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Kent Fam of 3 Masterlist

Dad!Clark Kent/Pregnancy Recs

Clark Kent x reader Urgency series 5/5

Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader | Wc: 3.1k

Summary: Clark looses the other half of the man he was, finding the contentment as Clark Kent with the support of you along the way.

Warnings: Angst, Clark losing his powers, mentions of blood, being shot, hope and comfort at the end! Main Masterlist | Kent of 3

Notes: Inspired by My Adventures with Superman season 3 episode 5&6 so spoilers in this read if you plan on watching the show! DON’T READ THE WARNINGS IF YOU PLAN TO WATCH!

You knew Clark's powers and the extent to which he could go—especially as they grew stronger. 

The two of you began to notice how his powers charged more strongly when it came to the people he loves, who fell into risks that could endanger them. His eyes flashed an icy blue instead of red—he never knew the answer to them and began to research within the fortress, yet no answers were found yet.

But no one ever talked about the risks he faced once those powers were used.

And it happened too fast, too much of an instant. 

The battle within Metropolis was heavy, dust filling the air, as you lay on the ground, helpless. Hurt. A cyborg Superman named Hank took on the duty of destroying the city, a command from himself, Lex. Clark left on the other side of the road from you, helpless himself, as the heavy kryptonite laced throughout his body, nearly and closely killing him.

The battle was left brutal. The cyborg Superman that had a heart of kryptonite to fuel him, lasers filled with the toxic stone that shot at him over and over.

But the moment he was faced was something that frightened him to his bones. You were helpless, hurt,  as the laser was pointed directly at you. Ready to end your life.

His blood was boiling, fighting off something that overpowered him, yet he pushed. Pushed through over and over, staring at your body that lay on the ground, moments when you were about to be blasted. “Argh…No, NO!!!” he roared, his eyes that glowed an icy light blue, a certain power that rarely is shown, until it came to you.

The speed was indescribable, faster than he had ever flown, ripping right past the arm of the blast, ripping the arm off of Hank. 

“Y–You ruined my LIFE!” Hank screamed, his eyes in pure frustration, raising his only hand up to swing directly towards Clark before he caught his arm with one hand, before taking the other hand to bring a blow into his chest.

“YOU DON'T GET TO HURT MY FAMILY! YOU…YOU DON’T GET TO HURT HER!” Clark boomed, the pure anger that was never shown on Clark, ever. The pure moment where Hank crossed the line.

Out of anger, he ripped the kryptonite heart with one hand, clenching with his power that it shattered into thin air, “The future is for EVERYONE!” he said in acceptance, before Hank fell to the ground, Clark following as well. His eyes were left with a blur, his DNA that almost turned…Black

The sluggishness he felt, the battle that left everyone in the city to hide, yet he found you a few feet down from the street, pushing yourself up with all your might, until Clark came stumbling towards your direction, dropping to his knees as he brought you into his arms. “Hey, hey, I got you—we're okay,” he assured with a soft grunt of discomfort that left his lips.

And through your own pain, you knew he was hurt too. “C-Clark y-your hurt,” you worriedly said as you took your two hands to cup his jaw softly, taking note of his dull eyes that were filled with fog and pain.

Before resting your forehead with his, “Are you okay?” Knowing him like the back of your palm, you sensed something was wrong and it worried you endlessly.

He took your hands in his, mustering up the courage and right words from the events that happened moments earlier. “Sweetheart—after the fight something happened…I–I can’t be Superman for you y/n.” his voice cracked around its edges, holding everything in for you. 

“I–I can’t feel my powers anymore.”

The following week was quite tense as is.

And Clark seemed—off. No matter how much you assured him, how he was still with you, present in this very moment.

Nothing seemed to work.

Metropolis Grand Gala. Every reporter within the building, reporters from every other city, all coming together into one event. Celebrating the grand awards within the city, where Superman was expected to win an award tonight.Where Clark wasn’t able to be present to fulfill that gap and accept the award.

Stepping out of the car with the help of Clark lending a hand silently, you stood, fixing your light blue silk dress with a hand as you smiled back to him, taking note of his blue tie that paired with your dress.  “Are you ready for that award tonight?” you softly said before straightening his tie that lay slightly crooked, while moving a small curl back that hung a bit low at his face.

His face contorted into a forced smile, yet you saw it through him “U-Uhm Clark doesn’t have an award tonight.” 

