Obviously he loved every which part of you, but your voice is always just a constant reminder that you're his. From the day Clark first heard both your voice and laugh from overhearing a conversation between you and Jimmy, to when you're about to fall asleep but Clark tries to keep you talking in his arms.
"Wait, so what'd that guy tell you?" he asked, fully curious — he knew the answer but he couldn't help but want to listen again to the joke you made about a rude server you had at a cafe.
"Clark, you just asked that same question like a minute ago," you teased, cupping his face in your hands, lightly shaking his head. He just laughed and looked up at you in that love-drunk expression. You sighed and cuddled up next to your boyfriend and began retelling the same story for the now 3rd time.
His need to hear your voice was amplified after coming home from a gruelling day as Superman. Of course, you took right to cleaning him up and tending to any wounds — no matter how fast they may heal.
"How am I gonna get this out?" you fake groaned, pointing to the big dirt stain on his Superman suit.
"You'll use your magic," Clark sleepily replied as he sat on the toilet lid, letting you check him over.
"Sure I will," you murmured. Carefully, you managed to change your boyfriend into some of his pjs and lead him over to bed. Without even having to utter a word, Clark climbed on your chest like a cat trying to get comfy.
"Go to sleep, Clark," you cooed, running your hands through his hair — the moonlight bathing you both in a soft glow.
"M'not tired," he whined against your skin.
"And it's not nighttime," you replied back flatly.
"I wanna talk t'you," his voice wavering between a whine and a sleepy slur of words.
"Okaayyy, what do you wanna talk about, baby?" you asked gently, still scratching his scalp in the way you know he loves.
"I don't know… anything you want," he said quietly.
"Uhh, how's your robot number 4?" you asked, trying to think of more things to talk about.
"He's good, he's called Gary now," Clark told you, his voice trying to sound like he's actually energised.
"Aww, like Gary Oldman," you lightly exclaimed.
"Who?" Clark asked, moving his head up to be level with yours, his eyes heavy with sleep and barely open yet he smiled softly at the sight of you already grinning.
"You know the actor? He was in Bram Stoker’s Dracula and he actually played Dracula," you explained. Clark hummed in reply before moving his head back down to nuzzle against your chest. You continued explaining movies that you've seen Gary Oldman in and from there strayed to movies that you want to watch.
You took a breath in before continuing your thought. Clark's body moved with yours as you inhaled — his whole body draped between your legs and on your torso. Clark's hums and groans in reply quickly became quieter and quieter as his body seemed to fall heavier on yours.
"Did you fall asleep, baby?" you cooed quietly. With no response, you made yourself more comfy under your 225 lb weighted electric blanket and fell back into a slumber.
Even in his dreams, Clark would still find you, because you were truly a dream of his that came to life.
Just Tipsy
Synopsis: Sleepy and totally 'just tipsy', your boyfriend is happy to look after you.
Warnings: Nothinggg just some mentions of drinking
Gemma says: Sue me I love a good drunk fic, even if I can't write it well, but in my defence, I was distracted watching Royal Court while writing. WC:1.4kish
You had drowned out the typical bar chatter as you sipped on your fifth? Maybe the sixth drink of the night. The only thing you were really focusing on was Jack's strong arm as it wrapped loosely around your shoulder as you sat cuddled up at his side, nudging your foot against his under the table. The alcohol made you feel like you could float away if you weren't practically tethered to your boyfriend.
A drunk grin resided on your face as you heard Trinity ask if you were happy there—you replied that you couldn't be happier, and it was completely true—you had a Piña colada and your hot silver fox boyfriend close to you—what more could you want?
Jack spared you a glance, chuckling as he noticed your eyes beginning to droop with sleepiness as your shoulders began to slouch even more.
He had been having a riveting conversation with Robby on one of the war documentaries they had both watched—clearly he underestimated how long he was talking for if you're already this drunk. “Y’alright down there, sweetheart?” His soft voice bringing you away from the blissful haze you were in.
Slowly you tilted your head up, nodding happily as you fiddled with his hand that was resting on your bicep. “Jesus, Jack, you talked the girl to sleep, and you weren't even talking to her." Robby laughed before taking a sip of the beer he had been nursing for what felt like ages as he sat across from you both, with your other friends scattered down the table. You didn't even have to look up to know that Jack was rolling his eyes at Robby as he tended to you, brushing the loose strands of your hair off your face.
“It’s alright; I was talking to Trinity while you guys were rambling on,” a yawn interrupting your words as you somehow leant more into Jack’s side, inhaling the traces of his cologne that always lingers on him. From the corner of your eye you saw Trinity flick her head in your direction from where she was standing at the bar upon hearing her name being mentioned. Robby took the hint, seeing you basically asleep next to Jack, and walked off to the bar.
