#supermanfandom

[layla-lobelia]

Chapter 1 : The Sun

Word Count: Approximately 1,162 words. Summary: The story begins with a nine-year-old Clark Kent watching as new neighbors, the Johnson family, move into the farmhouse next door.

The Kansas sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the golden fields surrounding the Kent farm. Nine-year-old Clark Kent sat on the porch steps, his legs swinging back and forth as he watched the dust trail behind the moving truck rolling down the narrow dirt road. The truck creaked to a stop beside the neighboring farmhouse, a place that had been empty for as long as Clark could remember.

Clark tugged at the edge of his flannel shirt, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. New neighbors weren’t exactly common in Smallville, and the idea of meeting someone new made his heart race a little. He glanced back at the screen door behind him, where his mom, Martha Kent—or Ma Kent as everyone in town called her—was finishing up in the kitchen.

“You ready to meet the new folks?” Ma asked as she stepped out, carrying a large apple pie wrapped in a checkered cloth. Her smile was bright, but she had a keen way of noticing when Clark was uneasy.

“Yeah, I guess,” Clark replied, his voice a little higher than usual. He wasn’t scared exactly, but he couldn’t help feeling a little jittery.

Ma laughed softly and set the pie down for a moment, kneeling beside him. “They’re just people, Clark. Probably nervous, just like you are. But what’s the best way to meet new folks?”

Clark rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help grinning. “With kindness,” he said, parroting what Ma had told him a hundred times before.

“That’s right.” She ruffled his hair gently. “Now come on. Let’s give ‘em a proper Smallville welcome.”

Clark hopped off the porch, his boots kicking up little puffs of dirt as he and his mother made their way across the field that separated their farm from the neighbors’. He could see two men unloading furniture from the truck, lifting a couch and a couple of boxes toward the house. A woman stood nearby, shading her eyes with one hand as she surveyed the work. As Ma and Clark approached, the woman turned toward them and smiled.

“Hello there!” Ma Kent called out cheerfully, waving with her free hand.

The woman wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to greet them. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her brown skin glowed in the sunlight. She looked warm and welcoming, the kind of person who could put anyone at ease with just a smile.

“Well, hello!” she said, her voice bright and full of energy. “You must be the Kents! I’m Flora Johnson. We’ve heard so many good things about you already.”

“And we’ve been lookin’ forward to meeting you,” Ma Kent replied, offering the pie with both hands. “We brought a little something—hope you all like apple pie.”

Flora’s eyes lit up as she accepted the pie. “Apple pie? Oh, this is just perfect! Thank you so much, Martha.” She handed Ma Kent a large glass jar filled with amber-colored honey. “My husband and I keep bees, so here’s a little something from our hive. You’ll never find better honey.”

Clark stood quietly by Ma’s side, his eyes flicking between the two women. He wasn’t sure when he was supposed to speak, and he felt like he was too big to hide behind Ma’s skirt but too shy to just stand there.

Flora seemed to notice Clark for the first time, her eyes softening as she bent down slightly to his level. “And who’s this handsome young man?”

“This is my son, Clark,” Ma Kent said with a proud smile. “Clark, say hello to Mrs. Johnson.”

Clark’s ears burned red as he mumbled, “Hello, ma’am,” keeping his eyes on the ground.

Flora chuckled softly. “A little shy, huh? Don’t worry, my daughter’s the same way. She’s around your age, but she’s probably hiding out in the barn right now. She’s not too thrilled about moving.”

Ma Kent gave Clark a gentle nudge. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Clark? I’m sure she’d love to meet someone her own age.”

Clark hesitated for a moment, but the idea of meeting someone new tugged at him, curiosity outweighing his nerves. “Okay,” he said, giving his mom a quick nod before walking toward the barn, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

As he rounded the side of the barn, he spotted a girl standing on the other side of a wooden fence. Her curly black hair, tied back with a red scarf, bounced as she tried to scramble over the fence. Her overalls, covered in tiny embroidered flowers, were dirt-smudged, and her face was scrunched up in concentration as she pulled herself up, one foot barely managing to hook over the top rail.

Clark watched for a moment, biting back a laugh, before stepping closer. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

The girl startled, her grip slipping as she dropped back down to the ground with a soft thud. She spun around, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I’m tryin’ to leave,” she muttered, wiping her hands on her overalls as she glared at him. “What’s it to you?”

Clark blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Leave? But… you just got here.”

Layla frowned and crossed her arms. “I don’t like it here. What if the people here are mean? I don’t know anyone, and I don’t wanna be here.”

Clark tilted his head, thinking for a second before he stepped a little closer. “I’m not mean. And you know me now.”

The girl huffed but didn’t say anything, her stubbornness starting to crack a little.

“I’ll be your friend,” Clark said simply, his voice full of warmth. “That way, you don’t have to worry about not knowin’ anyone. I’m Clark, by the way.”

Layla’s frown slowly melted into something softer as she stared at him. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m Layla,” she said quietly, kicking at the dirt with her boot. “You really wanna be my friend?”

Clark shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Why not? We’re neighbors, right? And I don’t got many friends either.”

