tori

The two of you met at a convention meant to allow journalists from major cities to get together. Metropolis, Gotham, Central City.

You were in the bathroom, straightening yourself up in the mirror when she walked in, heading straight to the sinks. Her once ironed, pearly white button up had been stained with spilled coffee.

She was clearly upset, mumbling profanities to herself as she washed her hands and tried dabbing the coffee up with a soaked paper towel.

“Coffee mishap?” You ask, offering her a soft smile.

She looked up at you, brows furrowed in annoyance, but softened when she met your eyes. “Yeah…apparently even conference rooms at conventions aren’t immune to stumbling interns,” she joked, smile laced with irritation.

You laughed at that, drying your hands with a paper towel and looking down at your own sweater vest. “Wanna borrow this?”

Lois looked at you through the mirror before turning to face you. “Are you sure?”

You nod, smiling still. Normally, someone else’s wardrobe malfunction would be their problem and theirs alone, but something about this was different. You understood more than anyone how difficult it was to be taken seriously in this field as a woman. To walk around with a giant coffee stain on your shirt? That was like asking to be poked fun at.

Without further hesitation, you reached down and pulled the grey vest over your head. You turned it right side in and handed it over.

You watched, then, as she pulled it on. White button up rolled at her forearms, perfectly manicured, painted black nails to match her hair. Watched, still, as the waves fell to her shoulders when she pulled them out from under the vest.

She looked at herself again in the mirror, straightening the vest over the stain and pulling out her press badge. “Perfect. I owe you one.”

You catch a glimpse of her badge before she hurries out of the bathroom, likely needing to catch another conference. A blue strip on the top. Metropolis.

Hours later, you entered your last conference of the day. It was about 7 PM and you had lunch plans with a writer from Midway City tomorrow, so you had no desire to pay attention to the conversation. That was, until she walked in.

Lois waltzed in, looking better in your sweater vest than you ever had, and seated herself at the table with the confidence of a lion. God, she was radiant. She had pulled her hair into a claw clip, and the fatigue in her face was obvious, yet she was almost scary.

An hour and a half later, the meeting was over and the only thing you retained was that Lois Lane chews on her pen to focus and looks amazing doing it.

Everyone stood, eager to get back to their hotels. You were packing your bag when Lois leaned on the table beside you. “Thanks,” she said briefly, once everyone had cleared out.

“No problem.” You picked your bag up, standing and meeting her height. She stood from the table, gaining a couple inches on you now.

“I seriously owe you one. Do you have dinner plans?” She asked, taking a step toward the door in a silent invitation to follow her.

You shook your head, gladly falling in step beside her. “Nope. Was just gonna lay in bed and watch hotel cable TV.”

Lois laughed lightly at that. An airy laugh that implied it escaped unintentionally. “Join me for a drink? It’s the least I can offer.”

Back at Lois’ hotel, the two of you sat on the small couch beside the bed. You each held a vodka cranberry in hand, ironically both of your favorites. You were laughing over Lois’ story about the intern spilling her coffee.

“So he practically throws the cup down on the table and the lid flies off, and all of a sudden I’m covered in coffee,” she says through tipsy giggles.

You match her laugh, leaning back against the cushions and raising your hand to your mouth as you laugh, a life long habit.

As your laughs both die down, you meet eyes again. “Which reminds me…” she trails off as she leans forward, setting the glass on the coffee table. Lois reached down, grabbing the bottom hem of the grey sweater and lifting it up over her head. “Here you go.”

You can’t help the way your eyes drop to the slightest bit of cleavage visible from her barely unbuttoned top. You clear your throat, taking the sweater and giving a half-hearted smile.

However, your small glances didn’t go unnoticed. Lois’ lips part as your eyes meet again, and neither of you dare to look away. Even as she leans forward, capturing your lips with hers, you both maintain eye contact to the last possible second.

You allow your eyes to fully slip closed as you melt into it, letting out an involuntary sigh. One of her manicured hands lifts to rest on your cheek, thumb slowly gliding over your soft skin. It drops, then, to your shoulder, glides down your arm, and finds purchase at your hip. Her hand gently grips, daring you to move.

You hum into the kiss, finding yourself scooting forward, which allows Lois to pull you into her lap. Your knees on either side of her thighs, both her hands on your hips securing your spot there.

She pulls away, looking up at you and raising her eyebrows as if to silently ask for your permission. Both of your lipglosses had mixed together, now a mosaic of red and purple on either of your lips.

When you nod your head, she doesn’t waste a second.

Lois leans in, pressing an open mouth kiss to the hinge of your jaw. Your head falls back, letting out a breathy moan as she leaves a mixed color of sticky lipgloss behind. She kissed a trail down your throat to the collar of your button up.

Looking up at you as she undid the buttons, you could see how blown out her eyes were. Once piercing blue eyes now almost entirely overtaken with the black of her pupils.