"Wanna go home?" He nudged his head down to be level with yours. His hazel eyes were shining brightly under the warm light; you could feel yourself being captivated under his gaze—much like you did when you met him on your first night shift.
"Whatever you want,” you shrugged, biting your lip slightly, reaching for your drink, feeling the alcohol tingle through your body as you quickly finished it off.
Jack paused for a moment, analysing your face, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration. “Yeah, come on, let's go home,” he urged, slightly squeezing your shoulders.
“I’m fine if you want to stay,” you added, a tinge of guilt storming through your haze as you remembered how rare it was for everyone's days off to line up like this.
"Nah, let’s go home; you're drunk and sleepy,” he teased, laughing slightly at your reaction to him pinching your cheek.
Exhaling a laugh as you swatted his hand away, somehow your arms felt both heavy and airy. “I'm just tipsy, s'all," you mumbled, beginning to pout slightly.
"Fine, you're tipsy and sleepy,” he corrected, making you laugh once more.
No matter where you two might be, it always feels like it's just the two of you with the way Jack devotes everything to you. You looked up at him, pupils dilated to the point where someone might suspect you took something, but that was just the effect Jack had on you—he was your drug, if anything.
Just as you began to retaliate, Jack dragged you to your feet, already holding you up as you shook on your feet like a foal learning to stand, the room spinning slightly as you began to try to walk alongside him. “Atta girl,” he clicked as you regained your footing, his hand subtly kneading your waist.
“Let me go say bye to everyoneee," you whined, looking back at the table as Jack marched you both towards the door. Stretching your arm out as you waved to Dennis, watching as he laughed and gave you a small wave back.
“Robby will let them know,” Jack reassured, kissing the top of your head.
“Promise?” you asked, outstretching your pinky to him.
“Pinky promise” intertwining his finger with yours before leading you both outside. The cold air of the night was ever so chilling as it nipped your skin. Jack saw your reaction to the cold and pulled you closer, rubbing his hands up your arms to try to help warm you up further.
The walk to his truck felt like a hike. You sighed as Jack let go of you to open the door and to help you climb inside. “I’m right here, sweetheart,” he joked, donning his usual smirk as he fastened your seat belt.
“Don’t be meaaann,” you whined once more, sinking into the faded leather, ignoring how you sounded like a dramatic teenager. Your eyes were tracking Jack as he walked to the driver's side, admiring how good he looked even in just a plain black t-shirt and his faded jeans. “You're really handsome,” you mused, dropping your hand to land on his thigh.
He raised his eyebrow and glanced down to your hand as you ran your fingers along his inner thigh, the denim coarse under your fingertips. “Stole my move, huh, sweetheart?" he said, sparing you a glance before bringing your hand up to his lips, planting kisses along your knuckles. You kept his hand in yours as you squeezed his hand in a rhythm, giggling slightly when Jack squeezed back.
The drive home was a blur as you were on the brink of falling asleep as Jack was trying to keep you awake. “Don’t fall asleep on me,” his voice bringing you back.
“I’m awake,” you replied softly, keeping your eyes shut; you had somehow shifted in your seat to be resting your head on Jack’s shoulder as he drove. Finally, you had arrived home. Jack helped you to get out of the car just like he helped you in, holding you tight in case you were still dizzy—and you were.
He was quick to get you both inside; just as you comprehended that you had arrived home, you were in the bathroom sitting on the counter feeling a cold makeup wipe being swiped across your skin. “I love "you"—the words coming from your lips like they have hundreds of times.
That made Jack stop in his tracks—it always has. He smiled softly at you. “I love you too,” he whispered, like he’d scare off the words if he spoke any louder.
Your hands found themselves tangling in the hair on his nape as you finally managed to kiss him, the warmth from his lips making you feel like you were on fire. Just as you tugged on his silver curls, you broke out in giggles, knocking your forehead against his. “What’s so funny?” he asked, stifling laughter from hearing yours.
“It’s just crazy how I can kiss you anytime I want,” shoulders shaking as you got your words out through laughter. If you didn't embarrass yourself already tonight, this was it. "Like, you're so hot and I’m just me but—” cutting yourself off as you cackled.
Jack was shaking his head. 'Don't say that; you're the most beautiful girl ever,’ pecking your lips as he finished wiping your makeup off. “C’mon, pretty, brush your teeth with me,” he urged softly, passing you your toothbrush.
Somehow you two had cleaned yourselves up and changed into pyjamas. You had, of course, pointed out his farmer's tan when he took off his shirt before ogling him changing into just some boxers as you swung your legs, sitting on the counter, waiting for him to pass you one of his shirts to wear to bed.
