JJ

His pen glided across the page, taking note after more of the football match playing on the screen of his old computer

They could hardly afford new ones, and Perry had told him to cover the latest match, not that he had any real interest in it.

He sat back, thrusting his pen onto his desk as he took his glasses off, leaning back in his chair. He turned his head to the desk a few meters away, a smile coming to his face.

Every time he looked over to his best friend, Y/n, she was staring at Superman.

Whether it be photos, drawings, diagrams, newspaper clipping or even sketches she’d done herself (rather detailed too…), it was always the same superhero.

“Whatchu lookin’ at?” he stood up, peering over her shoulder.

“Oh hi Clark,” she looked up, not even bothering to hide the mass of photos she had laid out on her desk.

“Should’ve known,” he chuckled, watching as she grabbed one of the photos, shoving it into his face.

“Oh Clark, isn’t he dreamy?” she sighed, resting her cheek in one hand and staring at the photo.

He froze for a second, half because of the way she said his name, and half because…just the way she looked at him.

Or, well, ‘Superman’.

“I guess,” Clark pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, peering down at the photo in her hand.

“Anyways! Perry says he’s coming round to check on everyone’s articles for the week,” she said, dumping her main stack of photos into her drawer and pulling out a new folder.

“He is?”

“That’s what Jimmy said,”

Groaning, he rushed back to his own seat, looking over the minimal notes he had.

This was the second week he’d fail to present anything that was up to his boss’ standards, the second week of disappointment.

“What’s this, Kent?” Perry raised a brow, forever the stern, yet just boss of the Daily Planet, “is this it?”

Clark winced, as Y/n looked up from her computer, shooting him a sympathetic look.

“Look, I’m telling you,” he pressed, “if I could just pursue the Superman saga-,”

“No,” the older man looked down at the other sat down in the chair in front of him, “I’ve told you time and time again, we don’t need that! And besides, Y/n has it handled,”

Upon hearing her name, the girl looked at him apologetically.

“This is your final chance, Kent,” Perry announced, “last week to show me some work, and I mean proper work,” he glared at him, “or you’re moving down,”

“So,” Y/n stood up slowly as the boss stalked off back to his office, sending Clark one last glare, “that went…well,”

“It went great,” he spoke monotonously.

“Look, I can try and convince him to let us swap assignments if you-,”

“What?” he looked up incredulously at his best friend, “not a chance, you’re obsessed with Superman,”

Even as she’d made the offer to swap with him, she had looked reluctant - he’d hardly want to take the spark out of her when she came to work every morning. Never.

“I’ll stick with the football malarkey, you’re doing great with Superman,” he nodded firmly, “the people love it,”

“You sure?” she chewed on her lip, looking to him for final confirmation, before he gave her a nod.

“‘Course,” Clark flashed his toothy smile, slinging an arm round her shoulders and pulling her into his side, “as long as you’re happy, right?”

“You’re the best,”

There was a pause before Clark spoke.

“Y/n,” he said, turnip to face her, letting go of her shoulders, “how’s your Superman thing actually going?”

“Great,” she smiled, “there’s a lot happening so there’s so much to write about-,”

“I mean,” he cut her off, “like…interviews,”

The girl’s face fell into a pout.

Out of everyone at the Daily Planet, Clark remained the only person to have interviewed Superman himself. Little did they know….

He’d found himself tempted many times just to tell her…but he couldn’t.

What would it do to their friendship?

“Perry would be pleased if you got some interviews with Superman, what with me not being allowed,” he added onto the end.

The girl nodded, intrigued.

“And how do you propose I do that?” she huffed, “He only seems to like you,”

“That’s not true,” Clark protested, “he’s read your articles too, he says they’re great, actually,”

Ah. Just as he said it, he realised it was too much.

But Y/n was as oblivious as ever.

“Has he actually? Did he talk about me?” she gasped, almost excited. He couldn’t deny her an interview now, could he?

“I could…try and get an interview with you and him,” he spoke slowly, choosing his words very carefully, “I can’t be there…as he likes one reporter at a time, of course,”

Y/n nodded, her knuckles white as she gripped the back of her chair.

“Tonight? On top of the Daily Planet?”

“Yes please,” she nodded, her eyes shining as he smiled, giving her a nod.

“I’ll sort it out for you,”

As he flew amongst the buildings through the shadows, part of him wished she wouldn’t turn up.

