, his fingers threading through your hair, "even superheroes need a break sometimes."

you tilt your head to look up at him, catching the small smile playing on his lips. "superhero, huh?"

"what? you didn't know?" his grin widens, teasing. "i'm kind of a big deal."

you roll your eyes, but there's no real bite to it. "you're ridiculous."

"maybe," he says, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "but i made you laugh, didn't i?"

you hum in response, letting your head fall back against his chest. the silence that follows is comfortable, the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket. his hand moves back to your back, tracing slow, lazy patterns against your spine.

"i mean it, though," he says after a while, his voice quieter now. "whatever's going on, you don't have to go through it alone. you can tell me."

"i know," you whisper, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "i just… i don't know. i've been feeling off lately. stomach stuff. it's probably nothing."

he frowns, his hand pausing mid-stroke. "how long?"

"a few days," you admit. "it's not a big deal. it'll pass."

"you don't know that," he says gently. "have you eaten today?"

you hesitate, and that's enough of an answer for him. he sighs, his hand resuming its slow movements against your back.

"you're stubborn, you know that?" he murmurs, but there's no heat behind it. just concern, soft and steady, like everything else about him.

"takes one to know one," you shoot back, your voice muffled against his chest.

he chuckles, the sound rumbling beneath you. "fair enough. but promise me you'll let me know if it gets worse, okay?"

"okay," you say, and you mean it. because if anyone can make you feel like everything's going to be okay, it's clark.

you stay like that for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. the algebra books are forgotten, but neither of you seems to care. right now, this is enough. he's enough.

and for the first time in days, the ache in your stomach feels bearable.

⎯⎯ SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @st4rfckerz @jasvtsc . . . ୨୧

[blackynsupremacy]

Movie Nights + Tickle Fights

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

pairing: clark kent x black!chloe sullivan

casting: tom welling and kelly rowland

contains: lots of words, fluff, romance, mutual pining, a bit of shyness, established relationship, chloe is a bit stubborn, playful banter, a bit of a makeout session, brief descriptions of gore and blood.

taglist: @rosiestalez @afrowrites @afrogirl3005

@yugiohio

summary: ever since they were in middle school, clark and chloe would have a movie night every other weekend at her place. this is the first one they’ve had since they became an official couple and chloe suggests they watch a horror movie tonight. clark is apprehensive because each time they’ve tried to watch one in the past, chloe would be too scared to finish it and won’t go to sleep. chloe ain’t no punk, so she makes a wager with her boyfriend.

the amber glow of the lamps that sat on the tables on either side of the long, cushioned sofa lit up the sullivan’s living room to set the exact ambience that chloe was going for. the soles of her bare feet made a soft, yet fervent patting sound on the hardwood floors as she paced back and forth to make sure everything was in its right place and that she was prepared with the necessities that her and her anticipated company would have everything they need for the night. she began to conjour up a mental checklist of the final details: collections of dvds? check. several tubs of ice cream purchased on dad’s credit card? check. warm and cozy blankets with pillows that are the right amount of fluff for cuddling? check.

chloe stopped her pacing to observe her figure in the living room mirror. the grey tank top she adorned exposed a bit of her waist and was met with a pair of white sweat pants. it wasn’t like he hadn’t had a glimpse of her bronze colored skin before considering it was part of her signature look in the daily rotation of outfits she owned. as she was adjusting the paisley patterned bandana that was secured on top of her black cherry highlighted bob that was perfectly curled at the ends, her stomach tingled with a rush of anxiety, but elation. this company she was expecting wasn’t just any company. this was clark kent. her best friend since the 7th grade and currently her first, serious relationship.