“Clark you still earned it and—”

“Clark!!” Emilia shouted, her 9-year-old self barreling towards him with her 3 other friends around the same age. “Wow, you're still just as tall!!” she squealed before making it a mission to slowly climb up his shoulders.

“Hey Em, oh my gosh—Ow!” Clark reacted to the small tug of his hair when she finally made it up his shoulders. “I’ll see you inside sweetheart?” meeting your gaze, with a small awkward smile.

And you agreed. Giving him the space and time he needed. You never wanted to push it, but letting him know that you were there.

The Gala was big, alright.

The extravagant ballroom, the shiny, crystallized chandeliers that dangled above every few feet away from each other. A few conversations here and there with fellow reporters, until Lois found you a few feet away. “Hun you look stunning!” she exclaimed before bringing you into a hug, then pulling back. “Smallville was probably starstruck, wasn’t he? Did he come with you tonight?”

Questioning, “Oh- yeah, he said he’ll meet me inside—maybe he’s at the table. Do you know where we're sitting, Lois?”

“Of course cmon–” as she took the lead to go through the crowd, where you followed right behind her. And there was your Clark, chatting with Jimmy, until he saw you. The small smile that was reserved just for you, the starstruck moment as he took the moment to take in your beauty through his lenses once again.

Making your way over to the table, you lowered yourself to the chair beside his, taking his hand into yours. “You okay?” you whispered over, stroking your thumb at the back of his palm in comfort.

“Of—Of course. You look beautiful sweetheart,” replying back before pecking a quick kiss to your lips.

You still didn’t buy it, yet you took the affection, giving it right back. But the ceremony began. Perry came on stage, thanking everyone in the room, until Clark knew Superman would be brought up very soon.

“I–I’ll be right back, gotta use the restroom!” he whispered loudly for the table to hear, before silently making his way up awkwardly, squeezing your hand one last time before quietly making his way out of the ballroom.

You hoped he would be back soon, wouldn’t he? He had to. But yet time went by until Perry was about to announce Clark’s award for Superman. 

And he wasn’t here yet.

“I’m gonna look for Clark real quick if that’s okay,” you whispered over to Lois and Jimmy, as they gave you a nod in understanding. Lois knew the loss Clark endured, expected the same worry you had in his absence; as she knew it wasn’t her business to be in, knowing it was between you and him.

Rising up from your chair, you quietly dismiss yourself as well, quietly stepping away from the table. Making yourself farther and farther from the stage, as all you heard was Perry presenting the award.

“Unfortunately, Superman couldn’t be here tonight….”

“Kids? Kids!” he voiced loudly, walking down the halls, scoping the area of where they were. Knowing how kids were just kids, but also his heart just knew he always had to check up on them.

“If only I had superhearing,” he murmured to himself quietly, the small frown that flashed throughout his features, the guilt that he had been carrying.

His powers were just…Gone like that. Part of his identity that was ripped from him; he couldn't figure out who Clark was. Was he enough? Enough for you now? He can’t protect anymore. The city that needed him, where they questioned his whereabouts.

Until a shout pulled him out of his trance of thought.

“Get away from us!”

Emilia.

“Emilia!” he shouted before running down the halls directly to the source of the sound, his mind wishing he could get there any faster. As he turned around the corner, he was met with a situation that he didn’t want to face. A guard, with a gun pointed directly at the kids.

It must have been a spy, some type of intruder that came into the ballrooms.

Without hesitation or thought, he pushed his way in front of the kids, one arm trying to cuddle the kids in a tight bundle behind him, the other facing outwards towards the guard. “Don’t touch them!”

Then the barrel of the gun sounded, ready to fire, and then Clark came to a gut realization.

His powers.

“Clark?”

You made it around the corner, taking in the sight of the situation that made you freeze.

The guard snapped his head towards your direction, and it happened fast. Shots rang. One towards you, hitting part of your shoulder, a small graze as the bullet didn’t aim anywhere else besides the wall. The pain burned as you tumbled towards the ground on your knees in a sharp gasp.

And that's when he made his move. “No…NO! KIDS GET DOWN!” he shouted before tackling the guard to the ground. A few fires were made, striking Clark right into his bicep. The moments of the tense brawl ended with the punch that was thrown to knock the guard out cold.

