ddaisychaser

[ddaisychaser]

Hiii I keep thinking about Clark x pregnant reader and how he would support her early on in the pregnancy(like morning sickness and stuff like that) and how he would react to baby April first kicking in her mom’s stomach later on in the pregnancy. I just feel like it would be so sweet to see how he would take care of his girls.

ah sweet supportive clark, my absolute favorite. thank you anon for requesting! muah!

authors note: i changed it a little if that’s okay to clark feeling the baby kick closer to their due date! hope that’s okay!

warnings: slight allusion to reader being needy for clark, water breaking, mentions of reader feeling sick, and a little swearing. please let me know if i forgot anything!

nobody said carrying a half kryptonian baby was easy. that’s actually funny, because nobody ever has! surprise you’re the first!

clark is in awe with you though. you’ve taken everything like a champ especially with a baby that could potentially come out levitating. you’re at the home stretch, three more weeks and your baby girl will be arriving. clark has taken it upon himself to baby proof the entire house, as well as ‘mom proofing’ everything. whatever that means.

you’re bouncing on an exercise ball in-front of the tv, mindlessly paying attention because clark has been super-speeding around the house like a headless chicken. gary offered to build the essentials, but clark was firm on the belief that he needed to. there’s a half built crib lying on the floor, a baby gate that hasn’t even been brought out of the packaging, and clothes messily thrown into a pile in the corner of your shared bedroom.

you thought clark at first was just excited- and he is. but now, where you can really watch, he’s losing his ever loving mind to the stress. clark is what you would call a… disorganized perfectionist. he so desperately needs everything to be perfect for when your daughter arrives, but geez. superman can’t focus for shit.

“clark,” you try not to raise your voice from across the living room, but you know clark doesn’t hear you. he’s far to deep into hand washing every single bottle you now own. “clark.”

the faucet stops, there’s some shuffling and the sound of the cabinet closing before clark peeks his head around the opening to the kitchen. his glasses are slightly lopsided and there’s a big water stain on the hem of his loose shirt.

“yeah baby? somethin’ hurt?”

you haven’t even responded before clark is abandoning yet another task and making his way forwards you. clark is so lovesick, he doesn’t just simply sit beside you on the couch. no, he kneels down in front of you. placing both large hands around your knees to steady the bouncing.

you feel rather exposed in the moment. only in a pair of granny panties and clark’s old t-shirt that has a tear near the collar. you can’t even remember if you brushed your hair this morning, let alone your teeth. you are sort of in that phase of your pregnancy where everything feels like a chore. getting out of bed? impossible. making breakfast? can’t stand the smell. putting on jeans? heck no!

but clark, your sweet clark, looks at you as if you have hung the moon. round, blue eyes pinch with concern from where he is kneeling before you. tracing soothing circles along your skin.

you reach over to run your fingertips through his curls, tugging on them a bit and his mouth slightly gawks open. his eyes flutter shut in pleasure. oh, it’s been so long since you two have done anything. maybe if you just pull clark in real close…

kick.

not just a kick, a sucker punch straight to your bladder. you’re rereading clark’s hair as if it just burned you, that same hand flying to your stomach. “oof.” and it happens again, you nearly slip right off of the exercise ball.

it’s not clark who steady’s you, it’s now his superman persona coming alive. he’s got his hands gripping your lower waist in merely a second, hovering over you. “what is it baby? are you okay-“ you go to speak and he nervously stumbles over you, “i mean- obviously you’re not okay, but what do you need? i can get-“

you interrupt clark’s rambling by blindly taking his hand and moving it to the spot where your baby girl kicks again. you may be getting wwe slammed right now by a literal infant, but clark longs to feel every part of you. especially if that part is with your baby girl.

“she’s-“ he chokes out as his eyes widen. “she’s kicking. she-she hasn’t kicked very much since-“

“i know.” you lean in to press your lips right smack in the center of clark’s forehead, shushing him sweetly. you allow your lips to linger there, your bodies dangerously close. your daughter fights out a few more kicks that make you borderline sick, but you hold on for clark. because deep down he needed this grounding.

that everything is going to be okay.

clark leans back, hand still resting over the swell of your belly, and there’s tears brimming his lash line. “you’re amazing,” he breathlessly smiles, “you’re perfect, so perfect, you’re going to be the best mom ever.”

clark has so many compliments to give, you don’t think he will ever stop. you’ll receive them happily forever. but right now, you suddenly feel… wet?

you look down, mouth parting open.

“clark.”

“is she kicking again?”

“um, no. i think she’s…she’s coming?”

“YOUR WATER BROKE?!”

[ddaisychaser]

hi!

just a little fyi, i know i haven’t been here long but, life is starting to get a little hectic for me! which means i wont be posting as much. i am however gonna finish out some requests i have gotten bc i couldn’t live with myself if i forgot about them! i did close my ask box however just to ease off some of the stress in my life. thank you for understanding!💗

[ddaisychaser]

“‘cause my love is mine, all mine.” my love mine all mine, mitski

a teeny tiny gift to all over the baby fever lovers

please, please, please give credit if you re-use! thank you!