oh, no. this wasn’t just some casual, testing–the– waters type of connection. chloe and clark were locked in for real this time. no games, no ultimatum with smallville’s local sweetheart, it was just a real bond that got stronger no matter how much the circumstances tried to sever it. clark and chloe made the choice to be with each other and there was no regrets by either of them. the best part about this friendship turned budding romance was that this was someone she truly knew and truly loved. clark kent was her first, real, love since their youth. first loves can either be blissful or painful. trust and believe that chloe sullivan has experienced both at such an intensity. the source of bliss was just clark being…clark! the type of boy you bring home to mama well—dad in her case. his benevolence, humility, intelligence, charisma, empathy, and loyalty was a full package of its own. not to mention that clark was fine as hell! there are some cuties here and there at their school, but chloe believed that clark was too handsome to even be from this planet. he usually kept to himself, but whether he knew it or not, the girls were checking for the 6’3 raven haired, aqua eyed male always strolling in his signature flannel, jeans, and boots combo—and chloe was no different. these things alone gave her something more than butterflies and she learned to put more trust in him despite his…quirks.

now, even though they were tight for a good minute they definitely had some disagreements over the years about issues like the torch, clark’s weird secrecy, her natural nosiness as a journalist, clark not getting his priorities together when it came down between chloe and lana lang, his stubbornness and the type of guys she’s seeing that clark warns her about like she was his girl (he was right sometimes). sometimes these arguments would get so heated, one of them would cross a line to the point where they wouldn’t cross paths at school, that was the worst part. they eventually apologize, hug it out, and keep keepin’ on. even in the middle of a fight, when it really came to it, they were still down for each other!

they’ve always had movie nights over the years, but it was just a friendly kickback where they crack jokes, binge on junk food, and watch an R-rated movie from the secret stash when they knew they were just 13. that was very much platonic–until now. in a way, it was sort of like a first date, most couples would probably prefer a fancy restaurant, a picnic or night out in metropolis, but as along as chloe had clark by her side, she didn’t care where they were. she’s not tripping because they just started making things exclusive between them, so they’ll get there soon. she couldn’t help, but let a wide smile spread as her face heated up at thought of him.

speaking of her boyfriend. as if on cue, chloe’s train of thought came to halt when she heard the high pitched ring of the doorbell. her eyes shifted to the ticking clock on the wall that clearly read 8:00 PM on the dot. she shook her head to bring herself back to planet earth before taking a deep breath and power walking to the door. she elevated her bare heels off the floor to peer through the peephole because you’ll never know who’s really there until you check. she lovingly sighed with relief as her boyfriend’s tall frame came into the view of the circular looking glass. he looked like his hands were tucked behind his back. chloe assumed it was just the rest of the snacks that clark agreed to pick up for the evening. the smile on her face doesn’t leave her glossed lips as she took the opportunity to unlock and turn the doorknob to the right before she finally removed the barrier that stands between them.

“hey, hey!” she greeted him, flashing a smile. her voice in her head register due to her excitement yet her nerves wrestling in her stomach. she swallowed it down and took a step back, so that he could enter through the door. “come on in! you’re right on time and i see that you’ve come bearing gifts?” she quipped, crossing her arms and leaning a bit to the left to peek at what was concealed behind his back. clark chuckled and flashed his own award winning smile. his cheeks tinted a light pink before he replied, “hey! i’m glad because i thought i was too early. oh, yeah! i stopped by the store and got some of our favorite toxic waste.” one of his arms came from behind to reveal two plastic bags filled with snacks and sodas for both of them to enjoy. “i used all my savings to make sure we had enough to last us through the night and i got you these…”

chloe’s brown eyes gazed down at the bouquet of pink peony tulips that were beautifully arranged and by judging of the vibrant, blush hue of the petals, they were obviously home grown and well taken care of before being delicately packaged. her pupils dilated at the bouquet as he set the bags down on a nearby table to take a step closer to her, the tulips the only thing in between them. she felt the temperature of her face rise again. her gleaming smile meeting clark’s before shifting her eyes to the flowers in his large hand. “clark i—thank you so much! you know you didn’t have to—“ he cut her sentence short. “no, chloe, i wanted to. i’ve realized that this is the first time we’ve spent some time alone since we’ve made things official and even though it’s not on a big, fancy date, i wanted to show you that this night is special to me just as it is to you, so that’s why i wanted to show up with more than just the usual teeth-rotting junk.” they briefly laugh before he resumes speaking, “so with a lot of help from my mom, we grew these fresh on the farm and she said they represent ‘a perfect love and a new beginning’ chloe, i want this new beginning for us to start on the right foot. we’ve definitely had our share of differences in the past, but you’re someone i can always count on especially considering my—flaws and that’s why i want—no, need to stay by your side.” his proclamation was then cut short when chloe fills in the gap between them by embracing her arms around his torso, her head nuzzling securely on his chest. clark doesn’t hesitate as his own arms find their place around her upper body, bringing her in closer. his chin rested atop of her head, he can still inhale the familiar scent of the blue magic hair dress moisturizer she uses daily through the bandana.

