#perpetuallynerdynymph

You wake up next to Clark in his childhood bedroom, but something sounds different

Warnings/tags: fluff, Clark is completely obsessed with reader, sleepy!clark, reader knows Clark is Superman, established relationship

Writers note: this literally just popped into my brain an hour before I need to go to work so I apologise for any errors (also, can you tell I love writing Clark with a southern accent)

Masterlist here

Clark had finally found the time to visit Smallville, and you had finally gone with him. In the year and a bit that you've been together, life had gotten so busy. Clark still tried to visit home when he could, but often times had to leave you back in Metropolis.

But this time, you'd both booked some time off of work and had travelled down to Kansas together. You'd met Martha and Jonathan before when they travelled up to the city and they'd completely showered you with love. So much so that you and Martha had developed a routine of sharing recipes over the phone every few weeks, so you were excited to spend some time with them in Smallville and get to know them more.

When you first got there, you were taken aback by how adorable Clark's childhood room looks. His various trophies and books from school still stand exactly where you imagined they were when he first moved out, and his band posters were adorably dorky. You didn't anticipate how small the best would be though.

Sharing a king bed back in the city was snug enough with your 6'4 kryptonian boyfriend, but a double bed was even more of a struggle. You'd spent the night practically on top of Clark trying to fit comfortably with limited space. Clark didn't mind at all. In fact, he slept like a baby. The combination of his childhood bed and his girlfriend cuddled so closely was perfect to him. You managed to get enough sleep, but you'd still considered grabbing some cushions from the couch to create a makeshift floor bed for the rest of the trip.

Truthfully, you'd never seen Clark sleep so deeply. He was usually awake before you and already reading a newspaper or a book with an arm around you by the time you stirred. Maybe his brain was just constantly wired thinking of new articles, or maybe he was always on guard, waiting to be needed for his Superman duties. It was a nice surprise to see him so relaxed. You almost didn't care how much sleep you'd get if it meant Clark could be comfortable.

You wake up with Clark in your arms. The second night had been much more successful and you'd found a position that was comfortable for you both. Plus, although he'd never admit it out loud, Clark did love being the little spoon.

You'd stay still, not wanting to stir him awake prematurely. Instead, you grab the high school yearbook that's sat on his bedside table for god knows how many years. You flick through the pages, finding Clark on many of them. He's featured for his various sports teams, awards, and competitions he participated in. In every group photo, he towers over all of his peers. It makes you chuckle that the massive man lying on your chest was once an equally tall, dorky yet overachieving teenager. After a few minutes, you feel him beginning to stir. You place the book back on the table, and stroke the dark curls that have fallen in front of his forehead in his sleep.

"Morning, baby," you say softly, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

He clears his throat.

"Mornin' darlin'," he says, his voice low and gravelly like you've never heard before. His southern drawl escaping in a way it never does in the city. You're surprised by the sudden shift in his voice. He's always had a low voice, honestly it's something you love. But this is something different.

"Honey, are you feeling ok? Do you need a cough drop?" you ask, unsure of where this voice has come from but also failing to disguise how much you're enjoying it. He lets out a low chuckle.

"No, darlin' I'm fine. Just tired still," he says, his voice still deep.

"You just sound.... different. That's all," you respond. He chuckles again.

"Sounds to me like you're enjoying it," he says playfully. You don't respond. Instead you silently blush. He opens his eyes and looks up at your face, covered in pink. He laughs to himself before crawling out of bed.

He takes a sip of water from the glass on the table, stretches his arms, and opens the curtains. You watch him quietly, admiring him.

"What do you wanna do today, honey?" he says, his voice staying to return to normal, but still retaining a hint of his accent. You pout.

"Awh, I was liking the sleepy voice," you say, faking upset.

I'm here, right here.

Ladies First

Clark always makes sure you're in front of him; protected, where he can see you. But when you get shoved on the plane, your usually mild mannered boyfriend won't stand for it.

Warnings/tags: established relationship, protective!clark, clark is a plane nerd, aggressive jerk man (?), swearing

Writer's note: thanks for the suggestion! so sorry this happened, people can be so rude on planes (funny story, i once had an full cup of orange juice spilled on me because the guy in front reclined all the way back with full force, lol) this is my first fic for a while so i'm a bit rusty, hope you still enjoy!

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist here

You always found it funny how insistent Clark is about travelling by plane for vacations. It's true that there's really no other to get far away enough from the city, unless you want to be stuck in the infamous Metropolis traffic for hours on end, but he's always seemed to love it.

Theres something about irony of the Kyrptonian man of steel, who could get to your destination in half the time any plane could, loving a good long haul flight. Maybe it's from his Pa; he's mentioned fond memories of him and Jonathan laying in the Smallville fields, looking up at the sky and counting how many birds and planes fly past.

Or maybe it's from how much time he spends in the air. He swears the FlightRadar app on his phone is purely for safety reasons; he needs to know what might be in his path when he's flying to the Fortress. But you often catch him staring out your bedroom window, phone in hand, muttering "that's a Boeing 737" to himself. Either way, he'll find any reason to get on an aircraft.

This time, Clark had organised the whole vacation solo. You have no clue where you were going or what you were doing until you got to the airport. Clark even packed your clothes for you so you wouldn't get any clues.

Once you got to the airport, he finally let it slip; you're going to Paris. You'd always wanted to experience the food, the art, the culture, and practice your French. Plus an 8 hour flight wasn't exactly a downside in Clark's eyes. He was excited to experience what flying such a far distance is like for most people.

The first few hours of the flight were spent watching Clark scarf down the airplane food, scroll through the entertainment system, and him holding your hand as you hit pockets of turbulence. The one thing he'd underestimated was just how tired he'd be. Clark is basically immune to jet lag, lucky man, but he didn't even try to catch a wink, he wanted to enjoy the full experience. You tried to get comfortable, but an economy seat on a long haul flight isn't exactly anyone's preference.

Finally, you touch down on the tarmac. It's already daylight again when you arrive, like you've skipped the entire night. You both feel groggy, delirious, and can only think about the hotel bed that awaits you.

You've lucked out with your seats. Sure they're just regular economy, but they're right at the front of the section. At least you won't be at the back of the customs line.

The seatbelt sign turns off and Clark gets up to grab the bags overhead. You gather your smaller items together and wait patiently behind Clark for the cabin doors to open and the line to start moving.