[ddaisychaser]

i feel like hannah montana when i open tumblr. this truly is my second life (being an insane and delusional fangirl)

[ddaisychaser]

first off i want to say i have really enjoyed your writing!! it is always more than pleasant and enjoyable to read!! is there anyway you could write about dad!clark when april is older and about to go to a dance with a boy and he gets protective? or maybe a father and daughter dance recital? or even where the reader is a kindergarten teacher and april is in her class and clark makes a visit as superman? i am just craving your writing!! literally craving dad!clark from so bad that this is the first time i have EVER put in a request for anybody's writing!! Do not feel pressured to write this!!

Thank you, Much Love!! - honey

you are the absolute sweetest!! grown up (she’s literally gonna be five in this) april is going to make me sob & i literally wrote her not even a week ago. our little girl 😭😭

also i wrote this in the car with a little motion sickness so i apologize for the mistakes! (anything for you guys, literally)

clark has fumbled with his tie at least six times- actually, nope. now it’s seven. for being metropolis’s most beloved superhero, clark kent is a nervous reck. all because of a father and daughter dance sponsored by april’s elementary school.

you’re leaning against the doorway that enters into the bathroom, dressed down into your favorite cotton pajamas, watching as clark grumbles under his breath and rub his hands anxiously through his once neatly done curls. “clark, honey,” you say sweetly, “do you need help?”

“no, no.” clark brushes you off with the wave of his hand but then realizes how that may have been rude. you didn’t take it that way, but clark cares so deeply about everything and everyone.

he sighs, dipping his head downwards as his hands grip the bathroom counter. he then turns to you with a pleading gaze, you move like a magnet towards him.

“clark,” your hands rest easy on his chest before they begin fussing with his tie. your voice is as gentle as the soft humming coming from the wind outside. “there’s no need to be worried. you and april are going to have a great time.”

clark bites down on his bottom lip, like there’s an argument on the tip of his tongue but it’s useless. because you’re right. you’re always right. clark just wants this night to go well. is that too much to ask for? apparently so, because april’s been in this phase where she thinks she is more older than she is. wanting to wear makeup, talking about boys, and even called clark by his first name. he almost had a heart attack.

she’s only five, but in clark’s eyes, april martha kent is still his babbling baby girl who made friends with everyone at the grocery store.

when you finish his tie, clark is quick to pull you closer. large palms cupping your hips as his face tucks in the joint of your neck. without thinking much of the gesture, it’s a memorized motion on how your hand lifts to cup the back of his neck. toying with the curls at the nape.

“she’s growing up.” clark mumbles sadly into your neck, the hot breath prickling your skin. “don’t want her too.”

you laugh, there’s no real harm behind it. you’re pulling clark’s face away from your neck and cupping his cheeks with both hands. “i understand, i want her to stay tiny forever too. but, how lucky are we that we get to watch her grow up into such an amazing little girl?”

clark pulls his head up slowly, his entire frame crouches awkwardly to meet your eyes. then his lips curl upwards, it’s a sight you’ll never get tired of. “yeah,” he whispers, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. “we are so lucky, aren’t we?”

and then he kisses you, it’s like the first time all over again. the gesture is so feather-like you feel like floating. every touch, every kiss, every word, clark thinks it through with the most precise care because it’s you. his wife. the mother is his child. his everything.

there’s a soft pitter-patter that comes from down the hallway and bursting into your bedroom. you don’t have to think twice about who it is.

“mommy! my dress isn’t poofy enough!”

you give clark a knowing, playful, look before turning around. your daughter is dressed in a sparkly, baby pink colored dress that nearly swallows her whole from all the tulle. but, she picked it out herself and was so proud. “i look like a a princess mommy!” she cheered after trying it on. you clutched onto that little pack of tissues like your life depended on it that day.

you kneel down before her, ruffling and soothing out the wrinkles in april’s dress. “well, we certainly can’t have that.” you coo, going the extra mile to fix april’s hair. she’s got wild, jet black curls like her dad that need to be restrained by a matching headband.

there’s a stunned silence behind you, you can feel it too. as you fix up april you slowly get out of the way so that she can twirl and present herself to clark. “daddy, look!” april closes the gap, skipping into the bathroom and wraps her arms around clark’s thigh. “i’m a princess!”

clark looks at you as if he just saw a litter of golden retriever puppies for sale. (the quite literally definition of this 🥹) and has to brace once hand on the bathroom counter to steady himself.

“oh, sweetheart, you look extravagant.”

april glances up at him with curiosity. “ex-tra-va-grant?”

clark nods, soothing down the one piece of hair that sticks awkwardly upwards on april’s head. “yeah, you got it.” he scoops her up like it’s nothing and april places her tiny hand on clark’s shoulder for support.

“daddy!” she squeaks, “don’t ruin my dress!”

clark sneaks you a teasing glance before he’s attacking the side of april’s cheek with kisses, she giggles loudly. “i promise sweetheart, i’l be soooo careful!”

[ddaisychaser]

over 1,000 notes on baby fever ohmygosh! you all are seriously the best, i can’t even form words bc im bouncing off my seat! eeeee!

baby fever

clark kent’s nearly one year old daughter just simply loves to babble. wonder where she gets it from? (spoiler alert it’s her dad) clark kent x female!mom reader

warnings: female reader and barely proof read (i have being an adult and checking my writing! yippy!) otherwise, if i missed any major ones please let me know!

authors note: when i was working today the cutest little baby strolled by in a cart and was just yapping incoherently with a pacifier in their mouth. i was like period, speak your truth babe! (then i thought about clark kent being a girl dad and i melted)

authors note part two: alsoo little fun fact, in this fic you and clark’s daughters name is april because that was the month that the first superman comic was published!