“and i thought i could talk, but it seems i’ve truly met my match.” she murmured, listening to the sweet music of his heartbeat. “clark, i don’t care where we are or what we’re doing, i just want it to be with you and that’s more than enough for me.” she lifted her head to catch her gaze with his. her right hand slithering out from behind his back to delicately touch his beautifully sculpted jaw, the pad of her thumb slowly moving back and forth across his skin as she took a second to admire the contrast of their respective skin tones complimenting each other. “this love here will be imperfect. any love is, but there’s no one else i’d rather do it with.” she finally spoke before her toes aid in lifting her face up closer to his, placing a soft, yet lingering kiss on his cheek and she looked back to see that the boy’s face had matched the rosy hue of the flowers he’d given her. not only that, a bit of her glittering lip gloss left an imprint.

she lets out a laugh and wipes the residue off with her thumb. “my bad, clark! but, seriously this means so much to me. thank you.” she momentarily breaks the embrace and takes a step back to retrieve the flowers, butterflies emerging in her abdomen as their hands meet again to make the exchange. chloe takes a few seconds to truly admire the gift from the farm boy, bringing the flowers to her nose to take in their intoxicating scent. “you and miss martha really put in that work, huh? they smell and look amazing!” he admires her as she fawns over the flowers.

“you look amazing.” he chimed in. a smirk rising on his lips as he watched her take a pause. damn, that farm boy charm will always work in his favor. that compliment almost caused her brain to completely malfunction. chloe playfully rolls her eyes, a cheesy grin playing on her face as she walks to find an empty vase to fill with water before putting the flowers in. if this boy is saying this while i’m just in a tank and sweats, imagine if—girl, you better stop! she shuts down her inner voice before she responds, “aw, i appreciate it, boo! but flattery doesn’t get you off the hook from popcorn duty. you know where to find everything. i’m in charge of picking out the movie, so get on it!” playfully, she tapped him on the arm and picked up the bags of the other snacks, bringing them to the coffee table set before the sofa. clark snickered, shaking his head. yep, that’s the chloe i certainly know.

he nodded, accepting the task and made his way to the kitchen. he rummaged around in the sullivan’s pantry to retrieve one of the several packages of jiffy pop. he took a quick glance behind him to find chloe herself searching meticulously for a film to watch. he noticed how she furrowed her brows with focus as she read the titles and descriptions from front to back. her face scrunching up in disapproval before putting the vhs back in its rightful place on the shelf. she was definitely preoccupied enough for clark to turn his head back to the raw, packaged corn kernels that were sitting atop the stove. his pupils focused on the object for a few seconds as the heat started to radiate from his eyes. the foil began to expand wider the longer he stared. after about a minute and a half, clark, feeling accomplished at how much of a handle he’s got on his newfound ability, decided that the popcorn was prepared to perfection. he poured the snack into a large bowl for the couple to share and sauntered in the living room as his enhanced hearing picked up on sound of the mumblings of his girlfriend.

“no…no… ha, yes! got it.” chloe beamed triumphantly, holding the tape with her back to clark.

“it sounds like you’ve struck gold, so i’m guessing you’ve finally chosen what we’re watching tonight?” he questioned placing the popcorn down on the coffee table before making his way in her direction to stand behind her. his towering height made it possible to see the title cover of the film she carried. his eyebrows furrow before one of them raises.

