TOO GOOD FOR ME ★ CLARK KENT
꩜ pairing ━━ fem!childhood bsf!reader x clark kent
꩜ summary ━━ everytime you remember your life, clark is always there, and now after everything came crashing down, clark thinks he has loved you from the very start.
꩜ content ━━ 3.3k words | angst, fluff, confessions, reader is a bit oblivious, clark calls her 'honey', ma and pa call her 'peach', they grew up together in smallville, LOIS AND CLARK AREN'T DATING, lois kinda have feelings for clark but she didnt do anything with it, i just wanted to put an extra pov!
꩜ a/n ━━ HI!!! introducing my fav trope, i loved writing this so much i hope yall like it as much as i do <33
as always comments are very deeply appreciated ♡
masterlist | navi | buy me kofi <3
You and Clark are really close.
No one really asks how close but even from a distance you can tell.
Growing up together is Smallville with a superhero as a best friend was not the easiest, but, oh, you would not change it for the world.
Because it’s Clark.
The first person who stood up for you in front of bullies, who shares his lunch because ‘sharing makes the food taste better', who was your first ever best friend, who picked you up with his parents’ truck after you got shitfaced at a party, who entertains your weird ideas on how he can use his superpowers. Clark, who shows up.
Okay, maybe you are thinking twice right now considering that you almost got stuck in a portal to a pocket universe.
Your heart is beating out of your chest, as you stared at the portal in horror. You could hear groaning from the other side, seeing Clark laying on the floor, heaving.
“Clark,” you rushed to him, hands softly placing itself on his cheek. His skin feels sweaty and he looks pale, there’s black veins emerging from his neck, “Kryptonite.” you whispered, hands cradling the sides of his face as his tired eyes try to stay on you.
A lazy smile stretched on his lips, “Hi.” dazed eyes trailing over your face, “You here to rescue me?”
Scoffing, you lightly shove his chest back, grin threatening to be released, “You’re lucky I like you, Kent.”
He smiles. Your heart calms down a bit.
Suddenly he springs up, body still weak as you try to keep him upright, “There’s more people being held prisoner in there.” he breathes out, “We need to go get them.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”
“Hey, hey,” your hands grabbing his bicep and torso, “Are you insane? You can’t even stand up.” you scold, holding him up from falling flat on his face.
“Get him some place safe.” Mr Terrific turns to you and Lois, “Take the T-Craft.”
Nodding, Lois grabs the other side of Clark to help, the three of you walking towards the vehicle. “Krypto!” you call out, “Come on boy.”
Lois looks at you, surprised, “You know the dog?”
You scrunched your nose, “Kinda.” looking to see if the fur baby is following, “He’s a menace tho, so be warned.”
The three of you enter the ship, dropping Clark onto the seat, “You know how to drive this thing?” you asked Lois, leaning forward to assess the countless buttons and levers.
“Should be fine,” she looks up at you from the driver seat, “Right?”
You give her a pat on the back, “I trust you.”
A shaky smile was given, “Okay, let’s do this.”
.
.
.
The ride was shaky but everyone is still in one piece so that’s something.
You turned to look at Clark.
He looks awful.
You don’t mean it in that way but he truly does.
His skin is all wrinkly and pale with black veins decorating the sides, his eyes tired and his body shivering. The sight makes your stomach twist in all the wrong ways. Not the usual way it does with Clark.
Lois was still driving, every bump and swerve of the vehicle made you more nervous than before.
“I’m gonna be fine.” the man beside you croak out.
Your heart stutters, “I know.” sighing deeply, voice betraying any sort of confidence you have.
Clark coughs loudly, body shaking in his seat. You jump up, unbuckling yourself, “What’s wrong? You okay? Do you need water? I’m gonna get you water.” your nervous rambling trails off, moving with shaky legs as rummaged through your bag.
The sick man grunts, “Sit down.” he gruffly said, droopy eyes trying to stay on you as his hand reaches out, but the kryptonite poison is still very strong and the absence of the yellow sun made it worse in every way imaginable.
His tiredness took over as his eyes shut and arm flails down.
You sigh, listening to his movements, your own hand reaching out for his. He immediately intertwined your fingers together while you still try to find a water bottle. You gave his hand a squeeze, his fingers weak and loose around your own, “Gimme a sec, yeah?”
He grunts. You take that as a yes.
You unclasp your fingers, continuing to look through your very full bag and maybe this is your mind playing tricks but you could hear him let out a small whine with the absence of your hand.
You didn’t even realise the curious look Lois sent to you both.