“da-da.”

“yes angel?”

clark’s scanning over the baby food aisle. those big, baby blue eyes of his mindlessly scan the options. he already knows his daughter, april martha kent, would absolutely throw a fit if she had anything with carrots in it. can’t even mix it with peas or apples- she will know. instead, he reaches for pack of six little jars that have cartoon blueberries drawn over them.

“da-da.”

clark doesn’t look up at first, he’s trying to read the simple font on the back of the packaging to triple check that it’s suitable for his baby girl. but, he doesn’t want april to feel ignored. so with his free hand he pokes her chubby belly.

she babbles repetitively, “da-da, da-da,” and poorly attempts to clap her hands.

nodding along as if he pretends to understand, clark reaches around where april sits in the front of the cart, kicking her sock covered toes, and drops the baby food into the cart. a boyish grin widens clark’s lips, full pearly teeth on display. a lot of what april is trying to say is muffled by the pacifier in her mouth, but clark thinks he picks up on “da-da,” and her attempt on saying blue. however, it sounds more like “ew.”

he crouches down a bit, gently grasping april’s foot and rubs the outer part before pressing a loving peck square in the middle. she squeals, trying to wiggle her foot out of clark’s hold.

“are you ticklish?” clark does it again and april squeals some more. a spill of giggles spew out causing her pacifier to suddenly drop from her mouth.

clark watches it all happen, how april stops giggling. her eyes, identical to yours, widen and her little lips part in shock. it breaks his heart when she starts to shake her head, whining, “no, no, no,” and keeps repeating it as tears start to form.

of course clark can’t handle his baby girls sadness, his heart shatters in half! he scoops up the pacifier from where it’s wet with drool in april’s lap, carefully slotting it in her mouth.

“there, it’s okay angel. daddy’s got you.”

he likes to believe april is thanking him but all she really rattles on is, “bababababa,” and continues.

clark nods along, sort of similar to when perry is talking to him but clark really isn’t listening. he begins to push the cart further down the aisle. “hm, yeah. i see what you’re saying.” he hums in agreement as april goes on. when he stops to put some diapers into the cart, he glances at april. “oh, really? the pacifier just fell into your lap? how did that even happen?”

clark’s trying to be as serious as he can, but it’s so hard when his baby girl just talks, and talks, and talks away like she has all the time in the world. his very own adorable chatterbox; clark wouldn’t give it up for the world.

you round the corner and spot clark with his hands on his hips, staring up at the array of bubble baths. he looks like he’s in deep thought, every now and then turning towards your daughter to reply back to what she’s trying to say.

you hear him go as you inch closer, “you know, what’s the point of pacifier’s if they won’t stay in your mouth? i know, it’s crazy.”

“what are you two talking about?”

clark perks up at your voice, his head whips towards you so fast that his glassss nearly topple off his face. he pushes them up clumsily with his finger before he smiles at you. “oh, you know, how pacifier’s are a cheap scam in this economy.”

you arch your eyebrow, unable to hide the toying smirk on your lips. “really? and i’m guessing april told you all of that.” at the mention of your daughter, she stops her babbling and looks up at you. already squirming to get in your arms and of course you obey. the two of you perfectly fit like the right set of puzzle pieces.

clark shrugs innocently, “said it all herself babe, should have heard her. she was quite passionate.” he leans in to press a loud, smacking peck to april’s cheek and she bashfully hides her face into the crook of her neck.

“you know where she gets it from?” you begin to sway from one foot to another, soothing your giddy daughter that won’t stop moving in your hold. trying to squish her face further into your neck.

clark smirks, already knowing the answer. but he can’t refuse to hear you recall his playful tactics before april was born.

“you. ever since i got pregnant, every night you would talk to my stomach even when she was the size of a peach.” you dip your chin to kiss the top of april’s spouting curls, then turning back to blush at clark. the way he stares at you makes your heart skip a beat. you know he loves to hear your retelling. “and i think that’s why she loves to talk. because you do it oh-so much.”

clark leans in closer to you, crouching down so that the two of you are face to face. a step closer and his nose might brush the tip of yours. even his voice lowers, it’s deeply sweet like honey. “is that so?”

you nod shyly, clinging to april as if she might shield the heat rising across your entire face. “but, i don’t mind.”

“you don’t?”

you shake your head and then finally, clark kisses you with perfect ease. there’s no one else in the aisle, or even at the grocery store at all. that’s why you let the kiss linger for a second or two, otherwise you would hide away from the public display of affection. clark knows that. he respects it too. the two of you live a private life for the sake of your daughter.

the world knows superman is married to you, but they don’t know where you live, what you do, or even your maiden name. and they most certainly don’t have a clue that april exists besides your closest friends and family. it’s quiet the life you and clark live outside of the rambunctious adventures superman finds himself in. your very own pocket of peace. perfect.

when clark pulls back, he eyes april staring between the two of you. clark whispers as his hand reaches up to brush away the few curls that fall over april’s face. “hi baby.”

“da-da.”

“yeah, i know angel,” clark’s gaze flickers to your own. a look personalized for you that reads, i love you to the moon and back, before he draws his attention back to april. “we got a little more shopping to do, but why don’t you tell mom your new idea for pacifiers. i think she would love to hear about it.”