“you want to watch ‘scream’ ? chlo’, i’m not sure that’s a good idea.” clark advises with a reluctant expression, placing his palm on her shoulder.

“what? why not, clark? i didn’t want to put on something cheesy. it’s been a minute since we’ve seen a good scary movie, you know. you’re not scared are you?” she seemed puzzled that this boy who has faced individuals that fit the criteria of her “wall of weird” at the torch would be frightened of a slasher film until he replied, “it’s not me that i’m worried about. it’s you. i remember when we were 12, you wanted us to watch ‘a nightmare on elm street’ and when it was over, you begged me to stay up all night with you watching ‘blues clues’, so you wouldn’t get nightmares—we haven’t watched a horror movie ever since. i didn’t really mind back then, but that worried me.”

chole dismissed his plea before turning her body to his, still looking down at the tape.

“mmcht! c’mon, clark. that was like what—almost 4 years ago? for one, i’m grown…ish! for two, i ain’t no punk because the way things are set up in smallville, i’ve faced worse than fine ass psychotics playing dress up and stabbing horny teens. you really don’t think i can handle it?” she challenged. a gaze of intrigue played in her eyes and she crossed one arm across her exposed stomach as her hand fidgeted with the tape.

“it’s not that i don’t think you can handle it, chloe. maybe you chose it because—“ he took a beat of pause, licking his lips before taking one inch closer to his girlfriend and adjusting his knee to meet her height and utter softly in her ear. “it’s just an excuse to get closer to me. the more i think about it, the more i think how adorable it is!”he stood back up to his previous position, cheekily grinning at chloe’s “pissed” reaction. a hearty, but dry faux chuckle leaves her lips.

“oh, ho ho. so you think i’m trying to get right? don’t get too hot, now. watch me sit through this movie without flinching. matter of fact, i’ll bet you twenty dollars and a week of free lattes from the talon that i can watch this movie and sleep like a baby. all. night. long.” she sized him up (the best she knew how) and pointed her finger on his very toned chest. lord, help me. this was the wrong time to start getting flustered right now.

“come on, chloe i don’t think—“

“what, clark? you scared? you know there’s something in it for you if you so happen to win. tell me what you want.”

he froze upon seeing her face this close. a teasing glint playing in those deep earthly pools of brown. her perfectly arched brow raising above the other as a smirk formed on her naturally lined lips. the shine of her lip gloss still hasn’t diminished from that kiss she laid on his crimson face earlier. clark wondered just how much—how much more would it take to get all that glittering substance removed from her lips? this was a challenge that he was willing to take on. only if she’s down for it of course, clark wouldn’t do anything that she wasn’t comfortable with and vice versa. he reciprocated the smirk to match her energy before responding,

“that’s for me to know and for you to find out. as a journalist, it shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

she snickered, shaking her head. typical clark. always playing “the man of mystery” all too well.

“it’s a bet. you better get that allowance ready to blow on your girl’s caffeine addiction.” she says before taking a step back and holding out her hand to shake.

“all i can say is may the best one win.” clark humbly utters giving her hand a firm, kent handshake to finalize the deal. he won’t say it, but he’s got this in the bag. he takes it upon himself to let chloe find her position on the sofa while he inserts the tape into the vcr. after pressing the “play” button, he returns to comfortably take a seat next to where chloe’s sitting with the bowl of popcorn on her lap for both of them indulge in. he places one arm along the back of the couch behind her shoulders and the other, reaching for the buttery snack.

the film opens as drew barrymore’s “casey” is conversing on the phone with the deep voice of an unknown man who calls her by mistake, but he wants to keep talking. there is some mild flirting between the two and he’s asking her questions such as what her favorite scary movie is and if she has a boyfriend. things then take a turn when he reveals that he’s been watching her the whole time that they’ve been on the phone. the scene heightens with suspense as the girl is locking doors, constantly looking over her shoulders, and aggressively threatens to call the police on this creep. chloe absentmindedly scoots an inch closer to clark as she watches, not knowing that he’s glancing at her through his peripheral vision. his heightened sense of hearing picking up the sound of the silent gulp run down her throat and heart rate increase in tempo by the time they watch the cloaked figure run through the house looking for his next victim after he guts the battered and bloodied football player from the inside out with a hunting knife. with each minute of the scene proceeding, she just got a little bit closer to the point her forearm was touching the side of his torso. with her this close in proximity, it sounds like her heart was going to leap from her chest! clark was now starting to get concerned, so he taps her shoulder and leans in to whisper in her ear.

