gosh i cannot stop thinking about what kissing clark kent is like
clark, with his soft voice and softer smile. clark, who looks at you like the world begins and ends with you.
and every kiss with him starts slow, sweet, bordering on shy little pecks before he gets a little braver and starts to hold you like you carry the light of the yellow sun in your heart.
his hands are always warm. you swear he runs hotter than the rest of the world. he is warm, the same way the summer air is warm, just as the sun starts to set, that comfort lives somewhere just beneath his skin, seeping through the fabric of your clothes.
he holds you like it’s second nature, like his body was made to know yours. one hand cradles the side of your neck, broad fingers spread gently across the back of it, grounding and protective, sending a jolt of thrill down your spine.
his thumb moves in slow, absent-minded strokes along your jaw, tracing the shape of you like you’re something he never wants to forget. the pad of it brushes the curve beneath your ear, then glides along your cheek, as if he’s coaxing your face toward him with nothing but tenderness.
his other hand settles low at your waist, fingers resting just above the dip of your back. he draws you in without force, just a steady pull, soft and sure. he likes to keep you close enough to feel your heart beat against his.
he likes to hold you with one hand, cupping the side of your neck, fingers splayed across the back of it, gentle touch at the nape, his thumb caressing your jaw lovingly. his other hand rests at your waist, nearing the small of your lower back so he can pull you close and closer if he wants.
and then his lips, gosh, those soft, full, plush lips, moulding with yours. he tilts his head just a little to kiss you, those curls shifting with his movements.
clark only pulls away to look at you, it’s like he can’t help himself. his gaze lingers on your lips before it climbs back to your eyes, all soft and starry. he leans in again just enough for his nose to brush against yours. it’s a small, playful nudge. he does it again, just to see your smile start to pull at the corners of your mouth. you try to stay still, to meet his gaze with mock sternness, but it’s useless. he always gets it out of you—that shy, quiet laugh, the one that bubbles up before you even realize it.
you shake your head, barely, and murmur something like “you’re ridiculous,” but your hands are already reaching for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt like they’ve done this a thousand times.
you tug, gently but with purpose, pulling him in, and he follows your touch like gravity. his body leans into yours again, his hand at your waist tightening, fingers pressing into the dip of your back until there’s no space left between you.
he exhales through his nose just before your mouths meet again, a sigh caught halfway between a laugh and a moan, like he’s been holding his breath waiting for this.
when his lips find yours again, it’s slower this time. deeper. needier. his mouth parts beneath yours enough to invite you closer; an open door you’re already halfway through.
he sighs into your lips, letting his breath mix with yours, letting his hand at your waist tug you even closer if that's possible. his lips part open just enough to invite you in and deepen the kiss, which you do without hesitation, of course.
your tongue presses past the soft seam of his lips, slipping through the smallest space between his teeth. he squirms.
just the slightest shift of his shoulders, a barely-there gasp caught in his throat, like he wasn’t ready for it, even though you do this every time. you always find his tongue with yours in that same way. and he always acts like it’s brand new, like it takes him by surprise.
you huff out a laugh against his mouth, and his fingers twitch at your waist in response. he pretends he’s not just as flustered as you are.
you press your tongue between the gap of his teeth, huffing out a laugh when he squrims, every single time, the moment your tongue finds his between the press of your lips.
clark doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, by the way. he kisses with his entire body. he loves to press into you with every inch of himself: with the curve of his shoulders as they dip into yours, the line of his chest as it meets the rise of your own, his hands, his breath, the subtle tremble that runs down the length of his spine
he presses into you like he’s trying to become something smaller, something moldable, something soft enough to be held, and not feared. every inch of him seems to lean forward, like he’s being drawn to you without choice, like your touch rewrites gravity, like he wants to crawl into your chest and make a home in between your ribs, beside your beating heart.
he makes these quiet, barely-there sounds as he kisses you—little hums low in the back of his throat, hushed and breathy and almost shy, like they’re slipping out against his will. they’re the kinds of sounds that feel secret, just for you, tender things that fall apart in the space between your mouths.
and he likes to talk sometimes, actually, he really likes to talk, especially when he’s kissing you. not before. not after. no, right in the middle of it. lips still lazily slotted against yours, breath catching in that soft space between moan and mumble, words tumbling out all muffled into your mouth like his brain can’t help but share whatever’s swirling in it, even if it’s completely useless.
and half the time, it is.
you’ll be midway to melting into him, half a second from sighing his name into his mouth, hands moving to run through his hair, and there he goes—muttering about laundry or whispering a quick “can y’remind me to call ma back later?” in the same breath he’s using to kiss your bottom lip.
sometimes, it’s sweet. so sweet you want to cry a little—the way he’ll suddenly whisper a soft, breathless “you’re so beautiful,” right into your mouth. other times, you’re trying to decipher something about how he finally remembered to pick up that weird milk you like with your coffee after work, the one he’s forgotten to grab three days in a row. you try not to laugh into the kiss, but you do, every single time.
but god forbid you ever try to say something mid-kiss.
maybe it’s something stupid, like a joke you forgot to tell him earlier or something silly jimmy and lois got into at work today. maybe you just want to say “i missed you,” or remind him that the oven’s still on—but he doesn’t care. not in that moment.
he’ll nod, pretend to listen, let out these soft hums of encouragement like he’s totally invested. “mhm,” he’ll say, eyes fixed on your lips, watching the way they move. catching every flick of your tongue. every flash of your teeth.
he tries. he really does. but his patience is paper-thin, and the moment you pause to breathe, he’s already leaning in again.
