okay but clark kent would never make you feel like you're too much.
you could chew on his arm while he tries to work and heβd just keep typing. you could talk for hours and heβd listen, nod, offer thoughtful replies like it matters to him that the oven is basically a tiny, firey cave in everybody's home. which it does. probably. because it matters to you.
you could make slightly ridiculous plans and heβd either be all in, or heβd gently, sweetly tell you heβs not (rare). he would never make you feel small. or dumb.
because you have so many blankets. and you always bring him snacks. and sometimes he comes home to find you elbow deep in building a pillow fort for absolutely no reason.
youβre the body he wants to curl into when he needs warmth. when he needs home. you're where he always finds it.
so why would you being yourself bother him?
