midnight

cedric diggory

dating cedric diggory headcannons

just friends | cedric catches you in a lie after brewing amortentia. do you know about his secret feelings for you?

sleep talking | after you get stood up for a date, you run to the one you’ve always loved. leading to sleep-ridden confessions.

plain sight | cedric catches you stealing his clothes straight from his closet.

what she wants, what he needs | being cedric’s fuckbuddy is not what you imagined.

edward cullen

something told me i should | while visiting alice, your sudden best friend, you meet her brother edward.

bruce wayne

chipped away pt 1 pt2 | bruce’s secret chips away at your relationship. will it break?

tasm!peter parker

bug | peter keeps showing up with bruises, but you won’t keep pushing if he’s just going to push you away.

holland!peter parker

it’s two in the morning? | peter comes to your rescue when mj and you decide to explore an abandoned subway station… at two in the morning.

corenswet!clark kent

man of the century | clark cannot take you calling superman your white boy of the week.

something came up | your insecurities begin to eat at you when clark doesn’t show for a date, again.

all that glitters | you overhear clark and jimmy’s conversation about you, causing you to change yourself.

he looks just like you | kale, you and clark’s son, looks exactly like clark.

like a cat | clark cannot understand how you’re so accident prone.

scott miller

The day had started off wrong. His coffee was bitter, some intern had screwed up his papers, investors were up his ass and of course Javi was late enough that a gum trip was out of the picture. 

The reason of Javi’s lateness was that he had to help you get settled in, get your badge cleared and your equipment up and running. Scott had seen plenty of pretty faces get hired by the company, he gave you a week. 

“That’s Kenzie and Caleb” Javi pointed and you smiled and waved at them before standing in front of the broody brunette you’d seen sulking for the past five minutes. “And this is your partner Scott”

You smiled at the man, looking up at him enthusiastically. “You’re late.” He deadpanned, shifting his gaze towards Javi. 

“Well I had to get her set up, Josh has the day off.”

“Right” Scott answered, looking at you once again. Your smile unwavering. Five days, and that was being generous. 

The day was stretching longer, and Javi wouldn’t stop harping from the passenger seat. You sat excitedly in the back, talking about some hippy dippy weather club you were part of in college. Four days? Three and a half? Anyone who was part of anything called the Thunderwears was not meant for storm chasing. 

No matter what, his mood was worsening. Javi was finally quiet and you were popping up from the backseat to catch a glimpse at whatever was on Javi’s computer when you silently offered him one of those chunky cubes of gum. The kind he hadn’t seen since he was a kid. He involuntarily smiled. He’d give you a week. A week and nothing more. 

You seemed to carry endless cubes of that sweet sugary gum, and after a couple weeks Scott had discovered you would pop a piece whenever you felt nervous. He started to make it a habit to buy a pack of your pink bubblegum alongside his spearmint gum whenever he stopped at a gas station, just to keep inside his truck. Just in case. 

You had quickly learned to understand how much Scott valued his silence. Which is why you would sit on the passenger seat quietly during most of your duo missions. It came as a shock when two weeks into your partnership he started talking to you. 

“What’s your favorite restaurant?” He had asked out of nowhere. 

You played with the crumpled packet of pink Hubba Bubba, you’d switched your bag in the morning and in the rush and excitement of the big storm you had forgotten to check for your snacks and trinkets. 

A storm that was supposed to be medium light was now staring back at you with big open jaws and winds that looked like they could rip trees from the ground. 

“Uhm,” you answer. Thinking for a second. “Chilis?”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“No that’s my favorite restaurant really.” You answer, tearing your gaze from your side mirror and looking at Scott. Who was looking at data on his computer. “You ever been?”

He scoffs before answering, “No”

“Oh.” You reply, cheeks burning. Was that a lame choice?

“I mean I don’t usually go out to eat,” Scott adds quickly. Just to keep you talking. Whatever kept you from freaking out about the tornado that would stalk by a couple miles from your window. “Don’t really have time.”

“See you’re missing out.” And he let you talk about the margarita of the month and your favorite menu items until the storm had passed enough to move. 

That night he sat at a booth opposite from you and ate enough chips and salsa for a life time. 

