#tom welling fluff

[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

[beaucate]

part two / master list.

𐙚⋆˙˚◞ OBLIVIOUS!READER who always watched clark from a distance, a frown visible on the rosy plush of her lips as his eyes strayed away from her own. he never watched her, and how could he when lana lang was always beside her, capturing the farmer boy’s attention with ease.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who can’t see the way clark’s drift towards the side of her face when she isn’t paying attention. his breathing rapid, and palms clenching his locker so it bent under the tips of his fingers.

OBLIVIOUS!READER not noticing the glances mr. and mrs. kent would share whenever she came over, watching as their son’s eyes widened and his words spluttered as she asked for his mother’s apple pie recipe.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who doesn’t catch the way clark’s lips part ever so slightly when she laughs on the outside benches of school. the sound seeming to unravel him entirely, zoning out when the laces of her skirt lift slightly above her thighs. she assumes he’s just zoning out, daydreaming about the green eyed brunette who sat along her — but in truth, his thoughts are consumed by her, and the way the sun light dances in her eyes.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who brushes off the way clark insists on carrying her books, his hand brushing hers as he does, leaving her cheeks burning red and heart pounding louder than she’d like. she convinces herself it’s just because he’s a gentleman, a farm boy raised by the kindest of people in town; not realising how much it takes for him to steady his superhuman heartbeat every time her lashes flutter his way.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who never questions why clark’s excuses to spend time together are, if anything, endless — offering her rides to school, and staying late to help her study for exams.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who doesn’t realise she’s the reason clark’s nights are sleepless, watching her home from afar in the comfort of his barn, his mind replaying every rise of her chest and shudder from the cold. he swears her perfume lingers in the air longer than it should.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who catches clark watching her once —just once — and dismisses it, thinking he must be distracted by something behind her. meanwhile, clark’s heart is lodged in the base of his throat, and he’s trying not to panic at the idea of her realising his gaze was drawn to her pouty mouth.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who can’t explain why mrs. kent always smiles teasingly at her when she visits the farm, or why mr. kent’s chuckle feels a little too amused every time his son fumbles his words around her. she assumes they might be picking on her — though theyre too nice; but what could possibly be the reason?

OBLIVIOUS!READER who doesn’t realize clark’s awkward stammers and shy smiles aren’t just his usual charm — they’re reserved for her. and when his hand accidentally brushes hers and she pulls away, muttering an apology, clark wonders if she’ll ever see just how much his mind has memorised the lines etched on her palms.

❀˚ dividers by @/ fairytopea

[kjhbsies]

Too much?

navigation | main masterlist | rules

Smallville Clark Kent x reader

synopsis: Clark was too busy saving Smallville, and Y/n just wanted a little attention. But when he told her to stop being clingy, She took it to heart— pulling away completely.

wordcount: 1,771

note: 16+ angst to fluff

divider from @enchanthings

"Am I okay?" Y/n echoed, tears welling in her eyes as she stepped forward. "You seriously had the audacity to ask me that?"

Clark blinked, completely thrown off guard. "What—?"

"Our date, Clark. You stood me up. Again."

His stomach dropped. And Clark opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Y/n wasn't finished.

"I waited for you for hours at the diner. I called. I texted. And nothing! No explanation, no anything. Just me looking like an idiot in front of everyone while my boyfriend completely blew me off."

Clark swallowed, "Y/n, I—"

"I'm so sick of this, Clark. This is the third time this has happened. And I know— God, I know you're busy. That people need you. But what about me? I'm your girlfriend."

Clark's jaw clenched. He had been through hell tonight, barely keeping Smallville safe, and how he was being berated for doing the right thing?

"Y/n, you know that's not fair." He shot back, voice sharper than intended. "I can't ignore people just because of a date."

Y/n scoffed. "Wow. That's just... great."

Clark exhaled sharply, patience wearing thin. "I'm not saying that, but you're acting—"

"Like what?" She challenged, tilting her head.

Clark hesitated, but the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Clingy. I just—" He groaned, running a hand down his face. "I need space, Y/n."

Silence.

And then, something in her head shifted.

Y/n quickly wiped the tears off her face. The anger in her eyes didn't die out, but something colder settled in. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath and took a small step back.

Clark immediately regretted it.

"Y/n, I—"

"Got it. I'm sorry." She said, voice almost detached.

Clark felt like the ground beneath him had just shifted. "Wait, I—"

But she didn't let him finish. She quickly turned to her heel and walked as fast away as she could.

And Clark did nothing but watch her disappear from his sight.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Clark actually got some rest. Deep, uninterrupted sleep. His body had needed it. His mind had been craving it. But the moment he opened his eyes, the argument last night was the first thing that crossed his mind.

Clark exhaled slowly, sitting up on the worn-out couch in the loft, running a frustrated hand on his hair. The barn was eerily quiet in the morning light, but his thoughts weren't.

He told himself over and over that it was probably for the best that Y/n was leaving him alone. That's what he wanted, right? He had been overwhelmed by Smallville's never-ending chaos, by his responsibilities, by the weight of everything he was trying to juggle. He just needed time to breathe, to think, to clear out his mind. And Y/n, for the first time, was giving it to him.

So why does it feel so wrong?

He shook the thought away, forcing himself to focus on the present. He had farm chores to do, and things he needed to take care of. He'd see Y/n later. He'd apologize after everything was settled down.

Except... he never got the chance. Because Y/n was nowhere.

She had stayed at Chloe's house for tonight. The next morning, she was out with her parents for the entire day. The day after that? She was doing something, somewhere, but Clark had no idea what. And the next day, and the next.

And suddenly, Clark had realized— he had no clue what she was doing at any moment.

For as long as he could remember, Y/n had always been there. She was in his messages before he could open his phone. She was calling him just to tell him something entirely random, or waiting for him at the Torch, or showing up at the loft with snacks. She was always present. But now? Nothing.

Clark had caught himself glancing at his phone every few minutes, waiting for a text that didn't come. His inbox was empty of her usual good morning and good night messages. No texts about her breakfast. No updates about her cat. No sudden burst of excitement at whatever TV show she was obsessing over.

Clark had shook it off, telling himself that it was fine. This is what he asked for and he should be grateful for it.

But the lack of her presence left a void in his heart. He missed her voice. He missed the way she would randomly call him in the middle of the day, just to tell him the most insignificant details of her afternoon. He missed her rants about school, her dramatic complaints about the people that pisses her off, and the way she would text him just because she thought about him.

Clark found himself staring at his phone, scrolling through their old messages, re-reading conversations he had taken for granted. He hovered over her contact, debating whether he should call first.

But he didn't.

Clark didn't remember running to Y/n's house. He didn't even realize that his feet had taken him there until he was standing beneath her bedroom window, hands shaking, heart pounding violently against his chest.

He had fought off yet another creature, saving Smallville again, but for once, Clark didn't feel like a hero.

For the past week, Clark had endured every kind of physical battle ever imagined— facing off against meteor freaks, barely dodging blows that could've shattered his bones, and throwing himself into danger with no hesitation. But none of those compared to losing Y/n. Nothing could've even come close to that.

His hands gripped the windowsills, knuckles turning white. He had climbed through this window a hundred times, sneaking into her room when he wanted to escape and when he wanted to see her. It had always felt so easy, so natural. But tonight, his knees felt weak.

Still, he climbed inside, landing on the floor, breath uneven as his eyes found her. She was curled up in her bed, her hair splayed over the pillows as she was reading one of the books Chloe had recommended. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated her features and Clark thought she was beautiful. Heavenly.

Y/n looked at him with a cold stare, sitting upright before setting the book down on her nightstand. She didn't say anything. She didn't rush into his arms. She didn't scold him for going through her windows like he always did.

"Why are you here?"

Clark took a step forward, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. "I wanted to talk."

Silence.

She just stared at him, head tilting to scan his face.