Layla’s eyes widened a little, as if she couldn’t quite believe he meant it. She glanced back at the fence for a moment, then at Clark. Finally, she gave a small, hesitant smile. “You don’t seem like a bad neighbor.”

Clark smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and happiness spread through him. “And you don’t seem so bad yourself.”

Layla took a step forward, a little more confident now. “So… what do you do around here? Is there anything fun?”

Clark thought for a moment, then grinned. “Well, there’s a creek just down the hill. We can catch frogs and stuff. And sometimes Pa lets me drive the tractor. It’s pretty cool.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “You can drive a tractor?”

Clark puffed out his chest a little. “Yup! Well, mostly just steer it. But it’s still fun.”

Layla giggled, the sound light and free. “Alright, that sounds kinda fun. Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.”

Clark beamed, glad that he had managed to cheer her up. “Come on, I’ll show you the creek. It’s not far.”

Layla hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Okay, but you better not trick me.”

“I won’t!” Clark said with a laugh, already turning to lead the way. “Promise.”

As they walked back toward the barn, Layla glanced over at Clark, a small smile playing on her lips. Maybe this new place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[burntsecrets]

Winter's Embrace

Pairing: Clark Kent (Smallville) x Reader Word Count: 780 words Prompt: @fluff-cember day 8: sparkling snow Summary: Clark surprises you with a moonlit walk through the snow-covered Kent farm, creating a magical moment under the stars. As the snow sparkles around you, he takes a leap of faith and asks the question that will change both your lives. Content Warnings: None—fluff, romance, and a proposal.

The air is crisp, biting at your cheeks, but the warmth of Clark's hand in yours keeps the chill at bay. His fingers curl around yours, strong and steady, a silent promise in the winter night. Snow blankets the Kent farm, transforming the familiar fields into a glittering wonderland under the silver moonlight. Each step you take crunches softly in the fresh powder, and your breath fogs the air like wisps of smoke.

Clark glances at you with a crooked smile, his blue eyes catching the moonlight in a way that makes your heart flutter. His scarf is slightly askew, and you resist the urge to adjust it. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and full of affection.

"I'm perfect," you reply, and it's true. The night feels like something out of a dream, and the way he looks at you makes you forget the cold entirely.

He leads you further into the fields, away from the barn's warm lights and the gentle hum of the farmhouse generator. The world feels still here, hushed by the snow, and all you can hear is the faint rustle of the wind and the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Close your eyes," Clark says, stopping abruptly.

You laugh softly. "Why? What are you up to, Kent?"

"Trust me." His voice is gentle but insistent, and when you look up into his earnest expression, you can’t help but comply.

You close your eyes, and his hands shift, one of them cupping your cheek while the other moves to your waist. The cold dissipates for a moment, replaced by the soothing warmth of his touch. You hear the faintest whoosh, almost like a breeze, and then feel the gentlest brush of something cool against your nose.

"Okay," he says, his voice softer now. "Open them."

When you do, you’re met with a scene so breathtaking you almost forget to breathe. Snowflakes are falling around you, twinkling like tiny diamonds in the moonlight. They drift lazily, shimmering as if kissed by starlight. You look up and realize the sky is clear, every star burning bright.

"How did you...?" you ask, trailing off as you turn to Clark.

He grins, a little sheepish but impossibly proud. "I might’ve run to the mountains," he admits, scratching the back of his neck. "I grabbed a handful of fresh snow and scattered it. Took a few tries to get it just right."

Your laughter bubbles up, warm and delighted, and you throw your arms around his neck. "Clark Kent, you are unbelievable."

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. "You make me want to be," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you’re both silent, standing in the softly falling snow, surrounded by the quiet beauty of the farm. The world feels infinite and intimate all at once, just the two of you.

Then he steps back, just enough to reach into the pocket of his coat. Your brows knit in confusion as you watch him pull out a small velvet box.

"Clark..."

He kneels before you, the snow catching in his dark hair, his breath clouding the air. Your hands fly to your mouth, your heart hammering as you realize what’s happening.

"Y/N," he begins, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "You’ve been my best friend, my partner, my anchor, and my light. Every time I think I know what it means to love you, you prove me wrong and show me it’s even bigger than I imagined." He opens the box, revealing a ring that sparkles just as brightly as the snow around you. "I want to spend every day proving to you how much you mean to me. Will you marry me?"

Tears prick at your eyes, and for a moment, you can’t speak. The words catch in your throat, but you don’t need them. You nod furiously, dropping to your knees in the snow to kiss him, your hands framing his face.

"Yes," you finally manage, breathless against his lips. "A thousand times, yes."

His laugh is pure relief and joy as he slides the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly, and you marvel at how it catches the moonlight.

Clark lifts you effortlessly, spinning you once before setting you down gently. "You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world," he says, his grin wide and unguarded.

"And you’ve made me the happiest woman," you reply, resting your forehead against his.

The snow continues to fall around you as he kisses you again, slow and sweet, a promise sealed under the watchful gaze of the stars. This moment is yours—perfect, infinite, and unforgettable.