“hey, are you okay? we can just drop the bet and watch something else, chloe. i want to make sure that both of us have a good time tonight, okay?” he peers his baby blues to her brown with the gentleman-like sincerity that martha and jonathan definitely raised him with. the hand that was behind her shoulders came slowly in contact with her skin to bring her in closer and reassuringly caress her forearm. chloe knew that clark’s eye contact had better communication than his mouth sometimes, so she knew he was really looking out for her. a smile was growing on her face as her affection, gratitude, and respect grew for him. ugh—what a man. it’s just those little things that he does that’s always a reminder to her of “why him?” why not him? god, if it wasn’t so soon she would just blurt out those three little words, but there was another three she had to confess to end this wager—forfeiting. she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak before she was interrupted by a shrill sound,

“clark, i—“

“RRRRRIIIIIIINGGGG!”

her head turns quickly to the spiral, corded landline hanging on the wall in between the kitchen and living room, waiting for her to accept the call. she then turns to clark, “let me get that real quick. pause the movie till i get back?” clark gives her nod, removing his arm from around her, and pressing the “pause” button on the remote. she rises from the sofa and trudges towards the phone, inwardly groaning at whoever the hell may be calling to interrupt this moment with her boyfriend. her hand reaches to pick up the receiver and puts it to her ear and provides the customary “hello?” to the caller. clark sits patiently as his ears pick up on the conversation to make sure everything’s alright.

“oh, hey dad!”

that’s right! her father, gabe, was spending the weekend in metropolis for a deal he needed to close on for the plant. he continued to listen.

“nothing, just having a movie night with clark. you know, like when we were kids?…. yeah, yeah we’ll make sure to clean up! is everything alright in metropolis? … that’s what’s up! i’m glad to hear that…no. no, dad—we are not doing that! lalalala! i can’t hear you! … seriously we just started dating, so no….yes, sir. i’ll tell him you said ‘hi.’ okay, we will…i love you, too. bye, daddy!”

she hurriedly hangs up the phone feeling mortified at her father’s forwardness. as she walks back she proceeds to dish out the details of the conversation. the highlight of it was that gabe suggested they’d “use protection” just in case because he was a “teenager once and he refuses to see his daughter end up like so and so’s daughter”, earning a flustered laugh from each other.

the laughing died down. chloe cleared her throat to resume her previous sentence in a low voice as the heat of embarrassment hit her face.

“you, win clark…”

now matter how quiet the volume of her voice was, clark heard it loud and clear. now, it was time to put his plan in action. with a mischievous grin he leaned in for her to repeat the sentence.

“i’m sorry? i don’t think i heard you that first time you’re gonna have to speak up, chlo’. “

she grumbles, “i said you win, clark.”

“i still can’t hear you, sweetheart. i guess you leave me no choice…” he teases, the pitch of his voice lowers as he draws his body closer to her on the sofa much like a crouching predator about to pounce on its prey. clark’s large hands were aiming to hover each side of her waist. chloe chuckles as the nerves of excitement yet anticipation shoot through her veins while she scoots herself backwards to create distance. a hint of playful fear curves on her full lips. she moves so far back that her spine falls against the cushion. clark’s smirking face now hovering over his giggling girlfriend still trying to play that stubborn act he knows too well.

“chloe sullivan, i’ll give you one last chance to admit your defeat out loud or else, you’ll have to suffer the consequences!” he states not daring to keep his eyes of her own, a sound of determination in his tone.