His heart clenched, his breath catching in his throat as his knees hit the edge of her bed. "Please," He begged, voice raw, and with pure desperation. "Please talk to me."

Y/n exhaled sharply, trying to toughen up as she could feel her resolve cracking. "What do you want me to say, Clark?"

"I— I miss you."

"You miss me?" She echoed, scoffing. "That's funny because a week ago, you called me clingy."

Clark's jaw clenched, regret tightening in his chest. "I was stupid. I thought— I thought I needed time to figure things out."

"For what, Clark? To decide if I was too much for you? That my love was overwhelming just because I wanted attention for my boyfriend who I haven't spent time much with for weeks?"

Clark opened his mouth, but the words died out his throat. Because deep down, he knew she was right.

Y/n looked away, angrily blinking away her tears. "I gave you space," She continued, voice quieter now. "I pulled away. I stopped texting, stopped calling, stopped clinging to you like you hated so much. Did it make you feel good now?"

"No," Clark immediately answered. "I hated it. I thought space was all I wanted. I thought it would make things easier. But it didn't." He took a hesitant step forward, reaching out, fingers trembling. "I missed you. I missed your texts. I missed your calls. I missed hearing about your day, about your cat, about your gossip with Chloe. I missed you— all of you."

"I thought you wanted to break up," Y/n admitted. "And I was ready to give it to you if it would make you feel any better—"

"No, no, no," Clark interrupted, immediately dropping to his knees beside her bed. He reached for her hand, grasping it gently as if she would slip away at any second. "Don't say that, baby, please."

Y/n stiffened. "Clark..."

"No," He pleaded, shaking his head. "Don't say it. Don't—" His breath hitched, squeezing her hands tighter. "Don't say we should end this. Don't say we should part ways. I can't—" His voice cracked, and suddenly, his vision blurred with tears. "I can't lose you."

"You hurt me, Clark."

"I know, baby, I know. And I'll spend forever making it up to you if you'll let me."

"I don't know if I can go back to how things were."

Clark exhaled shakily, hands reaching up to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek with such tenderness that Y/n shuddered under his touch. "Then let's start over. Let me love you better."

Y/n let out a choked laugh, shaking her head. "You're such a sap, Kent."

Clark smiled through the tears, relief flooding his chest. "Only for you."

A long beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with emotions too big to be put into words. And then, Clark leaned in, his lips brushing against hers— gentle at first, testing, waiting.

Y/n melted into the kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him close.

Clark let out a desperate sound, his body pressing closer as if trying to mold himself into her as if trying to make up for every second they had been apart.

The kiss deepened— slow, intoxicating, filled with longing. Clark’s hands trembled as they slid down her back, holding her so close it almost hurt.

“I love you,” Clark whispered, lips hovering over hers.

"You better.”

And then she pulled him down again, her lips claiming his, her body pressing into him, her hands gripping him like he was the one who had been missing her all along.

Clark let out a breathless laugh between kisses, his heart feeling whole again for the first time in days.

Maybe he had been strong enough to fight monsters, to save a town, to lift things heavier than any man could imagine.

But when it came to Y/N?

She was the only one who could bring him to his knees.

©kjhbsies

[internallysalad]

warnings: pure fluff, clark at peace, reader at peace, life is good :D

word count: 483

a/n: smallville the show you are!! currently on s3 and man is it LOVELY, clark kent ily and this drabble is exactly what my dreams are made of so enjoyyy <3 @lanadelreyscokewhor3 claire, i dedicate this to you bc your smallville rbs fuel me like red kryptonite does to clark hehe

to see clark kent at peace, cuddled close, holding you as he falls asleep - mouth a little open, no furrows in his brows, the slow rise and fall of his chest was something you cherished with all your heart. these days you saw him more asleep than awake, both your afternoons spent lazing around either on the barn couch or his bed or even on the wooden floor when the weather was warm and the air left a sheen of sweat on your skin. pillows scattered away from your vicinity, the hum of air through the windows, bird noises from the outside, the occasional vehicle passing by.

ever since you both started dating, clark kent realised how much joy physical touches can bring him - hugs, cuddles, hand holding, constantly having some part of yours in contact with him - it was bliss. touch starved since childhood, getting comfortable took time, communication, and boundary setting, but if you'd ask him to stop or move away, he would pull you even closer and not let go. you helped him calm down, de-stress, and days without you dragged on far longer than he wanted.

but when he discovered the magical abilities you possessed: the ability to give him the best, most well rested sleep of his life, his days literally turned into nights and his tensions eased into nothing as long as he had you close to him. after a stressful day full of saving people, running everywhere, crowded spaces, overstimulation and multiple nights of disturbed or no sleep, he would come home, plop onto the bed, slowly drag himself towards you with a knowing look in his eyes until you got the hint and let him lay his head on your chest.

he didn't need pillows, you were his pillow. "need you" he would say, wrapping his arms around your midsection, gently adjusting his head on your chest, taking a deep breath while you scrolled through your phone or told him about your day until his acknowledgements turned into hums and then into light snores. he would listen to your heartbeat fade away into his dreams until the world became silent and peace paused his thoughts.

and when you would hold him, it would feel like you're holding the world. so close to your heart, you could feel his breathing on your neck, the slow rise and fall of your chest matching and mismatching with his, the slight twitches his arms around you made- this boy was your world. and you were his. that is what made you smile and hold him all the more near.

there was a sense of vulnerability you would feel during these moments, feeling a sense of shyness creeping in when you admired him, tracing the curves of his brows, caressing your thumb over his cheekbones, kissing his forehead and nose- he was so stunning and all yours to adore.

[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.

[oneofstarkskids]

big baby

pairings: clark kent x reader

genre: fluffy sickfic because i'm a disease ridden rodent

summary: clark doesn't get sick, but when you do he knows just how to take care of you.

It was just one of those days. The kind where the orifices in your face wont stop leaking and you could probably curl up for a nap just about anywhere.

You groaned as you grabbed for yet another tissue. Clark, who heard your ailments from the other side of the house (without using his enhanced hearing), was by your side within seconds.

"You alright there, sweetheart?" He asked with a bit of a smirk.

The glare you shot him could've burned a hole in his face if you were born with his special talents, "Do I look alright to you?"

Clark did his best to suppress his chuckle. It didn't work.

Of course, he couldn't help but be a gentleman. "Is there anything I can get for you? You want some soup?"

You grimaced at the thought of liquid food.

"What I want is to be better already," you whined.

Clark raised his eyebrows. He'd never really been sick, so he could only sympathize with your predicament. Luckily, he had experience caring for his parents whenever they felt under the weather.

He wrapped your blanket around you a bit tighter as he pulled you into his lap, "You're like a big baby."

You frowned and tried to wriggle away from him, but he held you close.

"That's not how I meant it!" He defended.

You rolled your eyes and gave up, being no match for his Kryptonian strength.

"I'm not a baby!" You said in an ironically quite childlike way.

Clark kissed the side of your head before whispering, "What can I do to make it better?"

You closed your eyes and felt your body relax against his. "Just stay right here."

[sabrinasopposite]

imperfect for you.

pt. 3 of drinks or coffee / college!charlie baker x photographer!reader

my boy, come take my hand throw your guitar and your clothes in the back seat my love, they don't understand but I'll hold your hurt in the box here beside me

summary: after months of dating, its time for y/n to meet the baker family. yet charlie is a bit scared that y/n will see the chaotic, dozen of people in one house. will she still love him even though he was living in a imperfect home? of course she will.

Winter wraps itself around New York, weaving frost over windows and tucking laughter into scarves. The city glows—streetlights pooling golden halos onto rain-slicked sidewalks, store windows dressed in garlands and ribbons, the hum of holiday music slipping through every doorway. Y/N stands at the threshold of something new, something unfamiliar yet warm, as Charlie laces his fingers through hers and says, “Come home with me for Christmas.”

She hesitates, but only for a breath. Home. The word tastes like cinnamon and wood smoke when he says it.