[ddaisychaser]

do you guys still wanna be my friend after i tell you that my username is a ship name i made for me and james potter a long time ago…

[ddaisychaser]

can you write about dad!clark when april’s sick? maybe something where he panics because the reader’s not home yet, and he doesn’t know exactly how to take care of sick kids because he never gets sick.

authors note: my first request yippy! thank you so much, i absolutely adore a comforting sick fic ᢉ𐭩

warnings: baby crying and having minor sick symptoms. mentions of reader throwing up.

it started with the tiniest sneeze clark has ever heard before in his life. it was adorable until he registered that it came from his baby girl, who appeared as if she had gotten struck by lightening. the sneeze had nearly took her out, staring wide eyed at clark before another one had erupted.

clark should have known, he really should had. april had woken up squirmy and fussy this morning. she clung onto you like a koala and threw an absolute fit when clark tried to feed her green beans. she normally loves green beans! and when you left tonight to go out for your best friend’s birthday (which took a lot of convincing from clark because he knew you would much rather stay home with april. but, when was the last time you had gone out?) april cried for an entire hour until clark finally gave up a smidge and allowed another thirty minutes of tv time.

first came a sneeze, then a fit of coughs. clark quickly scooped up april from where she was sitting upright on her baby mat and gently patted her back. rocking april back and forth as he soothed, “it’s okay angel, it’s okay.”

she sniffles, tucking her flushed face into the crease of clark’s neck as if it will swallow her whole. the gesture makes clark’s heart swell. yet, his chest tightens in panic. clark’s never gotten sick before, he quite literally can’t get sick. although, he’s taken care of you before.

your first date had completely gone wrong. the two of you planned to go out to dinner, take a walk along the riverside, and maybe share a frozen treat. you woke up that morning however toppled over the toilet seat, unable to keep anything down. you texted clark, for sure believing he might hate you for doing this, but you were wrong. he immediately came over with grocery bag’s filled to the brim with an array of items for chicken noodle soup, a blanket, and hot chocolate. the two of you watched the entire saga of the star wars universe while cuddling close to one another.

you like to think you ruined your first date with clark, but he would disagree. that was the best first date he ever had.

but, april isn’t an adult. she’s an infant, small but mighty. this is the part of parenthood clark feared the most. he could do it, take care of april that is, but clark didn’t know where to start. she was burning up in his hold.

clark snatched his phone from the coffee table, still rocking april as she began to let out little pained whimpers, and hesitated to text you. there was a little part of clark that wanted to prove to you that he could do this by himself. he didn’t want to ruin your night. although, clark knows deep down, you would be more upset if you didn’t tell him.

so clark quickly typed out, ‘hi baby, hope you are having fun! teeny tiny problem, april’s got a fever brewing right now. she’s starting to cough and grow fussy, i’m gonna see if it progresses further before taking her to the doctors- BUT STAY OUT! HAVE FUN! I HAVE THIS TOTALLY UNDER CONTROL I LOVE YOU!’

clark nodded to himself clearly pleased. that was a totally chill message, right?

april lifts up her head from clark’s shoulder, her eyes squinting and cheeks burning a deep red. clark tries not to smile, because you and april have the same grumpy looking face. it’s adorable to him, just maybe not when his baby girl is feeling sick.

“how about a bath?” april shakes her head no, tears starting to clumsily form against her lash line. clark’s already treading over to her nursery. “okay, maybe not a bath even though i think you would feel much better if you did-“

april starts to cry, a full on mini mental breakdown. clark can understand, being this little and feeling awful must suck. especially when your immune system isn’t all that developed. but, clark hates to see his baby girl cry. especially over something he can’t fix right away.

he bounces her gently in his hold, walking in literal circles around her nursery. “i know baby girl, i know. i’m so sorry you feel this way, i promise ma-ma and i are going to nurse you back to feeling better.” april’s cries grow louder, she clawing at clark’s chest. trying to pull at his tangled curls. clark grows impatient, what is he going to do?

“okay, okay,” he rushes out anxiously, walking over to april’s crib. “let’s try this, alright? it might be a tight squeeze but-“

clark places april down in the crib, she screeches at the lost contact, but clark is quick to place one foot after another in the crib. he curls tightly into a ball, for his rather muscular frame it’s not the most comfortable, but april seems to suddenly find herself crawling up his chest. she’s already dimmed her crying into quiet sniffles, resting her cheek right over his beating heart.

“there,” clark whispers, craning his neck awkwardly due to the unfair fit of the crib, to press a kiss to april’s forehead. he can feel himself starting to doze off while rubbing april’s back. “daddy’s got you babygirl. gonna get you feeling better in no time.”

later that night as you rushed home after getting clark’s text, of course traffic was awful, you find your husband uncomfortably snuggled in april’s crib. the two of them snoring in harmony and you can’t help but feel so incredibly lucky.

[ddaisychaser]

wow. posted clingy about an hour or two ago and came back to tumblr with 99+ notifications. you guys are just as horny as me!

