catching you mid-fall
ship: clark kent x f! reader (friends to lovers)
cw: (sfw) extremely fluffy, friends to lovers trope, clark being gentle & protective, some physical touch (hand-holding, catching, soft kiss), small-town meddling (very harmless), fall on ice (no injury) holiday theme & decor nothing heavy, nothing distressing — just warm, cozy, soft romance.
wc: 5k
an: day ten already! ❄️ this one is pure cozy small-town fluff because clark kent deserves to be everyone’s winter safety net and gentle giant. thank you for reading along, please grab some hot cocoa, bundle up, and enjoy being caught (literally) by kansas’ softest farmboy. 🎄✨
now playing: cozy little christmas by katy perry
smallville always looks cute. but in winter? in december? with snow frosting the barns and garland wrapped around every light pole? it looks like a christmas card that got insecure and tried to over-deliver and walking through it with clark kent who has a smile that could melt glaciers... is almost too much. your boots crunch in the fresh snow as you and clark head toward town.
breath misting, cheeks cold, fingers stuffed in your pockets. clark walks beside you with those long, almost hesitant strides of his like he’s trying not to outpace you but also accidentally still does because his legs are approximately a mile long. he’s bundled in a flannel-lined jacket, scarf tucked neatly into the collar, hair a little messy from the wind. and the way he keeps glancing down at you?
yeah. that’s enough to thaw every icicle in kansas. "you sure these boots are… safe?” he asks, eyebrows knitting in concentration as he watches your feet like they’re about to commit a crime.
"they’re fine." you insist. "they’re winter boots." clark winces like that means nothing to him. "smallville winter is… intense." you roll your eyes playfully. "i’ll be okay, clark." he reminds y about earlier. "you slipped twice walking to the truck." you chuckle, embarrassed by earliers moment. "that was a warm-up!" he looks horrified. "a warm-up for what?" you shoot back rapid-fire under his gaze. "for the day! for life clark! it builds character."
he stops, looks you dead in the eyes and says with complete sincerity, "i don't want character. i want you not to get hurt." your heart does this olympic-level gymnastics routine of a flip. "clark." you say softly, "i'm okay. i promise." he nods, shaking his. head still unconvinced. and he stays closer after that knowledge. close enough that your arms brush. close enough that the cold seems to be far away. close enough that it feels like something is beginning.
you reach smallville’s general store, where a wreath big enough to be seen from space hangs on the door. the bell above the entrance jingles. "clark kent!" mrs. greeley shouts from behind the counter like she’s announcing the arrival of royalty. "and—oh my stars!" she freezes when she sees you. then her eyes go full cartoon mode with those exaggerated sparkles. "who?" she slowly leans forward like she's examining a rare gemstone, "... is this lovely young woman?"
clark turns red, and even redder then somehow redder. "this is my friend..." mrs. greenley repeats. "friend." nodding her head like someone being told the earth is flat. "of course, lovely. wonderful." you smile politely. "hi. i'm-" she plays along and says, "oh, i know who you are." she says knowingly, "clark's friend." clark looks at the celing like he's just begging ir for help. "we're just picking up some things for my ma." he mutters.
mrs. greenley hums loudly, a noise that could only be tranlated as 'sure, jan' and bustles away. clark sighs. "i'm so sorry. she's gonna-" you fill in his sentence. "ship us?" you offer. he looks startled. "she ships things?" you chuckle, "no clark. she ships people. you and me." he blinks rapidly. "people can do that?" you pat his arm. "welcome to small towns." she returns with an armful of cinnamon rolls and sets them on the counter.
"on the house." she says with a wink. "for the two of you." clark sputters as you grin thankful. mrs. greenely looks at you triumphantly. she bids her goodbye to you and clark as you head out to leave. clark's still a red tomato.
when you step outside, the snow is brighter than movie lighting and the air crisp enough to bite. clark's carrying the grocery bag in one hand and the cinnamon roll bag in the other, because he's ever the gentleman and refuses to let you carry more than a snowflake. "careful down this stretch." he warns "there's some black ice." you nod. "i'll walk slow." he nods back. "good." he says, sounding relieved. you take one step.
then another. then. your boot hits a patch of invisible ice. everything goes wrong at once. your foot slides. your arms flail like a startled penguin. you let out a noise so embarrassing it might just haunt you forever. you're falling, fast. but you don't even get to feel the impact of the hit on the ground. because clark moves, moves like light, like instinct. like he knew you were going to slip before your brain did.
his arms are around your waist in less than a heartbeat. your back never touches the ground. he pulls you into him, steadying you, holding you against his chest like you're breakable and precious and everything in between. you gasp, and his breath catches too. "are you okay?" he asks, his voice low, warm and shaken.
