I'd like to (pretty please) request romantic yandere headcanons for Superman/Clark Kent.
Clark, crushing on his fem darling at the Daily Planet, decides to try being cute and romantic by writing an anonymous love letter at her desk. But when she sees it, she gets annoyed and throws it away because she assumes it's a prank from someone else?
"Tch. Really? If someone's gonna prank me, they could at least care enough to be original while doing it."
And then by the time she DOES find out it's him, she feels INCREDIBLY bad about it and keeps apologizing (lol)
I know this one is specific so you don't have to do this one if you don't want to. Thank you for reading!
(Sorry if this breaks any rules or something)
this doesn’t break any rules for me, sweetheart, let me start on it! btw i changed a slight bit about the letter part, instead of it being like anonymous, clark just forgets to write his name.
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Notes: HIIIII, did anyone miss me, anyways this is going to be a Oneshot ..😛 uhh, i tried to capture how clark would genuinely react if this happened irl..anyways, TAG.
Tags: Reporter! fem! Reader x Yandere! Obsessive! Superman/Clark Kent, Slight smut at the end but it’s nothing too nsfw!
P.S THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD!!!!!!!!
Clark was currently at his desk, glasses up, trying to appear as if his legs weren’t shaking up and down, hard enough to probably break the floor, as if he wasn’t on the verge of throwing up despite never being affected by anything.
Clark was nervous, anxious but excited.
Because he finally did it.
He wrote the letter to her.
He passed it on her desk just two hours before her shift started.
He made sure that no one would get near her desk.
His hands had already broken three mouses just in the last hour.
That’s when he saw her walking in, wearing the nost seductive thing he could ever lay his eyes on, her heels clicked sharp on the glossy floor, her hair lingering down her back like waves in an ocean, her eyes glancing around..and he noticed how her usually soft eyes were tight.
___ had a horrible start to her morning. At first, it was simple things, her coffee spilled, her lipliner got smudged, her shirt was wet from forgetting to put it in a dryer, then more, her heel broke just as she put it on, her favourite skirt was ripped, and she barely had anything to eat.
And Clark knew that, of course he would know everything, after all..he listened to her.
Listened to her careful inhales and exhales after figuring out her mistake with the washer and dryer, listening to her mutter curse words that he’d later correct her on when they got together..because they’d have to get together, why would she ever refuse him? but his thoughts twisted back to him listening to the wind in her hair when she finally arrived to Daily Planet.
It was as if God was trying to put the light on her, on her beautiful, gorgeous, and wonderful face.
But most of all, he knew she was pissed.
Which is what made him so nervous, so anxious in the beginning, he thought about just grabbing the letter and sending it another day, but before his thoughts can spiral towards how to get it.
She was already at her desk, her perfect eyes stared down at the letter at her desk.
The letter itself was old fashioned, in an old envelope as if they were in an old movie, it had a wax stamp and most of all, had a heart stamped into the red wax.
Clark was taught to be a gentleman and what’s the best way to be one if not to write a letter?
For the woman of his dreams, his forever love soon to be lover.
Clark watched from the corner of his eyes, he was so happy being barely two desks away from her.
He watched as she paused, her lips parted slightly and she carefully set her bag and jacket on her chair yet remained silent, grabbing the letter she opened it and quietly mouthed the words.
What did she think of it?
Is she going to accept it?
Should he have sent flowers and chocolates?
Why didn’t he send a gift? God, Clark, you can be such an idiot sometimes—
What is she doing? Why is she ripping it?
‘Idiots, if you’re going to prank someone, at least be original about it. Writing a letter? who even does that nowadays..not even a name on it, come on.’
Shit. Clark had forgotten to even write his name, his name.
The one thing to tell her that it was him and not some creep.
But despite the obvious, her words had been nothing but a whisper, not meant to be heard by anyone but Clark heard it.
He felt his chest being ripped out as she threw away the letter he had spent nights on.
This was him, and his devotion towards her!
She should know it was from him, it’s not let he’d ever let anyone else write her anything that was remotely romantic!
Does he let her know? what should he do?
Later that day, ___ got off her shift and had decided to take a walk around her neighbourhood, her work had exhausted her mind and she needed fresh air badly.
Walking around in some pants and sweatshirt, she sat down on a bench and sighed.
‘Hey.’ a voice rang out, causing her to flinch and look back slightly confused but let out a soft laugh.
‘Clark, hey, scared me for a minute.’ She speaks, her voice light and soft, not like how she had ripped up his love letter to shreds.
‘Sorry, mind if i sit here?’ He asks, carefully.
‘Not a problem for me, sit.’ She pats the left side of the bench and he smiles politely, his earlier anger had quickly left upon “accidentally” seeing his darling.