He tries to usher you in front of him but with everyone's suitcases strewn about, there's no room. Clark always likes to see where you are. It's not an overprotective thing, he just wants to protect you. Given how huge he is, he knows how easy it is to get lost behind him. So he'll always make sure you're walking in front. Unfortunately, he'll have to wait this time.

He settles for checking back every few seconds to make sure you're still ok. No doubt, as soon as you're off the plane he'll guide you in front of him again.

Finally, you hear the shuffling of feet towards the front of the plane and see people staying starting to move. You and Clark are already in the aisle with only one or two people between you and the divider to the next cabin. You're perfect situated for an easy departure from the plane.

Clark starts to move, not before checking you're still behind him, and begins following the line out of the plane. He's wheeling the suitcases behind him but you're staying as close as possible.

You begin to take a step to follow him when you feel a sharp pain on your foot and feel yourself falling onto one of the seats. You look up and see man, no taller than yourself, standing where you were moments ago. He's pulling his bags out of the row behind where you and Clark had been sitting, completely oblivious to what's just happened. You turn and see Clark a few paces ahead, and get back up to try and follow behind.

You're almost completely blocked in by his bags and general lack of space. You're not one for confrontation but this is insane.

"Excuse me," you say. "Would you mind letting me past? You kind of pushed me out the way and I need to follow my boyfriend."

He ignores you and carries on unloading his various bags into the aisle, holding everyone up.

"Excuse me, sir. Please let me past," you say, slightly more stern.

"Geez, lady. Give me a second. Patience is a virtue, you know?" he says, with a scowl.

You try to step over his bags to get past, when he throws one of his bags onto the floor, trapping your foot with it. It's heavy. Your already stood-on foot hurts even worse now. You're pissed.

You can't help but yelp in pain. Of course, the man still ignores you. You're tired, in pain, and desperate to just get off the plane. So you try to gently move the bags out of the aisle, just enough to squeeze past.

He sees what you're doing and immediately shoves the bags back, blocking you into the row again.

"I said, you can wait," he says, raising his voice. People are staring.

A flight attendant starts walking over.

"Sir, please don't hold up the line. If you need assistance we're more than happy to help," she says, looking at you and starting to move the bags.

"No," he snaps. "I'm almost done. She can wait."

You hate confrontation and you're slightly intimidated by him now. So you resign yourself to staying in the row until he gets his bags and leaves. The flight attendant is equally defeated from a long flight and simply turns and leaves. You accept the fact that you're gonna have to navigate your way back to Clark once you're off the plane, and just hope he's waiting on the jet bridge.

Until you see him coming down the aisle. Clark pushes the man's bags back into his row, grabs your hand and pulls you into the aisle. He ushers you forward into the gap between the seats and the bathrooms.

"What the fuck?" the man shouts, staring at his bags. "Where do you get off on touching my stuff."

"Apologise to her," Clark says, arms folded. His voice is low; he doesn't need to shout to be intimidating. He towers over the man, in both height and stature. The confidence starts to drain from the man's face.

"I don't have anything to apologise for. It's not my fault she has no patience," he says.

"You shoved her, crushed her foot twice, and yelled at her for just trying to get past. Clearly it's not her that has no patience," Clark says. He's scarily calm.

He picks up the rest of the bags blocking the aisle and places them back in the row, allowing people to start walking past. The man freaks out on Clark.

"You can't just touch my stuff, I have every right to take my time. Just because your girlfriend feels like being a bitch doesn't mean she's any more important than me," the man says. He sounds more like a petulant child than a grown man.

Clark says nothing. He's clearly registered that it's no use arguing with this guy. He wants nothing more than to say something to this guy; no one calls his girlfriend a bitch. You can see the restraint on his face.

Instead he turns to you, grabs the bags you're holding, and ushers you to start walking off the plane. He doesn't take his eyes off you the whole time you're walking.

He tells you to wait on the jet bridge while he talks to the flight attendant. You hear him explain everything along with a few midwestern apologies thrown in there. He returns from the plane, grabs your hand and continues down the jet bridge, making sure you're still in sight the whole time.

Once you're finally in the airport, you see his him relax.

"Are you ok, baby? I'm sorry you were behind me, I was already stuck near the front of the plane by the time I heard what was going down," he say, hand on your cheek. "Is your foot ok?"

"I'm fine, foot's a bit sore but I'm unscathed otherwise," you joke. "What a jerk though. But honestly I'm so tired I'm only thinking about that bed at the hotel."

He laughs. He grabs your waist and ushers you forward towards the customs line.

Hands off (Drabble)

Clark tries to take you home after a night out with the Daily Planet girls, but in your drunken haze, you don't recognise him.

Warnings/tags: alcohol consumption, drunk, Clark takes care of you

Masterlist here

Cat and Lois had finally convinced you to join them on a night out. You'd never been one to drink much, and bars aren't really your scene, but this time practically the whole office was heading to the local bar. It'd been so long since you and the girls had properly hung out together, it'd be rude to say no.

Plus with Clark there, you felt safe to let loose and have a drink or two, knowing your kryptonian boyfriend would be sober no matter how much he drank.

So after a drink or two.... or four.... and a round of shots, it's safe to say you're pretty wasted. Clark, being the protective but respectful boyfriend he is, has kept a comfortable distance all night. Close enough to keep an eye on you but no so close that you feel suffocated. But at this point, he was ready to step in.

Lois and Cat can handle their drink much better than you can, although at this point they're beyond tipsy, but nowhere near your level. Your head feels dizzy, your vision is blurring and you feel all disorientated. They've headed home by now, leaving Clark to take you with him and nurse you back to sobriety.

A glass of water appears before you. You drink it all but makes little difference. Eventually your vision focuses enough to see the hand the glass is attached to. A guy, a cute guy. But you have a boyfriend (who, unbeknownst to you, is the cute guy in front of you).

The conversation goes something like this:

"Ok darlin' that's enough for you. Let's get you home before you empty your stomach," Clark says.

"Oh, no thank you sir. I have a boyfriend," you say sternly, brows furrowed at the 'stranger before you'.

"Honey, it's me. Clark," he says, choking back laughter.

"No means no, mister. Thank you for the drink but I'm not interested," you say, leaning away from him.

He pauses. He knows how stubborn you are, and in your drunken state, there's no way you'll be coming with him of your own free will. So he decides to be smart about it.

"I'm sorry, madam. I must've mistaken you for someone else. How about I buy you a drink to make up for it, then I'll leave you be?" he says, brow cocked in amusement.

