s 🎬

IT WAS A FAIRLY NORMAL DAY, I hadn’t absolutely embarrassed myself yet so i’d even dare to say it’s a good day.

I didn’t have quite a lot of assignments and I’d finished them a bit early so I was now…free. Free to do whatever I pleased.

So, I was on my phone—brightness at the lowest possible setting and on Tumblr, scrolling through all the Superman posts.

Pictures of him yesterday still circling around—zoomed in pictures of his biceps as he lifted up a fallen tree. Pictures of his ass as he walked away and a miraculous gust of wind, blew the infamous red cape just a little to the left in hopes of gracing my and…a billion other peoples’ Tumblr feed.

They were going crazy.

And I couldn’t help myself from smiling as I chewed my red nail polish and tasted its bitter, chemical taste.

“Hey,” I jumped, quickly placing my phone down, and looking over to Jimmy, who had leaned back in his swivel chair to talk to me. He eyed me suspiciously for a second before he continued, “You mind checking out these pictures I took of Superman yesterday?”

“Sure." I spoke as I took the three images from his hand and spread them on my desk.

The first picture was of him mid-fly, cape waving stubbornly—hair perfect, as always. With the sun hitting the side of his face so beautifully.

My eyes widened, "Wow, Jimmy, this is really good." I breathed, displaying the photo I was referring to.

He grinned, "I know."

I smiled and turned back to the next one—

I froze.

It was a picture of Superman walking...

Basic, nothing new.

But as my hungry eyes wandered down the blue fabric that hugged his biceps so tightly, I couldn’t help but let them wander further to those red tights.

Goofy in theory, but not right now. Hell no.

My eyes widened slightly as I noticed the way Jimmy, God bless him, had taken the picture at an angle where one of Superman’s legs was forward—allowing it to be in full display.

Superman’s…bulge. I even whispered it in my mind.

I stopped for a second, trying not to think about the hugh pitched voice in the back of my mind screaming: “SUPER BULGEEEE!” and try to focus on the way, aw, he looked tired.

Hm, tired—also rhymes with liars, tigers, buyers—

“Is something wrong?” Jimmy’s voice cut me off, “I know it’s—it’s basic—I should probably scrap this, I only took it ‘cause some old lady was rushing me and I wanted to get as much pictures as I could—“

“No, no, they’re…nice! It’s—they’re—I like it. Um, we need more candid photos like this of him.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows lifted, like he didn’t think of it that way, “Oh, yeah—really?”

“Hey Jimmy!” Lois called him from across the room, “C’mere, I need you to take a look…” Her voice melted away as I saw Jimmy walk over to her.

Here’s my chance.

I quickly turned back to the photo, paying no mind to Clark who was sitting at the desk right next to me. He was too busy writing his article which he was supposed to submit three days ago.

Quickly, I snapped a picture—went straight to Tumblr and wrote:

#Superbulge.

Clicked post with a smile on my face.

A little small part of me feared that maybe Jimmy had a Tumblr account where he would find this photo and trace it back to me and then I’ll be exposed as a Super-freak. But, I doubt anyone here has a Tumblr account.

So, I closed my phone in content.

The girls are gonna love it

That’s all that mattered.

⋆୨୧˚

As soon as I got to my door, I quickly opened Tumblr—I promised myself I wouldn’t check till I got back home, since, well…I couldn’t risk getting caught scrolling through Tumblr at work—especially since, Jimmy is a freaking snoop.

Nothing gets past him.

99+ notifications.

I laughed as I unlocked my door, scrolling through all the notifications.

And I decided to spend the rest of my lonely night replying to all the comments, and proudly staring at the picture I took.

PROLOGUE

THE FALAFEL was hot enough to burn my tongue, but I didn’t care.

“Ow, ow, ow!” My voice came out muffled as I shoved the smoking sandwich in my mouth.

Malik chuckled from behind the stand, flipping another pita on the grill—for me to take to work. I always ate two. One on the way, and another at work, “Careful Ms. Daisy, you will burn your tongue.”

I shrugged, chewing, “Too delicious.”

He laughed, shaking his head. Malik never remembered anyone else’s names, but mine—mine he said like I was family. Probably because I was his most reliable customer. Two falafel sandwich every morning, no exceptions.

