#dimples

Pairing: Clark Kent x reader Word count: 705

Summary: You bump into your ex while grocery shopping with Clark. He swoops in with a surprise kiss, a calm, confident “boyfriend” act that’s so convincing it leaves you breathless.

Tags: confident!Clark

=================================

“Can I walk you home?” Clark asks as I gather my things from my desk.

“Not unless you wanna go grocery shopping too. I have nothing left in my fridge,” I reply, my tone exhausted from looking at my screen all day.

“I’ll join, I need cereal.” He says with a sweet smile. We leave the Daily Planet together and talk about the leads we’re chasing.

We arrive at the grocery store and I grab a cart setting my bag in it.

“I’m gonna run to the back and grab some milk,” he says and walks ahead of me.

I’m in the pasta aisle debating between penne and farfalle when I hear it:

“Wow. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I freeze. That voice. That smug, self-satisfied voice I used to think was charming but now makes me want to throw a can of chickpeas.

I turn slowly.

Yep. Him. The ex. Loafer-wearing, ghosting-after-nine-months, “I’m just not in a place to give you what you deserve” him.

I grip the box of pasta like it’s a weapon.

“Hey,” I say, trying for casual. “Small city.”

He gives me a once-over. “You look good. Different. Still shopping for your ‘sad girl meal prep’ Sundays?”

I blink. Is he serious?

“Just grabbing groceries after work,” I say flatly.

He steps closer. Too close.

“Well, it’s nice to see you. We should—”

Then I feel it. A hand, warm and steady, sliding around my waist like it belongs there. A familiar scent clean, soft, like cedar and sunshine. And then Lips, soft sweet lips. Clark’s lips.

On my lips. A soft, deliberate kiss that shuts everything down in my brain.

“Hey, babe,” he says against my skin, his voice lower than usual. Calmer. Steady. “Sorry I took so long, but they did have your oat milk in stock.”

I blink up at him.

This is not dorky Clark who tripped on a filing cabinet This Clark is tall, solid, unbothered. His arm stays around me like he means it. He turns to my ex like they’ve met before and Clark already won.

“Oh,” my ex says, clearly thrown. “I didn’t realize you were…”

Clark smiles. Not his usual sheepish smile. This one’s controlled. Confident.

“Clark,” he says, holding out a hand.

There’s a pause before the walking red flag shakes it.

“Didn’t know she was seeing anyone.”

Clark’s smile grows just a little sharper. “Yeah, well. I tend to keep a low profile until I need to show up.”

My knees go slightly weak.

My ex looks at me like he’s trying to figure something out. “This new?”

Clark answers before I can. “That’s none of your business.” I glance up at him. He’s still watching the guy slightly threatening, not so much aggressive. Just… sure. Solid.

And suddenly, I feel like I’m watching someone I’ve never seen before.

“I was just saying hi,” my ex mutters, backing away slightly.

“Well hi,” Clark says, before turning toward me fully, brushing hair from my face, “You want carbonara tonight or that spicy pesto you like?”

I can’t even remember how to spell carbonara right now.

My ex says something else, but I don’t hear it. Because Clark’s gaze is on me now. Steady. Unflinching. And when the ex finally walks away, Clark doesn’t move his hand.

I stare at him. “What… was that?”

He shrugs. “You looked uncomfortable. I heard him and I came over.”

“You kissed me.”

“I figured it would sell the story.” He says with a breathless laugh.

“It sold something, alright.”

He’s quiet for a second. Then he steps back slightly, his hand sliding away.

But his voice, still low, still smooth, says, “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.”

I exhale, chest tight. “Where have you been hiding?”

He gives me a small smile. “I just needed the right moment, I guess.” I’m at a loss for words. My lips were still buzzing from the kiss and my head spinning from the whole situation. “Soooo carbonara or spicy pesto?” He asks with a grin. I want to answer with “you” but I’m still processing.

