clark kent thinks you're avoiding him... you are - drabble #1
🩵💗 - i have never felt so inspired in my life (total lie but still - clark kent has me in a chokehold - SUPERMAN WAS SO GOOD) this kind of fic is my fav (i've seen it done so so soooo many times with spidey, and i wanted to write my own little bit for superman!!)
corenswet!clark kent, miscommunication trope (im sorry), best friends (idiots in love) to lovers, yearning, MEDDLING LOIS, cursing (not from clark, obvi), secret identity reveal!!
word count: 1.6k
"I know you're in there."
Five words that scared the living daylights out of you. You felt horrible, sick to your stomach. Lying to your best friend wasn't something you particularly enjoyed doing, but it had to be done.
For your own sanity.
You couldn't take it anymore, your friendship.
You loved him so much, too much, some (Lois) could say. It was obvious to everyone but him, apparently. You decided on a whim that the best way to get rid of this affliction was to avoid him (by saying that you were sick). From there, you would strategically miss his calls and texts with well-planned-out excuses. That idea alone would last you a month, maybe two.
Or at least you thought so.
You stared at the door, clutching a pillow close to your chest as if that would calm you down. It didn't. "How did you know that?"
"Well, for one, your lights are on." He sounded impatient, borderline nervous. "I can hear your nervous breathing from here."
"Whoever you're looking for isn't here right now." Smooth, real smooth. You could tell he was breaking; he was probably clenching his jaw right about now. "Come back later."
"I know you're not sick." Damn you, Lois. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, Clark." Your plan for faking a cough was ruined. Most of your plans depended on your sickness. Shit. "I'm just tired."
"Tired?" You imagined your neighbors would be spying curiously at the conversation happening via yelling. "You've been tired for four days, sweetheart."
"You-" You screamed into your pillow, not caring if he heard you. He was horrible, mean without knowing. Mean, because he called you that nickname knowing the effect it had on you. "You're counting, I see."
"I need to see you." Again, was he aware of what he was doing to you, or was he truly so oblivious of his power over you?
"Fine." You muttered to yourself, stalking over, preparing your mind to become a steel trap, impenetrable to all, even those familiar with you. Especially those named Clark. You undid the many locks on your door (Clark's idea) and whipped it open. "Fine! Are you happy?"
God, he was gorgeous. His white button-up hugged his frame in all the right places, and his glasses were in his palm, as if he'd taken them off to nervously rub a hand over his face. "The happiest. Can I come in?"
You stepped aside, shutting the door behind him. "Well, you've seen me."
"What did I do?"
"What-" You frowned. "What makes you think you did something?"
You knew full well you'd given him more than enough to prove he was to blame for your disappearance. He raised an eyebrow, throwing his case and jacket on the couch.
It physically pained you to see him do that, to see him act so casually, like this was routine for him. Like this was home. "C'mon, sweetheart-" You tensed, and he gestured wildly toward you. "See!? You've never done that before. I did something." He stepped forward, his cologne weakening your resolve. "I need to know what it is, so I can fix it."
You walked around him, grabbing his coat and case off the couch, shoving them back into his hold. "You can't fix this."
"Yes, I can." He had the worst hero complex known to mankind. "I can because the alternative-" His voice cracked. "I can't lose you."
You didn't know what to say. You couldn't say he wouldn't lose you, because he was. He was actively losing you. "Clark-"
He opted to throw his things off to the side, their importance nothing compared to your friendship. Friendship. Just thinking the word made you physically nauseous. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" You tilted your head. "Sorry for what?"
"I should have told you." He looked crazed. "I should have told you immediately, but I didn't want to mess it up and-" Your hearing had gone, all your senses failing as your mind reeled with the possibility that maybe Clark, your best friend since high school, your partner in crime, was about to confess his feelings to you.
To you, who was wearing your comfy t-shirt and barely there shorts, whose face looked less than desirable, and whose blue light glasses were doing very little to curb the headache you'd developed.
"Clark, I feel the same-"
"I'm Superman."
Oh fuck. Your eyes welled almost instantly, stumbling over your words. "That's amazing!"
He looked suspicious, like he wanted to ask what you'd thought he was going to say. "Thanks, sweetheart."
You skirted around him, walking into your kitchen and rummaging through the fridge as if you hadn't just accidentally revealed your feelings to your best friend, who happened to be Superman. "So how long have you had these powers?"
"My whole life." He squinted. "What were you-"
"Do your parents know?" You grabbed a cucumber, angrily scrubbing away the germs before grabbing a knife.
"Yeah, I actually-" He tilted his head. "It's a long story."