[ddaisychaser]

clingy

clark always thought he had the whole superhero thing down… that was until he became a father to a very clingy baby daughter.

warnings: fussy baby, clark sort of going through it because he quite literally got ran over by an alien aircraft, and a teeny tiny bit of angst. if i forgot anything please let me know!

author’s note: you guys have been eating up baby fever so of course i had to deliver more! thank you for all of the support and if you have any more ideas for dad!clark i would absolutely love to hear!

you’re cooking dinner in the kitchen while april bounces in her jumper, gnawing on a teething ring like her life depends on it. she’s been awfully grumpy lately- you can’t blame her. teething must suck, especially when she’s waking up every hour of the night because of it.

the floor rattles a bit with a heavy thump that comes from your balcony, followed by the glass door sliding open. you don’t hear it at first, but your daughter does. you think she has some sixth sense when clark arrives home. today was like no other, an alien threat had been made on metropolis and of course superman was the first one to arrive on the scene. you don’t even bother to watch the news report it anymore. the stress is too much to handle and you don’t want april to get any ideas of what her daddy is getting up to when he’s not around.

however, you hear april whine over the fizzling that comes from the stove where you’re stirring a pot of broth in. quickly, you shut off the stove and round the corner of the entrance towards the living room. april is either whining because she’s bored of the teething ring or clark is home. today, it was both.

the teething ring gets discarded on the floor as april stomps her padded feet on the ground. she cries, “da-da!” as clark fully steps into the room. your expression falls.

clark looks beat. and not in the way your smutty fantasy books describe the male protagonist looking awfully beautiful after nearly getting beaten to death. something about a man bloody, bruised, and on his knees… good lord. but, your real life husband appears as if he got ran over by an alien aircraft. honestly, he might have.

with the sun gone, clark can’t heal as fast. there’s a nasty bruise beginning to form right underneath his left eye, a nasty cut across his upper lip, and his curls are all mussed. crusted with dirt and leaves. neither one of you speak because your daughter begins to grow oh-so impatient.

“da-da!”

clark softens a little, but there’s still a knot of tension you notice he’s holding between his shoulder blades. he limps- yes, limps towards your daughter and hesitates to pick her up. clark looks down at his hands, they are covered with dirt and scabs.

“i-“ your heart shatter’s as you watch from your spot leaning on the doorway as clark stutters over his words. you can practically hear the tiredness and desperation in his voice. he crouches down to april’s height, “just give me one second angel, daddy has to wash his hands. i promise-“

as clark moves, your daughter lets out piercing shriek. he comes to an erupted halt, eyes flickering to yours in pure panic.

you frown, smiling sadly at clark. “go ahead baby, i’ll bring her to you.” you whisper. it’s a little hard to hear over your daughter’s cries and clark looks like he wants to deny, but he can’t. because he is so filthy right now.

clark mouths, “i love you,” before rushing off into your shared bathroom.

your poor, sweet, angry teething daughter probably thinks her dad is abandoning her again. but, you’re quick to reassure. you scoop april out of the jumper, bouncing her on your hip as she claws at your sleep t-shirt. (it’s not yours actually, it’s clark’s. but, he’s never minded- actually, clark insisted you are more then welcome to wear his old, smallville t-shirts from when he was back in high school)

“i know baby, i know,” you coo, treading over to the master bedroom. “how about we sit on the bed and watch some cartoons while we wait for daddy? does that sound okay?”

if your daughter could talk, she would probably say, “heck no mom, i want to see dad now! who cares about stupid cartoons!” honestly, you wouldn’t blame her if she did. but, april can’t talk really, so she sniffles and whines. trying to escape from where you have gently laid her on the comforter and have to keep reeling her back to safety.

when the shower head turns off, april’s head perks up like a puppy hearing the word treat. you hold her upright, leaning down to press a kiss on the side of her chubby cheek. “daddy’s coming out real soon. i promise.” you whisper, and on cue, clark comes out of the bathroom.

he’s got a towel loosely draped across his hips, giving full display of his bare chest. his hair is slick and damp, a few curls come draping across his forehead and you want nothing more then to push them out of the way. he smiles softly, it doesn’t quite reach his cheeks, but you know he cares. clark cares so deeply even during his toughest hours.

your daughter topples out of your hold around the same time clark is sitting on the edge of the bed, lifting april up into his arms. she immediately curls against his chest, head resting against his shoulder, and cries for what you think is relief now that she is finally in her dad’s arms.

clark glances over at you sheepishly as he rubs soothing circles on april’s back. “i’m sorry.”

your eyebrows pinch together in concern, “clark, honey, why are you sorry?” but he doesn’t need to say, you already know. he does this every-time he comes home from saving the world.

you scoot closer towards clark, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder before your lips find the connection between his ear and jaw. it’s a feather light kiss, but enough to let clark know that you are here, healthy, and present. the touch makes his eyes flutter shut for a second before your reeling back. face to face.

“you don’t have to be sorry for doing good,” you whisper, lifting your hand up to tuck a curl behind his ear. “all i care about is that you are putting your health first and doing what’s right.”

“i should be here.” he’s not trying to fight back, he is pleading.

you rest your hand underneath his jaw, dragging your thumb slowly across the line. tilting your head slightly to get a better look at clark. “as much as i would love for you to be here all the time, that would be selfish. you have a whole population that relies on you and adores you, clark. and i know deep down, you love every second of it.”

april lets out a quiet snore, adjusting herself in clark’s hold. you both glance at her in awe, how perfect your little girl is. you rest your head on clark’s other shoulder, the one that isn’t preoccupied by a very sleepy april.