“clark kent, if you don’t back up! now, i know you heard me. just what the hell are you do—no, no! d-don’t! ah haha haha! stop!” chloe squeals after clark swiftly dives forward rapidly moving his digits along her waist. her body squirming trying to escape from his grip. it was futile! as the laughter takes over her system, her body gets weaker under his touch. chloe’s contagious symphony of laughter didn’t take long for clark’s own chortles to harmonize. his pearly canines are exposed as his ears and heart are captivated by the pure tone of their happiness. his fingers take a pause.

“come on, chloe! repeat what you said!” he teasingly declares.

“n-no, you’ve heard me! i s-swear, clark! hahaha! she stubbornly squeaked out when she felt his fingers resume their attack on the tender area of her ribs. her sounds increasing in volume when he proceeded to apply a bit of pressure to her skin. the more stubborn she is, the more relentless he gets. during their friendship, he was kind of used to chloe bossing him around like an unpaid intern while she held down “the torch”. proofreading and editing articles, doing research, getting her coffee, you name it. clark knew it was about time to get his lick back! his fingers don’t stop at her ribs before they ascend to the sides of her neck. that’s exactly what got her. “stop— i can’t! p-please, clark! i’ll say it, haha! you win, clark, you win! i got scared!”

clark ceases his movements before his hands fall on either side of chloe’s neck as her voice diminishes. the couple has a stare down as the room is now filled with labored breathing as their chests rapidly heave, rising and falling until they reach the steady rhythm. clark breaks the silence.

“say it again.” he urges softly. his arched raven toned brows raise slightly, his oceanic gaze softens against her dark amber. the corners of his lips curving into a victorious smile of a bonafide winner.

“you win.” she confesses in a volume clear enough to accept her defeat, but the steady beat of her heart raced the longer she peered into his eyes. her own pupils wielding affection at the satisfied grin plastered across his face. a sense of playfulness washed over her as she knew he was eating up his opportunity at having the upper hand this time. whether one be victorious or defeated, clark and chloe would still find that common bliss between each other and for each other. it was now chloe’s turn to break the silence.

“now what was that prize you wanted so badly that it was worth hiding, hm?” she inquires, quirking her brow.

ready?

his pupils briefly focus on the lingering coat of shine on her lips. he gulps, licking his own nervously before taking a breath and a leap of courage.

aim.

“i’d like the pleasure of taking off your lip gloss —only if that’s okay with you, of course. it’s no pressure.” his face moves in closer as his right thumb inches to the side of her jawline to caress her sun-adored skin. his eyes shift from hers to her awaiting mouth again. the touch alone sends a surge of electric warmth through the young couple.

at first, his phrase left her puzzled. what does he mean by that? is there something wrong with my lip—oh. ooooh! you got that one, clark. the heat seeped into her face as realization settled in after she mentally put the together the pieces within seconds. girl, what the hell are you waiting for!? give that boy what you’ve been wanting to give him for years!

her conscience finally breaking out of her train of thought before she finally gives him the answer to cease the suspense once and for all.

“yeah, clark. go for it!” she whispers softly, titling her face up a bit forward to meet him halfway.

fire.

like a moth to a flame, clark’s lips immediately drew to chloe’s completely closing the gap between them. they begin with one gentle and lingering kiss to get an initial feel for each other’s touch on a new level. it’s exhilarating! before they knew it , they only crave for more. with each kiss, their tempo increases and their own unique rhythm sets the stage for their dance. clark’s hands find their place at the sides of chloe’s jaw to bring her face up closer against his and her fingers entrap themselves in the dark jungle of his curls. with the gentlest of motions, his palms descend from her jaw to her shoulders finally reaching their desired destination to the center of her spine. clark carefully applies pressure to signal her to sit upright. chloe reads the signal clearly and follows his lead, their chests centimeters from each other when clark sits himself up against the couch, his hands sliding to the small of her back. chloe adjusts her knees to sit against the sides of his legs, her arms eagerly encircling his broad, muscular shoulders.