Checking over towards the kids, then meeting over to your direction broke pieces of him in this exact moment. You were hurt. He couldn't save you from it.

“Sweetheart!!” he yelled before skidding towards you on his knees, the crimson blood that was dripping down your arm slowly staining the light blue dress that you wore. The man he once showed hope for failed you. Failed the kids.

“Hey, Hey, we're okay–he’s taken care of; we gotta get you to the hospital,” he ushered before taking off his white long-sleeve button-up, leaving him in a white tank that was underneath. “Gotta stop the bleeding.”

His voice cracked around its edges, his eyes blazing in agony, trying to hold everything together, and it worried you even through your own pain. “Clark your shot,” you winced, seeing the red blood ooze out of his forearm, staining his clothing in the as well.

“I’m okay sweetheart we gotta—”

“We have to stop the bleeding on yours first, Clark,” you interrupted back, your stubborn self far forgetting anything that happened to you, as you finally set your foot down from your own husband's groveling.

And he couldn’t argue with you. How can he in this situation?

But even if your priority came first.

Taking part of his white sleeve, he rips one part off before swiftly wrapping the cloth around your shoulder, his fingers delicately shaking across your skin. Tightening the cloth around the wound, a jolt came from you as you groaned, wrapping your hand around Clark's as you tried to calm yourself from the pain.

“I know I know I’m so sorry.”

And as quickly as he could, Clark ripped the other side of the sleeve, taking it to wrap the piece around his upper bicep, using his teeth to pull on the cloth to secure it in place as best as he could.

“Will…You guys be okay?” a small voice came from the corner, Emilia’s voice.

His head whipped towards the corner, as he never knew his heart could break even more from the situation, let alone the sight of you, Emilia, and the rest of the kids cornering themselves across the room.

His hand raised, reaching out, counting each kid in his mind, checking on each one if they were hurt. “Kids–are you guys alright?” 

“Clark! You're hurt! She–she's hurt too!” Emilia cried out, shaken to say the least. And Clark couldn’t blame that. No kid should experience violence like this, and yet he failed to prevent it from happening.

Intervening in the conversation, you turned your head over to Emilia, your eyes that was filled with reassurance and tears from exhaustion. You tried to help lessen the situation for the frightened kids. “Hey—Hey sweetheart it’s okay were all okay,” you told Emilia, wincing again before you stood with Clark, helping to lift each other, leaning on each other out of support.

“You guys get back to ballroom, okay? Tell Lois that an intruder came from the back doors, let her know it’s taken care of. So that the security can make double rounds around the venue. We—We have to go to the hospital,” softly saying in defeat, his shoulders slumping in the process.

And that was the night.

The quiet drive to the hospital.

The worries you had that were left on Clark.

He was quiet. Too quiet throughout the drive, throughout the hospital, and even when the two of you finally made it back to your shared apartment. He was unraveling, and yet you stood there watching, unable to help.

Where both injuries were marked as okay. The bullet that grazed you, but you were relieved with his. The bullet that didn’t go deep, where tweezers, stitches, and carefully wrapped bandages sat snugly on his bicep.

You stood near the closet, accepting Clark's help quietly as he unzipped your now dirty dress, tossing them into the hamper nearby. Taking your soft satin PJ set that hung on the hanger as he helped you shimmy them onto your body.

“Clark—I just want to talk,” you pleaded, slicing through the silence that cut across the bedroom. His knees bent lower as he was helping you into your shorts, while you took hold of his shoulder to balance yourself.

“Honey let’s just talk about this tomorrow,” he cut in, his voice laced with no emotion, and that was it for you. You had to help him; you had to know. Time was given, but it was hurting you, the man who was tearing himself piece by piece as you watched from the sidelines.

“Clark! I–I just please let me in, Clark. What happened? You were quiet ever since the battle with Hank; you stopped him, you saved me, but I thought you knew that you saved yourself too,” you asserted, the question that loomed over you as you were left in pure confusion the past week.

And you saw the tears that brimmed his eyes. The man who had once held himself high was breaking in front of you in the very moment. “I didn't do anything—I didn’t save you, sweetheart. You were hurt during the battle, you were hurt tonight, and I wasn’t able to save the kids from seeing what they saw,” his voice raw, a tear that ricocheted down his cheek slowly.