“i’m sorry you had a rough day.”

clark shakes his head, resting his chin on the top of your scalp. “eh, it was nothing. just another galactic slime ball that ran me over with their ship.”

you snort, “so, you did get run over by a ship.” lifting your head, you find clark with a puzzled grin. you bite down on your lip, trying not to laugh mainly because you don’t want to wake up april who has finally settled down. “when you… you walked in i thought you looked like you got ran over by a ship.”

clark tilts his head back with ease, his chest shaking as he tries to fight back the laughter. you are quick to cup his face and reel it back towards yours. “you still look handsome!” you say quietly through giggles, “you just- you just had a tire mark across the side of your neck. it was a… little rough looking.”

clark smirks, lifting april further up his chest as he nudges his nose against yours. “but you like that, don’t you?” and when you blush profusely, clark chuckles. “i love you, you know that? more then anything, which is why i will always come back to you both. always.”

“of course i know clark. i’ve always known.”

[ddaisychaser]

eeee thank you lovebugs for all of the recent support on my superman fic’s especially baby fever!

this whole publishing my work thing is very new and vulnerable for me. honestly, who knows how long i’ll be doing this but right now i’m so down bad for clark kent and i need everyone to know lol. my ask box is open btw! if you want a request i’ll take a peek at it, can’t guarantee tho if i’ll respond to it right away bc your girl is a busy bee. (two jobs + school. yuck!) but, if you want to simply say hello, that’s totally cool with me!

i mainly write female reader (that’s what i’m most experienced with) and i’m not opposed to writing smut, but it’s a teeny tiny insecure spot for me. depending on the request, i’ll take a crack at it! although, fluff and a little bit of angst is always welcomed. i also do mood-boards and i love doing them!!

just remember that i’m human, i have boundaries, and i’m a sensitive cancer sign who’s feelings get hurt easily ❤︎ love you all

xoxo, ddaisychaser

[ddaisychaser]

baby fever

clark kent’s nearly one year old daughter just simply loves to babble. wonder where she gets it from? (spoiler alert it’s her dad) clark kent x female!mom reader

warnings: female reader and barely proof read (i have being an adult and checking my writing! yippy!) otherwise, if i missed any major ones please let me know!

authors note: when i was working today the cutest little baby strolled by in a cart and was just yapping incoherently with a pacifier in their mouth. i was like period, speak your truth babe! (then i thought about clark kent being a girl dad and i melted)

authors note part two: alsoo little fun fact, in this fic you and clark’s daughters name is april because that was the month that the first superman comic was published!

“da-da.”

“yes angel?”

clark’s scanning over the baby food aisle. those big, baby blue eyes of his mindlessly scan the options. he already knows his daughter, april martha kent, would absolutely throw a fit if she had anything with carrots in it. can’t even mix it with peas or apples- she will know. instead, he reaches for pack of six little jars that have cartoon blueberries drawn over them.

“da-da.”

clark doesn’t look up at first, he’s trying to read the simple font on the back of the packaging to triple check that it’s suitable for his baby girl. but, he doesn’t want april to feel ignored. so with his free hand he pokes her chubby belly.

she babbles repetitively, “da-da, da-da,” and poorly attempts to clap her hands.

nodding along as if he pretends to understand, clark reaches around where april sits in the front of the cart, kicking her sock covered toes, and drops the baby food into the cart. a boyish grin widens clark’s lips, full pearly teeth on display. a lot of what april is trying to say is muffled by the pacifier in her mouth, but clark thinks he picks up on “da-da,” and her attempt on saying blue. however, it sounds more like “ew.”

he crouches down a bit, gently grasping april’s foot and rubs the outer part before pressing a loving peck square in the middle. she squeals, trying to wiggle her foot out of clark’s hold.

“are you ticklish?” clark does it again and april squeals some more. a spill of giggles spew out causing her pacifier to suddenly drop from her mouth.

clark watches it all happen, how april stops giggling. her eyes, identical to yours, widen and her little lips part in shock. it breaks his heart when she starts to shake her head, whining, “no, no, no,” and keeps repeating it as tears start to form.

of course clark can’t handle his baby girls sadness, his heart shatters in half! he scoops up the pacifier from where it’s wet with drool in april’s lap, carefully slotting it in her mouth.

“there, it’s okay angel. daddy’s got you.”

he likes to believe april is thanking him but all she really rattles on is, “bababababa,” and continues.

clark nods along, sort of similar to when perry is talking to him but clark really isn’t listening. he begins to push the cart further down the aisle. “hm, yeah. i see what you’re saying.” he hums in agreement as april goes on. when he stops to put some diapers into the cart, he glances at april. “oh, really? the pacifier just fell into your lap? how did that even happen?”

clark’s trying to be as serious as he can, but it’s so hard when his baby girl just talks, and talks, and talks away like she has all the time in the world. his very own adorable chatterbox; clark wouldn’t give it up for the world.

you round the corner and spot clark with his hands on his hips, staring up at the array of bubble baths. he looks like he’s in deep thought, every now and then turning towards your daughter to reply back to what she’s trying to say.

you hear him go as you inch closer, “you know, what’s the point of pacifier’s if they won’t stay in your mouth? i know, it’s crazy.”