You pout and narrow your eyes, scoping out the man in front of you. Even with the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, you can tell he's not the creep kind.

"I suppose that would be ok," you say, still giving him the side eye.

He orders a martini, but mouths 'water' to the bartender when you're turned away. You down your drink in one go, unaware of Clark's plan.

After a minute of the water settling in your stomach, your haze begins to clear. You're still incredibly drunk but at least you now recognise the man in front of you.

"Clark!" you say, drunkenly throwing your arms around him. "Where have you been? This guy tried to take me home with him. I said no but he ordered me a drink, let me tell you this was the crappiest martini I've ever had."

"Really? That guy sounds like a real piece of work, why don't we head home and you can tell me all about it?" he says, the smug tone of his voice going completely over your head.

You grab his hand, swinging it with yours, like two kids on the playground, as you walk through the doors to head home.

Friend of a Friend

You and Lois have been friends since college, but when Clark sees you when you come to visit the Daily Planet, you're both desperate to meet each other

Warnings/tags: fluff, early romance, awkward!clark, eventually flirty!clark, kiss, mutual pining and admiration, Lois and Jimmy scheme to get you together

Word count: 4.1k

Writer's note: thanks for the suggestion! I changed the plot slightly to be Lois' friend and both Clark and reader having some prior knowledge of each other but never met, hope you still enjoy :)

Masterlist here

It's been a while since you've seen Lois. You roomed together in college and both majored in Journalism, so you quickly became fast friends. Other people in the class didn't understand your friendship; you were both so competitive and driven to be the first to get a good story that it didn't make sense for you to be friends. But you both admired each other's strengths, helped each other work on weaknesses, and looked over each other's stories.

It also helped knowing that Lois had dreams of being a big city reporter. She thrived in the hustle and bustle, whereas you had preferred working for independent outlets and freelancing so you could be closer to home.

But in the years since college, you'd found it harder to stay in touch regularly. Instead, you'd found a rhythm of texting every week or so about each other's latest articles. You loved reading Lois' coverage of real-world issues in the big city, and she loved how grounded and personal your stories were. Eventually, you got curious about the other journalists at the Daily Planet and stumbled across Clark Kent. His coverage of Superman completely fascinated you, and he quickly became a journalist you looked up to. You'd text Lois about her articles, but you started asking about Clark.

It almost became like a silly celebrity crush; you had no idea what he looked like or anything about him, really, besides that he was a damn good writer. She would make fun of you for your fan girling, texting "he's cute, you'd like him ;)". The Clark she knew was just the oversized dork that sat across from her every day, so she took joy in hearing you gush about his writing. She subtly dropped your name to Clark at work, sending him articles of yours that tugged on his farmboy heartstrings. He started asking more about you, and read every one of your articles. Lois didn't tell either of you about your mutual admiration; instead, she just waited until the day you two could meet, which came a lot sooner than she anticipated.

You finally reach the Daily Planet after almost an hour of wandering lost through the streets of Metropolis, with Google Maps as a useless companion. You had to miss Lois' birthday this year, so to make it up to her, you wanted to surprise her. Plus, you'd been considering a change of pace from small-town journalism, and thought Metropolis might be a good starting point to scope out. So here you are, in the big city with her favourite cake in hand.

You walk up to the reception desk and give your name. The receptionist gives you directions to Lois' desk and buzzes you in. The bullpen is huge. You almost drop the cake three separate times, trying to avoid bumping into someone. You scan the room looking for your friend when your eyes lock on someone else. A guy.

His suit looks two sizes too big for him, but you can tell how broad he is underneath it. His dark curls frame his forehead, almost reaching down to the top of his glasses. He's super cute. And he's looking directly at you. His eyes are wide, and his cheeks are flushed with pink. You flash a shy smile, just as he remembers himself. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and refocuses his gaze on his computer. Just then, you hear a familiar voice calling your name. You turn and see your dear friend.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were working on the farmer's strike story?" she says before getting interrupted.

"Lois, I didn't think you had friends outside of the bullpen. It's actually kinda nice seeing you act like a girl for once," a man calls out from a desk across the room.

"Shut up, Steve," she shouts back before turning her attention back to you.

"It's already live. I had a few days off and I felt so bad I couldn't come for your birthday so I thought I'd surprise you. I stopped to get that cake you like and everything," you say, holding out the cake towards here.

"Oh my god, you amazing woman. You came just in time, I'm just about to start my lunch break. I'll show you where the break room is and come and meet you in 5? I'll grab some forks on the way," she says, guiding you down the hall.

The break room is empty besides the odd person coming in to refill their coffee or grab some water. You find a seat, place the cake on the table, and wait patiently for Lois to return. You can just about see her desk from where you're sat, and you see that same cute guy you smiled at earlier chatting with her. You try not to stare, but you honestly can't help it. His eyes catch yours again as he walks back to his desk. You both flash each other a shy smile again before he sits down.

"Ok, two forks and some napkins," Lois says as she comes into the break room. "Can I grab you a coffee?"

"Your version of coffee is sugar sludge, I think I'll pass, Lo," you laugh.

"So, how long are you here for? I'd love to show you around and introduce you to everyone if you're here for long enough," she asks.

"Well, I took a few days off work, so with the weekend I'm here for just over a week. I'm staying in an apartment a few blocks away," you reply.

"That's amazing. You need to hang out with us all while you're here. But why are you here for so long? I thought you'd be itching to get back already," she says.

"I wanted to get to know the city. Truthfully, I've been looking for a change of pace and I thought where better to start looking first?" you say. You're unsure how she'd react to knowing you're thinking of moving here. You don't want to encroach on her territory, but the stories that come out of Metropolis are like nothing you've ever seen.

"Are you kidding? That would be amazing. You know, I overheard Perry talking about looking for new talent, and I think you'd be perfect. He said we need a personal touch somewhere. So how about I show you around and you get to know everyone and if you really like it here, I'll put a good word in for you?" she says enthusiastically.

"That would be incredible, Lo. You're sure you're ok with it? I mean I'd hate to encroach on your territory," you say, digging your fork into the cake.

"Of course. I'd love to have you closer. Plus our styles are so different it's not like we'd be competing like in college," she says.

You almost finish the whole cake between you and catch up about the last few months since you'd last seen each other. You glance up and see the guy again walking to the printer.

"Lo, who's that?" you ask in a hushed tone, worried he'll hear you.

"I was waiting to see if you'd ask. Who do you think that is?" she says with a smirk.

