"My Rose"
Summary: Clark finds you skinny-dipping in the pond, bringing wild roses he found while searching for you, and showering you with petals and affection. Pairing: Cowboy!clark x reader Tags/cw: domestic fluff, est. relationship, praise, clark kent is in love with his wife, pet names 649 wc more cowboy clark fics here
The late-summer woods behind the farm were your favorite place to disappear, which meant Clark had gotten really good at tracking you down when you wandered off. Still, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called your name into the trees like he wasn’t absolutely sure where you were.
“Sweetheart? You out here?” No answer. He smiled to himself. That meant yes.
The man could hear a corn kernel drop two counties away, but he played along anyway, boots crunching over leaves as he walked deeper down the trail. A soft breeze carried the faint, sweet smell of wild roses, and he spotted them growing in a sunny patch just off the path.
Clark paused. He plucked three. Then a fourth.
By the fifth, he was grinning like he’d been caught doing something mischievous. He gathered them carefully in one big hand, shaking his head as he murmured, “She’s gonna tease me for this.” But he didn’t stop picking.
A few steps later, the trees opened into your favorite hidden pond, quiet, glassy, sun-dappled. And as soon as he saw you, he forgot every word he was planning to say. You were floating lazily on your back, completely bare, sun gleaming off your skin, hair drifting in the water like a halo. You didn’t see him yet, humming softly to yourself as you kicked gently through the cool water.
Clark exhaled, soft and hopelessly in love. Then he cleared his throat. Loudly. You yelped, splashing upright and crossing your arms over your chest even though the water was already hiding most of you. “Clark Kent! Don’t you know how to make noise when you walk?”
He bit back a smile. “Pretty sure I did.”
“You didn’t.”
“You were hummin’ awful loud, darlin’. Real distracted.”
You narrowed your eyes playfully. “What are you doing out here?”
“Lookin’ for you.” He held up the wild roses in explanation. “And I brought somethin’.”
Your expression softened instantly. “You picked those for me?”
“Course I did.” He dropped to a crouch at the water’s edge. “C’mere.”
You swam closer until he could touch you, his large hand brushing gently along your damp cheek. Then, one by one, he plucked the petals from the roses and let them flutter down into the pond around you. The water rippled as the pink petals floated across the surface, catching in your hair, brushing your shoulders, circling you like you were some kind of lake goddess he’d accidentally stumbled upon.
You laughed, soft, breathy, delighted. “Clark… what on earth are you doing?”
“Decoratin’,” he said simply. “Figured my girl deserved somethin’ pretty.”
You flicked a little splash at him. “You’re ridiculous.”
He flicked one right back. “And you’re beautiful.”
“Clark…”
He leaned in a little, bracing a hand on the grass to keep from tumbling forward into the pond. “What? Can’t tell my wife she looks like a dream floatin’ around in flower petals?”
Your giggles were pure sunlight. “You’re gonna make me all flustered.”
“That’s the plan.” He nudged another handful of petals toward you with his fingers. “Now turn around. Let me get some in your hair.”
You rolled your eyes but obeyed, spinning gently in the water. Clark reached in, careful and reverent, letting the petals drift into your hair. He placed them however they landed best, never forcing, just guiding them with gentle fingertips and an adoring little smile. “There,” he murmured, admiring his work. “My rose.”
You turned back toward him, cheeks warm, eyes soft. “You comin’ in?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
He tossed his hat aside, kicked off his boots, and joined you, and the water filled with roses, laughter, splashes, and Clark’s arms slipping around you as naturally as breathing. And in the middle of the quiet pond, wrapped in his warmth and wildflower petals, you decided there wasn’t a sweeter place in the whole world to be found.
