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in-my-feels-probably · 2 days ago

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Oooo girl you just opened the floodgates. Can I pls request a Clark x reader where she’s a literal fallen star (like in Stardust)? I just think it would be cute if he was with someone who could create starlight and help heal him since the sun is just a star yk.

At The Beach, In Every Life

Request: Hear me out, Clark Kent x childhood sweetheart!reader. Like, they grew up tgt on the farm and stuff!!

and: Oooo girl you just opened the floodgates. Can I pls request a Clark x reader where she’s a literal fallen star (like in Stardust)? I just think it would be cute if he was with someone who could create starlight and help heal him since the sun is just a star yk.

Hi! I hope you don’t mind that I combined your requests. This is my first time writing for Clark! Bare with me while I get the hang of writing his character. Sorry it took me a while to get to these requests, I had a ton of ideas but wasn’t sure how to put them together. I think I did alright, hopefully you like it. Thanks for sending in requests! Enjoy :)

(Warnings: none? maybe a little angsty towards the end, not proofread well. let me know if i missed anything)

—

It was laughable, really — how you and Clark came to meet. Star crossed lovers, in the literal sense of the words.

When the ship Clark was sent to Earth in crashed on the farm, it brought down half the sky with it. Meteors, scrap metal, chunks of kryptonite…and you. A fallen star, ripped from your own orbit by Clark’s ship as he fell to Earth. While he landed in the Kent’s backyard, you landed in the next door neighbor's yard just down the road, a small plot of land nestled between the Kent’s and Lang’s. Lucky for you both, a meteor shower seemed to cover both of your arrivals to everyone in Smallville, other than your adoptive parents with matching craters a hundred feet from their homes.

A pact between your parents and Clark’s was made once they discovered both of your arrivals, their fear slipping away the second they realized you both were nothing but babies who couldn’t even hold your necks up on your own yet.

Your parents would keep Clark a secret, his parents keeping you a secret. As far as the town knew, your joint arrival was nothing more than a mere coincidence, two babies adopted within a week of each other. Clark’s parents claimed infertility, having waited a bit too long to have kids of their own, while yours claimed you as a distant relative, recently orphaned by a car accident. It was never questioned by the people in town, and it was the truth you both grew up knowing. No one knew the truth about you and Clark’s true identities except both your parents and each other.

Clark was a remarkably normal child. So close to human, so like everyone else you knew, that you forgot most of the time that he came from a different planet.

The first time you realized he was different was in elementary school when your entire class was sent home with the flu. Every student, even the teacher, spent a few days at home with a nasty temperature, chills, a cough, and a runny nose. They could barely get out of bed, let alone make it to school. Every single student came down with it — all except Clark and you.

It could’ve been a coincidence, sure. But as you thought about it, you realized you had never seen Clark sick. Not once, in the entire time you’d known him. And more than that, you’d never seen him injured. The kids your age were nothing but runny noses and scraped knees. There was always some sort of bug going around, or a plethora of colorful bandaids on the playground.

But Clark?

Not a mark on him. He always seemed to skirt any sickness or injury. So, while the other kids were sick and bedridden, he was having a mini vacation to himself. And Clark was never one to pass up on the opportunity to eat ice cream in bed.

That week also happened to be the first time Clark realized you were different.

Having those days off of school, you and Clark had nothing to do. Smallville was already boring enough on a regular day. With your parents off at work and all your friends laid up in bed, you had nothing better to do than make the trek through the fields connecting your house to Clark’s. You spent all day together, running around and getting up to no good.

It wasn’t often you went to the wreckage site of either of your crashes.

Your parents forbade it, filling in the holes with dirt and sod to keep you out of it. They made it clear that it wasn’t somewhere they wanted either of you visiting without their permission, and on an average day, you would have listened. But you were bored…and the pair of you together was a recipe for disaster. So, you went.

You had barely made it within a few feet of the crater when Clark stumbled, stopping in his tracks as he hunched over.

“Clark?” You asked, your voice full of worry. “Are you okay? Feeling sick?”

It was clear by the look on Clark’s face that this was as much a foreign feeling to him as it was to you. “I…I don’t know.”

“Maybe we should go home,” you said, taking his arm to help prop him up.

Clark let out a groan, swaying on his feet. It was only when a green reflection embedded in the grass caught your attention that you realized what was happening. Kryptonite. The one surviving substance from his home planet that was the sole thing on Earth that could weaken him, or even worse, kill him.

You didn’t even think about the fact that you were being exposed to radiation not unlike the sun’s. All you cared about was getting Clark back to the house so he could heal.