You're confused what she means. Why would you know who he is, you don't know anyone here besides her.

Wait. Shit.

"Is that Clark Kent? Like, Superman reporter Clark Kent? Oh my god I've been making eyes at him like an idiot, shit. That's Clark Kent?" you start to ramble, turning red. She starts laughing at you.

"My break is over in ten, but I could introduce you two before I walk you out?" she says with a smile.

"Oh god no, could you imagine? I've already embarrassed myself enough in front of him and I haven't even said a word to him," you say.

"C'mon, you haven't even met him. He's not this intimidating, all-knowing god of a journalist. He's the biggest, friendliest dork ever. You'd love him," she says.

"Maybe another time, Lo," you say.

"Ok fine, but at least come by my desk so you can see what it's like here. I'll let you have a sneak peek at my next article," she says. You oblige and box up the rest of her cake, putting it into the break room fridge for her to finish later. She walks you over to her desk, and you look at all the papers and her pile of coffee mugs.

You try to ignore the eyes you can feel on you as she's showing you her unfinished articles, until you feel a hand on your back. You turn and see another guy behind you.

"So, you must be the friend Lois has been talking about. Jimmy Olson, photojournalist," he says, extending a hand. You shake it and introduce yourself.

"Jimmy, if you're here to try and flirt with my friend, you should go back to your desk," Lois says without looking up from her computer screen.

"Lois, how low do you think of me? Actually, I noticed my friend over there taking a keen interest in each other, do you know him?" he asks, pointing at Clark, who swiftly looks away when he sees all of your eyes on him.

"Um, no. Sure, I've read some of his stuff but, no, we don't know each other," you say, hoping your cheeks aren't turning red again.

"Some of his stuff. She's Clark's biggest fan, she's read every article" Lois jokes.

You stare daggers at the back of her head.

"Oh really, why don't I call him over and you can meet him?" Jimmy says, about to gesture over to Clark.

"No, that's ok," you blurt out before he can finish. "I'm leaving now, but maybe another time."

"Your loss," he says before walking back to his desk.

Lois laughs and walks you back towards the entrance to the bullpen. You promise to go out with her tomorrow night after work and give her a hug. Over her shoulder, you see Jimmy, now sat at Clark's desk, pointing over towards you. Embarassment sets in and you quickly turn to leave.

"That's her?" Clark says.

"Yes indeed, my friend. She's cute. And I think you know that too," Jimmy says.

"What makes you say that?" Clark asks with a furrowed brow.

"You've been practically staring holes into her head for the last hour," Jimmy says. "You have her articles up on your screen constantly. You should make a move."

Clark had read all of your articles and became something of a fan, just as you had to him. But he didn't connect the dots that Lois' beautiful friend from out of town was the same journalist he'd been reading every day.

"Ok, I will admit, she is very beautiful. And she's certainly a darn good journalist. But she's just left, so it's not like I can do anything about it now," Clark says.

"Well, I heard she's in town for a few days. And she might be moving to Metropolis if all goes well. You could do with a cute woman 'friend', Clark" Jimmy says with a wink. Lois' ears prick up as she's walking back over towards her desk.

"Jimmy, are you still talking about my friend? You're not gonna get in her pants," Lois says, coming over to join them.

"Seriously, Lois, I'm not a pervert. Actually, Clark was just saying how cute she is, weren't you, Clark?" Jimmy says, nudging his shoulder.

"Well, not in so many words but..." Clark says awkwardly, his eyes fixated on his screen.

"She'd kill me for telling you this but she's a fan of your work, Clark. Like, a huge fan. She's read all your articles and really admires your stuff," Lois says.

"Really?" Clark asks, eyes darting up from his computer.

"Yes, you have this weird mutual admiration thing going on. It's actually pretty cute how you found each other's work. I think you'd get along with her," she says. He pauses for a moment, clearly debating if he should ask the question that's on the tip of his tongue. But he decides to go for it.

"Lois, could you introduce us? I'd really love to meet her. Do you think she'd be ok with that?" Clark asks.

"I can definitely ask her. I'll shoot her a text," Lois says.

"No, no, no." Jimmy says. "You can't just text her. How un-romantic is that?"

"Well, that wasn't exactly my intention, I just want to pick her brain about her writing-" Clark begins to say, his cheeks glowing red.

"Shut it, loverboy." Jimmy interrupts, pulling Lois away towards her desk. "Lois, c'mon you know they'll freak out if you tell them in advance. How about the four of us go out for drinks and they can just 'happen' to meet each other?"

"You might be right, for once. We have plans to go out tomorrow night, you and Clark can meet us there at 8." she says, walking back to her desk with a scheming smile on her face.

"The plan's gonna work I'm telling you," Jimmy shouts as she walks away. "Wait, what do you mean 'for once'?"

Lois sent you the address of her favourite bar and told you to be ready by 7:30. She implied that some of her work friends might be there, which of course means you're now extremely nervous. She didn't directly mention Clark, but of course you're wondering if he'll show up.

So, you put on a nice dress and do your makeup and hair; not too over the top for the bar, but just enough to make you feel confident. Lois knocks on the door exactly on time and you walk side by side down the street. You look up at the towering skyscrapers and take in the sounds of the city. You're starting to really love it and can see yourself making a life for yourself here.

"So, Lo, you said some of your work friends might come out tonight. Do you think anyone I met yesterday will make an appearance? You've got some characters in the bullpen," you say casually. You try to not make it seem like you're asking about Clark, but you and Lois both know what you're really saying. Still, she doesn't let on.

"Well, Steve is usually there. Stay away from him. He acts friendly enough at first but it's all a ploy to get in your pants. I think Jimmy said he might come down as well. He comes out most Fridays," she says, dancing around the answer she knows you really want, baiting you to directly ask.

"Noted. I like Jimmy, he seems cool. What about Clark?" you ask, again trying and failing to seem casual. Lois gives you a look.

"I'm not sure if Clark will be there. He's not a big drinker so he usually declines our invitations. But you never know, maybe Jimmy will manage to drag him out tonight," she says. There's a tone to her voice that you can't quite place. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," you lie. "Just curious." She flashes you a knowing smile as you walk into the bar.