But it was Y/n, the ever obsessive Superman fan girl. Of course she would.

A small cloud of dust billowed at his feet as he landed behind her, watching as her jaw quite literally dropped.

“Hi, hello,” she held her hand out for a high five, before balling it for a fist bump - before she eventually landed on shaking his hand.

He has a strong grip.

One she’d…felt before. But that was stupid, she’d never met him before.

“Hello,”

He deepened his voice ever so slightly, enough for it to sound natural but not forced. Being in front of her now, his ever-knowing, ridiculously smart best friend, it was a bad idea.

Why, why, why had he thought this was a good plan?

Y/n would recognise him for sure.

The girl in front of him was the very picture of giddy, her hands twitching by her sides, one fiddling with her pen.

“So, an interview?” he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully as she nodded.

“D’you know Clark?”

He paused for a second. “I do. Nice…guy. Good-looking too,”

Was he pushing it?

Y/n giggled at that, her cheeks tinged the slightest shade of pink, looking down to the floor before she took her recording device, and turned it on.

“So…how would you describe being Superman? In…three words,”

“Three? Well…” he paused. There was something so…captivating about her eyes. He hadn’t noticed it before.

He cleared his throat, leaning forwards ever slightly towards the device, noticing the slight flinch from his best friend in front of him.

“I’d say…adventurous,” he paused after the word, “sometimes…scary. And…fulfilling,”

“Fulfilling?”

“It feels like…I have a purpose,” he looked to the sky, the stars twinkling in the beyond. One of those could have been his planet, before it was destroyed.

Y/n hummed, like a signal for him to continue.

“There’s the fighting, protecting people…and then there’s the feeling after, it just…” he trailed off, watching a plane soar through the vast expanse of darkness.

“It feels like nothing could go wrong,”

She’d almost forgotten she was recording, just watching him with wide eyes. It was common knowledge he was an alien yet…he looked so…human.

She knew of real people who had less of a heart than he did.

“Do you consider yourself an American, Superman?”

“No,” he left a pause, “I don’t. I protect everyone and anyone, I consider myself just and fair,”

“Very diplomatic,”

The man in front of her just laughed, his eye contact never breaking with hers. It was intimidating in some ways, it felt like the cold blue of his eyes was staring into her soul.

Like he could see every little detail about her.

“And…how does it feel? Flying amongst the clouds,”

“You wanna know?” he turned away from the sky, his eyes locking with hers as she nodded.

It was so intense, she almost took a step back to steady herself.

Without a word, the broad man in the blue suit in front of her reached a hand forward, his palm facing the sky, gesturing for her to take his hand.

“Keep recording,” he said, watching as her hand slipped into his, soft, almost grounding.

Right then, it didn’t feel like she was his best friend.

It felt like something more.

“Just…hang on, yeah?”

“What- fuck!” the expletive fell from her lips before she could stop it, his knees bending before he shot off into the air, one arm tight round her middle.

“Might wanna cut that from the recording,” his eyes twinkled as he slowed, enough for her to take in the feeling of the cool air rushing across her cheeks and the wind blowing in her hair.

“Everything’s so…small,” Y/n whispered, her voice full of wonder as she looked down upon the road she’d drive along for work.

Now, it was just a line with funny-coloured dots moving along it.

“This is what it feels like,” he said, giving her waist a chaste, soft squeeze.

Now she understood what he meant by ‘fulfilling’.

For a moment, they were both silent, drifting through the air, over the roads and buildings, the long red of his cape fluttering behind him.

“Do you wanna land, Miss Y/l/n?”

“Yes please,”

Y/n almost breathed a sigh of relief as her feet made contact with the ground - not that she didn’t trust him.

“Got anymore questions for me?”

“I do, actually,” her hair was slightly messy from the wind, as she fumbled for her notebook, filled with the thousands of questions she wanted to know.

“Great,” he leaned against a large metal pipe on the building they’d landed on, arms folded against his chest.

Y/n turned herself, busying her hands with the pages to cover the blush that filled her cheeks. It was hardly easy to ignore the way his biceps bulged in the skin-tight suit across his broad chest.

“So,” she said, silently cursing herself for the high-pitched voice she had on, “does the Superman have a love life?”

Why did she ask that?!

“I…I have one, I just wouldn’t say it’s particular active right now,” he reasoned as she snickered, suppressing a laugh.

“Well?”