“I thought your parents got rid of all of this,” you huffed, hooking his arm around your shoulder so you could make your way home. “You’re heavy.”

Clark let out a huff, leaning into you as you walked him home. “Maybe you’re just weak.”

You wanted to laugh, but you couldn’t. He wasn’t getting any better.

It was at least another half mile back to his house, and you found yourself wishing it was the flu. The flu didn’t require radiation from the sun to cure it. And, to make matters worse, the sun had just gone down. It was enough that it would still heal him, it would just take more time. He was in for a night of pain and weakness until the morning when he could soak up the rays, and the thought of him tossing and turning in bed was more than you could handle.

As you got older, learning to manage your powers became a lot easier. But when you were young, they were all over the place. The more emotional you got, the less control you had.

You were panicking so hard hauling Clark back to his house, you didn’t even realize you were glowing. It wasn’t until he started to straighten up, the crease in his brow smoothing over that you could see the glow you were emitting. If it was anyone else, they would’ve been running and screaming by now. But Clark just looked at you with a look of awe on his face, the pain slowly seeping from his body.

It wasn’t like you were the sun. To heal, Clark needed access to yellow sunlight. But the sun is also a star, and your biological composition was close enough to bridge the gap between the two. As you clung to him, too concerned for his safety to notice, you’d been slowly but surely reversing the effects of the kryptonite.

He stood up straight, easing himself from your grip as you both continued your walk back to his house.

“I feel better,” he murmured, tired but grateful. “Thank you.”

You just nodded, keeping your arm linked with his.

—

Thankfully, Clark didn’t get injured much in his teenage years. While Clark found it generally easy to coexist with society, it was a lot more complicated for you.

Even though you grew up on the neighboring farm and it was all you had ever known, there was something in you that still longed for the sky.

Smallville wasn’t exactly known for its light pollution. On nights when it was really clear, all the stars shined bright in the sky, twinkling just out of reach.

You didn’t like to talk about it much. Sometimes, Clark would ask about what you remembered from your life in the sky. But you never had much to say, and he never pushed. As he got older, he’d go for flights at night. It wasn’t often he got to use the full extent of his abilities, and he loved the freedom of it. You’d watch from your porch, nostalgic and envious. Clark was the kind of person that made him incredibly hard to be mad at. It was only when you got jealous that you’d get close to being upset at him.

On your sixteenth birthday, you woke up to Clark tapping on your window. Your eyes widened as you realized he was hovering, at least ten feet above the ground.

You unlatched the window, sliding it open slowly as you winced at the creaks it made. “What are you doing here? Someone will see.”

Clark only smiled, offering a hand. “Come on.”

“What?” You asked, exasperated. “Are you crazy?”

“It’s your birthday,” he murmured, turning on his best puppy dog eyes.

God, you were a sucker for those eyes.

With a sigh, you took his hand, letting him lead you onto the window ledge. He hooked one arm around your waist as he helped you stand, letting you grip his other with your free hand. If your nails digging into his arm hurt at all, he didn’t show it.

“Clark, I swear to god. If you drop me…”

Clark playfully scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not gonna drop you, idiot. Come on. Hold on tight.”

“Clark—”

“Sorry, what was that?” He asked, covering your mouth with his hand to muffle your scream as he pulled you off the ledge. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

You clung to him, eyes shut tight. You could feel him chuckle as you pressed your cheek into his chest, gripping onto him for dear life. He held you a bit tighter, adjusting his grip as he slowly lifted you into the clouds.

“Open your eyes. You’re missing your present.”

“Piss off,” you spat, feeling the rumble in his chest as he laughed with your face buried into his shirt. “Are we high? It feels like we’re high.”

Eventually, Clark slowed his ascent, coming to a stop as he settled in the sky. He had taken you up past the clouds, high enough that any onlookers wouldn’t be able to see you through the smog. It was only when he gently coaxed your head out from being tucked in his chest that you cracked an eye open, your mouth opening in shock.

It was beautiful.

The stars stretched as far as you could see in every direction, twinkling and sparkling. You couldn’t help but smile, easing your grip on Clark’s arms.

“Oh…”

“Like it?” He asked, a hopeful grin on his face. “I was worried all day because of the rain that it wouldn’t clear up. But it’s beautiful out.”

Clark couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You looked so happy, settled into him as you gazed around. He held you close, grinning ear to ear.

Clark always found it easy to make you happy, but he knew there was something missing. Even though he had no memory of it, he sometimes missed the life he could’ve had. He tried his hardest, but he knew he’d never be completely content. And if he felt that way, still able to use his abilities and acknowledge where he came from with his parents, then he couldn’t imagine how you felt.