So, she goes.

Charlie’s family is chaos incarnate.

The front door barely swings open before he is ambushed—small bodies colliding into him, voices overlapping, warmth pressing in from every direction. The house is alive, a living, breathing thing pulsing with energy, tangled in fairy lights and the scent of home-cooked meals. 

Y/N watches, wide-eyed, as one of his younger siblings nearly topples a Christmas tree in an attempt to tackle Charlie, and another is running circles around the kitchen, holding a turkey baster like a sword. And within five minutes of stepping fully into the Baker household, she understands why.

“Charlie’s home!”

“And he brought a girl?”

“Everyone act normal—DON’T TACKLE HIM—”

But it’s too late. Three of his younger siblings have already thrown themselves at him, clinging to his legs, one of them scaling his back like a small, determined koala. A dog is barking somewhere. A toddler is crying. A rogue soccer ball goes flying past Y/N’s head.

Charlie groans. “Jesus Christ, guys.”

Charlie catches her glance, and his expression shifts—something between an apology and hesitation, as if he’s bracing for her to be overwhelmed, for her to see all of this and think too much, too loud, too wild. Y/N is still processing the sheer volume of the house, but she’s chuckling when someone yanks her forward and traps her in a surprisingly strong hug.

“You must be Y/N!” She blinks as she is pulled back at arm’s length, coming face-to-face with a girl who shares Charlie’s sharp jawline and mischievous eyes.

“I’m Lorraine, one of Charlie’s many sisters,” she says with a grin. “Come in, come in, don’t be shy—we don’t bite. Well, Kyle did once, but he’s been trained out of it.”

A ten-year-old across the room scowls. “That was one time!”

Charlie sighs heavily. “Y/N, this is my family. Family, this is Y/N. Now, let’s all behave like normal people for once in our lives.”

Dinner is a symphony of overlapping voices, dishes being passed in a rush, elbows knocking, laughter rising and spilling over like an overfilled glass. Charlie’s dad tries (and fails) to carve the turkey without making a mess, his mom keeps swatting away small hands that sneak rolls from the breadbasket, and someone is telling a story that no one is really listening to, but everyone is enjoying anyway.

“So, Y/N,” one of Charlie’s older sisters asks, grinning across the table. “How exactly did my brother, of all people, manage to date someone like you?”

Charlie groans, covering his face with one hand. “Oh my god. We’re not doing this.”

“Oh, we are doing this,” another sibling chimes in. “Because, come on, Charlie. We’ve seen your past choices.” “Beth,” someone coughs not-so-subtly.

Charlie shoots a glare across the table. “We do not need to bring up my ex right now.”

Y/N hides a smile behind her glass, watching as Charlie sinks lower in his chair, clearly regretting every decision that led to this moment.

“I don’t know,” she says, feigning deep thought. “I guess I just really like mechanics who secretly have a soft heart and buy their girlfriends cameras for no reason.”

There’s a collective aww from the table. Charlie turns bright red.

His mom sighs dramatically. “Finally, someone who actually likes him.”

Charlie throws his hands up. “Okay! That’s enough! This is my girlfriend, not my public humiliation tour.”

The table erupts in laughter. Y/N, watching the way his family teases him but loves him so effortlessly, just squeezes his hand beneath the table. He glances at her, and the frustration fades into something softer, something quieter. There’s a beat of silence. Then one of the younger kids asks, dead serious, “Charlie, what’s it like having a girlfriend? Like, what do you do?”

Y/N barely has time to stifle a laugh before Charlie groans. “Oh my god.”

“Oh yeah, we need to talk about this,” another sibling chimes in, leaning against the kitchen counter. “How did this happen? Who asked who out? Did Charlie say something dumb?”

“Probably,” someone else mutters.

Charlie drags a hand down his face. “Can we not do this right now?”

Y/N grins, propping her chin on her hand. “No, no, I’m actually curious. Please, continue.”

Lorraine smirks. “Okay, so here’s my theory: Y/N fell for him first, because look at him.” Charlie scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, you’re decent-looking, I guess,” she continues. “But let’s be real, it was probably one of those ‘brooding mechanic with grease on his arms, pushing his hair back while fixing a car’ moments, right?” “Oh my god, shut up,” Charlie says with a groan.

Y/N, still laughing, the siblings start to join the theories like:

“I believe that Charlie magically poisoned her because, as if a beauty like her could fall for him.”

“I think Y/N wouldn’t fall for his stinky mechanic look—unless they match their freaks.”

“Or Charlie fell for Y/N first! Look at her, I mean… Maybe we need to save Y/N from Charlie!”

The table explodes with laughter as Charlie turns a shade of red previously unknown to mankind. Y/N chuckles but then places her hand on his arm. “Well, I always liked Charlie in my own way, but I met him at this super lame party. Yet he made it more interesting than I thought it would be—also, he asked me if we could go after the party to a coffee shop.” She smiles softly.

Charlie chuckles and nods. “Yeah, ever since then we’ve gone regularly to this coffee shop; it’s our thing now. Oh, and now I can do photography because of Y/N!”

The whole family falls silent because they’re in awe of the two of them. They continue to talk about the little dates or funny memories that Charlie and Y/N have collected over the months.

Later, when the meal is winding down and the warmth of the evening settles, Y/N leans close and 

murmurs, “I think I like your family.”

Charlie huffs a small laugh, still looking sheepish. “They’re insane.”

“They’re you.” He opens his mouth, but before he can say something self-deprecating, she adds, “And at least I have plenty of brothers and sisters-in-law now.” He freezes. His ears go pink.

Y/N just smiles. She doesn’t press the moment, just lets it settle—a whispered promise in the space between their laughter. But later, when he’s cleaning the table and she passes by, he hooks a finger into her belt loop, tugging her close for half a second. No words, just the warmth of his touch, just his lips brushing her temple in the quiet acknowledgment that he heard her, that he felt the weight of what she meant.

That he wants it, too.

The stars are strung low in the sky when Charlie drives them out past the city limits, to where the snow lies untouched and the air smells like pine.

They park beneath an open stretch of sky, the windows fogging from the heat of their breath, and Charlie reaches for his guitar from the backseat.

“I didn’t know you played,” Y/N murmurs, tucking her chin onto her knees, watching him.

Charlie shrugs, hands skimming the strings. “I don’t… really. Not in front of people.” He strums a few chords, then glances at her with something hesitant, something vulnerable. “But I wanted to play for you.”

The first notes come tentative, like he’s testing the shape of the song against the silence. Then, as he finds the rhythm, he loses himself in it, fingers moving with a quiet confidence, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N watches, her heart catching somewhere between the melody and the way the soft light of the car dashboard paints him in gentle golds. She reaches for her camera, snapping a picture before she can think too much about it.

A moment caught. A memory pressed into permanence. When he finishes, the last notes fading into the hush of night, he sets the guitar aside and turns to her.

She doesn’t need him to say anything. She already knows.

Still, when he cups her face in his hands, when his lips meet hers—slow and deep and full of things unspoken—she melts into it like she belongs there.

“I love you,” he breathes against her mouth.

And Y/N, with winter curled around them and the whole universe narrowed to this moment, smiles into the kiss.

“I love you too, my love.”

💌: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23 @angelsgalore @collywobblvs @tvdelrey @tinainaction @seulgi-burgundy @floralscented @artyandink

p1 pt 2

[patdkoala]

Just "Friends"

Clark and I are close and I mean really close. We aren't like him, Chloe, Lex, or even Lana or Pete. We were close like with no one else in the universe.

We talked about everything together, and it honestly made me feel so good to have someone like that in my life. Clark always knew what to say to make me feel better.

Today I was with Chloe and Lana. Because yes, Clark is like my other half but sometimes you just need to have a true heart-to-heart with the girls. Chloe has a crush on this new guy at our school and she wants to ask him to the school dance. She called me and Lana and had us come over to discuss how she should go about this whole asking-a-boy-out thing.