“Found it.” you try to stand up but the ship swerves aggressively making you latch onto Clark’s seat to stabilise yourself, the man’s hand that was too weak to bring up, grips around your waist to steady you.
“Sorry.” Lois said from the driver seat, guilty for being distracted by the interaction between you both.
“It’s okay!” turning around, you open the bottle of water, hand on Clark’s jaw to help tilt his head up, “Drink.” you softly said, bring the water to his chapped lips. His tired eyes flickered open slightly, and even from far away you could see how it softened at the sight of you.
Obvious to everyone, but you, apparently.
The man ended up finishing the whole bottle, gulping it down so fast that he chokes.
You chuckle, “Slow down, Clark.” taking the bottle away, and putting it in your bag. You wipe off the stray drops of water that fell on his chin and neck, “Knew you were thirsty.” and shook your head, hands resting on his jaw, feeling his hot skin under your touch. Your heart sinks.
“’m gonna be fine.” he coughs out again, weak hands trying their hardest to latch onto your waist. His hold is not strong, but with the way his body is, you assume this is the strongest he can do. He tries as if he craves the contact, the feeling of you right here in front of him. Warm, soft, real. It brings comfort to him.
You bring comfort to him.
“Still worried.” you say, sitting back down on your seat and buckling in. The worry never leaving your face.
“Hand.” he quietly requests.
Your stomach flutters but goes went along, your hand reaches out to hold onto his. He’s still weak, his grip not strong but you can feel how hard he’s trying to reciprocate.
You would give him your hand as many times as he wants.
.
.
.
The ride wasn't long but it felt like days when you finally reached Kansas. The whole time was filled with Clark’s shaky breaths and heaves, and it didn’t make you less at ease.
The sight of the small town from the air tugs on your heart strings, memories of growing up flashes in your head. And every single one of them, Clark never fails to be there.
Him, and his shy smile, dazzling dimples and his big heart.
You didn’t even know what would’ve happened to you if he wasn't there.
The aircraft finally lands, you rushing to help Clark stand up, “Ma! Pa!” you frantically yell out, just as the door opens. Supporting one half of Clark as Lois helped with the other side, feet a bit wobbly with his weight, he was not light in the slightest bit and you can’t even remember the last time Clark was this weak.
You miss the way Lois turned to you, eyebrows scrunching, deep in thought. Ma and Pa? Really how close are you with Clark?
“Peach?” Martha comes rushing out, John following behind.
“It’s Clark, he’s sick.” you beg tiredly, eye bags illuminating your worry. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes as everything comes crashing down. Kryptonite is not something to underestimate.
Martha's eyes widened, as she nodded her head, “Okay, honey. He’s gonna be okay.” she softly said, guiding you all back to the house.
The smell of the house reminded you of your childhood, good memories that you don't have time to dwell on. The four of you slowly lay Clark down on his bed, his hand immediately reaching out for yours, as he started to babble.
“Ma, they sent me here to rule over. They sent me here to kill people.” he voice shakes.
The sight shatters you.
You look away and turn to John, “I’m gonna get some towels and water. Is it still in the same place?”
He nods, “Yea, Peach.”
You quickly walk to the kitchen grabbing the stuff as the parents crowded over their son in worry.
Lois’ eyes survey all over Clark’s room, his childhood room. Posters, trophies, awards, pictures all filling in the space. Her eyes zeros on the Mighty Crabjoys posters, noticing the small frame picture on the shelf at the side.
It was a undoubtedly a picture of the two of you. Younger versions. You're on Clark's back posing in the famous Superman pose with one arm out like you’re flying, as the boy carrying you smiled so brightly she could see his missing teeth as he carried you with pride.
“I got it.” you come back to the room with warm water in a bucket, towels already submerged and a cup of water in the other hand. You got to work, making sure Clark is comfortable as he absentmindedly nuzzles closer to you, head already lolling out of consciousness.
Lois stares from the side, eyes softening when she realises how much stress you are in. She underestimated how close you were with Clark because this type of care must've taken years to build, to strengthen.
Her eyes stray away to the bedside table, 2 picture frames neatly placed. One is his Ma and Pa and the other one is undeniably you. Just you.
You look a bit older in this one, maybe 2? 3? years younger than you are now. Smiling like you won the lottery, you’re wearing an apron and the background looks like the kitchen she saw when walking in, your hand messy and so is your hair, there’s flour residue on your nose and you look…happy. That’s the only way that she could describe it as.
So so happy.