“Well, no, I don’t have one right now,” he paused, his eyes twinkling again, “why d’you ask?”

“Oh, it was just one of the questions I had,” she could feel a blush creeping up her neck again as she fumbled with the notebook.

“Yeah? Let me see,”

“Don’t worry about it- hey!”

Y/n didn’t even know why she bothered to try and dodge him, his hand snatching the book from her hand in seconds, opening it to the first page.

“‘Does Superman have a girlfriend’?” he mused, flicking to the next page.

She swore she wanted the Earth to swallow her whole.

“‘Would Superman date a human?’ ‘Would Superman date a journalist?’- well,” he chuckled, “I don’t see why not,”

“I didn’t write those,” she muttered, taking the book back from him and stuffing it back into her bag, her cheeks now violently red. This was a great impression.

“Oh, so the journalist isn’t you?” he cocked a perfect brow, a smirk on his defined features.

“No,”

“Shame,”

Yeah. Shame. Wait, shame?!

“What’s that mean?” she narrowed her eyes suspiciously as he turned, toying with the edge of his cape.

“Oh you know,” he shrugged it off, digging his feet into the ground as he did when he was ready to take off, “just disappointed,”

“Wait!!”

“Hm?” he turned his head, looking to her with mock innocence. Now this felt awkward.

“Go on, spit it out,” he tuned to fully face Y/n as she practically glared at him.

“You said it was a shame,” she repeated him slowly.

“Said what was a shame?”

“That I didn’t write those questions,”

“I did?” he spoke cluelessly as she narrowed her eyes, the frustration starting to creep in. She was cute when she was mad.

“Yes!” she kicked the ground.

“And you’d care…why?”

“Because it’s about me, right?”

“Could be,”

”I- Superman!” Y/n groaned. There was something so impersonal about calling him that, but she didn’t exactly have any other option.

“All I’m saying is there sure were a lot of love-related questions,” he paused for a second, “d’you have a crush on me?”

“No,”

“Very unprofessional,”

“I said I don’t,”

“Sure,” he smirked, his cape swishing behind him as he stepped forwards, the girl backing in front of him til her back hit the metal pipe.

“So push me away,”

She didn’t.

“That’s what I thought,”

The end of his sentence merged into a muffled groan as his lips met hers. The kiss wasn’t rushed or forceful, but surprisingly…soft.

For the supposed Man of Steel, he was rather gentle.

His hands found her waist, squeezing at the flesh below his fingers, pulling her body into his.

The cold air rushed round them but neither were paying attention to anything but the other, no care in the world if anyone else was watching.

He was warm against her, his teeth biting down onto the cushion of her lower lip as Y/n gasped, her mouth falling open.

His tongue delved into her mouth, taking advantage of her parted lips, the kiss deepening as she turned her head, her nose brushing his.

And then, he pulled back.

“I should go,”

“You should,” she said, swallowing as she caught her breath, her lips a little red from the intensity of the kiss.

“Can I drop you home?”

“Please,” she laughed, “I honestly have no idea what building this is,”

“Neither,” he chuckled, scooping her up easily into his arms, bridal style, floating high above the streets to stay out of sight, but low enough for her to feel safe.

“It’s this one,” Y/n pointed at the little red door of her house.

“Alright.”

He lowered her to the ground gently, right outside her door as she cleared her throat, looking to him once more.

“It was nice…meeting you,”

“It was nice meeting your lips- you,” he coughed as she suppressed the urge to laugh, failing miserably.

“Bye Y/n,” he said, giving her one last, chaste kiss on the cheek, before he turned and left, disappearing into the sky.

Her hand came to her cheek, gently touching the spot where his lips had touched her skin, the area burning slightly as she blushed. She was enamoured.

So enamoured that she didn’t even question why her superhero crush looked uncannily like her best friend.

The office was bustling with people again, working on different assignments as Clark sat at his desk.

He’d put on his best cologne, put a little more effort into his hair, and on the side of his desk was a bunch of red roses, the best ones he could find at the florist.

Last night had been nothing short of surreal.

His heart was clawing at him, he couldn’t keep his identity a secret anymore, least from his best friend.

And so he’d gone home after dropping her off, throwing himself into his bed, a wide, stupid smile on his face, imagining the many reactions she could have to the revelation.

Clark had it all planned out.

He’d ask her out to the movies, a classic, simple date, and then he’d show her. And she’d be so happy.