"I really wanna take this thing head on!" She exclaimed while Lana did her hair. Lana gave me a smirk as I rolled my eyes from Chloe's bed where I sat reading one of her many books that she had sitting in a pile next to her bed.

"And how exactly do you plan on taking this thing head-on exactly? Aren't you just going to go up to him in class and ask him to the dance?" Lana asked as she brushed through Chloe's short hair.

"I just want to make sure I make it obvious to him that I like him because the worst-case scenario is that we end up like Clark and (Y/N)," Chloe said as she and Lana looked over at me and set the book down after hearing my name.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I asked as Chloe and Lana smirked at each other as if they had now switched the conversation over to be directed towards me now.

"We see how Clark and you make eyes at each other," Lana said as I rolled my eyes. "Oh come on! You're one to talk. You and Clark are basically the two with the most chemistry in this whole freaking town," I said as I fully sat up and gave the two my full attention.

Lana seemed baffled by my accusation. "Don't look at me like that! I know Clark and you like each other. It's no big deal. Honestly. Clark and I are just friends." I don't know why but as I said those words I felt tears pooling in my eyes somehow.

I quickly wiped those away laid back down and picked back up the book. "I say tell him how you feel," Lana said as we heard Chloe's bedroom door open and in walked Clark. "Tell who how you feel?" He asked as I sat up and saw his perfect baby blues staring right back at me like he was Prince Charming himself.

Every time I would lock eyes with Clark I felt like I was looking into the eyes of a sweet little puppy that had just opened it's eyes for the first time. I know that that sounds crazy and sappy but honestly that is how Clark made me feel.

"Chloe should tell that guy in our lit class that she likes him and wants to go to the dance with him. That's all we were talking about. Nothing else," I said as Clark went over and sat down next to me on Chloe's bed.

"Well, Chloe if you like him then yeah go for it. Tell him how you feel as Lana said." "Yeah, like I said," Lana said as she looked over at me knowing that she was directing all of that towards me.

"Lana who are yuo going to the dance with?" I asked trying to change the subject. I quickly regretted that choice because I saw the way Clark's ears turned red at the mention of Lana going to a school dance potentially she would say she didn't have anyone she was going with and he would thinnk that that meant she needs him to go with.

That was the problem with Clark. He always thought Lana needed him not that she wanted him. I mean she might. I don't know entirely because all I knew was that I wanted him and could nevr have him because he doesn't want or need me in his life half as much as I'm already in it.

"Oh, I uh. I was going to go with Whitney," She said as I watched the color drain from his ears and he laid down as I had before. Lana was almost done with Chloe's hair and I was almost done with this book so I slumped back right there next to Clark on Chloe's bed.

Lana and Chloe were chit-chatting about some more nonsense from school and boys that they think would be a good match for Chloe if this one guy doesn't pan out.

Clark and I were lying back on Chloe's bed in complete silence. This was one of those moments where I found myself truly happy. The fact that Clark and I were able to lay in complete silence like that without it being the most awkward thing in the universe was amazing.

I looked at him and he was staring at the ceiling. He always looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. It worried me that he could possibly be stressing about things that he doesn't tell me. I was certain that he told me everything so when he looked like this I assumed that there was something he was keeping from me to protect me because why else would he not tell me.

But this made me begin to worry that it was something having to do with his feelings towards Lana thta made him not talk to me about them.

Eventually, Chloe and Lana headed out to the Talon to find the guy so Chloe could have a chance at asking him out before class tomorrow and that left me and Clark to leave and go find something else to do since we were just background characters to Chloe's big day today.

"We can go back to the barn and watch a movie or something at my place if you want. My mom is making pasta for dinner,"Clark said as I smiled and then followed him to his truck outside.

I've always noticed the little thing s in movies and books where the guys would open doors and be extra polite to the female characters. Especially if they liked them in any way romantically.

Clark never treated me like that in anyway at all.

The entire drive home I was so quiet. I guess I was just overthinking my whole life which I tended to do when I was alone but never in the same rom as someone else. I felt Clark's eyes on me as he pulled into his driveway.

"What?" I asked as he parked and unbuckled himself. "Are you okay? You seemed a little quiet that whole ride. Is there something wrong? You know you can tell me, (Y/N). Always." He was always so sinsiere and kind to me.

"Yeah. I'm fine I guess I was just thinking about the dance." "Oh? Is there a special someone that asked you?" I shook my head no in my response to his silly question.

"Then what were you thinking about in regards to the dance?" I smiled and he smiled back. "Don't give me that bullshit smile because I know you are covering up something. What's wrong, (Y/N)?"

"Why won't you ask me to the dance?" I just blurted it out. I don't think I meant to but I just really wanted to know the answer.

"Woah. Where's this coming from?" He asked as he then opened his truck door and got out. I unbuckled myself and followed suit. He walked towards his house where the closer we got the more we could smell the pasta dinner his mom was making.

"I just wanted to know if you didn't ask me because you maybe see me as a sister or if you didn't ask me because you genuinly hate me."

"I Don't hate you, (Y/N)," He said as he stopped right in front of his house. We were so close to the door that I'm almost 100% sure that his parents could hear us if they even happened to be in the kitchen.

"If you don't hate me then it's the first option. You see me as a sister?" "What? No! I-" "Well then what the hell Clark why won't you just tell me how you feel instead of expecting me to do all the talking it's not like I'm exactly the most-"

He kissed me.

"Do you ever just shut up?" He said quietly into my mouth. His eyes were closed and his hand was around my head holding me close to him.

"Why have you never done something like this before?" I asked as I pushed him away because I had to remind myself that I was still mad at him.

"You always made me so comfortable around you and you're right you did always the majority of the talking that I didn't feel the need to be very affectionate myself. I've always liked you but-" "But you like Lana. I know." I looked down at the ground and avoided his eyes.

He used his finger to make me look up at him. Those beautiful baby blues were staring back at me all over again and I felt like I was melting.

"I liked Lana. Yes, that's true. But when I'm alone with her nothing compares to when I'm alone with you. Being with you- I feel like I'm floating on a cloud. It is the most comfortable I have ever been in the history of my life. I always feel like I'm trying to save everyone but you don't make me feel like that. You let me just be and I love it. I love you, (Y/N)."

"Just shut the hell up and kiss me again," I demanded as he pulled me in and kissed me again on his front porch. Then as if it never happened, we went inside and he opened the door for me which was very new to me.

His mom and dad were sitting at the table smiling ear-to-ear when we walked in.

"Glad to hear you kids made up," Johnathan said as I got red in my cheeks and I looked over at Clark who's ears were red again.

[collywobblvs]

moodboard for @sabrinasopposite “drinks or coffee” fic series because i can’t stop thinking about them

(links to the fics: part 1 , part 2 , part 3)

college!charlie baker x photographer!reader

[luciddaizey]

Cursed waters • Clark Kent

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Don't be Sorry

I stood in front of the floor length mirror in the corner of my new room, staring at the chip in the top right corner of the wooden border from when I accidentally hit it on the side of the moving truck last night. I could feel my jaw tighten as I looked myself up and down.

How am I supposed to do this?

"MARLEIGH, YOUR CAR IS HERE!"

Honestly that was the first good news I'd heard in a long time. I felt gross. Dull and lifeless. Like I wasn't even a person anymore, like I looked just as bad as I felt, and like everyone else could see it too. Honestly bless Uncle Mike for not making me start school until next week. Senior year, one last ride.

I grabbed my wallet from the top of a stack of boxes I hadn't unpacked yet, gripping the fabric like it was the only thing grounding me. Mike was already at the bottom of the staircase, dangling my keys in the air in what I'm assuming was an attempt to make me laugh. Feeling bad, I gave him one..trying to make it sound as believable as possible.

"Need any help with chores today?"