At last, you flopped on your bed, immediately hugging Jack’s pillow, inhaling the scent left. You watched him take off his prosthetic, hearing him groan slightly as he rubbed his thigh. “You okay, baby?” you asked quietly, rubbing his freckled back, his muscles relaxing under your touch.
Jack looked back, smiling softly, seeing you stretched out like a cat, his shirt riding up to reveal your soft thighs with your hair tussled slightly. "Mhm", he hummed, situating himself under the covers—after resting his prosthetic against his bedside table—moving his arm to wrap around your shoulder like he did at the bar.
You crawled back to nuzzle into his side, resting your head on the join of his neck and shoulder, tangling your legs with his as you intertwined yourself with him. “Now you can fall asleep on me.” You heard him whisper as you fluttered your eyes closed, enjoying the serenity of the moment.
Staring Problem
Synopsis: You can't take your eyes off your boyfriend but he can't take his eyes off of you either
Warnings: Nothinggg just light teasing in typical Abbot fashion WC:about 600?
Gemma says: Yayay first fic for Abbot done!! I'd like to say I think I will continue writing for him because I enjoyed writing this so hopefully I captured his character well:))
The moment you woke up, you felt the comforting weight of Jack wrapped around you, as if he would die if he didn't hold onto you. Through your half-opened eyes, you could see your alarm clock telling you it was 8 a.m.—you were lucky enough to score a day off from your day shift, letting you sleep in for once.
The lingering scent of hospital soap clung to Jack; he has a habit of showering at the hospital after his shift so when he gets home it's easier to crawl back into bed without waking you up. Very carefully, you turned your head back to admire your very sleepy boyfriend nuzzling into your neck with his arms coiled around you.
With all your might, you tried not to squirm away from the feeling of his breath tickling the sensitive spot on your neck. You sighed softly upon seeing how his features were softened in slumber, letting your eyes follow the pattern of the faint freckles decorating his face.
His silver curls were illuminated slightly from the sun seeping through the blinds. Just as you started to shuffle back into him, Jack piped up, "Stop staring; it's creepy." He teased you with that signature tone, smirking slightly even though he kept his eyes closed.
"'m not staring, old man," you rebutted, trying not to give him the satisfaction of actually feeling your eyes on him.
That earned a small chuckle to come from him as he finally opened his eyes, the sun moving to let the green in his eyes have their moment. "Then what were you doing?" he sighed sleepily, nuzzling into your neck again.
You paused for a moment before replying, relishing the feeling of him tracing his fingers up and down your chest. "Yeah, okay, just go back to sleep," you mumbled in defeat, stretching your hand over to ruffle his hair.
"Wow, not going to ask me how work was?" Jack yet again teased you, feigning offence as his voice was muffled by your skin.
This time you laughed in reply, "How was work, baby?" giving in to him as you twisted your whole body to face him.
"Boring because you weren't there," he replied sweetly with a smile before pecking your lips. While helping out every once in a while for the dayshift was good at times, it definitely wasn't as good as working a shift with your boyfriend.
"Fair enough," you hummed back, enjoying the feeling of him kissing you — after all, how are you meant to survive going what feels like years without kissing your irresistibly handsome silver fox of a boyfriend? "Go back to sleep; you need to actually get a good rest in," you crooned, getting yourself extra comfy against his strong chest.
"If you say so, doctor," you could practically hear him batting his eyelashes like a teenage girl with a crush would do.
Ignoring his antics, you curled more into his chest, feeling truly at ease. But you couldn't ignore how you could feel him staring at you, those hazel eyes boring a hole through you. "Got a staring problem, Abbot?" the smile on your face evident in your tone.
"Mhm, and what about it?" he said softly, tiredness finally showing in his voice as he lazily peppered kisses along your head, squeezing you tighter against him as he went.
You let him have his moment of smugness as you resumed catching up on your sleep. So what if Jack couldn't take his eyes off you because you were the same — worse if anything, but you wouldn't want it any other way, and neither would he.
You can be jealous
warnings:Smutttt, Oral ( m receiving) somewhat dominant reader?? and somewhat subby clark?
"It's okay, Clark, you can be jealous," you purred into his ear, voice dipping into the sultry tone that pushes all Clark's buttons. Not moving your head from the soft spot on his neck just below his ear, you reached for Clark's hands and placed them on your waist. He's always been so scared to touch you, like if he did, he'd ruin and taint you.
The feeling of you straddling him basically sent Clark into orbit as he pawed at your skin. A small groan escaped his lips as you tried to form a hickey on his neck. You could feel how tense Clark was under you; he'd been tense ever since you were assigned to show the new intern around the Daily Planet.
You used it to your advantage to tease Clark, keeping a calculated gaze on Clark as you lightly tapped the intern's arm. But yet when you both arrived home, the pent-up jealousy was practically oozing from Clark. He had never let himself get jealous; he trusts you, and he knows that all your affection goes to him, but seeing that intern smile at you like he was the one who received it made Clark feel feral.