In three months he would be sitting in a different booth listening to you talk about Love Island. And then sitting in the truck listening to you talk about some TikTok drama. And in no time he would ask you to be his girlfriend. Just like that. No rodeos. 

You were sharing a lava cake, your dinner outings now a monthly thing. You were talking about a movie you’d gone to watch on your day off. 

“Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked as you took a bite of ice cream, his eyes cast down at his spoon on your shared plate. Stealing a quick glance at you. 

You pursed your lips before answering playfully. “Does that mean we won’t split the bill anymore?” A smile appearing on his chiseled face. 

You liked many things about Scott. His avoidance wasn’t one of them. Not that it was a problem that he wasn’t as affectionate as you, that just wasn’t his style. But as much as you knew he loved you. You could never know, know. 

You didn’t like how whenever you’d argue he would play this radio station of old timey love songs. One of those subscription ones perhaps, the ones with no ads and extremely cheesy 90’s songs you’d definitely hear during road trips with your parents. Waiting until you commented on a song to shoot an apologetic look at you and reach for your hand. 

You didn’t like that he had never said ‘I love you’. And you especially didn’t like that Kenzie knew that fact. 

The first time she had rubbed it in your face, it was a team outing. Javi was at another table catching up with Kate, she would sometimes visit. And Scott was at the bar getting you some water, you were definitely feeling tipsy. You were alone when you heard her behind you. 

“Didn’t take Miller for the long run hookup,” she had said loudly. Definitely meant for you to hear. “I bet he hasn’t even told her he loves her.” 

You sat in the passenger seat quietly that night. Scott turning on his radio station to the beginning verse of How Deep is Your Love by the Bee Gees. Earning a roll of your eyes as you leaned across the console, your head resting on his arm. Your body relaxing at the soft melody. 

The next time, she wasn’t as subtle. You remember her words. “You and Scott aren’t really serious right? I mean he barely stands next to you”. And maybe she just wanted your boyfriend. And maybe you were being irrational. 

But his lack of reassurance had only left her words swirling into something toxic in your head. Your stomach turning into acid. 

When you climbed into the car, you unwrapped two cubes of bubblegum and chewed in silence. 

Scott humming to Friday I’m In Love, Fade into You, You’re Still the One, Iris. His hand close enough for you to take, but you were too stubborn. And he hadn’t asked anything, so you would not embarrass yourself by asking your boyfriend why he wouldn’t tell you he loved you. 

When the beginning chords to The Only Exception began to play you turned to look at him with a small frown on your face. 

“Why’d you change the station?” 

He glanced at you from the road, “What station bubs?” He answers as he hands you a napkin, your gum beginning to taste weird. He knew the flavor ran out faster when you popped two pieces instead of one. 

“Your station, the one you always play.” You answer, pointing at the stereo. Deciding you had thrown enough of a tantrum and lacing your fingers between his.

“My phone’s connected to the speaker sweets, it always is.” He answers, glancing at you again. A knowing smile on his face. 

You let out a noise between a scoff and a hum. He knew. “She just rubs me the wrong way and I don’t even know how you know because I know I wasn’t even drunk enough to tell you that time”

Scott laughs at your outburst. “You didn’t have to. Kate was in town that weekend and she told me all about it.”

You groan before he adds. “I’m not good at talking about feelings like you are,” he lets go of your hand momentarily to reach for his phone. Handing it to you unlocked. “But I know you like music”

You look down at the slightly cracked screen. Your name at the top of a playlist. You scrolled through decades of love songs, the more recent ones closer to the bottom. Nearly 35 hours of songs. Under a playlist with your name. 

You look at him with a happy pout on your face, “I’m sorry Scotty.” You mumble happily. 

You had known the Kent twins for as long as you could remember, they’d been your next door neighbors your whole life. John being your mom’s best friend since their Smallville High days. 

You’d always go over to the Kent Farm for Sunday lunch, and one day they were there. Clark’s dimpley smile immediately welcoming you and making you feel warm. 

“You guys look the same.” You’d remember saying. Your mom following after Martha as they headed to the kitchen. 

“We’re twins,” Clark had said with a smile. His clone standing silently next to him, looking at you with a small frown “Wanna go play outside with our tire swing?”