I watched his expression fall, out of pity I'm sure. I know he's trying, but I could just tell how badly he felt for me, and I hated it. "Not yet, I'll give you the lay of the land tomorrow. For now why don't you just go check on the horses." He avoided my eyes, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. "Sure." I gave him a tense smile, grabbing my keys from him and hooking them on my belt loop before heading out the front door.

It took approximately two seconds of being outside before I saw Clark coming towards me. "Hey, Marleigh!"

I feel bad, he's so sweet and I couldn't be bothered. Not that it has anything to do with him, I just can't keep on a single train of thought for more than twenty seconds at a time right now. It's like everything around me kept spinning and I was just stuck in place with nowhere to go and no way out. "I was just coming over to bring you this, my mom made it."

He handed me a small bracelet, a mix of pink and black beads. "She made this for me? Why?"

I felt a ping in my heart, and not the bad kind. For the first time since I found my mom that afternoon, I felt warm. How could someone be so kind to a random girl she didn't even know? It didn't even matter if it was out of pity or if it was genuine, i didn't care. Not this time.

"She's just like that, all mom mode...all the time." He gave me a soft, almost hesitant smile. Suddenly his eyes widened like they were about to burst out of his head. I raised a brow slightly, confused at the sudden switch. "I'm so sorry that was so insensitive, I didn't mea-" I cut him off as quickly as possible. "Don't apologize, it's okay. Your mom is sweet and i promise I wasn't even thinking about it like that."

He ran a hand down his face, his smile faint but unmistakably genuine. Before he could respond, I spoke up myself. "Actually..I should apologize to you."

Now he was the one looking confused. He raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical as he internally questioned my intentions I'm sure. I noticed the way the corner of his mouth naturally turned slightly upward as he raised his brow, making a small smile line appear on the side of his face.

"I was rude yesterday, to you and your parents. I was just stressed...and tired. The drive from California was like twenty-nine hours and I hadn't eaten or slept and my head was killing me and I was-"

"Marleigh, please relax. You don't need to be sorry okay, you weren't rude at all. And even if you had been, we wouldn't blame you. Being in a new place like this is probably hard, I get it." He looked away as his sentence ended, unable to meet my gaze. A clear indication of his guilt. Great.

"I was. I was rude, and I'm sorry. I think..maybe you guys were just subconsciously cutting me some slack." I mustered up a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood a little. I watched as he met my eyes once more and the corners of his mouth turned into a small smile. "I just want you to know that I'm not always like that. So...timid. It's just strange. Moving to a new place to live with an uncle I hardly know, in a tiny town full of people I don't know...knowing they all know me. And why I'm here. It's just gonna take some time, you know?"

"For what it's worth..first days are always rough, I'd never judge you for that. And just so you know, you do have a friend here. And not just because I feel bad for you or something, I'm here." He spoke softly, tilting his head slightly towards me to show he meant what he was saying. "Actually, I was just about to go grab a coffee. Do you like coffee? I could use some company."

At that point, nothing sounded better than getting out of the house. As well-intended as Mike was, he saw my mom every time he looked at me. And I saw it in him. "Lead the way."

•

The Talon was cute, and the coffee wasn't bad. I could feel Clark staring at the side of my face, so I looked up and gave him a soft smile. "It's good, if that's what you're wondering."

As he opened his mouth to speak, a shorter girl with dark brown hair came over, shooting Clark an almost harsh glance before looking over at me with what seemed like a forced smile. Fabulous, just what I need right now. "Hey Clark, who's this?"

Clark smiled at her, before introducing me as Mikes niece who just moved in next door. "Oh, cool. Mike is really nice, he's worked with my aunt a few times! I'm Lana." She reached out to shake my hand, which I gladly accepted. "Marleigh. Very nice to meet you."

She cast a sideways glance at Clark, her lips pressed into a thin line. After telling us to let her know if we needed anything, she walked off. "So...girlfriend?"

Clark nearly spit out his coffee at that. "No. No no no no. Lana, is just a friend trust me." He fidgeted with the handle of his mug, his movements jerky and hesitant. "Very convincing."

He crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive posture that spoke volumes about his discomfort. A deep sigh let out from deep in his chest, one I wasn't expecting. He seemed genuinely upset that I didn't believe him. "Look, I've liked Lana for forever. But she's kind of been stringing me along for...awhile now. I'm a little tired of it. I mean I care about her, a ton. I'm just starting to think that's shifting into more as a friend than anything else, you know? It's complicated, but I'm really trying to move on. For real this time."

I gave a small single shouldered shrug as I let off a small smile. "Hey...I get it. At my old school I was so focused on my grades that I never really paid attention to anyone or anything. There was this guy that I really liked though, from afar. Long story short, he made me think he liked me...he didn't."

He tiled his head slightly, his expression saddened. "People suck sometimes."

"Sometimes?" I asked, small smile on my face as he let out a laugh. I don't think it was till then that I actually noticed how kind his smile was. He just seemed so...real. Genuine. Like he was the only person in this god forsaken town that wasn't only being nice to me because I was the sad girl who's mom died and who's dad didn't want her. It was nice, talking to Clark. He was nice.

[deansbeer]

until the end ・ TOM WELLING. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

୨୧ synopsis. you prepare to marry tom, facing nerves and excitement, while jensen helps him navigate his own wedding day jitters.

୨୧ warning(s). fluff | fem!reader | wedding anxiety | mild language | best friend!jensen | a heartfelt best man speech | light friendly banter | wedding games (?) | mentions of whiskey (but nothing too extreme) | no use of Y/N.

୨୧ kari notes. i had a dream the night before about him and i can't recall what even happened :( but all i do remember is just seeing his face, like the one in the photo <3 he's so cutesy !!!

୨୧ word count. 2.3k

tom sat in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest as the distant hum of conversation filled the dressing room. he hadn't seen you all morning, and the absence of your presence weighed on him more than he cared to admit. the simple comfort of you—your scent, your voice, the warmth of your touch—was missing, leaving him restless.

his back ached from sitting too long, his body stiff after hours of preparations. the elegant suit he wore felt both like a privilege and a burden, the fabric pressing against him as he fidgeted, trying to find a comfortable position.

“jesus, man, you look like you're about to throw up."

tom turned his head to see jensen, his best man, standing in the doorway with a smirk. dressed in a sleek black suit, tie slightly loosened, jensen carried two glasses of whiskey—one of which he promptly handed to tom.

he took the glass but didn't drink, just stared at the amber liquid. "i don't feel like throwing up," he muttered, though the slight tremor in his hands betrayed him.

jensen raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. "could've fooled me. you've been sitting in that chair looking like a lost puppy."

tom sighed, leaning back. "i haven't seen her all day. feels weird."

jensen chuckled, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "that's because, for once in your life, you're not in control, dude. she's busy getting all done up while you sit here, looking pretty and trying not to panic."

"i'm not panicking,” tom argued, but jensen just gave him a knowing look.

"sure. and i don't have a supernatural convention next weekend."

tom rolled his eyes, finally taking a sip of the whiskey. the warmth spread through his chest, loosening some of the tension in his muscles. he savored the momentary relief, but it did little to quell the storm of emotions brewing inside him.

jensen sat down across from him, leaning forward, his expression turning serious. "look, man, i get it. this is huge. but you already won. you got the girl. you're just making it official now."

tom exhaled, rubbing his hands together. "that's the thing. what if i mess it up?"

jensen snorted. "dude, you've been with her for how long? you think one wedding is gonna change anything?"

tom hesitated, then shook his head. "no… i don't know. i just want it to be perfect."

jensen grinned. "it will be. because she loves you, dumbass."

tom huffed a small laugh, finally relaxing a little. jensen's unwavering confidence in him helped ease some of the knots in his stomach.