You couldn’t fly — you could never truly go home.

Your parents didn’t like to talk about where you came from. As far as they were concerned, you were a gift, and that was that. They weren’t as open as Clark’s parents were with him about him coming into their lives. Clark got an earful about it every time they’d shut it down when you tried to talk about it. He was really your only outlet, and he hated the look on your face when you’d come to him, tears in your eyes. He’d give anything to fix it, and more often than not, he did.

“Clark, this is beautiful. I can’t believe you get to see this all the time. Look at this view!”

Clark just smiled, still unable to tear his eyes away from your face. “Oh, I’m looking.”

—

Clark’s first true heartbreak was towards the end of high school, after he had to officially turn down Lana Lang.

They’d had an on and off thing for years, and she was really the only girl that he’d ever had any real interest in. Clark was never one for little crushes, never mentioning them to you like you’d hear the rest of the boys in your classes do. He was always more focused on school and his home life.

Lana, to her credit, managed to squeeze her way past all that and into his heart.

But he had a big secret — and she knew it.

Despite wanting to be with her, he just couldn’t find it in himself to truly commit. Loving him was dangerous. He was too powerful, and too many people could use the ones he loved as a weapon against him. He just couldn’t stomach the thought. It was bad enough that you and your parents knew, the handful of people in potential danger already keeping him up at night. But Lana, too? He just couldn’t do it.

Lana was just as frustrated as he was. From a distance, Clark was perfect. He was kind to everyone, and quite the gentleman to her. He made good grades, kept up with his responsibilities on the farm. He was a little nerdy, sure, a little awkward. But he had potential, and she saw that.

Except he’s get cagey when she got too close. He’d make excuses and disappear, or change the subject when she got even remotely near finding out his secret. There was something big he was hiding from her, and she couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t completely honest with her. And one day, it all caught up to them. They had to call it quits.

You found him that afternoon after school, at his crash site of all places. His mom had been worried sick, calling you when Clark didn’t come home from school. You made up some excuse on his behalf, telling her he’d be home for dinner. It didn’t take long to find him there.

When he was upset, he’d go to one of two places. To you…or to where your lives interlinked for the first time.

He was sat in the dirt, resting his arms on his knees. You didn’t have to get close to be able to see that his shoulders were shaking, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. The sight broke your heart.

You carefully walked around him, kneeling in front of him. “Clark?”

He just stared at the ground, too embarrassed to look up. His knuckles had gone white from clenching his fists together. You just huffed, gently taking his hands in yours.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” you chastised, running your thumbs along the back of his palms. “Clark…Clark, look at me.”

If there was one thing about Clark, it was that he was a sucker for you. Just like you couldn’t resist those puppy dog eyes, he couldn’t resist that gentle and loving tone in your voice.

He slowly raised his head, sniffling. “…You heard?”

You nodded, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear. “I did. I’m so sorry, Clark.”

It was like you could feel his pain. Your parents always joked when you were kids that you felt each other's pain. That something must have happened in the crash to link you together, because you were basically each other's other half. When you’d fall and scrape your knees on the playground as a kid, Clark would subconsciously walk around the farm with a slight limp all day. When he’d have a bad day at school, his chest burning from keeping it all in, you’d convince yourself (and your parents) in a panic in your kitchen that you were the youngest person ever to have a heart attack.

From the way your chest was tight and you felt the unexplainable urge to want to burst into tears, you knew Clark must’ve been feeling the same way. It was awful, and you couldn’t take it.

You squeezed his hands, trying to scrounge up an ounce of happiness to somehow transfer it from yourself to him.

If you could feel each other's pain, it would work with joy, wouldn’t it?

You couldn’t help it when you started to glow. You were clutching his hands so tight, the feelings stirring in you so visceral, that you just couldn’t keep it together. You’d gotten very good at managing your abilities, but Clark always seemed to bring them out of you.

It was a faint glow, no brighter than the porch lights that were waiting for Clark back home where his mom had dinner ready for him.

It seeped out of you, slowly encircling him like a warm blanket. Clark watched with soft eyes as you ran your thumbs along his knuckles, your brow furrowed in concentration. No words were said as you stayed together in silence, your knees pressed into the dirt as you met his gaze. Your glow encased you both, fluttering around your joined hands. Light bounced off the high points of Clark’s cheeks, a warm look in his eyes as he peered down at you through his glasses. Finally, his shoulders relaxed.