Keeping up your shrewd rhythm of grinding your hips against his, you clawed your fingers through his soft curls, letting your teeth nip at his neck playfully. "I-I trust you," he exhaled in a strained tone.
You brought your head up to meet his eyes, the blue of his iris sparkling. "I know you do, baby," you praised, running your hands down to his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his dress shirt. "But you can't trust that intern," you added innocently, looking at him with wide eyes before kissing his collarbone. To you, it felt like you could hear his heart thundering through his body from your actions.
Smiling against the warmth of his chest as you felt the bulge grow harder against your inner thigh. Clark's grip on your waist grew stronger as you kept nipping at his skin. He was at a loss for words as you put those thoughts into his mind, the ideas of someone trying to take what's his.
You succumbed to your craving of Clark first as you surged your head back up to kiss his lips. He began rocking his hips against you, making you gasp with a wide smile on your face. "I know I'm yours, but that intern thinks he has a chance to take me," you purred once more, lips brushing his own as you spoke.
"I won't let him," Clark finally responded back, his voice surprisingly rough, making his lips meet yours again as he revelled in the taste of you. Like his nerves were actually singing, he moaned into your mouth upon feeling your hand reach down to palm him through his slacks.
It was pathetic that Clark could feel the pre-cum already leaking down his tip. "And how will you do that, Kent?" you asked in a low whisper, pecking his lips as he continued to chase your touch—hips bucking to meet your hand. "Because he likes me a lot, I can tell," you added teasingly, letting the sound of his small whines fill the room once more.
"I'll leave marks on you," he suggested quietly, trying to hide how his voice cracked. You nodded once in reply, letting your fingers fumble with the fly on his pants. "I won't leave your side to scare him off." Clark added breathlessly, his chest heaving with anticipation.
"That's my boy," you venerated from both hearing Clark's 'plan' to keep you his and seeing his cock spring free from his slacks. Kindly, you kissed his lips once more before getting off his lap to kneel before him on the couch.
"What will you do at my side?" you questioned, the cunning grin on your face showing no signs of leaving as your lips kissed the underside of his dick. The gears in Clark's brain were trying to form a coherent thought, but he could only focus on your soft lips planting kisses on his skin.
Fuck, he was close, and you hadn't even taken him in your mouth yet.
"I-I", he stuttered, the words dissolving on his tongue like cotton candy as you began running your tongue along his tip, savouring the taste of the precum dribbling down onto your tongue.
You paused, waiting for his answer, your hands falling idle on his strong thighs. "I don't know, but baby, please," he begged you like he would die without you, his hands reaching to cup your face. You couldn't help but lean into his palms. "He won't be scared of me," Clark tried to bargain, his mind hazy, the only clear thought being how bad he wants you.
"He doesn't have to be scared of you; just scare him off in general," you rebutted, trying to spur him on by kissing his flushed tip. You could feel his hands tangle in your hair, not forcing you down, just there. Clark would never force you down; he hated the idea of that.
His whines and whimpers only grew louder as you ran your fingers up and down his shaft. Feeling restless yourself, only then did you slide his cock past your lips, hollowing out your cheeks as you took your time—Clark wouldn't rush you; plus he wasn't in the state to rush you.
You could hear Clark trying to babble words of praise in between his gasping. Your hands moved to pump his cock in rhythm with your mouth. "I'll do anything for you," he said, words unwavering in devotion to you, sweat sheening on his forehead.
Staying true to his pathetic ways, Clark came into your mouth with no warning—not like you needed it anyway. It oozed into your throat, thick and warm. You only released him from your mouth after you swallowed it all, lapping up the excess cum that ran down his dick.
"Geez, I'm sorry," he tried to apologise, but you ignored the words. Holding yourself up on his thighs, you brought yourself to his lips, letting your body melt against his.
He could taste himself on your tongue, and somehow he enjoyed it; only you could make him better in every way. "Show your jealousy, and I'll make you cum even faster." Your sultry tone was more than enough to make Clark ready for a 2nd round of your antics.
"I will, I promise," he panted, tugging you onto his lap once more, finally beginning to take charge. His lips glossy from your spit and his combined.
Your pupils widened with euphoria as you found yourself on your back as Clark loomed above you, already biting a mark right on the column of your throat, enjoying the feeling of finally making you squirm beneath him.
Maybe just maybe he needs to hide his jealousy just every once in a while if it brings this side of you out to play.
Jack Abbot head cannons
gemma says:I am cooking up some one-shots behind the scenes I swear!! So enjoy these silly little head cannons in the meantime :} All fluff headcannons so no warnings!