"Well, I'm all ears." You sliced the cucumber slowly so you had longer to come up with more questions. "This is so exciting."
"What did you say, before I told you I was, y'know?" His arms were crossed, and you didn't know whether to cry or drool at the way the fabric fought against his biceps.
Suddenly, it all made sense, him being Superman. It honestly surprised you that you hadn't realized sooner.
"Sorry?" You grabbed a slice of cucumber, shoving it in your mouth.
"What did you say?" He stepped forward, gently peeling the knife out of your hand, reaching over you to place it in the sink. "Sweetheart, what's going on?"
"Please don't make me do this." Your eyes were wide. "Clark, it was nothing."
"Didn't sound like nothing." He let go of your hand, eyes desperately searching your face for answers. "You were missing for four days. Four days." His hand held your cheek, carressing it gently with his thumb. "I was a wreck. You wouldn't answer my calls or my texts. Even Jimmy was concerned."
"Well, that's sweet of him-"
"You know you've never kept a secret from me before."
"You don't know everything about me, Clark." Shit, that was low, even for you. "I- I meant to say, that..." You stepped out of his hold, grabbing a Tupperware to put the rest of the cucumber in. "Not everything has to be shared between us."
"Oh." His voice was tight, deeper than normal. Serious in a way you'd never heard. "If that's how you feel."
You nodded, too much of a coward to face him. "It is."
"Alrighty." He left the kitchen, grabbing his things from the floor. "Bye then."
"Bye." You watched as he walked out the front door, the door slamming loudly behind him. You would have jumped if you weren't completely numb.
Literally a second later, he burst back through, throwing his things on the ground again, stalking toward you. "Actually, I'm not done."
"Oh really?" You raised an eyebrow. "Because I think you are."
"No." God, he really was intimidating when he needed to be. Obviously, being Superman had its perks. "No, I'm not letting it end this way."
"It?" You scoffed. "There is no it-"
"Why are you being like this?" He looked like he did when you were younger, all flustered and angry, eyes wild and hands animated. "Why won't you just tell me what you said?"
"You really want to know?"
"Yes!" He yelled. "That's all I want!"
"I'm in love with you, you asshole." Tears were streaming down your cheeks in waves, dripping onto your shirt, well, actually, when you thought about it, it was originally Clark's. From high school, the lettering fraying from use. "I've been in love with you for years."
It was like you'd awoken a sleeper agent, because the next thing you knew, you were being picked up like you were nothing and placed on the kitchen counter. "Clark-"
He dove down, kissing you so passionately your eyes practically rolled all the way around. You gasped, grabbing his collar and pulling him even closer (if that was possible). His hands grabbed dangerously at your thighs, trailing up and down, sometimes pinching your hips, your waist.
It seemed like you stayed there for hours, letting out all those years of pent-up tension in one perfect, phenomenal, super kiss.
You were sure you could keep going, but Clark pulled back, smirking when you chased after his lips. "Sweetheart-"
"You can't just-" You huffed, chest heaving as the realization hit you like a punch. "You just-"
"Yeah." His forehead rested against yours, eyes bearing into yours. Well, you thought so. Somewhere along minute two of the kiss, your blue light glasses had fogged up. "You're so brave."
"Yeah?" You laughed. "Braver than Superman?"
"Much braver." He whispered. "I was-" He trailed delicate kisses across your jaw, laughing when your breath hitched. "I was trying to work up the nerve to tell you, and you beat me to it."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize." He found his way back to your lips, his nose resting against yours. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." You grinned, kissing his lips quickly, relishing in the fact that you could do that now for any and no reason whatsoever. "So how long have you been in love with me?"
"Gosh-" His eyes were black, the perfect blue lost below a sea of charcoal. "Give or take twelve years?"
"Twelve years?" You yelled, slapping a hand over your mouth, shocked at how loud you were. Clark peeled it away, kissing each knuckle gently as you whispered. "Twelve years?"
"M'honestly surprised you didn't figure it out."
You snorted, shaking your head at the way tonight had turned out. "You and me both, Kent."
Summary: It had been a month. You no longer saw James every where, and no matter how much you hated to admit it, you missed him gravely. A dramatic confession takes place in the great hall. Happy ending.
Warnings: Swearing, kissing and angst with a happy ending.
Author’s note: Heyhey, this is the FINAL part of the series. I hope ya’ll enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comment to be added to the tag list, happy reading!