"now," jensen said, standing up and straightening his tie, "let's get you out there, before you start crying on me or something."

tom shot him a look. "i'm not gonna cry."

jensen smirked. "uh-huh. we'll see about that when she walks down the aisle."

tom shook his head, but deep down, he knew jensen was probably right. the thought of seeing you in your wedding dress made his heart race, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling within him.

the morning had been a blur of soft laughter, gentle touches, and the rustling of silk and lace. you were surrounded by your bridesmaids, each one fluttering around you like butterflies, adjusting your hair, perfecting your makeup, and making sure everything was flawless. despite the whirlwind of preparations, your mind was solely on tom.

you hadn't seen him all morning, and it felt strange not to have him there beside you. he was your anchor, your home, your safe place. the anticipation of standing before him and exchanging vows sent shivers down your spine.

a soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts.

"come in," you called, your heart racing with excitement.

the door cracked open, and to your surprise, jensen peeked his head in. "hope i'm not breaking any ancient wedding traditions by showing up," he said, stepping inside. "but i come bearing a peace offering."

you laughed as he held up a letter—tom’s handwriting scrawled across the front.

"he made me deliver it," jensen explained, handing it to you. "said he 'needed' to talk to you, but, you know, rules and all."

your heart clenched as you carefully unfolded the note, your breath hitching in your throat.

baby… i know i'm not supposed to see you yet, but i needed to tell you this before you walk down the aisle. i love you. i've loved you from the moment i met you, and i will love you for the rest of my life. no matter what happens today, tomorrow, or fifty years from now—you are my always. see you soon, my love.

you pressed the letter to your chest, blinking back tears. the words resonated deep within you, filling you with warmth and affection.

jensen watched you with an amused expression. "yep. he's gonna cry."

you laughed softly, shaking your head. "no, he is not."

"wanna bet?" he grinned. "i'll put fifty bucks on it right now. he's already a mess."

you chuckled, but deep down, you knew jensen was probably right. the thought of tom's reaction when he saw you was enough to make your heart swell.

as the minutes ticked by, the atmosphere shifted. the music started, a soft melody filling the air, and the moment you had been waiting for had arrived.

everyone rose from their seats.

and tom—oh, tom—he went completely still.

jensen, standing beside him at the altar, smirked as he heard the sharp intake of breath from his best friend.

"told you," jensen whispered, barely containing his amusement.

tom ignored him. because there you were.

as you walked slowly down the aisle, tom’s throat tightened, his vision blurring slightly. you were breathtaking. ethereal. his.

the fabric of your dress flowed around you like a dream, the intricate details catching the light and shimmering with every step. the world around you faded as you locked eyes with tom, his expression a mixture of awe and vulnerability.

jensen discreetly reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, nudging tom with his elbow. "you good, dude?"

tom exhaled shakily, eyes never leaving you. "yeah."

jensen smirked. "told you you'd cry."

as you reached the altar, the officiant began the ceremony, but all tom could focus on was you. the way your hair fell gracefully over your shoulders, the glimmer of happiness in your eyes, the soft smile playing on your lips—it was everything he had ever dreamed of and more.

i can't believe this is happening, he thought, his heart racing. the officiant’s words were mere background noise as he absorbed the moment, the reality of marrying you sinking in with every heartbeat.

after a few heartfelt words, it was time for the vows. you turned to him, your eyes sparkling with love as you spoke from the heart.

"tom," you began, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "from the moment i met you, i knew you were special. you've been my best friend, my confidant, and my rock. our relationship has blossomed into something beautiful, and i can't imagine my life without you. today, i vow to always stand by your side, no matter what life throws our way."

he felt the tears prick at his eyes, his heart swelling with every word. you continued, your voice unwavering, "i promise to be your support, your cheerleader, and your partner-in-crime. i promise to laugh with you, cry with you, and share every moment of joy and heartache. you are my best friend, my lover, and my soulmate."

with each vow you made, tom felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. he was home.

when it was his turn, he took a deep breath, his voice thick with emotion. "(___) you are my everything. i've loved you from the moment we met, and i will love you for the rest of my life. you are my anchor, my light in the dark, and i promise to cherish you always."

the officiant smiled, clearly moved by the sincerity of your vows. the guests watched in rapt attention, and tom could feel the weight of their love and support surrounding you both.

"now, by the power vested in me, i pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declared. "you may now kiss the bride."

tom stepped forward, his heart racing as he cupped your face in his hands. as your lips met, the world melted away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. the kiss was soft at first, an exploration filled with love and promise, before deepening into something more passionate.

after you pulled away, the applause erupted around you, a symphony of joy ringing in your ears. tom couldn't help but smile, the sight of you radiant in your wedding dress filling him with a sense of completeness.

the reception was a whirlwind of laughter and celebration. glasses clinked, music filled the air, and everyone was on their feet, dancing and reveling in the happiness that surrounded you both.

jensen stood up, tapping his glass with a fork, commanding attention. "alright, alright, listen up, people. i've got some words to say about this big guy right here."

tom groaned, burying his face in his hands. "oh, god."

jensen grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye impossible to miss. "relax, man. i'll keep it PG-13… mostly." he cleared his throat dramatically, the room quieting down in anticipation. "i've known tom for a long time now. and let me tell you, this dude? he's a legend. he's superman, for crying out loud. but today? today, he's just a guy who got incredibly, ridiculously lucky."

the crowd erupted in laughter, and tom shook his head with a chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.

jensen turned to you, his tone shifting to sincerity. "seriously, i don't know how you put up with him, but i'm glad you do. because i've never seen him happier than when he's with you. and if there's anyone who deserves a lifetime of happiness, it's him."

tom swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as emotion welled up. jensen's words struck a chord, and he felt the heat of tears pooling in his eyes.

"so let's raise our glasses," jensen continued, raising his glass of chardonnay. "to tom and his beautiful wife. may your love be as epic as smallville, as unbreakable as superman himself, and as legendary as this wedding."

"cheers!" the crowd erupted, raising their glasses with enthusiasm.

tom, now definitely blinking back tears, turned to you with a soft smile. "i love you," he whispered, leaning in close, his voice barely audible over the cheers.

"i love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with joy.

you both shared another kiss, the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you wrapped in your love. the evening unfolded like a beautiful dream, filled with dancing, laughter, and the warmth of family and friends celebrating your union.

tom pulled you close during the first dance, his arms securely around your waist as you swayed to the music. the world outside faded away, and all that mattered was this moment—the two of you, together, forever.

"i can't believe we're actually married," you said, gazing up at him, your heart racing.

"believe it," he replied, his voice low and filled with emotion. "you're mine now, and i'm never letting go."

the words hung in the air, a promise that resonated deep within you. you moved together, the rhythm of the music matched the heartbeat of your love, each beat echoing the journey you had taken to get to this moment.

as the night wore on, laughter echoed around the room. friends and family shared stories, memories, and heartfelt toasts, each one a testament to the love you and tom had cultivated over the years. the atmosphere was electric, a perfect blend of joy and celebration that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

jensen, ever the entertainer, took to the floor again, his antics bringing laughter and smiles from everyone. "alright, folks! next up, we have a little game for the newlyweds," he declared, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "let's see how well they really know each other!"

tom and you exchanged glances, amusement dancing in your eyes.

"bring it on," you said confidently, nudging tom playfully.

the game involved answering questions about each other, and as the rounds progressed, the room filled with laughter as you both revealed little quirks and secrets that made your relationship unique.

"okay, what's his favorite movie?" jensen asked, looking between you and tom.

"easy. mutiny on the bounty," you answered without hesitation.

tom grinned, nodding in approval. "and (___)'s is the craft," he replied, and the room filled with cheers.

the questions continued, each one drawing out laughter and teasing from the guests. but amidst the fun, tom felt a deep sense of gratitude swell within him.

when the night began to wound down, you found yourselves standing on the balcony, the soft glow of fairy lights surrounding you, the stars twinkling like diamonds in the night sky.