Then-

“Clark!” Y/n bounded into the office, squealing as she threw her arms round his neck, squeezing tight as he laughed.

“Y/n- Jesus, let me breathe!” he chuckled, prising her arms a little loose round his neck.

“Sorry,” she said, still giggling as she let go, standing up straight. She’d definitely ran up all the stairs.

“I have something to tell you!”

“Yeah? Me too, actually,” he tried his best to act cool, clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses.

“Really? You go first,” she ushered him.

“No, no, I wanna hear yours first,”

“Clark, I insist,” Y/n said firmly, placing her hands onto his shoulder and leaning down as he sighed, turning to his desk and taking the flowers.

“You’re asking someone out?” she whispered, like it was a secret as he winced, hearing her say it out loud was nerve-racking.

“I…yeah, yeah I am,”

“Who’s the lucky girl?” her eyes widened. She was always one for gossip. Which is probably why she was such a good journalist.

“You, actually,”

“I- me?”

“Yeah,”

Her face fell, the bright smile she had had on her face earlier now falling.

Clark’s own, awkward smile wavered.

“Just, a small date,” he offered, his voice cracking. He felt stupid now. Why did he think this was a good idea? “A movie…just-,”

“Clark. I can’t,” she stood up, her voice now void of all the happiness of before. Just…emptiness.

“I understand,”

Something about how he just…accepted it…it hurt more than she could have ever thought.

“I kissed Superman,” she said, her voice quiet. She didn’t even sound happy about it anymore, “at our interview,”

“I know,” he smiled. He wanted to be happy for her, he really did.

And even though he knew deep down that he was Superman, he didn’t even know if he could bring himself to pretend to Y/n anymore. It still felt like he’d lost the girl.

“I’m gonna refill this,” he held up a random mug, standing up from his chair.

It hurt. Her heart hurt. She felt horrible rejecting him, she did like him.

Y/n knew she did. But it felt wrong especially after last night.

It hurt so much, she didn’t even question why he’d said he knew.

Ét voila! Comment if you wanna be on the taglist for Part Two!

Also I’d really, really appreciates comments and reblogs with your opinions :)

It was another day in Metropolis City, pages flying around the main office of the Daily Planet.

Amongst the people responsible for the loose sheets, was Clark.

His glasses were pushed high up the bridge of his nose, his familiar brief case in one hand, the other clinging into a stack of papers, various news clipping of Superman.

Though not even he, (though he was Superman himself), could beat the obsession of Y/n, the intern.

She’d spend hours at her desk, sometimes after her shift had ended, studying the pieces about the mysterious superhero, her nose buried among pictures and post-it-notes of information.

Y/n would stay, even after Perry yelled at he that he wasn’t going to pay her for choosing to stay over time.

“Whatchu lookin’ at?” Clark peered over her shoulder, an assortment of pictures on her desk.

One had been from one of the monsters Superman had fought last week, another from a whole year ago.

“I’m trying to figure out who he is,”

He paused. She was a smart girl, very smart. Surely she hadn’t realised it was him..?

“I just don’t know,” she groaned in frustration, tipping her head back in annoyance, eyes closed, as Clark took a sigh of relief.

“Maybe…he doesn’t want to be found,” he offered, adjusting his glasses with a push of his index finger.

“Its out job to find out things people don’t want to be out, Kent,”

The little, half-sassy, half-shy intern was very much right. “Go write about…football or whatever Perry told you to,”

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, holding his hands up in mock-defence as he stood up from the edge of her desk.

“Go back to obsessing with your crush,” his eyes twinkled as he slumped into his own chair, turning to see Y/n’s cheeks flushed the deepest shade of red possible.

“It’s not a crush, Kent!”

Oh, if only she knew…

Reporters were always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was like they seemed to prioritise a photo or an interview more than their own damn lives.

Clark, or, Superman as he was, in that current form, watched as Y/n stood precariously on the top of the Daily Planet building, staring down at the scene below her.

A monster-type thing rushed through the streets, growling and flipping as many cars as possible.

The crunch of metal echoed in his sensitive ears as he winced.

But as usual, he dove into action, the dark, blood-red cape of his flowing in the wind behind him.

The cold air rushed past his face with no effect on him, landing a powerful punch into the abdomen of the monster.

To him, it was no big deal. He fought these every week, almost.