Update (5th may 2025) I changed the confession scene a bit to make it better. I didn’t like the previous one much. Xx
(Requests open 💌)
Part 1 , Part 2
It had been a month. A month of guilt that settled deep in your stomach. Each tick of the clock echoed his absence. Your insides hurt, stained by choices you couldn't undo. His laughter haunted the quiet. You didn’t want to admit it, but oh how you missed his wit. Guilt sat heavy—unmoving, unforgiving, a shadow you couldn't escape.
You didn’t see James that often anymore ; he no longer lingered in the corridors, waiting for you to come around. He didn’t stalk you in the library anymore, you should have been happy- you could finally study in peace- but you weren’t. It felt so wrong; not being immersed by his presence.
Pushing aside thoughts of James, you made your way to detention with professor Slughorn. You had been skipping potions class, dreading working with James. I mean thats how it all started - Potion’s class. So, you decided to bunk it and just read from the textbook, you knew it wasn’t right but you hated confrontation. Obviously, when Slughorn found out, he gave you detention.
You made your way to the dungeons, the musky smell filling your lungs.
“Look who decided to finally join us, take a seat Ms. Y/L/N.” Slughorn greeted.
“You can work with him and sort the bats spleen and eels eyes.” The professor continued. Thats when you noticed another figure sitting in the class. His messy black hair looked longer than usual. Merlin’s sake, this cannot be happening. The universe is definitely punishing you. You made your way to James and let out a low “Hey.”
He looked up, but didn’t say anything, and just smiled.
Oh come on. Why was he being so modest. You wanted him to yell, to scream or to at least give you an annoyed look. Maybe then you would feel less guilty, but no. James Potter, being the man he was, remained respectful. You both sat in silence for half an hour, before James finally broke the tension.
“So, why did you get detention?” He asked.
“For not attending any classes from the past month…” you answered , hesitantly
“What about you?”
“For skipping classes…” he trailed off.
Brilliant. Both of you had been bunking classes to avoid seeing each other.
“Blimey Y/N, you don’t need to look so guilty.” James said.
“It’s my fault, I’m the one who should be feeling that way, not you. After all, it was me who initiated the whole thing. I’m sorry for pushing something you didn’t want.” He continued, sounding too mature for his own good.
“Something I didn’t want!?” You exclaimed, exaggerating the ‘i’.
“Yea, you made that extremely clear that night on the staircase.” He defended.
“I never said I didn’t want this. I never said I didn’t want you…” your voice trailed off.
“You do realise how bloody overwhelming you are, right? Especially your friends, don’t even get me started about them.” You said, letting out a bitter laugh.
“Well this isn’t about them, it’s about us.” His voice raised a little too loud.
“If you really thought about ‘us’ ,then you would have done something when Sirius was firing missiles at me the whole fucking night.” You defended.
“Everything all right?” Professor Slughorn asked, intercepting. You had forgotten he was even there.
“Everything is fine professor. I was just leaving.” You spat, storming out of the room.
James had the audacity to think that you didn’t want him? After you spent years and years trying to deny any ounce of attraction you felt towards him, he had the nerve to say you didn’t want him? Oh how you wanted to strangle him right then and there.
It’s fine. This is for the best. You were never meant for someone as flamboyant as James. You knew better than to get sucked into his world. The following night sleep treated you as a stranger. You sat awake, thoughts of James Fleamont Potter stirring in your head.
Sleep deprived and in desperate need of caffeine, you made your way to the great hall for breakfast, half dressed with messy hair and morning breath. It was a bright Sunday morning, most people slept in, so you thought you were safe. But, boy were you wrong. James sat at the Gryffindor table, standing up hastily as soon as you walked in. Before you could turn around and leave, he pulled out his want and cast a spell that locked the doors of the hall. You looked around the room, noticing very few students, so at least your embarrassment was reduced to half.
“What are you doing, James?” You whispered- shouted.
He didn’t respond. He simply looked at you, smiled, and stood up on the fucking dining table. All his friends were gaping at him, especially Sirius.
“Are you feeling all right in the head today , mate?” Sirius asked.
“Oh shut it, Black.” James commanded.
“Y/n… You know, for someone who’s always been told he’s brave… I’ve never been more terrified than I am right now.” He chucked, everyone was staring at him, but he wasn’t taking his gaze off of you.
“I messed up. I shouldn’t have just sat there that night when Sirius ran his mouth. That was fucking pathetic mate, targeting her like that.” He continued, earning a puzzled look from Sirius.
You couldn’t believe it. Was James Potter really standing up to Sirius Black… for you?
“You walked away and I don’t blame you. I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t know it was wrong. I’m sorry for overwhelming you. And I’m so fucking sorry for wasting a whole month avoiding you, when we could have spent it together.” He reached into his robes, pulling out a bouquet of enchanted flowers.
“Accept my apology, love?”