My second sandwich finished and he wrapped it up swiftly, with a kind of precision that made me admire him even more than I already did.

Malik was the first ‘friend’ I made here in Metropolis—I have no clue whether our friendship was one sided, something I labeled as friendship in my mind to reassure myself that I wasn’t completely and utterly alone in this city. He probably just saw me as a costumer.

I thanked him as I took my second sandwich, fought him for ten whole minutes just to pay the six dollars the two sandwiches cost. And, then headed towards the crosswalk.

The light flashed green. I looked left, looked right, did everything right. My dad’s voice echoed in my head like it always did: always look thrice, Daisy.

So I did. I double-checked. Triple-checked.

And then I stepped out.

The horn ripped the air apart before I even saw the cab. Yellow. Too close. Too fast.

I yelped, gripping my satchel as I sped up, tried to make a run for it—

My falafel slipped from my hand.

No…

A light blinded me, the horn echoing in my head.

Great. I die without my second falafel.

And then—an arm. Solid, strong, wrapping around me in a blur. My feet left the pavement, the wind tore through my hair, and before I could scream—

We stopped.

On the other side of the street.

I was face to face with his chest, with that oh so familiar symbol.

Oh.

Oh wow.

I blinked up at him, throat closing. His cape brushed my leg, his chest was right there, and his eyes—God, his eyes were the bluest thing I’d ever seen.

“You okay?” His voice was calm, steady, like he hadn’t just stopped a taxi with his body and scooped me out of death.

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

He tilted his head, concern softening his expression. “Miss?”

Still nothing. My brain had fried like Malik’s falafel oil.

“My…My falafel…” My voice cracked, dry, like I swallowed chalk.

Superman’s head tilted, and he looked to the side—his sharp jawline now on full display.

My knees went weak.

“Oh, sorry, ma’am…I wasn’t fast enough to catch it.” He turned back and I felt my knees fold.

He grabbed my elbow and steadied me, “Whoa, easy there.” Oh, for fuck’s sake, shut your beautiful mouth!

“Superman!” Malik was running across the street, apron flapping. “Thank you, thank you!”

Superman gave him a small nod, but his hand didn’t leave my arm.

Malik reached us, slightly out of breath, and his eyes darted between me and Superman’s hand still steadying me. “She looks pale,” he said. “Sit, sit—here!”

Superman nodded once, gently guiding me to the nearest bench. His hand was warm, solid, covering my arm like an anchor.

“She needs water,” Malik fussed. “You have water, Daisy, right?”

I panicked. “No!” Too fast. Too loud.

Superman crouched in front of me, cape pooling on the pavement. He raised an eyebrow, patient but unyielding. “You don’t?”

“I—well—”

“She always has water,” Malik interrupted, already unzipping my satchel.

“No, no, wait—”

Out it came.

My bright blue, plastic, Superman children’s water bottle. Stickers peeling, dented cap, the kind sold in the aisle for six-year-olds, which is exactly where I found and grabbed it and bought it.

My stomach plummeted straight through the sidewalk.

Superman looked at it. Then at me.

The corner of his mouth tugged upward, not quite a smile, but enough to make me want to launch myself into oncoming traffic just to end the moment.

Malik shoved it into my hands. “Drink, Miss Daisy.”

Superman’s gaze softened. “Go on.”

So I unscrewed it, shaking hands betraying me, and drank. Out of Superman. In front of Superman. While Superman watched.

Kill me. Just kill me now.

When I lowered the bottle, cheeks hot enough to melt through the bench, he straightened to his full height.

“Stay safe, Ms.?” he said, eyes on me like he meant it.

“Daisy.” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

He smiled, “Ms. Daisy.” And it was almost like he was going to remember it.

And then—whoosh. He was gone. Just gone.

Leaving me, Malik, and my stupid water bottle.

Cameras clicked, phones following the Kryptonian hero as he flew.

I rolled my eyes as I looked down at my water bottle.

⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚ ⋆୨୧˚

Song I listened to while writing : Holy Ground - taylor swift

also PLEASSEEEE be warned this is my first tumblr post, my first tumblr fic and what im planning is to do just like little scenes in a metropolis with daisy and like her falling in love w superman