a hum vibrates from chloe’s chest as she decides to take initiative by softly tugging clark’s now swollen, plush bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it to its original position. clark intends to match that same energy. he tilts her face in the opposite direction to slither his tongue to intimately mingle with hers, chloe whimpers in both surprise and approval of his forwardness. they continue to get lost within each other for another minute before they release to take a pause of realization of what’s going on between them. the lovers slowly bring their foreheads to connect, silently communicating their affection without ceasing their eye contact, and content smiles curving on their swollen lips. once their breathing is steady, they realize that tonight’s activities took a toll on their bodies. they take a second to stretch themselves from their previous position before clark lays on his side bringing chloe to lay in the (literal) shield of his chest, wrapping his arms around her figure once she’s comfortably nuzzling her face close enough to indulge in the sound of his heartbeat, allowing her brown eyes to doze away for the night. clark lays a final kiss upon the top of her silk wrapped scalp as his kryptonian senses tune in to her heartbeat before his own slumber follows suit.

[feeshfries]

damn these bitches gay as hell !!

full pic w/ doodles & close-ups + extra thoughts under the cut ^_^

hehoo..im fixated crazy on eddsworld.. mini tords inspired by @/weebnordlord on instagram !!(linked) i love their work so so so much, genuine huge inspiration 2 me :3

ne.way ! might post more later :3 have been working on this 4ever... goodnite tumblr i love u

[soangelbaby]

❤︎ you’ve been mine ; charlie baker x reader

‹𝟹 synopsis ; charlie baker is your brother's bestfriend, and he's 3 years older than you. you've always wanted each other but your brother has deemed you off-limits but this valentine's day, all bets are off the table, who will make the first move ?

the house was quieter now, the chaos of your brother’s valentine’s day party fading into the background. the room was a mess, scattered with red and pink streamers, deflated balloons, and the aftermath of too many drinks. but all you could focus on was the heat creeping up your spine and the adrenaline buzzing in your veins as you tried to steady yourself on shaky feet.

you should have been out with friends—maybe hitting up the local bar or at least making some kind of memory that didn’t involve cleaning up after your brother, you could’ve tagged along with your best friend, but her and her boyfriend had a romantic date planned, and you, well, you weren’t exactly in the mood to play third wheel. your other girlfriends had their own plans too—some with their boyfriends, others out with people you didn’t really know. you didn’t mind the solitude, really. you never did. but tonight? tonight felt different.

throwing another crushed red cup into the trash, you turned around to see charlie entering the doorway. shirtless, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass that was nearly empty. he wasn’t even trying to look casual; it was in his nature. his messy hair was falling into his eyes, and he now wore some basketball shorts that clung just a little too perfectly to his hips. he didn’t say anything right away, just stood there watching you for a moment, as though he were giving you a chance to catch your breath, to pull yourself together. but you could feel it, the tension in the room building, thick and palpable.

“still cleaning up?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, as if the very act of talking was another way for him to pull you in. you both had been circling each other all night, love in the air, the alcohol, and charlie’s lingering looks, all amplifying your emotions—making this all feel too real, and charlie look too good. you shot him a fake smile, “yeah, someone has to. you could help y’know.” you mutter, dropping the bag of plastic cups on counter. running a hand through your hair, you exhaled, reaching for your water bottle beside you, mind still hazy from shots you took throughout the night.

charlie snickered as he watched you, setting his cup down as he made his way over, raising his hands in mock surrender. “yeah? i thought i was off the clock.. but i guess i could help.” he rolls his eyes grabbing the half full bag you were previously were using off the counter, “you sure this isn’t just your excuse to get me closer now?” your pulse quickened, a nervous flutter in your chest. the way he was looking at you, his eyes dragging over you, taking in the sight of your red satin dress, though slightly disheveled still clinging to your curves. one strap hanging off your shoulder, you spun around nudging him as you pulled it up, “you wish, baker.” you laughed softly, trying to play it cool. and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the tension, but you felt yourself drawn to him, more than you ever had before.