A flash of his laser eyes, a blow of his cold breath, a few more kicks an punches later…

The matter was quickly dealt with, only one or two cars slightly smushed, but otherwise, no casualties.

And as usual, the little crowd of onlookers crowded round him, whispering and thanking him for what he did.

“It wasn’t an issue, really,” he said, his usual, almost smug grin plastered across his face.

Naturally, his eyes found Y/n again, a camera in her hand as she stood on her tiptoes, on the actual edge of the building, taking a photo of the creature.

And then, her foot slipped.

Her scream was a hundred times louder in his ears as she tumbled through the air, her hair blowing, camera long-lost.

Cue his point about reporters risking their lives all the time?

The fall seemed to slow, not that it was going in slow-motion, or she was seeing her life before her eyes, but more the feel of two arms under her back, her body feeling like air.

The ground didn’t come, she didn’t feel the impact.

Y/n opened her eyes, now lightly moving downwards towards the ground, in the arms of Superman.

Embarrassing or?

“You alright, miss?” his feet landed on the ground, still very much holding her, almost bridal style, in his arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, bringing herself to her feet as he watched, amused. She was definitely blushing.

“Be careful where you stand, next time,”.

And with that, he was gone, straight into the sky, and disappeared in a small flash of light.

Y/n stood on the ground, still a little dazed from the fall, the place on her waist where his hands had touched, burning slightly.

Her apartment was high, overlooking the lit-up Metropolis City.

It wasn’t anything remarkably special, bar a small couch, a TV, a bed, a bathroom and a kitten. The average, over-expensive apartment that an intern struggled to pay.

She was sat on her couch, her laptop placed on her lap, typing up another article.

But for once in her life, Y/n debated whether or not to send in what she had written.

I remember falling, trying to take a photo of the beast, my camera spiralling out of the air. I don’t think this article would have been written, had it not been for Superman. Yes, Superman. Had he not have caught me, I would have died, probably. I thought I had messed up royally, til I felt his arms carrying me down to the ground, flashing me the all-too familiar, half smug grin. I felt my heart flutter. A real hero.

Did she seem like a fan girl? Just a little.

Y/n almost jumped out of her skin as she heard a knock on her window - how the heck would anyone knock, there wasn’t a balcony and she was so many floors up!

A silhouette moved in the darkness outside her window, but she caught the blood-red swash of the cape behind the figure.

Slowly, she opened the window.

“Uh, hi,” she mumbled, watching as he - Superman - slowly drifted into the living room of the apartment.

“Came to return this,” he paused in front of her. Up close, he looked so much broader, his biceps defined under the skin-tight blue material of his suit.

Her gaze fell to the camera in his hand - or what was left of the scattered remains after she dropped it.

“Sorry, I couldn’t do much to fix it,” he said, gently transferring the fragments into her palm, his hand brushing hers as he did so.

Y/n was just frozen.

Right in front of her, was Superman. He’d saved her earlier, and now he’d brought her camera back for her. She didn’t know why she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“You didn’t need…to do a personal delivery,” she finally spoke, breaking the silence.

“It’s no problem,” his voice was smooth, soft even, “just stick to the ground, maybe, next time?”

The girl winced at the memory of her foot slipping.

“Well, journalists always need to get the shot, right?” she joked, trying to add some humour we the carved, fine features of the man (or, alien) in front of her, broke into a small laugh.

“I respect that,”

There was a silence.

“Goodnight Y/n,” he nodded once, before he left just the way he had entered, disappearing amongst the clouds.

Y/n clicked ‘publish’ on her wrticle

“You’re late,” Perry mused, watching as the intern hurried in, her laptop and papers in her arms as she found her desk.

“Sorry, I just slept in-,” Y/n ran a hand through her slightly messy hair, opening her laptop as the boss hummed, turning in his heel and back to his office.

“Don’t let it happen again,”

She nodded, logging into her laptop before she looked up.

“What?” she said, “something on my face?”

“Hm? No,” Clark shrugged, pushing his glasses up as he twirled a one between his fingers, “read your article last night,”.

The girl paused.

She had forgotten she’d published it, chewing on her lip slightly, the words she’d written coming backing to her.

‘I felt my heart flutter’.

‘A real hero’.

“He seems to have…left an impression,” Clark spun slightly on his chair, a smirk fighting to come onto his face, “sure it’s still not a crush?”