Turning around as he couldn't meet your gaze, his back was faced against you, holding himself together so he wouldn't completely fall apart. And you slowly gave the space in between the two of you in respect. His voice wavered, “All I did was get shot. Metropolis needed a hero, and all I can give them was…Clark Kent.”

“I love Clark Kent, I love you,” you stated softly. Truthfully. That was your truth. The man with or without the cape, he was your hero. The man who held you during nightmares. Made your coffee every single morning. Peeled your oranges for you in acts of love; you could continually mention more if you really wanted to.

The small things that made him so—great.

“Well… he’s no Superman,” as he lowered his head down towards the ground, his tears that started to free-fall towards the carpet.

The sight of his trembling shoulders hurt you, yet you didn’t wanna close in the space when he might not want to be touched, wanting to reach for him, to bring him into your arms. “Clark, you can’t spend the rest of your life comparing yourself to someone you may never be again.”

It was a hard truth. Something hard to hear, a little jab to his side, yet he knew you were right. But the hurt still jabbed deep in him.

“And what am I supposed to do! Who am I supposed to be?” as he shouted, turning around towards you, his tears in full display to you. “I—I don’t know who I am anymore for anybody,” he choked out, his hands flying to his face in shame, in fear.

You took the chance to bring him to your arms, his arms encasing your waist, bringing his head towards your neck in comfort, the full sobs that were left within your neck, the opposite side from your injured shoulder.  “I—I’m sorry I shouted,” he sputtered out, before another wave of emotions came over him.

“Hey—Shhh honey it’s okay, you're okay,” you comforted, one arm on the broad of his back, your hand rubbing vertically in comfort; as the other massaged his head softly, raking in the soft curls.

“Clark, look at me,” you ushered softly, tapping the side of his jaw to let him meet your gaze. 

And the sight broke you. His eyes red and slightly puffy, meeting your gaze. And what you saw was something more than Clark Kent. Someone who was still highly as special.

Taking both your hands to cup his face, your eyes came closer to his, “Clark…you saved all of us. As much as you didn't think of it. You saved me before Hank could kill me; you saved the kids from getting hurt. I just ran into the situation without knowing, it wasn't your fault.”

“But I—”

“No buts. You show the symbol of hope every single day without the cape too. You show up every single day, for me, for others, for even strangers. Your heart is kind, so beautiful that nothing ever stops you when things go wrong, cause you come in determined and upright,” you truthfully said, reaching a hand towards his heart, his hand encasing the back of your palm with it.

“Your heart is what makes you the hope for you, for me. The heart that gets to love me every single day, and I don’t want to lose you over it, Clark.”

And the shutter from his breath, you reached in to lock your lips with his, passionate yet secure as he returned the kiss back over. 

Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against yours, “Thank you.”

Humming in acknowledgement, he reached into your lips again, savoring every moment of you, where the presence of your calmness helped him from the noise that became quieter in his head. 

Because maybe Clark Kent was enough.

———

Note: Okay now. My theory these last 2 episodes on why he lost his powers is based in the comics how he used up all the solar radiation in his body, thus how he overrides kryptonite, and looses his powers temporarily? Let’s hope he gets them back for ep7😭

Taglist: @clarknsun @tw1sters @kryptidfiles @anon-188 @orobaxis @theworstwolvie @dailyplaneteditor @mayathebeez @anqclove

Thank you for the tag @heldbybarnes !! Some pics from this summer so far, can you tell I love taking pics of my food 😅

No pressure tags: @kryptidfiles @orobaxis @danitecx @theworstwolvie @thceseus

Can we talk about EP5 the Death of Superman? Like omg? Clark using all he has to save reader, where then he looses those powers.

Or in EP6 when they’re at the gala, and Clark jumps in front of the gun for the kids, but reader comes out from the corner and the guard shoots reader instead. Maybe a shot to the leg, or something. Where Clark grovels that Superman wasn’t there to save you when your life was on the line. Where his powers was still gone, leaving him hopeless that this happened to you. The guilt that floods him, helpless where his sense of identity was gone, yet you reassure him that he would get hurt too from the gun if it went off on him.

I’ve heard in the comics it’s him using all the solar radiation he has in his body to fight off the kryptonite, where his powers is temporarily gone. But comes back to him later on and that’s what I really hope happens in this season

Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader | Wc: 900

Notes: Currently at her concert the moment this is posted hehe...Inspired by Olivia Dean's Art of Loving album!! Check out my masterlist and Kent Fam of 3 masterlist!!