You find a booth and slide into the seat as Lois walks up to the bar to order for you both. The bar is pretty busy, so you expect to be waiting for her a while. You sit mindlessly scrolling on your phone before you look up and see the top of a very tall man walk through the doors. The booth is obscuring his face but you have a feeling you recognise those dark curls. You panic and return to your phone, not realising you're pretending to scroll through your contacts list. You're desparately trying to go unnoticed out of sheer nervousness. If Lois was here, you wouldn't feel so panicked, but you're by yourself and completely unprepared. Just as you're trying to make yourself as invisible as possible, you hear someone calling your name. You look up and see Jimmy walking towards you, with Clark towering behind him. He's wearing a well-loved denim jacket with a red flannel shirt that perfectly shows off his toned chest. You didn't realise just how tall he is until now that he's standing in front of you.

"Hey, Lois said you might be here tonight. It's great to see you again. And what a coincidence that Clark decided to come tonight as well?" Jimmy says, voice obviously overexaggerated. You can tell something is up, and from Clark's confused expression, you can tell he can tell the same. Clark opens his mouth to say something before Jimmy interrupts.

"Well, I'm gonna head up to the bar and order. Why don't you two get to know each other?" Jimmy says, beginning to back away.

"Um, why don't I order, Jimmy. You don't know what I get here," Clark says.

"Root beer. You always get a root beer, Clark. Now sit down and get to know the nice girl," Jimmy says, attempting to force Clark down by his shoulders. Clark gives in and sits down. He shoots Jimmy a look, only to be met with a smug smile. You shoot a similar look over to Lois, who is pulling the same exact face. She gives you a wink before turning to talk to Jimmy.

An awkward silence hangs in the air for a while. You're both too shy to say anything. Clark eventually opens his mouth.

"Lois didn't tell you I was coming, did she?" he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Not exactly. She said she wasn't sure who was coming tonight," you respond, struggling to keep eye contact.

"Golly, now I'm embarrassed," he says, gulping awkwardly.

"Why would you be embarrassed?" you ask.

"Well, I think Jimmy and Lois have been scheming," he responds with a laugh.

"I figured as much," you laugh back. "I'm not exactly sure why, though."

"It's my fault. This is slightly embarrassing to admit in front of you but I'm a huge fan of your work," he says, a light blush spreading across his face.

You're shocked. Clark Kent has read your stuff?

"So when you came to visit the Daily Planet, I thought I recognised you from somewhere, and when Lois told me who you were, I asked her to introduce us. But it seems as though she didn't text you to ask first, like she said she would. I'm sorry they sprang this on you but I'd love to talk to you about your work. That story you published the other week about the farmer's strike was just incredible," he says.

"You've read my articles?" you ask shyly.

"Gosh, I've read them all. There's something I can't quite describe in all of your work. You have a way of making niche topics seem so personal. I've learned a ton from your work that I never would have otherwise," he says.

"That means a lot coming from you. I mean, your Superman stories are incredible. I see why he trusts you as his go-to journalist," you gush.

"Why, thank you," he says, his southern twang coming out. "Lois mentioned you'd read some of my work. I have to say I was flattered. Seems like we're both fans of each other."

Usually, you'd be annoyed at Lois for telling him how big a fan you are, but on this occasion, you feel like you should be thanking her.

You and Clark get to chatting. You share your writing processes and stories from interviews. Clark tells you about his Ma and Pa back home in Kansas and how important the farmers' strike was to them. Neither of you notices that Jimmy and Lois still haven't returned to the table. You chat for hours before you check your phone and see a message from Lois.

Lois - Seems like you two are getting along well ;) me and Jimmy are gonna call it a night and leave you two be. Text me when you're at the apartment x

"I think they've ditched us," you laugh.

"What time is it? I didn't realise how long we'd been talking," he says.

You check the time. It's almost 11 now.

"I should be heading back soon. Lois was planning to take me around the city tomorrow. I'm thinking of moving here so she wants to help me get a feel for life here," you say.

"That would be amazing. If you don't already have a job lined up I'll definitely send Perry some of your stuff. We'd be lucky to have you," he says with a smile. You flash him a shy smile back. You've really enjoyed getting to know him and don't want the evening to end.

"Why don't I walk you back to where you're staying. Google maps is never reliable in this city," he says. You agree and exit the bar with him.

You walk side by side, slowly, like neither of you wants the night to draw to a close. A comfortable silence hangs in the air. The city looks beautiful at night, and Clark can't help but look at you taking in the sights.

"You look beautiful," he says softly. He doesn't realise the words have left his mouth until it's too late.

"Golly, I'm sorry, that was very forward. We've only just met and I'm coming on too strong," he says, cupping his hand over his face.

"Thank you, Clark. You look handsome too," you reply shyly. Goosebumps start to form on your arms. You didn't anticipate how chilly it would get in the evenings here, so you didn't think to bring a jacket. You let out a quiet shiver.

Without a word, Clark takes off his jacket and places it around your shoulders.

"I'm ok, Clark, you don't need to-" you begin to say.

"A pretty girl like you shouldn't have to be cold. We've still got a few blocks to walk, I want you to be warm," he says with a confidence starting to grow. You lock eyes with him. You want to kiss him; he's so sweet and gentlemanly, not to mention he's gorgeous. Instead, you thank him and continue your walk.

You both begin to drift closer together as you walk, your hands gently bumping together, wanting to embrace but being unsure. Eventually, Clark interlocks his pinkie with yours and looks at you, making sure it's ok. You can tell he doesn't want to rush this. You've only just met but it feels like you've known each other for months. In a way you've gotten to know each other through your writing. You flash him a smile and interlock his hand with yours.

You continue like this, chatting about everything, until you reach your apartment.

"I had fun tonight," you say, reluctantly dropping his hand as you reach

"You know, I know this city even better than Lois does. She's always so busy working she doesn't get to experience the city like I do. I can ask her if maybe I can be your tour guide tomorrow? That is, if it's ok with you?" he asks, picking up your hands again. You nod.

"I think you fit in here. I hope you do decide to move. I'd love to get to know you more. And if you don't, then you've at least got a new pen pal out of it," he says with a shy smile, his dimples framing his face.

A beat of silence hangs in the air. You both stare into each other's eyes, holding onto the last few moments of your night together. A sudden confidence bubbles in your chest. You cup your hands to his face, stand on the tips of your toes and place a kiss to his lips.

You pull away, unsure of how he'll react. He looks at you, shocked, before a smile creeps across his lips and he leans down to kiss you again. The kiss is delicate. He holds your waist like you're a delicate glass ornament he's scared to break. Eventually you break away, both of you with grins on your faces.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Clark," you say, heading into the apartment and closing the door.