“No,” Y/n turned firmly back to her laptop, opening the lid, before closing it quickly, all the assortment of photos and notes on Superman on her screen.

“Uh huh…” he hummed, “whatever you say,”

The girl worked on, continuing her article about the monster, trying not to stray onto the subject of Superman again.

“Hey Y/n,”

“What, Kent?” she groaned, turning her chair round to face him, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“You ever interviewed Superman?”

“What? No, no one has,”

“What if I said I could get you…an interview with him?”

Y/n paused. Then she laughed. “Are you joking? You’re crazy, Kent, keep writing about your football shit,”

“You just wait,” he protested, sliding his chair beside here, “be on the top floor, I’ll tell him to be there,”

“Whatever,” she laughed, rolling her eyes.

She had absolutely no idea why she’d listen to Clark Kent of all people, yet there she was, standing atop the Daily Planet building, the cold air rushing around her.

And then-

“You came,”

She turned around - and there he was. In all his glory.

The tight blue suit with the internationally recognised logo in the centre, the long, flowing red cape, the jet-black hair and the piercing blue eyes. The ones that captivated her.

“How did you…know I’d be here?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him, before he landed in front of her.

“Some guy asked me,” he shrugged, “a…Clark,”

Y/n didn’t know he was playing dumb.

“Oh,” she said, clearing her throat. She owed him an apology. “So, the interview?”

“Oh, right,” she nodded, sitting herself on one of the big, white bricks, as he remained standing.

There was something so intimidating about him being there, yet simultaneously, she felt…safe.

“What did you do in Boravia?”

“Told them not to invade Jarhanpur,” he replied, looking to the sky and then back to the reporter sitting beside where he stood, a microphone in her hand.

“And?”

“Smashed a few tanks and…other thing,” he cleared his throat.

“And do you consider yourself an ambassador for the US?”

“Not at all,” he frowned for a second, “I represent justice-,”

“You intervened with foreign affairs-,” Y/n pressed on, her palms sweaty as she held the recorder.

“People were going to die,”

She paused.

“You know that, you know people were going to die,” he said, his voice a more stoic than before aa Y/n swallowed, sighing.

“What do you say to your doubters?”

“Uh, fuck you,” he offered as Y/n snickered, a smile coming to his face too.

“You can’t add that in,” he said as she stood up, moving the recorder closer so she could further the interview. “I won’t,” she promised.

“Do you have a family, Superman?”

“I do,”

“Do you have…a love interest? Or anything?” she said, the question itself making her cheeks red as she cursed herself mentally for asking.

“I do not, no,” he shook his head, arms folded over his chest. She could have sworn he was blushing too.

Or, he’d just gone slightly pink.

“Are you interested?” he looked to her.

She paused.

Y/n was suddenly all too aware of his closeness, she could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body.

“Do you have a love interest?”

“I’m asking the questions here,” she mumbled, struggling for what little sense of professionalism she could muster as he snorted, covering it with a laugh.

“I get to ask one,” he said, leaning closer.

“Alright,” she sighed.

“Have you ever seen the city?” Superman asked, his icy blue eyes following her as she blinked, confused. Why, of course she had.

“I mean properly,” he leaned forward, whispering almost, holding a hand out to her, like an invite.

She took it.

Y/n didn’t know why she took it, but she did. She must have been mad.

She screamed as he shot into the air, his grip on her tight, holding her til she was right over the city, all the little lights on show, the people so small, like ants.

He flew slowly, keeping her tight in his arms, the wind blowing through her hair as he glided through street after street, pointing things out.

At last, he flew to the window of her apartment.

“That was…insane,” she gasped as her feet touched the ground, now stood on the inside of her apartment as he stepped in too.

He just smiled.

Suddenly, she felt her cheeks go red, painfully aware of how close he was. It was obvious what was going to happen.

And she let it.

His head dipped down, his warm lips coming to hers, pressing softly.

For The Man of Steel, he really was quite gentle.

It felt surreal, here she was, an intern, she didn’t really matter, her lips pressed against his.

Superman.

His hand was shaky as he cupped her face, pulling her in closer, deepening the kiss, and then-

They both pulled back, Y/n coughing as she looked away, the atmosphere changing to awkwardness.

“It was nice…the interview,” he nodded, rubbing his neck as he stepped back towards the window, “just crop that bit out, yeah?”

“I…will,” she just about finished her sentence as he left.

Fuck.