you blink up at him, still cradled in his arms. "clark." you whisper, "how did you get to me that fast?" he freezes. "uh...i just.. reacted. adrenaline." he blinks. "no one reacts like that." he swallows. "well... i didnt want you to get hurt." your heart is beating so loudly you're convinced he can hear it. "clark." you murmur, "you can let me go." he tightens his grip on you. "i... don't want to." your breath falters a bit. "oh?"
his cheeks pinken, as his thumb brushes your hip. barley, softly, like he doesn't even realize he did it. "but i will." he adds quickly. "if you want me to" you look down at his hands holding you, big hands, steady hands,and strong hands. hands that caught you before the world did. "i don't." you whisper, he exhales shakily, then smiles. it's small, shy but glowing. "okay." he says and he doesn't in fact let go.
clark walks the entire way back to the farm with his arm around your waist. not loosely, not even casually. it's firm, protective and close. like he's daring gravity to try something again. "clark." you tease after a minute. "i think i can walk now."
he says softly, "i know." another few steps and you ask playfully, "you sure?" he nods his head and his voice is soft, steady and warm. "yes." you laugh, loud and genuine. "are you ever letting go?" clark considers, genuinely considers. his face warms and speaks, "maybe later." your heart does another cartwheel.
the kent farm-house sits like a warm, glowing latern in the snow covered land. martha opens the door before either of you reach the porch. "oh good." she says brightly. "you're..." she stops, she sees the way clark is holding you. she sees how close your both standing. she sees everything. her eyebrows shoot up. her smile goes from polite to supernova bright.
"well." she says cheerfully, "looks like the ice got you two closer than expected!" clark chokes. "maaaa!" his ears turning pink the second he sees how close in fact the two of you are. martha beams, "come in! you must be freezing. both of you." clark reluctantly removes his arm but stays close enough that your coats brush softly.
martha ushers you inside and hands you each a warm mug of hot cocoa in record ten seconds. then she past your hand warmly."i'm glad you're okay, sweetheart." clark stands behind you, towering your small frame looking like a tomato with anxiety.
marth looks between the two of you, the casually says, "you know, jonathan and i slipped on ice once. it's how we ended up dating." clark makes a sounds that resembles a dying tractor
later, you and clark decorate the tree together, a massive douglas fir that barely fits through thr ceiling. clark hands tou ornaments like each one is delicate treasure. he keeps brushing against you. he keeps smiling when you catch him watching. at one point you stand on your tiptoes to reach a high branch and wobble a little. naturally clark reflexively grabs your waist. "careful." he murmurs, as you smile down at him. "i knew you'd catch me."
his blush is warm, and soft. "i guess... you did." krypton wanders in, barks approvingly, then gets distracted trying ot eat a pine cone that'd fallen. martha laughs from the doorway like the queen of holiday romance.
when the tree is finished, you step back together admiring the soft glow of the ligths. gold, warm, gentle. clark glances at you. "i'm glad you came today."
he says quietly not to disturb the soft moment between you two. "well, i'm glad you caught me." he laughs, a soft joy-filled sound. "yeah, uhm, anytime. always."
you slip your hand into his, and he stills. you intertwine your fingers with care, slow and deliberate it feels like a vow. "martha was right." you say softly. his voice came out soft, somewhat choked. "about what?" you smile softly, "that ice does bring people closer."
clark matches your blush that glows on your cheeks, angelically lit up by the multi coloured lights. he doesn't dare look away. "yeah."he whispers. "yeah, i guess it does."
you're standing under the doorway when you notice it. mistletoe, just dangling above you. hand-tied with a red ribbon. you turn to clark, he pales and flusters, chokes. "that- that wasn't... i mean... ma hung that. i didn't." you step closer, as his breath hitches. "clark." your voice soft, "it's just a kiss."
his freckles are dusted with snow, and his eyes impossibly blue. his lips part, just barley. "you... you don't have to." he whispers. you brush your hair behind your ear as you whisper back, "i want to." clark swallows hard. it's very slowly, like he's terrified of scaring the oment away. he cups your cheek, thumb brushing warmth into your skin. and then he kisses you.
it's soft, gentle, careful. like you're something fragile and miraculous. like he's waited ages without even knowing he was waiting. when he pulls back, he's breathless. "so." he murmurs, his voice low. "uh, can i hold you hand again?" you laugh into his chest. "clark. you never stopped."
later that night, as martha fussed in the kitchen and krypto snores by the fire. clark sits beside you on the couch, your legs touching, shoulders pressed. he looks at you like you're the whole smallville sky. "i'm really glad i caught you." he says quietly. you smile. "me too, kent." he hesitates, then. "i think..." he whispers, "i would've caught you even if you didn't fall."
your breath stops, you murmur. "yeah?" he says, "yeah." his cheeks tinged pink. "i, always will." you lean against him and clark kent, the gentle giant. earnest, impossibly kind farmboy of smallville, wraps his arm around you like home.