When your shirt was undone, you slid it off your body, leaving you in a white cotton bra.

Her hands explored you, immediately. Sliding up and down the newly exposed skin until she was sure she had touched everything. Then, she made her way to your back, skillfully unclipping your bra and pulling it down your arms.

Her hands stopped, then, allowing her eyes to do the work. Looking you over as if trying to memorize every feature.

Right when you were beginning to get insecure, she leaned in, gently encasing one of your nipples in her mouth.

A surprised moan escaped you, looking down at her and meeting her eyes. Your jaw slack as she worked, sucking slightly as her tongue circled the bud.

You leaned your head back in pleasure just as the woman used a solid hand on your side to move you to lay down. She was slotted between your legs, laying over your body as her mouth remained connected to your breast.

With this new position, it allowed her to easily slide a hand down from your side and begin unbuttoning your dress pants with one hand. She slid the zipper down, eyes opening to meet yours again.

You nodded your head once more, giving her the permission she was asking for, before her hand slid under the waistband of your underwear.

The small whine that escaped your lips was merely instinctual as her two perfect fingers found your clit. They moved in small circles, making your thighs tighten around her body.

“You’re okay, I got you,” she whispered into your ear. The smell of coffee and vanilla perfume filled your nose as your orgasm neared.

“Lois-“ you called out as the pleasure came crashing over you, toes curling and one leg hooking around her waist.

When your high had finally come down, you opened your eyes to meet Lois’ blue ones. You knew, in this moment, that your life would never be the same.

Three months later, you and Lois had been going somewhat steady. While you lacked a label, that wasn’t what mattered. You messaged constantly, emailed during work hours, and called twice a week.

This week would be different, though. You had flown to Metropolis to spend the week with Lois, and the first two days had been amazing.

On Saturday, she picked you up at the airport and took you to her favorite restaurant downtown.

On Sunday, the two of you went for coffee and a walk around the park.

But now, on Monday, you woke up to an empty bed. It was partially to be expected, given she did have to go to work. The only thing that irked you was a lack of a goodbye.

You begrudgingly got up, slipping on one of Lois’ t-shirts and a pair of underwear before moving to the couch. You spent most of your day there, watching whatever channel Lois had on when she left.

Hours later, the sound of keys in the door had you perking up like a dog. “Hi,” You said immediately as she opened the door.

Lois gave you a tired smile, slipping her jacket off and hanging it up. “Hey.”

She dropped onto the couch next to you, pulling her laptop out of her bag. Opening it, she resumed writing an article she had started earlier that day.

You frowned, watching her write. “How was your day?” You tried in attempt to pull her focus away from work.

“It was fine. Started this article earlier and Perry wants it done by tomorrow.”

You stared at her eyes as they stuck to her screen, no obvious desire to look your way in the slightest. “Lois I came here to see you, not your computer screen,” you complained lightheartedly.

“I can’t just not work because you decided to come to Metropolis,” Lois argued, giving a small scoff.

Your brows furrowed at that. “I came here to see you-“

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she snapped, finally looking up at you.

The two of you shared a silent moment before you stood from the couch. “Then I’ll go.”

As you started toward the bedroom to gather your things, you heard her mutter, “I knew this wouldn’t work.”

You paused, turning to face her. “What’s that mean?” You asked, watching helplessly as she resumed work on her computer. “Lois, what does that mean?”

“Just that I’m not good at relationships,” she stated, eyes glued, again, to her screen.

You gave her a final once over before dressing, gathering your things, and heading out to the streets of Metropolis.

Unbeknownst to you at that point in time, those were the last words Lois Lane would ever speak to you.

A few weeks later, you sat in a meeting room, jotting down notes being spat at you by your boss. Eyes on your scribbled handwriting, a familiar scent filled your nose. Coffee and vanilla perfume.

Your eyes shot up, pen dropping from your hand. In front of you stood a new intern, setting a coffee down on the table. Her brows knitted together at your reaction. “…You okay?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, just…excuse me a moment.” You quickly stood, exiting the room and finding yourself in the break room. Closing the door behind you, you took a deep breath.

The room was empty and silent except for a small TV playing news stations from other cities.

“Breaking news from Metropolis: the rift tearing the city apart has been fixed thanks to local superhero and friend of the city: Superman.”

You looked toward the TV, expecting to see big blue courageously holding up a falling building or something. Instead you see him and Lois, *your* Lois, in a tight embrace.

How dare she. Did she really think it was okay to move on so quickly? Sure, the two of you were only ‘together’ for three months, but did that give her any right to do that?

Lois Lane became your own personal poltergeist. She haunted every aspect of your life until you couldn’t take it anymore.

After four months of torture, you decided to move to a different city. One where Lois Lane would only live in the shadows of what could have been.

tags @infernalfears

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