Jack Abbot, who is a master rage baiter, his favourite thing is to immediately tell you, "Don't make that face; you'll get wrinkles," whenever he catches you frowning or scowling as he taps your face.
Most of the time you lightly swat him off and laugh, but the odd time you threaten that "the couch seems awfully comfortable tonight"—that humbles him enough to stop as he kisses where he previously tapped. "But the bed seems comfier," is what he usually dares to reply, and so far it's kept him off the couch.
Jack Abbot, who surprisingly loves a good gossip even if you don't share a workplace—but if you do, that's even better.
The moment you both flop on the couch, finally starting to feel some relaxation. "Did you notice something between Garcia and Santos today?" Jack asked you, his expression wavering between a serious one and a mocking one.
"Yes, oh my god, I thought it was just me!" you exclaimed, fully sitting up to face your boyfriend.
He raised an eyebrow at that. "You know damn well it's never just you noticing stuff like that," he corrected, ready to spill everything you both noticed.
Jack Abbot, who will try to text you any chance he gets throughout the day. They range from simple things like asking if he needs to pick up any groceries to quoting your inside jokes when he sees something that reminds him of you.
He also uses those chances to watch the mini vlogs you may have sent him during the day; he loves them. He loves seeing your excitement if you send him a haul after going to the mall or even just a video of your cat misbehaving. All your silly videos and texts ground him, as stupid as it may sound, but it makes him feel even more wanted by you from the fact you take time out of your day to show him those special moments in your day.
Jack Abbot, who somehow keeps up with some internet trends. You didn't expect an older guy like him to be 'chronically online', but alas, he is, and when the younger residents joke and call him unc expecting him to not understand, they all get surprised when he acknowledges it and proceeds to try to use another reference against them. When you both got home, you had to teach him how to use some more slang, and from there, you swear you caught him teaching Robby too.
Jack Abbot, who will DoorDash literally anything to you if you're apart and you mention that you want something, and the same goes for when you two are cuddled up in bed and too lazy to get up and cook. You both look at each other, and it's like you have your own silent language, as Jack is already opening the app. "I can pay," you offer, but every time he just shuts you down with a grin. "I pay, and you go and collect it," he orders softly.
Keepin Busy
Gemma says:A mindless drabble about Pope holding your hand to keep him grounded. A dumb idea, I know but I'm bored, and I love Pope
Pope always needed to be doing something. His brothers know that. Smurf knows that. You know that; everyone knows that. He'd get weird if he hadn't been on a job for a while—Craig was not shy to exclaim that fact.
You two had been dating for about 6ish months, yet you two had only told everyone around 3 months ago. It had taken Pope a lot of courage to tell everyone, but to his and your surprise, they just brushed it off. "Aren't you gonna make fun of me or something?" he asked, his voice in his naturally rough tone, his eyes twitching as he expected endless torment directed at you.
Craig and Daren shared confused glances before J spoke. "We all thought you had been dating her for ages," he shrugged. Smurf nodded before giving you her congratulations through an unreadable gaze. Slyly, you squeezed Pope's hand, giving him some kind of affirmation. He whipped his head back to you, gazing at you with the same look a kicked puppy would give you as he squeezed your hand back.
From that point on, Pope had expected everyone else to expect him to be touchy with you. PDA had never been his thing, and you understood that, so you never pushed him for more in front of others. He loved you in his weird ways, and you loved him in your own ways.
That's why it was somewhat uncalled for when Pope had begun to hold your hand in public, yet it was more than just holding your hand; he'd play with your fingers like a child would with a doll. You'd steal glances when he'd pick up your hand, the focus in his face evident through his pursed lips and slightly squinted eyes. "What are ya doing honey?" you asked, flexing your fingers against his as he examined your hand.
"Just keepin' busy," he replied back, his movements becoming more hesitant as if you scolded him. You hummed back an 'okay' before pecking his cheek as you returned to scrolling on your phone. Gripping his finger to try to coax him back into that haze of relaxation he was just in.
That little habit became more common; at first it made Craig's eyebrows rise in surprise when he saw Pope holding your hand as you were talking to Smurf. Pope didn't care; he let your grip on him keep him steady in every way.
Pope liked order and routine, and you were more than happy to give him that. It was new for him; as much as he wanted those things, he had never been truly given them. You helped him stay in a routine; you'd wake up together, and granted, most nights you'd go to sleep together, and you brought him back into order when you held his hand—bringing him back into reality.
You had always kept him grounded, but when he held your hand and felt your movements in such a close way when the chaos was more prominent with his brothers, it brought back the order he so desperately loves.
It's a small and somewhat weird habit, sure, but Pope Cody has never been allowed the small things to keep him grounded, and for the first time, he's letting someone in to see the things that keep him regulated.
Our House
Synopsis: A cozy night at home with your boyfriend makes you realise this has been all you've wanted throughout everything you've been through.