You let out a small gasp as the pressure in your chest started to ease, finally able to take in a good breath.

You barely had a second to relax before Clark was pulling you up out of the dirt and into his arms, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You let out a soft laugh, hugging him tight. Clark was always an affectionate guy.

He’d take a good hug over a winning lottery ticket if it meant he’d get to keep a feeling like this.

“Thank you,” he muttered into your neck.

You chuckled, running your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You made it better,” he was quick to correct you, his grip never letting up. “You always make it better.”

You hummed, keeping him close as long as he’d let you. “Always will.”

—

When it came time, you followed Clark to Metropolis, where he got a job at the Daily Planet.

You didn’t blame him for wanting to leave. He was called to do bigger things, and for that, he needed a bigger city. Smallville was—as the name implies—small, but it suddenly felt microscopic when he packed his bags and moved to the city. Like a cage, closing in on you every step you took. The entire town was full of memories of you and Clark. Everywhere you turned, the ghost of him was there. You promised Clark on the day he left that you’d do your best to live your life for yourself, in whatever way made you happy. It was conditional upon the promise that Clark would call every day and visit when he could. You both tried and failed to hold back tears, your dramatic goodbye enough to break even the noble and strong Mr. Kent. So much so that he secretly went out and bought you a plane ticket, safe and ready for you if (and when) you were ready to branch out on your own.

You lasted a week before you were at Clark’s door, your life savings in your pocket and half the month's rent in your hand. Years later, you still lived together.

Clark managed to get you a job down at the Daily Planet with him as a secretary and part time photographer for Perry White, his boss. He flaunted your ability to stay organized and work well under pressure, going as far as to mention that you had a working relationship with Superman, who somehow only seemed to pose for shots if they were yours. He, of course, redacted the part where he’d be the one to give you briefings on the couch in the evenings before he’d go be a hero the next day. Perry also liked your ability to keep Clark on a leash, who he valued as a reporter but wanted to throttle as an employee. Your shots of Superman, combined with the way you ran the office floor like the Navy, was more than enough to get you hired.

“You’d leave the house without your head if she wasn’t there to make sure it was still on your shoulders, Kent,” Perry would muse when Clark would show up to work for the third time that week with a crooked tie and a flustered look on his face as he finally managed to make it to his desk. “She beat you here and still had time to grab you a coffee. Don’t you live ten feet from each other? Learn to hustle.”

Clark would grin, a bashful look on his face. “What can I say, sir? She’s the wind beneath my wings.”

Perry just rolled his eyes, dropping files onto your desk for you to organize as he headed into his office. “And the fire lit under your ass, thank the Lord.”

—

Much to your apprehension, Clark had fully accepted his identity as Superman and was a regular figure amongst Metropolis.

Clark fought enemies you never could have even fathomed back in Smallville. He was part of domestic and international disputes, a constant topic in politics, and the face of the metahuman race. He made nationwide headlines every day, being the subject of them across major outlets. Sometimes, he was even the one to write them. His self given interviews frequently made it onto the front page. Everyone in the city—and the world, for that matter—knew Superman’s name. But at home, with you?

At home, he was just Clark.

Your brave, sweet, and silly best friend from the farm, who believed in Santa Clause and the tooth fairy long past what was considered the acceptable age to still believe in such things. You were the only person in his day to day life that got to see who he truly was. He’d let the mask drop when he was around you.

One night, you heard the balcony door slide open and close. You checked your phone only to see that it was long past midnight, which could only mean one thing.

Sometimes, when Clark was done with whatever battle it was that he fought that day, he’d simply walk past your room down the hall to his. Sometimes. Other times, his steps would stop just before getting to your door, like he was standing there in his full costume debating on whether or not he should bother you. More often than not, he’d cave and knock.

Tonight, he’d chosen the latter.

It never got any easier — seeing him in pain. His abilities meant that he was incredibly resilient, damn near indestructible. But sometimes, he’d come home bruised and bleeding. You’d gotten very used to patching him up, picking up the slack from the sun being down. You’d actually gotten quite good at it. Blood and sweat was easy. Manageable.

Tears and heartache were not.

Nights like tonight were the hardest. Whatever happened out there on the streets, Clark didn’t want to talk about it. He’d tell you about it later, when he was in the right headspace. For now, he just wanted to be. He just wanted to soak up being in your presence. You worked in silence, a soft glow pooling in your palms as you checked him over for injuries.

When you finished and went to lower your hands, he caught your wrists before you could pull away. You didn’t say anything as Clark gently guided your palms back to his cheeks, closing his eyes as he leaned into your touch. He let his hands settle on your wrists, his grip on you tense as you cradled his face.