he grinned, a hint of that charming confidence shining through, and without another word, he slid closer, brushing his hand against yours on the counter, “right, i forgot you’re scared of your brother.” charlie chuckles, throwing the empty dishes into the sink. you crossed your arms over your chest, head tilting as your brows drew together, “i’m not scared, just… cautious, you know how he is.” you mumbled, leaning against the counter huffing. charlie nodded in amusement, a low laugh escaping his lips, “but he’s not here now, is he?” he raises an eyebrow, tying a knot in the garbage bag before taking a step closer to you, “you don’t have to pretend anymore y’know? i’m right here, and i mean, it’s valentine’s day.” he hummed, adjusting your dress strap as it began to fall again. your breath hitched in your throat, feeling the heat radiate off his body, his piercing gaze locked onto yours, “charlie—we shouldn’t—“ you started off, voice barely audible as you weakly protested.

but there was nothing stopping you guys now, all the times in the past, your brother had interrupted, always catching you before things got too heated. and like charlie had said, he wasn’t here now. “maybe we shouldn’t—but we can. and you know we will.” he muttered, his large hand slipping to the back of your neck, tugging the hair at the nape of your neck slightly. you gasped, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, hesitating, half-lidded eyes searching his own. “if we do this—we have to be quiet.” you whispered fimly, gaze dropping to charlie’s bare chest before back up to his eyes. a lazy smirked tugged at his lips, his free hand dropping to grip your waist, the soft fabric curling under his fingertips, “you think i can do quiet?” you smacked his chest playfully, rolling your eyes, “charlie i’m serious! my room is right next to his, if he hears, i’m basically dead.” you shot back, gripping his shoulders firmly, acrylic nails digging into his skin, leaving impressions.

charlie’s eyes shot behind you, and he grinned, “i could always take you in the pantry,” he mumbled, one hand sliding up your back, your cheeks heated up at the thought, and more so at the possibility of your brother coming downstairs. but it was the quickest—and quietest option, so you weren’t exactly opposed. you grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward the pantry swiftly, the wooden door closing softly behind you both. you flicked the switch a few times, before realizing your brother never switched the bulbs when he was supposed to. “asshole..” you whispered, but to your luck, the lights from the kitchen barely shined through the blinds of the door, partially illuminating charlie’s large frame in front of you.

“no light, but we can make it work.” you said, a little breathlessly, hands already tugging at his basketball shorts, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, sliding up your little dress as he hoisted you up against the door slightly thumping, “fuck—i’ve been waiting to do this all night,” charlie groaned against your neck, nipping and biting at the skin there, his hips pressed flush against yours. your hands tangled in his hair, arching into him, you could feel his hard-on rubbing against your stomach, craving any type of friction, “needa feel you already, charlie please,” you moaned, he pressed his chest against yours, one hand gripping your ass as he held you up to tug off his shorts. his dick brushing your thigh as it sprang free, pushing up your dress and tugging your panties aside, charlie lined his dick up at your entrance, arousal already coating him, “made me wait so long for this, s’been torture, baby.” he grumbled, sinking into you with a low groan. you gasped, feeling your walls clench around him already, at the stretch of him inside you.

“mm, so fuckin’ tight—” his hips stuttered against yours, hands tightening around your waist as he sped up, your arms looped around his neck, pulling him closer if possible. his dick twitched inside you, “i’m not gonna last—fuuck” you could feel the tightness pooling in your stomach as he pounded into you, you tried to warn him but before you could your eyes squeezed shut, body glitching against him as your orgasm washed over you, scratching harshly at his back. charlie bit down on your shoulder as his cum shot into you, thrusts turning sloppy. his chest heaved against yours as he pulled out, quickly moving your panties aside, ensuring no drips of his cum slipped out. his lips crashed onto yours, tongue slipping into your mouth with force, before pulling away, his hand slipped between your legs, patting your soaking cunt roughly,

“happy valentine’s day.” charlie snickered, his lips pressing against yours once more.

𐑺 rini’s note ; omg yall dont hate me !! so erm—first im so sorry this literally sucks ass bc i changed my whole idea last min bc it wasn’t going how i wanted 🫠 so pulled this out my ass so late and yeah…. excuse potential typos js had to get ts out ahh lygs