And you’d followed behind him. Which was usually how things went. Clark was your best friend, it was always you and him being loud around the farm while Scott rolled his eyes and stayed slightly behind. 

Scott Kent was never mean to you, but you never knew if he liked you or not. Where Clark was warmth and sunshine, Scott was quiet and reserved. On that first summer day he’d been the one to push you on the swing while Clark climbed a tree. But he hadn’t spoken much, his face seemingly telling you he was slightly annoyed by your plethora of questions. 

And it had always been that way. He would talk to you begrudgingly, and everyone at school would say he was a grump. Some even going as far as calling him Scott Miller, after Old Mr. Miller the town’s local grump. 

You had never disliked Scott, you never had a reason to. He was quiet and aloof but never outright mean. You even remember thinking how his quiet demeanor gave him an air of mystery that you thought about at night. While Clark mused about Lana Lang, you daydreamed about his twin that had stopped sitting at your lunch table once highschool started. 

Your small, innocent crush was short lived though. Was four years short? To you it felt like a short while, the heartbreak afterwards seemingly an eternity compared to the duration of your feelings. 

It was the second week of senior year, and you stood by the front door. Having let yourself in a couple seconds ago, which you had always done. But the mention of your name stopped you, door still in your hand to stop it from slamming. 

“She’s staying for dinner?” Scott. His voice was gruffer than Clark's. Deeper, raspier. And from the unmistakable groan that followed, you could tell he was complaining. 

"Clark is taking her senior portraits" Martha replied, and you could hear the smile on her face.

"He always finds a reason, doesn't he?" He grumbles and you decide you've heard enough. 

You let the door go and it slams, announcing your presence. You smile at Martha as she peeks out from the kitchen. "Oh sweetie! Come on in"

And you walked into the kitchen, avoiding Scott's gaze as you took a seat in one of the stools. Waiting for Clark in your fluffy pink dress. Feeling ridiculous that you were wearing pink in front of Scott. 

“Nice bow. I like that color on you”

But that had been years ago, you weren’t ten anymore. And you were pathetic for thinking Scott saw you as anything more than his annoying, overbearing neighbor. 

That evening, Clark had taken your photos and you had found an excuse to skip dinner at the Kent house. The first time of many, that is until Scott left for MIT.

Clark and you had attended Smallville University. And from your third year onwards you had even been roommates on a small apartment off campus. You still made time to visit on Sundays for brunch. And when you both graduated, both your families were there. Everyone except Scott. Not that you really cared anyway.

You had heard about his whereabouts throughout Sunday dinners, sometimes catching bits of Clark's conversations with him through the walls. Always having an excuse as to why you couldn't pop in and say hi. You could imagine his face had you decided to walk into frame, the disgust and annoyance of you still clinging to his brother. 

You knew he studied the weather, he was a scientist. He had always been real smart, the smartest person in any room. There was even a time he would help you with your homework, but you were really little. And times had changed since then. 

You avoided gatherings where you knew he's be there, and once he became a storm chaser he wasn't even that present anymore.

You had grown overconfident.

And truth be told you doubted he even cared anough about your mother's birthday. And yet, when you walked into your balloon-decorated-backyard, there he was. A party hat on top of his head and a side smirk as he talked to your dad about his time in Oklahoma.

His eyes locked with yours and suddenly you felt chilly in your frilly, pink dress. You swallowed thickly and went to the drinks table, grabbing whatever was closest and gulping it down. Then headed inside, where he wouldn’t see his pathetic neighbor who always seemed to cling to his brother. 

There was no way out of your mom’s birthday though. And you were grown now, why did it matter what that grump thought? Why did you feel like hiding from his judgy face? Why did you care so much?

So you walked back outside, and you were pleasant and daughterly. 

When the sun began to set, Clark volunteered to help your mom in the kitchen. You decided to head to the back, walking towards the tire swing Mr. Kent had hung on your oak tree after Scott and Clark had broken the one in their house. Seeing through your quiet disappointment when Clark had told you you couldn’t swing on it any more. 

You sat there in silence for a couple minutes, watching the sun set over the corn fields.   

At the sound of footsteps you perk up, “Can we go home now?” 