Your heart was racing, your head was spinning and you knew you couldn’t be trusted with any major decisions right now…. But you didn’t care.
You walked closer to him. He stepped off the table as he handed you the flowers. He knew you hated causing a scene. He knew you didn’t like being seen. He knew what he was doing, he was giving you a Gold Rush, and he was enjoying it so much.
You placed a hand on his cheek, not caring who was looking, and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. James wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, completely engulfing you into the moment.
Cheers and whistles erupted from excited students who got to witness a scene this early in the morning. You pulled away from him, to look him in the eye.
“I hate you, James Potter.” You blushed.
“You know you love me, Y/N Y/L/N.” He smirked, still holding onto you.
“Get a room!” Someone , probably Sirius, shouted .
“Oh, we definitely will.” James teased, making you red.
In that moment, you didn’t care who was looking, you didn’t care that everyone else wanted James potter, because you were the one he wanted.
——————————Bonus —————————
“Y/N! Wait up!” A voice called, as you were walking to class.
It was Sirius Black. Ugh, what did he want?
“Listen…. I’m sorry about being so… for being such a prat. I gave you a really hard time for no reason, well I had my reasons. You see, James is the closest thing I have to family that I actually love, so naturally I tend to be very protective of him. I thought you weren’t right for him…. Your just …. Quite different from us. Can I put it like that? But, seeing how happy you make our Jamie, I realised I owed you an apology. Oh and also, James threatened my life if I didn’t set things right with you. Anyways, catch you later, I’ve got class. Bye!” Sirius walked away, after unloading all of that on you and not even giving you a chance to reply.
Fandom/Character(s): Avatar: The Last Airbender/Zuko
Rating: Pg-11/T-
Original Idea: This Imagine
Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) @welovegroot asked if I’d write more Zuko/A:TLA so I did!
^^^^^
Zuko scooted over to make some room for me on the front bench—which was longer than the back bench. It squished the four of us together, but Katara and Toph only protested a little bit. Toph more so than Katara. Who understood that since there were seven of us, we needed to crowd together to fit.
“Thanks,” I said, sitting next to him.
He and I were the Fire Nation runaways. Him the Crown Prince, me an ex-soldier, drafted at a young age due to natural Firebending prowess. Since deserting the military, my hair had grown past regulation-length. No one guessed I was a soldier anymore. With some of my hair in a top knot and the rest hanging down, I almost looked like a high-society citizen. I knew people knew that the Avatar had two Firebenders travelling with him. A lot of people probably knew one was Zuko. No one outside the military knew or cared about me. And I liked it that way.
“No problem,” he muttered.
The play started. All seven of us were in mild shock. It was so corny and blatantly false that I almost wanted to vomit from disgust. Seriously. What was with this writer? Zuko’s actor was over-the-top (but alarmingly accurate to his emotional outbursts)—Katara’s was too—Sokka’s just… wasn’t funny. Aang’s was just a bit bizarre. Toph’s was hilarious—
Then I got introduced.
“Oh my word,” I muttered under my breath, pulling the ribbon I wore as a headband down over my eyes.
“Oh! My dear Prince Zuko! It has been too long since I’ve seen you, my love!” the actress playing me exclaimed, hands collapsed over her heart dramatically. Blushing like mad, I slid down as far as I possibly could on the bench.
She was dressed in a way-too-revealing and entirely impractical version of a Fire Nation military uniform. Her hair was regulation-length—down to the scapulae being the longest hair allowed—with some of it tied up in a top knot. I reached up and pulled the pin out of mine, letting it fall so fewer people would recognize me.
I peered out from under the ribbon around my eyes in time to see Zuko’s actor grasp my actor into a tight embrace around the waist. “My darling!” he replied, equally as dramatic. “Oh how I’ve missed you!”
I felt Zuko tense up next to me, but neither of us could move since we were all squished together on the bench. No sliding away from each other.
Aang leaned forward on my left side to whisper in my ear, “Hey, I thought you and Zuko never met ‘til you joined us.”
“We hadn’t,” I replied. “But given everything else this play has been wrong about… are you surprised?”
Aang let out a little, “Hmm,” of thought before leaning back to watch the rest of the play.
I wished I could set the theater on fire to get out of this ridiculous situation. Oh my word I was going to cry from how terrible this play was.
After a long and disgustingly audible kiss between the actors playing me and Zuko, I covered my eyes with my ribbon again, folded my arms over my chest, and refused to relax from the cringe in my posture.
It mellowed out a little bit, not so much focusing on me and Zuko anymore—though there were moments that I could feel coming from a mile away where I covered my eyes—to the point where I could emerge from under my ribbon.