And Lois assumes only Clark can make you smile as big as that.
.
.
.
The morning sun feels nice on your skin.
It had been a rough night, the constant worry if Clark will wake up healthy claws in your chest, planting seeds of anxiety. You had slept on the couch, waking up at random hours of the night to make sure his chest was still raising up and down.
When Clark woke up he felt like he had been reborn. He feels stronger, lighter, his vision is clearer and he’s breathing better. His eyes immediately met with the furball that laid comfortably on his chest.
He sighs softly, hand reaching up to scratch behind his ear, “Hey bud.” after a few seconds of staring up at the ceiling, he slowly stood up, walking to the living room only to be met with the sight that made his chest ache. Your sleeping figure illuminates under the sunlight, creating a halo that makes you look like an angel.
And maybe that’s what you are to Clark.
His guardian angel.
Feet pattered against the floorboard, he crouches down to be eye level with your head, fingers grazing along your cheek with such light touch you thought it was just in your dreams.
“Thank you for looking after me.” Clark quietly whispers, staring at your features for a long second, eyes taking in everything. You look peaceful, he thought. Good. You deserve it.
He kisses your forehead, adjusts the blanket layered on top of you. He recognises the fabric immediately,l. It’s your blanket. The one in his house that’s stored and bought specifically for you when you would have a sleepover at the Kents.
You’re intertwined in his life in so many ways.
Now, Clark has changed into more comfortable clothes, a bowl of cereal in hand as he sits on the bench outside soon accompanied by his Pa.
“That– that Luanne, she seems nice.”
“Lois.” Clark corrected, “Her name’s Lois. Yeah, she’s- she’s nice.”
John nods, head turning to look at his son before a fond smile makes its way to his face, “You worried Peach to death you know?”
Clark freezes, guilt gnawing at his ribs, “Yeah.” he pauses, “Sometimes I wonder how easy her life would’ve been if she didn't meet me.” his voice is low and scratchy.
The older man furrows his eyebrows, “Oh, don’ be like that Clark. You guys are attached to the hip. Quite impossible to separate you two.”
Clark doesn’t meet his eyes, “I don’t deserve her, Pa. She’s too good for me.” hands nervously fidgeting as he thinks about everything he put you through.
The silence stretches, and now John understands what Clark was putting down, “You’re a good man, Clark.” he starts, “I saw you both grew up together. Trust me son, no one in this world deserves her more than you do.”
Biting the inside of his cheeks, Clark sniffles, “I don’t know what happened, she’s my best friend and then I woke up suddenly and saw her, and I wanna be more for her.”
John chuckles, “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? Everyone knows you have a crush on ‘er.”
His cheeks went warm, “No, you guys don’t.”
The door creaked open, “Clark!” you exclaim, running towards him. He whips his head around at the sound of your voice and stands up immediately, bowl forgotten as he wraps his arms around you, face nuzzling into your neck.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” you sigh, arms tightening around his neck.
His arms reciprocated, lightly lifting you up from the ground, “I’m okay.”
For a moment you two stayed like that before the little bubble was popped by Martha’s news, “Clark there’s something on the box that you might wanna see.”
Clark furrows his eyebrows, looking at his Ma before turning to you. He detach you from his grip and walk back into the house with your hand in his securely in his.
It’s different from when he was on the ship. This time he’s more warm, his rugged fingers sending shiver down your back.
John stare at you both and roll his eyes, “Sure we don’t.” a soft smile on his face.
.
.
.
You’re beyond exhausted.
This whole week has been nothing short of stressful and the near-death experience on top of that made you want to curl up in your bed –that was lucky enough to survive the portal rip– and sleep for days.
You’re freshly out of the shower, hair still dripping wet, skin smelling like strawberry body wash and you’re drying your hair, towel in hand when the doorbell rings. You check your phone for any current messages, nothing new popped up making you confused. You pause the movie that was playing and look through the peephole.
Clark on the other side is sweating bricks, flowers tuck behind him as he stares down at your door.
“Clark?” your voice lace with confusion, “What’re you doing here?” opening the door.
The man coughs out his nerves, glasses perched up on the bridge of his nose, his hair looking soft and bouncy and he’s dressed in a sweater that makes him look huggable and warm. Your heart flutters.
“Hey.” he mumbles, soft eyes casted downwards to you, “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was gonna show up but,” he brought his hands up, “I bought your favourite.”
Your eyes lit up, only now recognising the familiar smell of chicken and pasta. Your stomach grumbles, “Oh, why didn’t you lead with that then.” snatching the paper bag from his hand and leaving the door open.