Warnings: Nothing just my rusty writing. WC:1.6kish
Gemma says:I miss writing for Clark, so excuse how rusty I am with his character give me some time and I'll be better!! I'm sure we can all tell that this fic has elements from the song 'Our House'.
Immediately you felt your body begin to finally relax as you stepped inside your home—letting the scent of the vanilla candles you had brought at a farmers’ market a couple of months ago wrap around your senses. You sighed softly, dropping your bag near the door and toeing off your shoes.
The picture frames of you and your boyfriend adorning the walls are always reminding you of how far you've come to achieve this with someone. Every time you admire the collection of photos of not only you and Clark but also photos of your friends and you, you smile and feel more at ease seeing all those forms of love forever preserved.
Clark was shuffling around the kitchen as you heard a couple pots and pans clatter, making you laugh slightly as you saw him hit his head on an overhead cupboard as he stood up—you'd think a giant like him would be more aware of himself. You had expected him to actually curse as he rubbed the new bump on his head, but no, you just heard him utter 'golly’ as if it were forbidden to say.
You’ve come home many times to a sight similar to this, but yet your heart still melts as you watch your boyfriend's face light up like an excited puppy when he sees you. “Hi, honey,” he exclaimed, already crossing your already small kitchen in a single step to pull you in for a hug.
You took a second to reply as you savoured the warmth from Clark’s body holding you as you tried to hold him as tightly as he was holding you. One of the best things about hugging Clark is the fact you can lean all your weight on him and he won't budge, allowing you to completely melt into him. "Ugh, I wish I'd stayed home today,” you groaned, nuzzling your head against Clark's chest as if you could hide from the world in his embrace.
“I know, but you're here now,” Clark cooed, already taking it upon himself to lightly scratch your scalp. You were; you could almost cry tears of happiness with how safe you felt—if Clark weren't a superhero already, you’d be telling him how he should be one with the way that he does anything to make someone feel safe and protected.
"Dinner's almost done; it's your favourite." Hearing those words from Clark actually made your eyes well up.
“I love you so much,” you declared, stepping back from his arms to cup his face, running your thumbs along his cheekbone as you kissed him. Immediately Clark hummed against you, snaking his arms tighter around your waist to pull you back into him.
In the past you never thought you would want to maintain physical contact with someone, but something felt different with Clark; when you met him, everything truly fell into place. He showed you that relationships don’t carry constant aggression and fear and instead coaxed you out of a state of residual panic with his dorky grin and gentle touches.
Just as your hands trailed down his neck in turn with your tongue slipping past his lips—this was your favourite meal. Suddenly he pulled back, making you whine at the loss of him against you. “As much as I love you and kissing you, dinner's ready." He gestured between you both, letting his dimples show as he grinned down at you. Light-heartedly, you rolled your eyes in reply.
And so, you sat on the counter while Clark dished up two plates, nodding along as you went in depth about your day, beaming wider each time he laughed at one of your jokes. Only slightly feeling like an imprinted duckling as you trailed behind Clark (more so following your favourite meal) as he carried the two plates into the small dining room.
“Thank you so for cooking, baby,” you murmured before finally taking a mouthful of food. moaning in delight as the flavours danced with your taste buds.
Clark's smile widened slightly hearing you enjoy the meal. “It’s okay; you know I love cooking for you,” he stated simply before shovelling almost half his portion into his mouth, which made you remember how much he actually has to eat for him to be satisfied. You would make a joke about how a bear doesn't even eat that fast, but Clark is basically a bear at this point.
You took it upon yourself to wash the dishes; Clark took it upon himself to cling onto you while you did the said dishes. “You okay?” His voice was soft; you felt his chin move against your shoulder with each word he said.
"Mhm,” you murmured, bringing your focus back to the plate in your hand. You drifted off thinking about how you used to always think that life could never be easy—that you were condemned to a life of misery. You’d do anything to tell your past self that everything has been turning out in ways you could never imagine, especially how amazing life has been with Clark.
You let your gaze turn to him as his arms were bonded to your stomach as he nuzzled into your shoulder. He paused in his movements against you the second he felt you peck his forehead. “What are you doing?” he asked, immediately kissing you back.
“Can’t a girl appreciate her boyfriend?" you replied, already ruffling his soft curls. This time Clark hummed something back in reply, catching you off guard as he picked you up and wordlessly carried you towards the bathroom, squeezing you tight as you squealed from being caught off guard. You took the time to do your skincare and brush your teeth while your boyfriend was busy triple-checking the locks on the front door.
Clark gently picked you up again, dropping you on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself. You were confused to say the least. “What are you up to, Clark?” you called out, scrunching the duvet under your hands. Before you could say another word, you heard Clark's heavy footsteps approach you again.