At intermission, I practically ran out of the theater and into the rest of the building, desperate to get away from Zuko and the events happening so inaccurately on the stage.
I could swear I heard Zuko calling my name, but I ignored him and found a place to hide.
A hallway with a corner at the end that led to nowhere.
There, I leaned against the wall and fixed my hair, smoothing out my ribbon headband and the odd waves from taking out a top knot. I was panting from my jog to get away from the theater. “Oh my word,” I muttered again, burying my face in my palms.
The floorboards creaked.
A callused hand wrapped around my wrists and gently pulled my hands away from my face. “Hey,” Zuko said quietly. “Are you alright?”
“No,” I retorted. “I'm embarrassed.”
“Well no one else knows that we’re here and we’re us,” he said. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed yet. If we are visibly embarrassed, it could give us away.”
I took a deep breath, trying to get a grip. “You’re right,” I said, shaking my head.
Zuko nodded once. “Take a minute. Get yourself together or whatever. See you back inside.”
“See you back inside,” I said.
When the intermission was over and I crammed myself back onto the bench, I did everything in my power not to look at Zuko.
It went well for all of five minutes before the forced love story between he and I got overdramatic and sappy again. We glanced at each other and made faces in apology of how ridiculous the whole situation was.
At the end of the play, when he went down with a cry of, “HOOONNNOOORRR!” the actress playing me wept profusely and promptly lit herself on fire, declaring that she wasn’t going to live without the love of her life. I sank down in my seat again, wishing I’d been born as a bush on the edge of the beach.
Thankfully, when it was all over, we went back to the Fire Lord’s summer home on Ember Island and no one even noticed or recognized us.
Everyone turned in for bed. Except me. I sat out in the yard where Aang, Zuko, and I did Firebending training together and looked up at the stars. It was a warm summer night and the comet was approaching. We didn’t have a lot of time…
“Hey,” a familiar voice said behind me.
I whirled.
Zuko was standing just under the covered porch, one hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. He was in his usual clothes, the dark cloak he’d worn to the play nowhere to be seen.
“Hi,” I replied, scooting over as a cue that he was welcome to sit by me.
He did so, plopping down next to me casually. He wrapped his arms around his bent knees and looked up at the stars. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” I agreed quietly, following his gaze.
After a moment, Zuko sighed and shoved his hand into his scruffy hair. “Listen. I'm sorry about today,” he said. “About the play making you uncomfortable. I knew it was going to be a disaster. I tried to talk the others out of it—”
“It’s not your fault, Zuko,” I said, wrapping my arms around my knees as well, copying his position.
“About, uh… about their portrayal of us…” he began.
“It was definitely over-the-top,” I said.
“That’s an understatement,” he grumbled. After a moment he seemed to steel himself for something, taking a deep breath. “They may have been dramatic but… well… they weren’t wrong how I feel about you.”
The world came to a screeching halt—my brain slammed to a stop and my heart skipped a beat.
“What did you say?” I whispered, looking away from the stars to focus on him.
“I, uh… I really like you. Maybe… even… ah man. Maybe even love you.”
I felt my jaw drop open. For several long moments I just stared, my feet sliding away from me, straightening out my knees as my hands fell to my lap.
“You’re going to punch me, aren’t you?” he asked apprehensively.
Impulsively, I reached out.
My hand slid around the back of his neck and pulled him to me.
I kissed him with complete reckless abandon. The others were all asleep by now, surely, and who else would see? Who else would have to know?
I felt his fingers find the back of my head and neck, threading into my hair. He kissed me back with the passion I was fairly certain was unique to Firebenders. The kind that willed tongues of flame into being.
I don’t know how long the kiss lasted. It wasn’t long enough. When we pulled away for air, our foreheads rested together. I could feel his hair against my skin.
“I… honestly thought you were going to punch me,” he whispered.
I couldn’t help but smile. “No. I wasn’t. It’s about time you admitted you like me, Your Highness,” I replied breathlessly.
“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled with no real malice or menace behind it, chin tilting forward. Our mouths searched each other out again, sealing together hungrily. I could taste the fire on his skin and I was certain he could taste it on mine.
“Hey Zuko have you seen—what the—?!” Sokka exclaimed, quiet but startled.
Zuko and I pulled away from each other with an audible suction noise. “Sokka!” I hissed.
“Never mind. G’night!” Sokka replied, turning on the ball of his foot and skittering away.
Zuko sighed. “I’m going to go talk to him,” he said, moving to get up.
I caught his wrist and pulled him back in for one more kiss. “For luck,” I whispered against his lips.