“You’re cooking for me?” I question raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he casually says. “Let’s do this for real.”

poly!muraders x reader

Summary : You gave James, Remus, and Sirius everything, but you were always the option, never the choice. One overheard “Y/N’s too clingy” broke you. You faded with excuses until they noticed, and the fight was messy—accusations, heartbreak, and flinches where there used to be love. Warning : ⚠️ tw: angst, emotional neglect, overheard insult, messy arguments, heartbreak, toxic relationship vibes, reader pulling away, comfort ending w/c : 1460 a/n : lowkey tied between a happy ending or a deep heartbreak angsty one... part Main masterlist || Navigation

You’d never thought love could be something you worked at alone.

When you first started dating James, Sirius, and Remus, it had felt like magic — the kind of fairytale you only heard whispered about in corridors, where three boys loved you back with the same fever you loved them. And you did love them — wholly, recklessly, with every bone in your body.

You learned their tea preferences, slipped chocolate frogs into Remus’s bag when exam week was heavy, snuck Honeydukes liquorice wands into Sirius’s pockets just to watch him smirk, and brought James fresh quills when his broke mid-practice. You gave your time, your heart, your soul. Your hands always reached for theirs; your words were always soft with affection. You were their cheerleader, their safe place, their constant.

But constants are easy to take for granted.

The signs were subtle at first — their conversations with you mostly happening in empty corridors, never when the others were around. The way your name only left their lips when they needed something. Yes, they cuddled. Yes, they gave you gifts. But there was always a strange… gap. As if the warmth never quite reached their eyes.

You told yourself you were imagining it. That love was still there, just quieter.

Then came that night.

It was late — the Gryffindor common room was winding down, a soft golden haze from the fireplace flickering over the couches. You’d decided to pop upstairs, say goodnight before heading to your dorm. The boys’ laughter filtered down the staircase to the seventh-year dorms, warm and familiar.

You padded up the steps, quiet as you always were when you didn’t want to interrupt their conversations.

And then you heard it.

“Yeah, Y/N’s too clingy,” Sirius’s voice — light, teasing, like it was a harmless joke. “She means well, mate,” James replied, but there was no fire in his tone, just something almost… dismissive. Remus chuckled low. “Still. Bit much sometimes.”

The words were soft, not cruel — but they hit you like a Bludger to the chest.

Something inside you cracked.

You didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t want them to hear the sound of your world caving in. And then you turned, quiet and fast, retreating down the stairs, across the common room, into the safety of your dorm before the tears could break free.

That night, you didn’t sleep.

It didn’t happen in one day.

It happened in fragments.

The first time you skipped meeting them after class, you’d told yourself it was harmless — a one-off. You walked straight past the Transfiguration corridor where you usually leaned against the wall, waiting for their laughter to spill out the classroom door. Instead, you’d gone to the library, curling up in the farthest corner where no one would think to look.

The next morning, you didn’t sit with them for breakfast. “Early tutoring session,” you mumbled to Lily when she asked, keeping your head down as you walked past their table. You could feel Sirius’s eyes following you — the weight of them heavy on your shoulders — but you didn’t turn around.

It became a pattern.

No more lunch runs with James, because you “already ate.” No more sneaking into the boys’ dorm to drop off chocolate for Remus, because you “couldn’t risk getting caught.” No more sitting in Sirius’s lap during Quidditch celebrations, because “you promised Marlene you’d study together.”

Every time they reached out, you slipped through their fingers like smoke.

You started timing your comings and goings — leaving the common room just before they came in, ducking into classrooms when you heard their voices in the hallway. It wasn’t that you stopped caring. You still knew exactly how Remus took his tea, still noticed the scuff on James’s glasses, still caught the way Sirius rubbed the back of his neck when he was nervous. You just… stopped acting on it.

If they noticed — and they did — they didn’t say anything at first.