"can you believe we did it?" you asked, leaning against the railing, your heart full.

tom turned to you, his expression softening. "i can. and i wouldn't change a thing. this is exactly where i'm meant to be."

you smiled, warmth spreading through you. "i love you, tom. you make me so incredibly happy."

he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace. "i love you too, baby. more than i can ever put into words. you're my everything."

as you stood together, the world around you faded into silence, leaving only the two of you in your perfect moment. the wedding had been a beautiful celebration, but it was the love you shared—strong, unwavering—that truly made it unforgettable.

you stared up at him, your heart brimming with joy, you knew this was just the beginning of your forever.

EXTRAS. @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @daylighted @st4rfckerz ⎯⎯ if you wanna be tagged in any tom or clark content, do let me know !!! i love pookie wookie sm :(

[beaucate]

๑°⋆｡ ୨୧ nsfw . . . blurb for the mean time bcz im busy </3 — it’s meant to be awkward but i also haven’t written anything suggestive in a while so be patient pleek!!

you were sprawled half-asleep on the couch within the kent’s barn, painkillers smudging your vision into a blur of purple and black hues, when suddenly; clark’s heavy boots thudded up the loft stairs.

his red flannel was rolled to his elbows — forearms streaked with light dirt, and all you could do was stare dumbly as he crouched beside you, all broad shouldered and nervously sweating.

“ma said you’re still… y’know.” he gestured vaguely at his jaw, cheeks pink as your drool coated the plush of your swollen lips.

“still dying,” you slurred, tilting your head back with a light thud. the motion made the room spin. “s’your fault. your mom’s apple pie is a calling for cavities”

he huffed a half-hearted laugh, and sat on the edge of the couch near you.

in your dazed state; you hadn’t realised how close he was until his knee bumped yours, denim rough against your bare leg, as your skirt scrunched upwards. his hands flexed, like he’d wanted to touch but held himself back.

“let me,” he muttered, but his gruff tone didn’t match the way his fingers trembled when he cupped your chin.

you let him pry your mouth open, too hazy to care about your dignity — and gasped softly when the rough pad of his thumb pressed into the swelling ache. your tongue involuntarily (or so you tell yourself) brushed his calloused skin, and he made a noise; a low, almost pained grunt— before he shifted closer.

the old couch creaked dangerously as he leaned in, his hip accidentally slotting against yours.

you both froze.

for a pregnant pause, all you felt was the heat of him, the hard line of his muscular thigh pressing into the sensitive skin of your legs. the way his breath stuttered when your knee slipped between his.

“clark-“ you breathed out, his thumb still pressing against your gums, and sliding slowly so that it brushed against the inside of your cheeks and on your tongue.

he was already moving, a hand slipping from your face to lean against the worn out pillow behind you. that small shift of his body had made him slide forward, his larger body pinning yours deeper into the couch.

your hips rocked up, ‘accidentally’, and his free hand gripped down on your waist, holding you still.

“don’t,” he stuttered out, eyes wild.

though his own words fell to deaf ears, because you weren’t sure who moved first.

maybe it was the arch of your back. but suddenly he was everywhere all at once, the thick muscle of his chest crushing against your hardened nipples, and his knee nudged your legs wider. it was all so clumsy, and reeked of desperation; his hips jerking forward once, before he had to wrench himself back like he’d been shocked.

“i-i have to-, tractor,” he stammered, jumping hurriedly himself off the couch, your saliva connecting a line from his thumb to your lips. he tripped over his own boots, catching himself on the doorframe, and fled.

you laid there, heart jackhammering, and underwear chafing against your swollen bud. your tooth still throbbed, but the pain dulled in comparison to the way he’d looked at you, like he wanted to eat you alive, and like it terrified him.

[kjhbsies]

Stay Close

navigation | main masterlist | rules

Smallville Clark Kent x reader

synopsis: Y/n started to tone down her flirting when she thought it made Clark uncomfortable. But Clark pulls her close and finally admits that he never wanted her to stop.

wordcount: 962

note: a bit of angst, fluff

The sun cast a warm glow over the lake, the air was filled with the sound of giggles, splashing water, and overall serenity. It was supposed to be the perfect day. You planned it all for weeks— just you, Clark, Chloe, and Pete hanging out after a week of overloading schoolwork and weird escapades around Smallville.

But as you sat on the picnic blanket, quietly watching Pete and Chloe argue by the lake, your thoughts were only about what you'd heard last night.

"She's relentless, isn't she?" Chloe said, half-laughing.

"Don't you think Clark gets annoyed with her sometimes?" Pete asked her.

Chloe shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, he's probably just too polite to speak up."

It wasn't said with any sort of malice. Just a casual commentary about you and Clark's relationship. But it got you thinking that maybe they were right.

You just liked Clark so much, and you've told him about it a couple of times jokingly. But you were very serious about your feelings for the guy. You couldn't help teasing or fawning over him every chance you get because you find everything he does very adorable.

But right now, you were sort of keeping your distance for a bit. You tried to replay every interaction you had with Clark, and you've noticed that every time you compliment him, he doesn't say anything. Just a casual laugh or smile thrown over at you. You thought nothing about it before— like maybe, he enjoys it, too. But maybe you were wrong.

Your chest ached at the thought. You didn't mean to make him uncomfortable or anything of the sort. You were just being you. But maybe it's time to back off for a little bit. So that's what you were doing right now.

You didn't call him Clarkie or handsome when he offered to carry the cooler. Didn't brush the hair out of his eyes after his swim. Didn't throw a flirty comment when he came out of the water shirtless, droplets running down the ridges of his sculpted chest, looking every bit of a guy that was straight out of your dream.

Instead, you sat over there quietly. Guarded. Still.

Clark walked over to where you were, droplets still trailing down his hair as he took a seat beside you. You felt the warmth of his skin as his shoulder brushed yours, but unlike every other time, you didn't lean into it. Didn't melt into it.

"Hey," He looked at you, brushing your damp hair over your shoulder to take a look at your face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Clark." You gave him a quick smile and shifted slightly, putting a few inches of space between the two of you.

His brows immediately furrowed. He didn't like that. Not one bit.

Without missing a beat, Clark closed the gap again, this time more purposefully— his arms brushing yours. Still, you said nothing.

Clark watched you. Studied the way your hands rested in your lap. The way your eyes lacked sparkle, like they usually did when he was around. And it made his chest feel tighter.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked quietly, head tilting just enough for you to meet his eyes. His voice was soft with worry.

You let out a dry chuckle, looking at him. "Clark, no. Why would you say that?"

"You seem quiet," He says, eyeing you.

"I'm fine," You repeated, offering him a small smile. Then, almost without realizing, you shifted a little farther away.

Clark's jaw tensed. He noticed. Every inch you scooted away from him felt like a pinch in his heart. He didn't even think— he just reached out, big arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you against his chest, pulling you flush against him.

Your breath hitched.

"Clark—"

"What's going on?" He hummed, running a soothing hand along your shoulder. "You've been off all day."

You looked away, heart pounding against your chest wildly. It was hard keeping your feelings at bay already. But now that he was touching you— holding you— almost made your heart burst right there and then.

"I just..." You started, voice going soft. "Did I make you uncomfortable?" You looked up at him.

"What?"

"Do you think I was being too flirty? Too annoying?" You gulped. "And if I ever did make you uncomfortable, then I am really sorry. That was the last thing I ever wanted you to feel."

He was quiet for a bit, still studying you. You looked at the lake again, and still, Clark said nothing.

"Clark," You said again, trying to wiggle from his iron grip.

"No," He said, and you paused. His arms held firm, but gently, tightening his grip on you. "You're not making me uncomfortable."

You glanced up again. "Really?"

Clark hummed, a small tint of blush creeping across his cheek as he looked away. You noticed the small twitch at the corners of his lip, a smile threatening to break from his face.

"But... you barely say anything when I tease you. When I compliment you."

Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "That's because I'm shy."

You stared at him. "You? Shy? No way."

He chuckled, cheeks flushed. "Only around you."

A wide grin broke out on your face as you stared at him. There was something new in this gaze— something warm. Like he had been seeing you for the first time in a different light.