You sighed, rubbing his cheek. “Clark…”

“Please,” he whispered, too afraid to open eyes for the fear that he’d start crying. “Just a little longer.”

You could only nod, running your thumbs along the tops of his cheekbones. You stayed that way for a while, sitting together in silence tethered to each other. That familiar sting behind your eyes and burn in your chest settled, and you knew that Clark was feeling it too. There was nothing you could say that would help. You knew that. Nights like these were brutal for you both.

But, even though there was nothing you could say, there was something you could do.

You concentrated hard, letting light and warmth seep into his skin. A faint glow enveloped him, and Clark didn’t need to open his eyes to know that you were healing him. The immediate relief he felt deep in his chest was evidence enough.

There were no words to express the gratefulness Clark felt in moments he shared with you like this. He could try all he wanted, but nothing would encompass how much he loved it. It was his favorite point in any day.

He let out a content hum, sighing in relief. “I feel better when I’m around you…like, literally.”

You paused, your heart stuttering in your chest. “Hmm?”

“You take care of me,” he continued, finally glancing up at you. “You make it all feel less heavy. You patch me up, you hold me together. You keep me sane.”

“It’s not much—”

“It’s everything.”

You gently rubbed his cheek, your heart pounding in your chest. You felt like you were flying. You wondered if he was feeling the same way. You continued to envelop him in a soft glow, and he leant into the warmth of your touch like a cat in a windowsill on a sunny afternoon.

You make everything better.

Words you’d heard from Clark before but never quite got used to hearing.

“Sometimes, that’s what I think I’m for.”

Clark’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

You smiled at the little crease in his brow, continuing to comfort and heal him.

“I think that’s why I fell from the sky that night. I was alone until you crashed into me. I didn’t really have a purpose. I just existed. But then we collided, and I think we still haven’t untangled from each other completely. There’s bits of you in me that I’ll never get rid of, and I’d never want to.”

Clark let out a soft gasp as you spoke, his eyes glassy. He didn’t speak as you continued, his hands settled gently around your wrists.

“I’ve always wondered what my purpose was being here. I think I’ve finally figured it out. You were sent here to do good. To be a symbol of hope, to inspire, to take care of people. But who’s looking after you?”

You reached up, gently brushing his hair back and out of his face. He let you, never once looking away.

“You were sent to a planet with a yellow sun. The sun is also a star, like me. You heal from the sun. You may be incredibly resilient, but you’re not totally invulnerable. You’re more human than everyone thinks. Maybe you need a little extra, sometimes. And maybe that’s what I am. A little extra.”

Clark let out a breath, his shoulders slumping. You could feel your chest tightening again, a telling sign that emotion was building up inside of him. His eyes were glassy, unshed tears pooling.

“You deserve to feel good, Clark. It’s an honor to make you feel better. It was an honor to share the same sky, and it’s been a privilege to share a life with you.”

Clark couldn’t take it anymore. His lips were on yours before you could take another breath, his hands coming up to gently cradle your face. You were quick to respond, letting him lead. You could taste the salt from his tears that finally fell, and feel the hitch in his breath as he sighed into your mouth.

He held you like you were made of glass, as if you were one harsh breath away from shattering.

It was perfect.

He finally pulled away to catch his breath, resting his forehead against yours. There was a faint tremble in his hands as they cupped your cheeks, and you brought yours up to cover his.

“You’re the best part of me,” he murmured, running his thumb along your cheek. “The part I could never live without. The only part that matters.”

Clark tilted your chin up, his eyes full of adoration and love as he finally gushed everything he’d been feeling for you for years.

“It’s you in every life. If I hadn’t accidentally found you in the sky that night, I would’ve kept looking till I did. I would look for you in every life.”

You were so happy, you could faint. You couldn’t stop smiling, leaning into his touch. You couldn’t contain your glow if you tried. Your light was beaming through the room, surrounding you both in a warm and bright blanket. Unbridled joy flowed out of you and into him, and he couldn’t hide his smile either. You reached up, gently wiping his tears. He mirrored your actions, and you realized you were crying too.

You squeezed his hand tight. “In every life?”

Clark’s soft laugh was like magic to you, beautiful and bright as he nudged your forehead with his.

“Every single one.”

—

A/N - Hi! Not in love with the ending, but I figured I made you wait long enough for me to post this, so it’ll do. Still getting the hang of writing Clark’s character down, so bare with me. Thank you so much for the requests, I hope you liked it!

#clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman 2025 #superman x reader

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