Your face lit up when you realised he was holding your favourite pyjamas in one hand and his own pyjamas in the other. "Well, we've got to finish the show we're watching, and I’ve missed you today,” he explained, his dimples highlighting the smile on his face as he sat down next to you, the dip in the mattress making you fall against his side as if you weren't going to do that anyway.
“You're an actual angel sent from heaven,” you gushed, attacking him with kisses as you hugged him. He just brushed it off, accepting your kisses before helping you change into your pyjamas and laughing when you ran your hands down his muscly torso when he changed (he thought you were joking as you told him you basically drooled seeing him like this, but you were dead serious).
Every muscle in your body relaxed as you lay on Clark's chest, your head barely angled to see the small TV in the corner of the room. Sporadically Clark would kiss your head, but he was quite engrossed in the show while you were admiring all the details in your room. The warm-lighted lamps made the flowers sitting in the vase glow an enchanting colour. Of course Clark had brought you both the vase and the flowers ‘just because'.
Everything in the bedroom was a product of yours and Clark's bond. The bedsheets smelt mainly like Clark’s comforting cologne, but that's where you both had seen and experienced every part of each other—the little trinkets acquired from random thrift shops sat on the windowsill; they truly reminded you of Clark, as one was quite literally a mini Superman.
You didn't know how long you were taking in all the small things that make your house a home, but before you knew it, Clark was whispering, “Wanna watch another episode?” Reverence was forever embedded in his tone.
"Mhm", the exhaustion from your day finally catching up as you sleepily hummed back, knowing damn well you barely knew what happened in the episode just playing. Clark could read you like a book, so you weren't surprised when you heard him switch the TV off and turn off the lamp on the bedside table.
You sighed happily as you sunk more against Clark's body, your legs tangling with his own, letting your hands curl into his sleep shirt. “I'm sorry I'm falling asleep,” you whispered, expecting Clark to be pissed off.
“Hey, don’t apologise; you have to sleep, baby,” he cooed, running one of his big hands over your head. You don’t think Clark has actually ever been angry at you; sure, you two may have had little arguments, but nothing aggressive has ever come out of it, unlike past experiences you have had.
Your body cut you off as you slipped into slumber; the rise and fall of Clark's strong chest beneath you only accelerated the process.
As Clark felt you fall asleep atop of himself, he couldn't help but smile. It was a rewarding fact that he could make you relax to the point where you fall asleep within seconds when you're around him.
He settled himself down further, keeping his arms wrapped around your back and face tucked against your head. He can’t wait for the sun to rise, illuminating you in the soft and warm morning light that radiates his life into his skin, but now Clark’s sure that you give him life.
The dream of having a home full of love and a partner whom you trust and love with everything not only belongs to you but Clark as well.
His ma told him to be patient and stay true to himself, and he’ll find his soulmate. You may not have been told those words, but deep down that hope had never died within you, only hiding in some sort of protection.
Everlasting light
Synopsis: Clark somehow gets drunk, and he wants is to be truly yours after years of being best friends.
Warnings:i'm gonna say there's like no warnings?? but drunk Clark and drunken confessions, so yay! Very small Kara appearance WC:1.8k
gemma says: I'm very proud I locked in to write this for my darling Mel's event, and I think everyone should, so have a look into entering because, my god, it's a cool event.' ' I hope everyone enjoys this! It's starting to become easier to lock in so yay for me!
You never imagined you’d see your best friend like this—completely drunk.
Clark Kent is drunk and clambering through your window, curtains wrapping around him as the wind howls outside.
The multiple lamps you had on inside made Clark feel like he was at home; as a matter of fact, he always feels like he's at home with you.
When he told you Kara was taking him out for some drinks on a red sun planet, you hadn’t expected him to barge through your window like this. His glasses slipping off his nose as he holds onto you like he would die if he wasn’t anchored onto you, his soft hair tickling your neck, Clark couldn't help but nuzzle into you.
Clark has entered through your window many times before this, but usually it was after some mission as Superman.
You could smell the alcohol; it smelt like bourbon, and yet it had notes of something else. It must be some speciality drink from wherever Kara dragged him off to. “Geez, Clark, how much have you had?” you asked, stifling laughter as you noticed how flushed his cheeks were as you helped him stumble over to your couch.
“Mmmm, I dunno; Kara kept ordering, and I kept drinking,” he said with a dopey grin plastered on his face, admiring you as you filled up a glass with some water. He sprawled himself over your couch, one arm dangling off the side as he laughed to himself, stretching his legs at weird angles.
You knelt down with the glass. “Drink up, Clark,” you urged, trying to pass the glass to him, but he refused with a pout, gripping your knee to shuffle himself closer to you. The warmth from his hand made your nerves sing songs of joy.