"Are you saying that you like me, too?" You bit back a smile.

"I thought I was being obvious even before."

And just like that, the clouds in your chest lifted. You grinned—wide and bright— before leaning into him like you usually does. You rested your head against his shoulder, your fingers intertwining with his.

©kjhbsies

[buckybarnesandmarvel]

hey guys! i think i may slowly be coming back into the writing mood, so hopefully, this week i'll be able to post a fic! i know i have tons and tons of drafts and requests not done and thank you all for being so patient, but can i request if anyone can send in a couple more requests, maybe? i've been scrolling through my drafts and i'm not really getting any inspiration to start off again. thank you again and i love u guys loads!!

i'll tag some people later too :)

[chrispineisagoddess]

[Succession]

AU where Tom moves to Canada to be with Greg before he even meets Shiv and works at Waystar. They meet on a dating website and Tom ends up applying for the highest paying job at the park and since he’s overqualified, he basically gets the job. They move in together after 6 months of dating even though Tom wanted to move in straight away but he waited until Greg was ready. Tom gets promoted by Logan on account of how much the park’s revenue has gone up since he started working there and tells Tom to move to New York where he can fill his new position. Where Tom goes, Greg follows and so they end up at Waystar Royco. Logan already knows about Tom and Greg before the offer and finds that Tom being gay(actually bisexual) would actually look good for the company.

-

I thought this would be absolutely adorable. Tom meeting Greg through dating and that’s how Tom and Greg end up at Waystar. Not only that but they’re public and Tom doesn’t even know that Greg is part Roy until they move to New York. Greg’s too shy to even mention that he’s related to the Roy’s. It’s the same way he didn’t want to use it when working at the park. 🥺

[sabrinasopposite]

friends or lovers?

pt. 2 of drinks or coffee / college!charlie baker x photographer!reader

summary: stolen kisses, polaroids, photo booths, coffee and a questionable situationship. y/n waits till charlie ask her finally out, or are they just friends?

Autumn folds itself over New York like an old, beloved quilt—warm, golden, frayed at the edges. The air smells of cinnamon and rain-damp pavement, and somewhere between the red-brick college buildings and the quiet hum of late afternoon, y/n finds herself seeing Charlie Baker through a different lens.

They are not together. Not officially. But there are Polaroids of him in a box beneath her bed, tucked between receipts of late-night coffee runs and half-melted red lipsticks he once pressed a kiss against. There are moments—his laughter curling like smoke in the cold air, his hands brushing against hers when he hands her a camera, his eyes catching hers across a room—that make her wonder if she is something more than just a passing season to him.

She never asks. And he never says.

They start hanging out after class, in the spaces between their lives where time stretches slow and golden. She teaches him how to take professional pictures, and he watches her like she is the one worth capturing.

“Like this,” y/n murmurs, adjusting the lens. Her fingers, delicate but sure, guide his hands over the camera. Charlie is a quick learner, but he’s distracted today—his gaze flickering to the way her lashes kiss her cheekbones when she blinks, the way the afternoon light pools against the dip of her collarbone. He wants to tell her she is beautiful, but instead, he just says, “I think I like this.”

y/n only hums in response. Photography. Her. He isn’t sure anymore.

but later, when he isn’t looking, she takes a picture of him—grease-smudged and sun-drenched, working on his car, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A moment preserved. A secret, just for her.

He buys her a camera with his own money.

y/n doesn’t expect it. She unwraps the box with careful fingers, her breath catching when she sees the sleek, familiar frame—the model she had offhandedly mentioned wanting months ago.

“Charlie…”

His hands are stuffed into his pockets, but he shrugs, looking almost sheepish. “Your old one’s been acting up.”

She swallows around the lump in her throat, her heart pressing against her ribs like it wants to escape. This is more than a gift. It is him paying attention. It is him remembering. It is him saying something without saying it at all.

She doesn’t know how to thank him, so she just steps forward and wraps her arms around him, her cheek pressed against his chest. He stiffens for half a second before exhaling, his hands finding the small of her back. He holds her there, warm and solid, and she wonders how she is supposed to go back to being just his friend after this.

Their first kiss happened in a photobooth.

It is supposed to be a joke—crowding into the small space, laughing as they press against each other. The first photo is blurry, their smiles mid-motion. The second, exaggerated faces. The third—something quieter. Softer. A moment where y/n’s breath stutters because she is suddenly aware of how close they are, of the way Charlie’s gaze drops to her red lips, of the way time seems to hold its breath.

The fourth click of the camera catches the moment his mouth brushes hers.

A kiss, caught in black and white, immortalized before either of them fully register it.

Later, y/n keeps the photo strip in her box, between a napkin from the coffee shop where they sat too close and the memory of his hands laced with hers. But they do not talk about it. They never do.

Her friend asks one day, with an arched brow and a knowing smile, “Are you and Charlie dating?”

y/n hesitates. Laughs it off. “No, we’re just friends.” The words taste strange on her tongue. Because in her lenses, they looked like a couple. Like a couple of a movie or a book, simply the good looking guy from college likes the photographer girl. But it was more than that, Charlie was more than that. 

He was like a shot of espresso, being bathed in sunlight when he was around y/n. She made him feel like the best version of himself, without even trying. But for y/n, Charlie was her eternal sunshine. He was perfect for her imperfectness.

But then she hears it—Beth’s name, mentioned in passing by one of Charlie’s friends. His ex. The one who texted him after he soft-launched y/n on Instagram, a blurry photo of her in golden light, captioned with nothing but a heart.

It’s nothing, they say. Probably just a casual message. But y/n feels it settle in her stomach like a stone. What if she’s just the in-between? The girl who is there because Charlie is lonely, because it’s easy, because autumn is fleeting, and so is she?

She doesn’t want to be the other woman. The placeholder.

So she pulls away.

Missed messages. Half-hearted smiles. Excuses.

Charlie notices.

It was a Friday afternoon, where the sun was disappearing from its sky and the stars were slowly shining around. Charlie found y/n in Central Park. She had left her phone in her dorm, wandering the city with her camera slung over her shoulder, trying to quiet the thoughts unraveling inside her. She took pictures of golden leaves reflected in puddles when the sun was still there, of strangers lost in laughter, of the sky stretching endlessly above her. She had planned to go to her favorite vintage cinema, lose herself in old film reels and dim lighting, but before she could, Charlie was there—winded, breathless, searching.

“There you are,” he exhales. y/n looks up at him, the weight in her chest pressing deeper.

“Where have you been?” he asks, voice softer now. “We were supposed to meet at our coffee shop.”

Her hands tighten around her camera. And then, before she can stop herself— “What are we?” she blurts. The more she looked at him, the more she felt. That was simple. Thats what she liked when she was around Charlie, he wasn’t an adjustment like in cameras. He was there that she could simply just tell everything, without pulling back or like adjust her camera for its perfectness. 

Charlie’s expression shifts, his features caught between surprise and something more careful. “What do you want me to be?”

y/n thinks of the Polaroids, the coffee receipts, the soft-lipped kisses caught in frozen frames. She thinks of the way she feels when he looks at her like she’s something worth capturing. “I want us to be us,” she whispers. “More than just friends.”

Charlie’s face softens, and then— A slow, brilliant smile spreads across his lips, like the first crack of sunlight after a storm. “I was waiting for the right moment to ask you,” he admits. “But it seems you stole my moment or idea.”

Her laugh is a breath of relief, a quiet surrender. And when he kisses her this time, in front of the vintage theater, beneath the endless city sky, it is not something to be tucked away in a box.

It is something to be lived.

Something to be real, which was more worth than a camera pic.

y/n would have never guessed that being stuck in a lame and bad party, would give her the best thing like Charlie.

🍒 ps: I heard that y/n has polaroid pictures of shirtless charlie------ 💌: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23 @angelsgalore @collywobblvs @tvdelrey @tinainaction @seulgi-burgundy @floralscented @artyandink