Summary: The art of loving between you and Clark. The beautiful moments of loving.

Warnings: Fluff, Clark and readers' beautiful and difficult moments, small mention of the passing of a sibling, yet 2 lovebirds loving each other through everything <3

Meeting Clark was one of the best moments in your life, you would say. Two kids, the boy who helped you with a scrape on your knee at the playground in kindergarten. The boy who told you it’s okay when tears rushed to your eyes from it.

The care and compassion that sparked between the two of you. Something so beautiful, yet you couldn’t exactly point out this feeling. Where love comes in all different forms, and you were ever so grateful you got to experience every single one of them with your forever lover.

The love he had for you since crossing paths with him in the playground, loving you for who you are, as he got to grow with you, experiencing the great moments, and yet the hard moments.

And he still loved you through it.

Moments of achieving an exam, or getting into the dream job you wanted. Where he supported and cheered you on. “I’m proud of you always sweetheart always,” he said lovingly before kissing a small peck to your temple, a proud grin on his face that he got to celebrate with you. "Italian tonight?"

"You know too well, Smallville," before reaching into his lips in a fits of giggles.

Or when grief took over, he was there when you lost your sister. Being there in every moment to make you meals when you forgot to eat, or when silence filled the air, he was there to talk about his day, to help you feel that you weren't alone in your own thoughts.

As he took the time listening to you when you wanted to ramble about how you felt, and always opened his arms whenever you needed a shoulder to lean on, even just to cry. Wanting to take away your pain, to do anything to ease you.

"I got you, I got you," whispering soothingly, letting you cry it out, knowing how grief shouldn't be kept in. His hand rubbing up and down your back, reassuring you it's okay to cry it out, where it shouldn't be shamed upon.

But it went the same for him. His awards from high school—where you were there for him within every ceremony, cheering and supporting him within the crowds. His eyes that land on yours proudly. Happily.

And moments when he discovered his powers. His fears and questions—but you loved him through it. Through the questions, through the learning. “I still love you, Clark. You're just as human, I’m with you in this, I promise okay? I’m proud of you,” as you brought him to your arms, holding him closer for him to know you're not going anywhere.

Where that itself helps him keep doing what he does, because you were proud of him.

When he finally asked you to be his. He was nervous. Cause Superman never gets nervous, right? But with you, it was different. Someone he loved to the point he couldn't speak. His love for you bloomed more and more when your eyes caught his. Just the farmboy who always tripped over his shoes with you.

And you were bubbling with so much love. Knowing you wanted him just as much, where you knew he was only just nervous. 

The planned date on the other side of town, the small diner that you mentioned briefly one time, the one you always wanted to go to. 

And he remembered.

Pink lilies in one hand, as he was met with you when your front door opened, being beautiful as ever. Your light yellow sundress, the softness of your skin, your eyes that glimmered with love just like his. “U-Uh hey,” he said nervously before composing himself. “These are for you,”

“These are beautiful Clark thank you,” as you took the flowers from his hand, then reached in for a hug of thank you for his kindness and for his love that he continually poured for you. But also for the love you had for him, too.

His cheeks blooming into a pink hue, a feeling he would never get sick of. “Anything for you.”

And throughout the years of loving each other you had a hidden surprise you always dreamt of. Something that shook you to the core one night. The pregnancy test that lied on the bathroom countertop, your tears that washed over you in joy.

 Clark catching  you in the bathroom, noticing your tears, the worry until his eyes shifted—to the test. His heart fluttering in joy, looking back at your gaze for confirmation that if he was seeing thing’s right. “R–Really?”

“Y-Yeah I–I can’t believe it were having a baby,” you hiccuped in between tears, the joy that washed over you in the best way possible. Before presenting the test closer to him. “Another one to share the love too.”

His heart that warms up, as his tears reflected yours, wrapping his arms around your waist to lift you up in bliss. Spinning you as you both giggled through the tears, his lips capturing yours. “I love you always, thank you for letting me in your life, for trusting me in everything,” you murmured against his lips.

“Golly I love you much more—and I can say the same for you honey, so much more. Thank you for believing in me,” he said before going back to connect his lips with yours once more.

Where loves never wasted when it was shared between the both of you, and more love to share to your future family.

That was the Art of Loving.