You jokingly rolled your eyes and guided the drink to his lips, using your free hand to hold his chin. His blue eyes wouldn't leave you as he sipped the water. “You're so pretty. How are you, my best friend?” he asked you with unexpected seriousness, but that seriousness left as fast as it came as he started to laugh to himself, his head lolling to the side to properly look at you.
“What’s so funny?” you asked; a smile couldn’t help but appear on your face as you heard his drunken laugh rumble through him.
Never in a million years would you have thought to see Superman like this.
“Kara asked if I had a girlfrieeeeend, and I said it was youuu,” he slurred, unaware of what he just said. You paused for a moment, your heart throttling as you tried to comprehend it. Before you even tried to speak, you felt his hand cup your cheek; it was warm and comforting, and you couldn't help but lean into him. “Please let me be your boyfriend,” he pleaded, his eyes becoming glossy with tears.
“You’re so drunk,” you teased, unsure what to do in case this was just pure drunk nonsense spilling from his mouth.
His lips parted to say something — but he paused to simply just stare at you. Hypnotised by your beauty, he thought back to his ma telling him that one day he’ll meet his soulmate and it will feel like the sun kissing its soft warm rays onto his skin. That love will be an everlasting light to guide him through anything.
“I’ll do anything to be your boyfriend, but please just let me in your arms.” His voice was almost in a whine as he looked up at you, his other hand extending to grab your wrist. Even while he’s drunk and perhaps unaware of what he’s saying, he still knows how to utilise his super strength as he pulls you on top of him.
The dopey grin on his face only extended when he wrapped his beefy arms around your torso. “Hi,” you said, propping yourself up by placing your hands on his chest, marvelling at how fast his heart was beating under your palm.
“Hi, pretty,” he replied back immediately; the warm glow from the lights made you look even more angelic to him. You softly exhaled a small laugh. Your cheeks are starting to blush a soft red. This is what he had always imagined back in his fortress: healing under the sun, you basking in a warm light, the beams dancing through your hair, but yet your smile would always be brighter.
“I’ll be your girlfriend, Clark,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
“Really?” his voice rising an octave with excitement. Immediately he surged forward to finally kiss your lips. It was truly everything he thought it would be; you tasted sweeter than sugar itself and looked more beautiful than Aphrodite. You giggled against his lips; years of pushing down your feelings for Clark had finally risen to the surface, and it felt euphoric to have him.
Just as you felt his hips rock against you, only then did you pull back. You swore he whined at the loss of you. “When you’re sober,” you simply said, running your hand along his face. His skin was warm; you couldn’t tell if it was just his Kryptonian blood running through him or the Kryptonian drinks he had.
“Promise?” he asked, pupils blown wide like you were his drug. Lips pouted like a stuck-up child.
“I promise,” you replied back, reaching down to intertwine your pinky with his. He looked down at your intertwined fingers, eyes filled with ecstasy, but with how wide his pupils were, you thought he was on ecstasy.
His eyes starting to droop with sleep, you could see Clark’s head dropping onto his chest; you took the sign to slightly lift his head up with your hand so he could rest his head atop your own. “You better remember this in the morning, Clark,” you told him, nuzzling your head against his neck as you relished the weight of him leaning on you.
“Mmm, I will, I swearrr,” the slur in his voice sleepily returning as he dragged out the syllables of each word. With his last ounce of energy, you felt him pepper kisses on your head as his arms squeezed around your torso once more.
Just as you felt the warm embrace of sleep taking you under, a loud noise awoke you.
“CLARRRKKK,’ a voice you could only presume was Kara’s as you glanced to your window.
“Oh shit, sorry.” She immediately tried to compose herself after seeing you peeking out from under Clark’s chin.
Clark was still somehow sound asleep, his soft snores taking away from the awkward silence.
“That wimp – he only had, like, 2 and a half drinks before he snuck out of the bar,” she told you with a smile. “I’ll, uh, leave and hopefully meet you in a less awkward interaction, but Clark would not shut up about you.” Kara smiled, turning back to your window. “I’m happy he has you,” she said sweetly before climbing out your window to return home. You gave her a sleepy smile as you told her to visit again soon.
Just as you settled again, you heard Clark whisper. “Did I miss something?” His voice was quiet and croaky from sleep.
“No, no, just go back to sleep, baby,” you urged softly, unable to resist pecking his lips before going back to sleep. He gave you a small ‘okaayy’ before, once again, quickly falling into a soft slumber. You returned to the grip of sleep again, letting a smile sit on your face from what Kara told you.
You didn’t know what would happen in the morning, but you're sure you two would be able to guide each other; you've managed to be best friends for this long with these feelings simmering for even longer. Now you don’t have to wait to confess; you just have to look forward to the reality you've always wanted.