“baby,” he’ll whisper, voice low and warm and soaked in affection, “can we talk later?”
his hand comes up to your cheek again, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, gaze drifting from your eyes back to your lips and then back again.
and listen, he does that thing where he looks right into you. eyes soft and pleading, blue as a spring sky just before rain, his lashes heavy, his smile barely there. it’s not fair.
he says your name like it’s the most precious word he knows, like he’s afraid it might fall apart in his mouth if he says it too fast. and just like that, whatever you were going to say is gone, the thought evaporating into the heat between your bodies, replaced by the ache of wanting to feel his mouth back on yours.
keep coming back to this and it drives me crazyyyy everytime. too good. he's perfect in this.
he's just such a lover boy with his awkward "loser" persona and higher pitched fake voice to keep up with his secret identity that'd be so... when youre in bed with him...
let me shut up actually. i fear i've said too much.
having crash out after crash out. from failed talking stages to broken laptops to having no motivation for writing what so ever to working everyday with no free time.
i might start writing again soon thoughhh. will probs be a bit shitty bc it'll be typed on my phone BUTTTTT i need it
if im subjected to one more post that is anti-percabeth i'm going to go crazy. like GET OUT OF MY FACEEEEEE
i do not care if you like other percy ships, but saying "she's always insulting him and never complimenting him" ... oh so you have to only ever acknowledge your closest friend, your significant other, your LITERAL OTHER HALF in the best way possible because any other way would be abusive? like i can't lovingly make fun of my partner because why?
GOODNIGHT. and comparing her treatment of percy to the literal abuse he's face from gabe and any other adult that's mistreated him is so wild???
yall are hating on a fictional teenage girl for being A FICTIONAL TEENAGE GIRL? like yall must be sooooo fun at parties.
rewatching riverdale but every single time reginald mantle is on screen i go batshit crazy like i've been put in a hypnotic trance that can only end in me being put in a self hugging, all white jacket.
rereading what i had written for a frat!luke thing i wanted to write...
describing his outfit as "the sluttiest thing a man can wear" is so??? i mean he'd eat that shit up but... what even... it's quite literally in there as:
"you just caught a glimpse of the whole reason you came here, and he’s looking so scrumptious. his dark brown curls were sitting perfectly atop his head and his outfit was the sluttiest thing a man could wear."
hiiiiii, i'm alive guys 💪 i just had one too many overthinking sessions since i graduated, but i've been lurking !
idk if i'm gonna continue ready to love because i kind of forgot it existed??? i probably will, but i'd need a second to recoupe and get back into it! (the taglist is still weird so idk how so fix that tbh)
but new chapter for it possibly coming soon to a tumblr account near you ?!?!?!!
i need anakin skywalker in my ear every waking moment, every second of the day. i need him to purely just speak to me until he can't any longer. pretty boy talk my ear off about anything and everything PLEASE omfg.
manipulate me, cuss me out, whisper sweet nothings to me, idc what it is, as long as i get go hear that voice bc omfg
abt to write some myself omfg i can jst see it. maybe i can get a little sneak in there too. if they can sneak him into BRIDGERTON or HARRY POTTER then *I* can sneak him into a pjo imagine.
jackson wang nd luke castellan throwing a party together when?
i'm kind of insane so thematically if luke is not at camp in my trouble!verse fics i dont want him wearing the camp shirt in the header... but ive told yall abt how charlie makes me laugh when he poses for photos bc its not as natural
do you know how much of a psycho i felt like while screenshotting dior's tiktok frame by frame to get him looking natural for something yall prob wont even look at 😭😭
anyways here's evidence of my hard work im so normal about this he has a nice smile when hes not thinking too hard about it
enjoy the photos charlie nation im gonna go be embarassed for the rest of the day
edit: if you're reading this walker and charlie are now the same height i fear they have to film s2 now or mr evil man is gonna be wearing platforms in their scenes together
its been 4 hours since i said i was gonna take a break off this hellsite until tuesday but i saw mans fit check and it got me so mad that i've resurfaced. enjoy charlie nation i will be Thinking Thoughts when i get drunk tonight (jaw shot as a personal treat for me i stared at it too long)
guess this thread is my new charlie/luke header archive....
he can't keep doing this bro i woke up after a food poisoning nap and saw him on the percy acc one second a day video and i actually SIGHED and GOT TO WORK
was sitting on a bad boy piece of information and wanted to share
the first two made my eye twitch to the point i went to edit the days off the side. the second row is just adorable, and well... yes i got the third row from the fucking terrible singing video (which yes it does prove my hc that luke cant sing.)
mr charlie bushnell if you ever see this thread i apologize i am but a humble fanfic writer
this whole thing has me going feral in the middle of class. i'm actually going crazy, i need this man so bad.
if yall dont hear from me, i was staring at this thread too long. like jfc his hands are so fucking crazy, need to eat them so bad (im not elaborating further)
this is so bsf!rafe who wants so badly for you to look at him and not other guys. like he wants all the attention and time you're putting into different guys and crushes you have when all you really need (in his opinion) is your best friend who does everything you ask. but he listens to your boy problems like a good friend, hoping that one day you open your eyes and see him.
the taglist for ready to love... sobbing rn half the people it won't even tag nd i tried redoing it. UGH! hating tumblr rn i jst wanna give these people what they want... a stupid luke castellan smau !!!!!!!! (the !'s are with anger)