You stand in the doorway in complete shock. The Clark Kent is a fan of you. And he's an amazing kisser. His jacket is still hanging around your shoulders. It smells like wood and fresh linen. It smells like him.

You pick up the phone and text Lois.

Your totally adorable tutor, Clark, helps you get through finals.

Tags/content warnings: fluff, college romance, slow(ish) burn romance, nerdy jock Clark, finals, swearing, Christmas romance, Clark x Female Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Writer's note: thanks for the anonymous suggestion!!! also i'm english so please excuse any inconsistencies with american college life lol, idk how similar it is to uni life here

Please send any suggestions for Clark fanfics, my inbox is open :)

Masterlist here

The calendar on your wall was filling up fast, each day ticked off, reminding you finals week was approaching fast. 

Your first semester of sophomore year had been a massive step up from freshman year: more assignments, higher standards, and way less free time. You'd considered giving up your role at the student paper (one of the few things keeping you sane) more often than you'd like to admit. 

You'd always been a good student with straight A's, but this semester had just kicked your ass. All nighters fuelled by ramen, Skittles and whatever they had in the cafeteria at midnight wasn't cutting it anymore, and you became desperate to keep up your streak of A's. 

You're sat in the campus library, simultaneously blasting a study podcast through your headphones and writing feverishly on your laptop. After a few hours, you decide to stretch your legs. You pack up your kit and head for the exit, when the bulletin board catches your eye.  

Pinned on the board are various sign up sheets for sports clubs, scholastic competitions and..... an advert for a tutor. It reads:

Free Student Tutor for [Your Subject] I'm Clark, a junior with straight A's and A+'s. Available for tutoring every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday from 4-6pm, and occasional weekends. Call the number below if interested. First come, first serve. 

It was a sign, the final push you needed to ace your final exams. You add the number into your contacts and rush back to your dorm.

Your overflowing bag barely touches the floor before you press call. The phone rings twice before he picks up.

"Hello?" a deep voice says on the other side of the call.

"Hi, I'm calling about the ad in the library. I'm desparate for a tutor, I hope I'm not too late?" you reply, giving your name, still out of breath from rushing back to your room.

"Oh hi! Golly, I didn't expect to get a response so soon, I only put the poster up this morning. You're not too late at all. I'm Clark by the way, Clark Kent," he replies. You notice the country twang in his voice. Cute.

"Your name rings a bell. You also write for the student paper, right? I've read some of your stuff, it's really good. I just stick to entertainment writing and reviewing the seasonal specials in the campus cafe," you say with a giggle. You'd never properly met Clark before, but you knew from reading his articles that he was smart. Just what you needed.

"I thought you sounded familiar. I loved your latest review, what was it called? Oh, 'The Good, The Brewed and The Ugly: The Drinks You Should Order To Get Through Finals.' I thought it was brilliant," he says.

"Thanks, I was so proud of that title. Anyway, you said on the ad that you could do Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Would tomorrow be too soon to start? I know it might be an inconvenience but I need to fit as much practice in before finals as I can," you ask, fingers crossed.

"Sure, it's no inconvenience at all," he replies. "Let's meet in the cafe at 4 tomorrow. You're a sophomore, right? I've got all the textbooks from last year still, so just bring yourself and your laptop."

"Perfect, thanks, Clark. See you tomorrow!" you say before hanging up. You sleep easily knowing you've got a great tutor in the bag.

Your 8am alarm jolts you from a deep sleep, the first you've had in weeks. You go to your classes, finish your essay and sit in your dorm, waiting for 4pm.

With your laptop, notebook and pens packed away in your backpack, you get ready to head down to the cafe. Just as you're about to open the door, your phone buzzes. You check the message:

Clark - Got us a table in the corner of the cafe. It's super quiet, perfect for studying. See you soon :)

You get to the cafe exactly on time and decide to set your things down at the table before ordering a drink. You walk towards the corner of the cafe and see Clark. You stop dead in your tracks.

Even sitting down, you can tell just how tall he is, and the varsity jacket he's wearing does little to disguise his broad chest and shoulders - not the kind of guy you'd think would have 'golly' in his day-to-day vocabulary. He's typing on his laptop, which looks more like a mini iPad in his massive hands, and he reaches up to brush a stray, brunette curl away from his glasses before he spots you.

Shit, he's cute, this is the last thing you need right now.

"Hey Clark," you say, setting your stuff down on the chair in front of him, trying to seem confident and hoping your face isn't turning a bright shade of red.

"Oh hey, right on time," he says smiling at you. He stands up to give you a handshake (seriously, is this dude from the 1950s?) and you're taken aback by just how tall he is. He's gotta be 6'4 at least.

"I'm just gonna grab a drink and then we can start?" you say, hoping you can regain some composure while you're waiting in line.

"No need, I got you a peppermint mocha. You said it was the best drink here in your review so I thought it'd be a safe bet. I got a hot decaf, wasn't sure how you take your coffee but I can get another if you don't like it," he says, extending a paper cup towards you. You stand there for a second looking at him, then the cup, then back at him. He's cute, dorky, jacked and bought you coffee? You're so screwed.

"That's perfect, just how I like it. Thanks, Clark," you say, taking the cup from him. Your fingers brush and you pull away before you can register the gentle touch.

"What did you get? Don't tell me it's the mulled wine refresher, it's awful. Definitely deserved to be at the very bottom of my review," you joke, trying to regain some composure.

"Haha, I remember, didn't you say cold non-alcoholic mulled wine was 'wrong on a fundamental and spiritual level'? So I took your advice and got the same as you, just iced. It's pretty amazing," he says, sitting down and taking a sip from his drink. You sit down across from him and pull out your equipment from your bag.

The next two hours are exactly as you hoped. He answers all your questions and queries and recaps the few chapters you'd been struggling with. When the session is over, you feel a million times more confident.

"Thanks, for all your help, Clark. It's all starting to make more sense. Chapter 7 has been getting on my last nerve for weeks, but I see how it works now," you say packing up your stuff.

"Glad I could help. Although I'm surprised you were looking for a tutor, you seem to be pretty advanced, especially for a sophomore," he says, genuinely puzzled.

"Actually, I'm typically a straight-A student, but this semester has just kicked my ass. I have most of the knowledge and ability, I think I just need to get my confidence up," you say.

"Well, that's what I'm here for. Are you free again Thursday? I have practice on Wednesdays, but after that I'm all yours," he says, packing his books away. His backpack must weigh a ton, but with those muscles, you're sure he can handle it.