Except that wasn’t Clark on his way to drive you both back to Metropolis. It was his evil clone. Except he didn’t look that evil under the disappearing sun. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while” He says with a sideways smirk. 

“Yeah been busy.” You say, looking down at the grass under your feet. 

“For six years?” He asks with a soft laugh. He walks towards the swing, pushing you gently. 

It’s quiet for a moment before he breaks the silence, “Can’t believe this is still holding”

“Your dad tied it real good.” You answer. 

“How’s Metropolis?”

“Good” You answer softly, “It’s good”

He hums, “You’re quiet now”

At the sound of footsteps you feel your lungs loosen, finally able to breathe again. 

“Y/N? Quiet?” Clark’s loud chuckle booms. “Can’t believe that thing still works”

You stood from the swing abruptly, Scott stopping it from hitting you just in time. 

“You guys leaving?” He asks, his face unreadable. 

“We have an early morning at the Planet tomorrow” You answer. 

He nods in quiet understanding, “How’s that promotion treating you?” He asks. 

You turn to shoot Clark a look, just as he mouths a defensive ‘He asked’. 

“It’s been going great, thank you.” You answer with a smile. Following Clark with your gaze as he went back inside the house, presumably to get more cake. 

“You never say hi on the phone.” He says, his brow furrowing slightly. 

“I’m just busy”

“I can hear you in the background.” He answers quickly. “We used to talk”

“I used to talk” 

“That’s just because I liked to listen,” he scoffs. “I was never good at talking. That was Clark’s thing”

“How’s Oklahoma?” You ask gently after a small beat. His eyes immediately light up. 

“It’s been good,” He says with a smile. “You’d like the clouds. I remember how much you liked cloud gazing”

“I still do” you answer with a laugh. “There’s not many clouds in Metropolis though”

Scott’s smile is genuine now, a sight she had last seen when they were kids. “You should visit Oklahoma sometime”

She laughed at that, looking at the door as Clark walked right back out with a box of cake. “Yeah right, me and tornadoes don’t go together.”

Scott follows your gaze and his smile drops. “Yeah, you’re right”

You look back at him and he’s already looking at you with that detached look you’ve become familiar with. 

“Let’s roll” Clark announces, big grin on his face. 

You hand him your purse to throw in the car and head inside to say bye to your parents. Several bone crushing hugs later and you were back outside, stopping dead in your tracks when you see Scott sitting in the passenger seat of Clark’s truck. 

You climb into the back silently and look at Clark through the rearview mirror. 

“Scott is staying over in Metropolis for a couple days.” He says excitedly. “Big conference”

He couldn’t risk your life anymore. And he couldn’t take any more questions. 

“Honey I swear there’s a perfect explanation but right now I can’t” he takes a deep breath, his hands going to rub at his temples. But that’s not an answer for you. 

Because this wasn’t the first time. And he knew you were tired, but he knew if you just held on a little longer he would be able to explain everything. With the truth. 

“I want an explanation now Clark, please.” You’re begging, and he can’t take the way his name sounds on your lips right now. So sad and full of despair. “Clark.”

“Y/N please not now,” he mumbles. 

“Clark.” 

“I said not now Y/N.” And though Clark prides himself in never crossing the line, he knows he has crossed it. 

His voice has raised enough to stun you into silence. And he sighs, turning around to walk into the kitchen and give you a bit of space before apologizing. Taking some time to come up with an excuse, a lie. 

The door clicks as he shuts the tap. And he knows you tried to be quiet, because it only registers when you’re out of the apartment. His feet taking him back to the empty living room, your footsteps not registering in his super hearing any more. 

He knows you take a walk when you’re overwhelmed. He knows you’re usually back after an hour tops. He knows he should cook dinner and make the couch cozy and apologize. 

But after the pasta is done. After your favorite wax melt is completely flat on the warmer. And once the hour has passed, an hour and thirty, two hours. Clark is by the window, scanning the street. His hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, immediately dialing your number. 

The loud ringing of your phone distracting him from the window, why did you always leave the ringer on?

So he walks to the couch to turn off your phone, when he realizes he shouldn’t be able to turn off your phone. His movements freezing. Why is your phone here? 