James would call after you in the corridor, “Oi, love! Walking with us?” And you’d smile tight. “Can’t, sorry. Prefect duty.” (You weren’t on duty.)

Sirius would catch your wrist in the common room, pulling you toward the couch. “Come on, sit with me.” “Can’t. I promised Mary I’d help her with Arithmancy.” (Mary was in the library, alone.)

Remus would appear at your elbow during dinner. “Haven’t seen you all day.” “I’ve been busy.” (You hadn’t.)

It became a quiet ache, like a bruise they kept pressing without meaning to.

The common room was nearly empty — just the crackle of the fire and the muffled chatter of a few first years. You were curled up in an armchair, a book open in your lap though you’d been on the same page for twenty minutes. The boys came in together, laughing about something James had said.

“Hey,” James said, crossing to you with that easy grin. “We’re heading to the kitchens. Come?”

You shook your head, eyes on your book. “Not hungry.”

Sirius frowned, dropping into the seat next to yours. “You’re always hungry for kitchen runs.”

“Not tonight.”

Remus’s gaze sharpened. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” you said, too quickly. You closed your book and stood. “I’m going to bed.”

You didn’t wait for them to reply.

It happened on a rainy Tuesday. Classes had ended early, and the Gryffindor common room was nearly empty. You were curled in an armchair by the fire when the door slammed behind you.

You looked up — all three of them stood there, damp from the rain, eyes locked on you.

James’s jaw was tight. “Alright. What the hell is going on?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You’ve been avoiding us for weeks,” Sirius said, voice sharper than you’d heard in a long time. “Don’t play dumb.”

Remus’s tone was low, but there was an edge to it. “If you don’t want to be with us anymore, you could just say so instead of… whatever this is.”

Your stomach twisted. “I never said I didn’t want to be with you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” James shot back. “You don’t wait for us after class, you skip meals, you don’t even talk to us unless we corner you like this.”

Sirius crossed his arms. “It’s like you’re punishing us for something we didn’t do.”

The laugh that left your mouth was bitter. “Didn’t do? Are you serious—”

“Deadly,” Sirius bit back, but his voice cracked just enough to betray the emotion beneath it.

You set your book down, slow and deliberate. “You want to know why I’ve been pulling away? Why I’ve been busy and ‘avoiding you’?”

Remus tilted his head, cautious. “We’re listening.”

“Because I got tired,” you said, voice trembling despite your control. “Tired of giving you everything — my time, my heart, my energy — and realising I was never really… chosen.”

James frowned. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you shot back. “You talk to me when it’s easy, when no one else is around. You hold me in private, but you never make me feel like I’m someone you want. I’m there when you need something. Always the option, never the choice.”

Sirius stepped forward instinctively, reaching for your arm.

You flinched.

It was small, but all three of them noticed. Sirius froze, hand dropping instantly. James’s eyes widened, guilt flooding his face. Remus went still.

Your voice was quieter now, but each word landed like a stone. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to overhear the people you love most call you clingy? To hear them laugh about it?”

They went silent.

Sirius’s expression cracked. “You heard that?”

“I heard it,” you said, steady but raw. “And it broke something I didn’t know could break.”

James tried to step closer. “We didn’t mean—”

“But you said it,” you cut in, a tear finally slipping free. “You said it, and you meant it enough to say it to each other. And maybe it was a joke to you, but to me? It was proof. Proof I’m too much for you, except when I’m not enough.”

Remus’s voice was hoarse. “So what are you saying?”

You swallowed, holding his gaze even as it made your chest ache. “I’m saying I can’t keep giving my heart to people who don’t see the weight of it. I think… we need space.”

The words hit like a curse. James’s mouth opened, then closed again. Sirius’s jaw clenched as he looked away. Remus’s shoulders slumped like the air had been knocked out of him.

This y'all's babygirl? Some art for an upcoming serirei fic I have cooking on ao3!!!!

This is what happens when you need money desperately.