A few minutes of silence pass before Clark looks at her, at her perfect nose, her texture of skin, the colour of her eyes and hair and how her bails were slightly overgrown, and he felt himself unable to concentrate.
‘Say, I saw you ripping something at work, what was that about?’ He asks, forcing his head away because if he looked at her for one more second, he was sure to start begging her for an answer to why she hurt him despite knowing that she didn’t know about who sent that letter.
‘Oh..that.’ She didn’t continue for a moment, Clark was nearly going insane by the silence but refused to ask again, his hands were gripping the armrest of the bench, hard enough to leave his print on it.
‘It was a love letter, i have no idea who wrote it..it was written beautifully, actually but it was just—..probably a prank.’ She spoke softly, letting out a huff of air — not quite a laugh but not a sigh either — leaning her perfect face backwards and up at the darkening sky.
‘I wrote it.’ He spoke, voice slightly shaken.
Everything seemed to freeze as she slowly turned her head to him, and she looked, — really looked — she saw how his ears had gone slightly red at tips, how he was deliberately looking away aa if holding back tears.
‘..what?’ She finally spoke, voice the softest he’d ever heard.
‘I wrote the letter..to you, ___. I wrote it, stayed up nights thinking—..god, and i forgot to put my name at the end of it.’ He rambled, trying to put words together as he quietly and yet carefully looked at her.
‘..Clark—..i..’ She choked on her words, her hands going to her mouth before she leaned closer.
Clark didn’t dare to move away from his darling.
‘I’m so sorry, i didn’t..i didn’t know! i would have never rejected it if i knew!’ ___ felt a huge wave of embarrassment, frustration but most of all a ridiculous amount of anger at herself, the fact she ripped it up where he saw was worse!
She was a horrible person! to the kindest, most caring man she ever knew!
‘I’m so..i’m really, really sorry, clark, truly..i never meant to hurt you if i did!’ She moved closer, holding his hand as if to ground herself as she took a deep breath and looked up at clark, eyes softening more.
Could Clark make her stay like this forever? make her always be this perfectly soft and beautiful, and sweet and so, so apologetic?
‘It’s fine, ___. it was dumb of me—’ She cut him off.
‘No it wasn’t! You went so far out of your way to write a letter for me and i ripped it up because of how frustrating my morning had been! and that’s not an excuse—i’m sorry, i really, genuinely am sorry, can i…’ She paused to catch her breath, her eyes looking at him, like she could see the twisted mind of his, like she knew everything about him.
And he, desperately, foolishly wanted her to know everything, down to how much he wants to take her away, take her to his fam house and make her live here in quiet, peaceful place.
‘Can i do anything? to make this up for you?’ She asked, her hands gripping his.
‘…Can we..could you let me take you out on a date? somewhere nice? please?’ His voice turned soft and pleading at the last word.
‘Yes! and..dont think i did this because i feel bad.’ she immediately spoke.
‘What do you mean?’ He asked, having never even thought of it like that.
‘I mean..like..God, this is so childish of me.’ Her cheeks turned red as she looked away, the wind came blowing down, the moon rushing to light them in its angelic glow.
‘When..i first got into the job..i honestly expected everyone to just be..these dead, miserable people who worked just for the money..but then you came.’
She stopped, gathering her thoughts.
‘And you were this..kind, calm and collected man that—..I wanted to go out with you forever and suddenly when the chance came i blew it and ripped up the letter!’ She ended, her voice raising in frustration and sorrow.
Suddenly she heard a small chuckle, turning her heard sharply where Clark had to cough to fake the chuckle.
‘It’s not funny, Clark!’ She raised her voice slightly.
‘It’s a little funny..’ He looked at her into her eyes and leaned closer, but stopped a few inches away from her and she..slowly and gently pressed her forehead against his.
‘I feel like an idiot and you’re just laughing.’ She mumbled, eyes closed.
‘You’re not an idiot, i didn’t even write my name, how could you have possibly ever known it was from me? besides..you’re giving me a chance.’ He replied, his hand hovering over her cheek before they both leaned in.
Quietly, the moon came in time to shine them in its glow, the world seemed to go quiet as his hand made contact with her cheek, he and she both closed their eyes.
Their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss.
She won’t ever leave him now.
She’s — afterall — his only future.
‘How do you feel about farm work?’ He asked and she chuckled standing up with him.
If she didn’t like farm work, he would do it.
All she needed to do was to rest, cook and be with him.
Hell, she wouldn’t even need to cook.
And she’ll always remain his.
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Notes: this was honestly the fluffiest thing i wrote and i fear it might not be good which im so so so so sorry about, i hope it’s good though! i did add a few things.
Clark forgetting to write his name instead of it being anonymous which i feel like fits his character slightly better?
Her (you) liking him in the first few days you met.
And him telling her instead of her finding out!
And that’s literally it, i rlly hope it’s good..