"Sounds good to me. I noticed the jacket earlier, what do you play?," you ask.

"Lacrosse. I used to play football in high school, even got MVP a couple of times, but it was too violent for me, you know? Lacrosse is more my speed," he says. "Feel free to say no, but do you want me to walk you to your dorm? It's pretty dark outside now."

You hadn't noticed the flicker of the streetlamps coming on. Campus was pretty safe, but let's face it, who would pass up an opportunity to spend an extra 15 minutes with Clark?

"I'd appreciate that, if it's not too much trouble?" you say. He takes your backpack from your shoulders and slings it over his.

"No trouble at all," he says.

You walk back side by side in the crisp winter air. He tells you about his hometown and his ma and pa.

"Oh, so you're a farmboy?" you joke.

You chat about life back home and plans for the holidays, hoping you're not almost back at your dorm.

"Well, this is me," you say when you reach your building. "Thanks again for today, Clark, it was great to meet you. And next time coffee is on me."

He chuckles, gives you a small wave, and you walk your separate ways.

Crap, he's cute. You can't fall for your tutor, especially not this close to finals. You tell yourself you need to focus and push any developing feelings away.

You continue like this for the next 4 weeks, meeting every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Clark always arrives ahead of time with your coffee already on the table. You try arriving early to beat him to it, but he's always there first. You offer to pay him back for coffee, but he just says, "Ma raised a gentleman, and besides, it's my treat."

He offers to meet you on weekends closer to finals, which turn into hangout sessions, rather than study sessions. You grab a coffee and walk through campus, just talking about life and getting to know each other. You swear you catch him staring at you once or twice. He gives you the confidence boost you needed, and you start getting 100% on your assignments.

And then finals week comes around.

Your alarm blares at 6am, but you're already wide awake. You start getting ready when your phone buzzes.

Clark - Hey, good luck today, you're gonna ace it. Remember, stay calm and breathe, you can do this :). Meet me outside the classroom before the exam.

You walk towards the building, headphones on, trying to calm down. You'd forgotten to eat anything in your panicked frenzy which you can tell will be a problem based on your rumbling stomach. You almost walk straight past Clark before you hear him shout your name.

"Hey, how are you, you look nervous," he says with a concerned look on his face.

"I'm super nervous but I know I can do it. I just need to get this first exam done, and then I'll feel better," you say, nervously rubbing your hands together.

"I had a feeling you'd still be nervous so I got you something," he says holding a paper cup out towards you. "You said you forget to eat when you feel nervous so I got you a peppermint hot chocolate to keep you going. I thought coffee might make the nerves worse."

"Thanks, Clark. That's just what I need," you say with a smile. You start to calm down as you're sipping your drink.

You finish your drink and throw the cup away as you hear the 5-minute warning. Clark notices your restless leg as you lean against the wall.

"Don't worry, you're gonna be fine. If you get nervous, remember everything I've said; you can do this. I'll wait for you outside when the exam is done," he says, holding your shoulders. You nod but the nervous expression doesn't fade from your face.

He pulls you into a hug. You're not sure how to react, he's caught you by surprise. You hug him back just as you hear students being ushered into the room.

"I gotta go, I'll see you after," you say, turning away before he can see you blush.

The exam goes amazingly. You manage to calm your nerves and focus.

Once it's over, you run out looking for Clark.

"How'd it go?" you hear him say from down the hall.

"It went so well, I didn't panic and I remembered everything," you say as you run towards him.

"Gosh that's amazing," he says, beaming. Without thinking, he picks you up and pulls you into another hug. He remembers himself after a second and puts you down, red in the face.

"So, um, how many do you have left now?" he says.

"Just one, I submitted my essay assignment a while back, so I'm all done after tomorrow," you say.

He walks you back to your dorm, standing a little closer than usual. You say your goodbyes and head up to take a nap. You keep replaying his embrace in your head. You'd accepted that you liked him ages ago, I mean, those dimples are enough to fall in love with alone. But is it possible he liked you back? You try to push it out of your head until your finals are done.

Your next exam goes just as well, and once again, Clark is waiting outside. You walk back to your dorm together, a comfortable silence hanging in the air. Until Clark breaks it.

"So since we're both done with our finals, I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Lacrosse holiday formal tomorrow evening? I can walk you there if you're interested," he asks coyly.

After the stress of these last few weeks, an evening out is exactly what you need.

"I'd love to, text me the information and I'll be there," you say, beginning to walk away from him so you can go and crash in your dorm, not fully registering what just happened.

"Oh, really? Amazing, I'll text you," he says, voice trailing off as you walk away.

You get up to your room, jump into bed and close your eyes. Then it hits you. Was he asking you to come with him? Like a date? No way, you'd gotten so close over these few weeks but surely you're reading to much into it.

Your phone buzzes:

Clark - Hey, here's the link to the info. Really happy you decided to come :) I'll pick you up at 7 tomorrow? Clark - And well done again for getting through finals, I knew you could do it

As much as you wanted to believe this might be a date, you didn't want to ruin the friendship you and Clark had built over the last few weeks. You decide to not assume anything, you don't want to risk losing your friend.

The next evening rolls around fast. You'd spent all morning trying to figure out what do wear (how does 'Christmas formal' differ from normal formal anyway?) and finally started getting ready. Your hair is perfectly curled, with the front pinned back with a dark red, velvet bow. You'd pinned your mistletoe earrings on and started on your makeup when you hear the familiar buzz of a text message.

Clark - Still on for tonight? I heard the cafe is catering the formal, let's hope they've made enough peppermint mochas ;)

A wink? Does that mean something? Or has Clark just not discovered emojis yet? You tell yourself to stop reading into things, you're just friends.

You slip into your red dress, perfectly matching the bow in your hair, and put on your favourite sparkly heels. You sit, waiting until 7pm rolls around, nervous butterflies brewing in your stomach.

Clark - I'm outside, come down whenever you're ready. No rush!

You look down the spiral stairwell outside your room and see Clark waiting in the lobby below. The butterflies in your stomach refuse to quiet down. He's wearing a black suit and tie that emphasises the sheer size of his chest. As you get to the bottom of the stairs, he's reading the building's notice board, oblivious to you standing behind him. You catch a glimpse of his cufflinks - vintage looking Santa hats, probably gifted by his Pa. Seriously, could he get any more adorable?