“what are you two talking about?”

clark perks up at your voice, his head whips towards you so fast that his glassss nearly topple off his face. he pushes them up clumsily with his finger before he smiles at you. “oh, you know, how pacifier’s are a cheap scam in this economy.”

you arch your eyebrow, unable to hide the toying smirk on your lips. “really? and i’m guessing april told you all of that.” at the mention of your daughter, she stops her babbling and looks up at you. already squirming to get in your arms and of course you obey. the two of you perfectly fit like the right set of puzzle pieces.

clark shrugs innocently, “said it all herself babe, should have heard her. she was quite passionate.” he leans in to press a loud, smacking peck to april’s cheek and she bashfully hides her face into the crook of her neck.

“you know where she gets it from?” you begin to sway from one foot to another, soothing your giddy daughter that won’t stop moving in your hold. trying to squish her face further into your neck.

clark smirks, already knowing the answer. but he can’t refuse to hear you recall his playful tactics before april was born.

“you. ever since i got pregnant, every night you would talk to my stomach even when she was the size of a peach.” you dip your chin to kiss the top of april’s spouting curls, then turning back to blush at clark. the way he stares at you makes your heart skip a beat. you know he loves to hear your retelling. “and i think that’s why she loves to talk. because you do it oh-so much.”

clark leans in closer to you, crouching down so that the two of you are face to face. a step closer and his nose might brush the tip of yours. even his voice lowers, it’s deeply sweet like honey. “is that so?”

you nod shyly, clinging to april as if she might shield the heat rising across your entire face. “but, i don’t mind.”

“you don’t?”

you shake your head and then finally, clark kisses you with perfect ease. there’s no one else in the aisle, or even at the grocery store at all. that’s why you let the kiss linger for a second or two, otherwise you would hide away from the public display of affection. clark knows that. he respects it too. the two of you live a private life for the sake of your daughter.

the world knows superman is married to you, but they don’t know where you live, what you do, or even your maiden name. and they most certainly don’t have a clue that april exists besides your closest friends and family. it’s quiet the life you and clark live outside of the rambunctious adventures superman finds himself in. your very own pocket of peace. perfect.

when clark pulls back, he eyes april staring between the two of you. clark whispers as his hand reaches up to brush away the few curls that fall over april’s face. “hi baby.”

“da-da.”

“yeah, i know angel,” clark’s gaze flickers to your own. a look personalized for you that reads, i love you to the moon and back, before he draws his attention back to april. “we got a little more shopping to do, but why don’t you tell mom your new idea for pacifiers. i think she would love to hear about it.”

[ddaisychaser]

masterlist ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

superman

clark kent and his ditzy weather reporter girlfriend

baby fever (dad!clark kent x female!mom reader)

clingy (dad!clark kent x female!mom reader)

dad!clark taking care of his sick little girl

dad!clark getting ready for the daddy-daughter dance

baby fever series moodboard

dad!clark feeling baby kick

marvel

bucky barnes and his lavish french girlfriend

manchild moodboard with john walker

[ddaisychaser]

clark kent and his ditzy, girly, little weather reporter girlfriend have been living rent free in my head.

warnings: reader is literally just a girl, mention of clark wanting to get swallowed by a black hole, i’m sorry if your name starts with an s just pretend briefly it doesn’t for this blurb! brief description of readers chest slightly being out. alsooo not really proof read, not really sorry, but kind of sorry?

authors note: hiiii! this whole blurb thing is sort of new to me and idk if i’m going to be doing more. but, unfortunately i’m so down bad for clark kent i needed to do SOMETHING about it lol. however, if you want more pls send me something in the little ask box and i’ll take a peek! thank you lovebugs and enjoy ‪‪❤︎‬

clark kent is just in awe of his girlfriend. every little thing she does he just stares with cartoon hearts beating out of his eyes. and gosh, you make him laugh. it’s not mean laughter, it’s pure adoration. because you’re so authentically you! so adorably, bubbly, perfect you.

he watched the weather channel from where it sits high above his desk at the daily planet, chewing the middle of his wooden pencil. (it has to be wooden because mechanical pencils are “just so difficult” as he once passionately expressed.)

you’re standing in-front of the evolving green screen that showcases a slight thunderstorm rearing into metropolis later tonight. the microphone is held steadily in your hand, you chat away vibrantly.

“and so, as you see here-“ you wave your manicured hand towards the pixelated red blob that migrates closer to where metropolis is. “that’s like a lot of thunder coming in. honestly, probably the most we have gotten in awhile. last thunderstorm totally cut out all of my power, it was awful. i was in the middle of taking a shower too!”

some critical viewers may write nasty reviews on how you talk too much; clark finds it endearing. you speak to the audience like you both are long time friends, making it personable and humorous. that’s why you have stayed with metropolis news for so long because this new generations loves you. (not as much as clark though, obviously.)

and oh, your outfits. clark can’t stray his eyes away from the flimsy, ruffled, baby pink colored blouse you wear. it shows a bit more cleavage then what’s maybe appropriate for a broadcasting channel, but how could clark say anything when you look just perfect. it’s paired with a matching skirt (you’re obsessed with matching sets. once telling clark, “it’s like so easy to figure out what to wear in the morning!”) jewelry is one of your favorite accessories, bedazzling earrings and bracelets that clink together when you wave your hands. clark’s favorite is the teeny tiny s you wear around your neck.

clark remembers when he gave it to you on your one year anniversary of being officially together. he gave a big ol speech across the dimly lit table at the restaurant, his voice was wobbly and high pitched from nerves. he squeezed your hands so tight that halfway through his trembling declaration of love, your nose scrunched.