The man chuckles, moving into your space as you make your way into the kitchen. Now he has the time to fully take you in. You're humming in joy, pajamas making you look soft, eyes pretty in the kitchen light.
Clark could feel how at ease you are, and that makes him feel at ease too, “You look happy.” he teases.
A selfish part of him was glad he’s the only one that can see you like this. He’d be damned if anyone else does.
You giggle, unboxing the food, letting out a happy shriek as the smell invaded your nostrils, “How can I not? My favourite person brought my favourite food!” your grin stretched out so big it hurt your cheeks.
Clark swallows nervously. The flower that he’s been hiding behind him suddenly feels heavier.
“I actually have something to tell you.” he walks closer, standing behind as he waits for you to turn around.
“Hm?” you looked up to meet his eyes. Backing away slightly when you realise how close he was, “You okay?” the rustle of the paper the flowers were wrapped in took your attention away, “What’s that?” your smile teasing, “Is that for Lois?”
Clark groaned inwardly. For the smartest person he knows, you sure are pretty dense.
He shakes his head, “No, these are for you. Why would it be for Lois?”
You tilt your head in confusion, “Why would you get flowers for me?”
If you weren't looking up at him so pretty right now he would’ve lost it. But you smell sweet, your eyes are shining and your cheeks are round and pink. He couldn't even be mad at you if he tried.
“Honey–” his fingers press against his temples, “Just take the flowers.”
You nod dumbly, “Oh– okay.” you take it from his grasp, a small smile on your face, staring at them in awe, “They’re lilies. My–”
“Favourite.” Clark finishes your sentence, eyes staring at you earnestly.
“What’s really going on Clark?” you questioned, putting the flowers on the side.
The tall man stopped fidgeting and let out a deep sigh, “You have been the most constant factor in my life,” he starts, “from when we were kids, teens and now adults. You have always been there. You believed with me when no one else will, you stayed by my side and I can’t imagine my life without you.” a pause, “And I love you.”
You melt, “I love you too, Clark.”
He groans, “No– I mean, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Goddamn it. I am in love with you.” he pants out, frustrated, “I don't know when it changed but according to Pa, I have always had a big fat crush on you and apparently everyone knows.” he shrugs, “And you’re so beautiful, your kindness blows mine away and I want to be there for you, always. Will you let me be your boyfriend?”
His speech spills out in nervousness, the back of his neck is hot and there’s sweat prickling his hands.
You stand frozen, taking in his whole confession. A part of you cannot believe this is even real, the Clark Kent wants you. The person you have been harboring feelings for God knows how long, likes– no loves you.
“Clark, I– uhm,”
His heart drops, “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I completely understand and respect that.”
“No! No, Clark, it’s just–
“I’m not trying to push or force anything on you or–”
“I’m just new at this!” you explode, panicked eyes looking up at him, “I don’t really know how to do this, no one has ever really liked me let alone confessed.” mouth opening and closing as you try to find the words to say, “What if I’m bad at this? What if I make you hate me and you don’t wanna be friends anymore? I can’t live that life!”
Clark’s warm hands rests on your jaw, bringing your head up closer to him and he leans down, voice serious, “You’re gonna be great at it. You wanna know why?”
“Why?” your voice muffles as he squishes your cheeks together.
He kisses your nose, “Because I love you and you’re great at everything you do. Especially being my girlfriend.”
Giggling, you place your hands on top of his that are on the sides of your face, “So you made the decision for me, huh?”
He stutters, “No! I– I mean, do you– you want to? Be my girlfriend?”
“Mhm.” you nod.
“Mhm?”
“Mhm!”
Clark laughs, gorgeous dimples making an appearance, “Kiss?”
Your stomach fills up with butterflies, “Yes, please.”
The moment your lips touch Clark is like a starved man drinking water for the first time in a while. He groans lowly, skin hot under the sweater. His hands are everywhere, gripping places he always dreamed of.
You are what he’s always dreamed of.
“My angel.” he whispers into your mouth, damn near whimpering when you pull his hair, “Wanna grow old with you. Wanna do everything with you.”
You giggled, "Want that too." his stomach burns with need. Picking you up to the counter, situating himself in between your thighs.
Smiling lips press against each other, Clark can't help himself from feeling giddy as his big hands grip your thighs, "Can't believe I can have you all to myself. Been thinking about this for so long." he backs away, taking you in, your lips now swollen and red, "You're so pretty. All mine."
reblog for a superman style kiss 😘