You hesitate to tap him on the shoulder. Instead, you awkwardly clear your throat to get his attention and say, "Hey, Clark, are you ready to go?" He turns to look at you, with a smile on his face. His smile quickly turns to shock (or awe, you can't quite tell). His mouth hangs wide open, his eyes look like they might pop out and his face becomes a bright shade of red.

"Golly, um, you look fantastic. Um, that dress is gorgeous. Did you do something different with your hair?" he eventually spits out, clearly at a loss for words.

"Something like that," you giggle shyly, taken aback by his sudden shy demeanour. "I like your cufflinks."

"Thanks, my Pa gave them to me. Some kind of family heirloom," he says without taking his eyes off you. "Shall we get going?" He extends his arm out to you.

Even now you're unsure if this is a reflection of his gentlemanly upbringing, or if it's affection reserved just for you. But as you're walking, you lean into his arm and allow yourself to believe maybe it is just for you.

The formal is amazing. The hall is decorated in snowy whites, reds and greens. You walk in, arms linked together, and find a seat. Clark gets you a drink and you sit awkwardly trying to make small talk, neither one of you wanting to aknowledge the elephant in the room (aka the feelings you're both desparately trying to hide from each other). After a while, you get back into your usual rhythm of conversation. Clark forbids you from talking finals with him anymore, for fear of you second guessing yourself. Instead he distracts you with the story of the cufflinks. You feel brave and place your hands the cuffs of his jacket as he's telling the story. His speech doesn't faulter but you notice the rosy hue on the tips of his ears.

You and Clark eventually separate to socialise with your respective friends, but you notice his quick glances at you when he thinks you aren't looking. Your friends drag you to the dance floor, begging you to let loose and have fun with them after how AWOL you'd been during finals season. Eventually, the music slows, and you and your friends begin to exit the floor, until you feel a hand grabbing yours.

You look back to see Clark, gently holding your hand. "Can I steal you for a dance?" he says.

You nod, completely awestruck that this is actually happening. You look back and exchange knowing glances with your friends. They'd had a feeling your lack of communication the last few weeks wasn't entirely just down to finals. He leads you as you gently sway to the music, your hand in his and the other placed gently on your waist.

"I'm really proud of you, you know?" he says softly.

"Why's that?" you ask.

"You've become so much more confident these last few weeks. It's clear not just in your essays or tests, but even just how you talk. It makes me really happy to see," he replies earnestly.

You blush and look away. "Well, that's mostly thanks to you," you say.

"Only partly. In those exams, that was all you. You're the one who's made you feel more confident, I just gave an extra boost," he says, holding you closer. You continue to dance to the music, leaning against Clark's shoulder. You close your eyes, completely in the moment.

"I think the evening is starting to wind down. Want me to walk you back to your dorm?" he asks. You nod. You grab your clutch and walk the familiar path back to your dorm with him, arm in arm and closer together than ever before. He puts his jacket around your shoulders when he notices the cool, evening air making goosebumps on your arms. You don't want the night to end as you see your building getting closer and closer.

Just as you reach the lobby door and turn to say your usual goodbyes, he says, "Why don't I walk you to your room?". You take him by the hand and lead him into the lobby. He's slightly taken aback by your sudden confidence, but doesn't let go. You walk slowly up the spiral staircase and down the hall until you reach your room. Still holding his hand, you turn to face him.

"Well, this is me. I had fun tonight, thanks for inviting me," you say. You start to open the door to head inside, bringing the night to a close, until you hear Clark say, "Wait, look up."

Mistletoe.

Of course, the girl three doors down was obsessed with Christmas. Truthfully, you think Christmas decorating was her coping mechanism for finals week. Either way, you were indebted to her in this moment.

You look at Clark. His expression is bordering on nervous and excited, like he's been waiting for a chance like this, but is unsure if he should take it. You place your hands gently on his chest, and stand on your very tippy toes. Clark catches the hint and leans down.

He places and gentle kiss to your lips. God, this is all you'd been thinking about during those tutoring sessions, and now it's actually real. He holds the back of your waist delicately, as if you're made of spun sugar.

You both pull away and look at each other for a few seconds, unsure of what to say next.

"Well, looks like I might need to find a new tutor next semester. Pretty sure there's a rule against kissing your tutor somewhere," you joke, trying to break the ice.

He laughs and adjusts his glasses.

"I'm sure we can make an exception, " he says, his tone now confident and flirty. It catches you off guard, but Clark kisses you again before you can react.

Part 2 of this post

Requests open :)

Masterlist here

college!clark - who volunteers for all open house events and freshman orientation, and takes it incredibly seriously, wearing full collegiate apparel from head to toe and carrying a seemingly never-ending stack of information booklets

college!clark - who studies with you in the library and draws circles on your hand with his finger when he's focusing

college!clark - who leaves your favourite study snacks and drinks outside your door when you're too stressed with assignments to hang out

college!clark - who always walks you the longer way back to your dorm so he can spend more time with you

college!clark - who lets you practice your presentations with him and properly gets into the role of your professor, with his glasses on the tip of his nose, notebook and pen in hand

college!clark - who blows you kisses from across the field when he scores in his lacrosse tournament

college!clark - who visits home and asks his Ma to cook your favourite foods for you to keep in your fridge when you're too busy to cook

college!clark - who runs across campus to bring you a spare jacket and socks when you're soaked and unprepared for a rain storm

Inspired by my latest fic - here

Masterlist here

Requests are open :)

college!clark - who offers to drive you home for winter break because he knows how scared you are of driving in the snow

college!clark - who buys you your favourite drink from the campus cafe every day and secretly switches your order to decaf when he knows you've had too many energy drinks pulling an all-nighter

college!clark - who calls his Ma and Pa every day after class and gushes about you to them

college!clark - who walks you to class every morning, even when classes don't start until the afternoon

college!clark - who manages to sweet talk his lacrosse coach into letting you watch his practice every week

college!clark - who's teammates nickname him 'country boy' due to the Kansas twang in his voice, but only likes it when you call him that

college!clark - who uses 'golly' and 'darn' in his day-to-day vocabulary, you're the only one he allows to make fun of him for it

college!clark - who is easily bribed into helping you study with copious amounts of baked goods

college!clark - who bought you a matching varsity jacket with his name on so you'd stop stealing his (you still take it, he doesn't mind)

college!clark - who stays up with you during all-nighters, even when he can't help with your studying, he sits on the bed and lets you play with his hair to help you focus