“clark, you’re-you’re squeezing my hands too tight.”

he apologized profusely, over and over again until your face lit up with laughter after he made a joke about sweating through his ironed white button up.

when he pulled out the velevt case, you gasped. both hands flying to your cheeks. “ohmygoshohmygosh-“ you rambled. clark nearly had a heart attack from the way you almost tumbled out of your seat from excitement. “yes! yes, i’ll marry you!”

clark’s mouth dropped.

you shoved your left hand practically in his face. he hadn’t even said a word nor opened the box. “put it on! put it on!” you squealed.

of course clark wants to marry you, more then anything in the world. guilty nausea crept up his throat when he knew inside the box was definitely not an engagement ring. but, you were so excited. the entire table shook with how fast you were tapping your heels against the floor like a puppy anxiously prancing for a treat.

he swallowed, “um,” clark had to choose his words carefully. he gently placed the box down beside him and took ahold of your hands again. your expression hadn’t faltered one bit and it killed clark inside.

“baby-“

“clarkkkk,” you dragged on, playfully rolling your eyes. “i already said yes silly! no need to get so serious.” a little giggle slipped past your lips and clark prayed that a intergalactic black hole would swallow him whole in that very moment. you were so fucking precious.

he nod’s slowly, “i…i… i don’t have a ring.” clark watched as your face quickly faltered, he waited for the slight crease between your brows to form. the dramatic pout of your bottom lip to jut forward. but, none of that happened. all you did was simply blink like a fish out of water.

“don’t get me wrong angel, i will propose to you and we are going to get married. just…just not today.” your breath hitches barely and clark almost flings himself across the table. literally, his large, muscular frame is haunching across the table to physically get closer to you. “you’re the only woman i want to have a future with, you’re my everything baby. and i-i’m sorry that i got your hopes up, i just wanted to-“

he fumbles with the box, opening the lid and showcasing the small pendant. that’s when your face finally falls into a pout.

“my name doesn’t start with an s…” your eyes glance from the necklace then to clark’s face for what feels like five times in a row. it’s like a puzzle you can’t seem to solve, why would clark give you a necklace that wasn’t even your initial? tears start to blur your vision and your voice comes out sort of whiny, and sniffly, and confused, and- well, maybe just all three combined.

clark moves so fast, he clumsily knocks the open bottle of wine. but those metahuman reflexes quickly reach out to grasp the neck of the bottle before placing it on the table. his big hands cup your cheeks. “it’s an s for superman baby, so you know that i will always come home to you. no matter what.”

you give out a small, breathless, “oh” before the realization hits you like a truck. your eyes light up, sticky from the former sting of tears. “oh! oh clark, that’s just the sweetest thing ever.”

after you begged for clark to put the necklace on, you claimed you never wanted to take it off- and you haven’t. clark still remembers the relief that eased from his shoulders and how he couldn’t wipe that dopey grin off his face after seeing you look so proud to be his girlfriend.

on the way home, walking hand and hand back to your shared apartment, you innocently looked up at clark with those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t refuse. “you’re still going to purpose to me soon, right?”

clark leaned down and pecked the top of your forehead. “oh yeah baby, it’s going to be absolutely epic. just you wait.”

[ddaisychaser]

i just know eddie munson is GRIEVING over ozzy osbourne right now. my heart hurts from him.

[ddaisychaser]

bucky barnes dating the most lavish, perfect, and stylish french girl but when she gets upset he can’t understand a fucking thing she is saying.

poor guy is running his hands through his hair, he might as well just rip it out at this point. because you’re standing across the kitchen island, a wooden spoon in your hand, a frilly dainty apron on, and dinner is about to overspill from the boiling pot. you point the wooden spoon at him, then the wall, and then the fridge- his cyborg mind can’t keep up with your frantic movements. let alone the french curses you’re yelling.

his face drops into his hands and groans. you guys aren’t really fighting. but he muttered something, stressed from today’s activities, and it ticked you off.

“pourquoi tu ne m'écoutes pas?!” (in my poor google translation, it says why won’t you listen to me?!)

now, bucky was brainwashed (fuck hydra) and trained to fluently speak multiple languages, but his mind just absolutely blanks when you stare at him like a wild woman on a rampage. bucky picks out a few words that he was able to catch like why and me. maybe you said something about the weather? or maybe it’s about how he accidentally shrunk your favorite jeans in the washer? did he eat all of your ice cream again?

finally bucky looks up, haunched over the kitchen island and those steel blue eyes nearly pop out of his head. “i don’t know what you are saying doll.”

bucky has good intentions, he’s not upset with you. he’s just trying to understand. but, the exhaustion in his tone sounds irritated.

your eyes go wide and your mouth slightly parts open. it’s thick silence for a second, then a minute and two. bucky thinks your about to cry.

“doll-“

“es-tu fou!” (are you crazy!)

you start going off again and waving that damn wood spoon around. bucky leans back in his seat, arms folded over his big chest, and simply watches. the bulge hiding beneath his tight jeans twitches.

bucky may be fucking tired, but his girlfriend was hot. even when he didn’t have a clue what she was saying.

[ddaisychaser]

“man-child! why you always come a-running to me?”

(feeling feral while thinking about cowboy!john walker and his uptown girlfriend)

please give credit if you reuse! thank you angels :)