Your phone is here, and you’re too far for him to hear your heart, and usually you’re pretty talkative but right now you’re mad so you’re quiet and he can’t hear you.  It’s been more than two hours and you’re not here. And maybe Lex connected the dots and you’re not here because he has you. And he has you because Clark was three hours late and he’s been keeping secrets from you and if only he had been honest you would be here. 

“I’m only back because I forgot my phone and my key card is there.” Clark’s head snaps up at your voice, immediately by your side. His arms embracing you as soon as you’re in arms reach. 

“I’m Superman I’m sorry please don’t leave. I just couldn’t tell you because I was scared of you being in danger.” He blurts, his face buried in your neck. 

You take in a deep breath and he waits for your shock. “You had two hours to yourself and this is the excuse you came up with?” Your tone defeated. 

He pulls away from you for a second, shooting a small controlled flame towards a candle you have by the corner of the room. 

Your eyes are wide when you say, “How did you do that?” Your voice soft. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Clark oh my god.” Her hands go to cup his face. “All of those things, on TV.”

“I tried to make it I really did.” He mumbles, “I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you though.”

“I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“I shouldn’t have lied.”

She smiles and wraps her arms around him, he takes his chance to breathe her in. 

“Don’t leave your phone behind please, I need you to be careful.”

She nods into his chest. The apartment falling into a comfortable silence. 

“Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“They’ll find out if you keep giving yourself interviews.”

you entered his awareness zone the moment you befriended cat, your voice worming its way into his regular circle of voices. in a matter of months cat had already invited you to their biweekly karaoke bar night and he began to listen in through walls for your voice at the planet. the girl that had shown up at the bar not matching up his registry of things he had heard from you at the office. at work you were quiet, meek, reserved, the complete opposite of who he was just witnessing bouncing on the stage alongside cat and lois. a totally off beat rendition of rich girl by hall and oates flooding the bar you all decided to stop at.

your smile was contagious, and even though you were drunk off your mind—the slightly off beating of your heart giving away your drunken state—he could not remember the last time he heard a voice like yours.

when you sat back down beside him, he handed you a glass of water and the way you looked at him made the bar go quiet. jimmy and lois' off key duet of girl's just wanna have fun fading into the background.

"how'd we do?" you had asked.

and from the tone of your voice, he decided he shouldn't lie. "that was horrible."

you both laughed at the seriousness of his tone. you didn't invite him up to the stage with you that night, but he knew he would've done background vocals for any song you had asked.

two weeks later he had found you alone in the break room, eating a burrito by the corner closest to the door. when he said "hi" you jumped in surprise, a smile decorating your face immediately after.

"can i sit here?" he'd asked. and when you smiled and nodded he sat down next to you in the small table.

from then on you two would spend your lunch breaks together. and for the next karaoke bar night, he was the one to invite you. not cat.

when you said you had to do don't stop believing, he was the one by your side up on the stage. the smile on your face so carefree, so bright, intoxicating in a way. if he was able to get drunk, he had the feeling that is how it would feel like. by the end of the night, your cheeks were red from the tequila and when he offered to walk you home you were bold enough to grab his hand the whole way. not that he tried to pull away at all whatsoever.

the next time he invited you out after work wasn't for a group karaoke night.

"i wanted to know if you would like to have dinner tonight" he had asked, poking and prodding at his salad bowl. "just you and me"

the slight pause to your heartbeat making him look up, "yeah." you'd answered with a smile.

after the first date, he'd invite you anywhere he could. and offer to come with any time you would have him. by the fifth grocery store run, he'd ask you to be his girlfriend.

in the produce section. next to the pears.

"you and i would make a great pear" he said as you sorted through the fruits, making you laugh as you looked at him.

"what?" you'd said between laughs.

he took that as his cue to keep going, scanning the fruits and vegetables around you to come up with more puns. "you make my heart skip a beet"

when you'd laughed again, he simply asked. "would you let me be your boyfriend?" and smiled as you nodded and said yes.

he loved spending time with you, loved it when you spent the night at his place. loved making dinner with you, sitting in the couch and watching movies with you. he even loved when you couldn't sleep at two a.m. and asked things like

"do you think worms get to see our faces from the ground? or are we faceless monsters that squish the grass and yell when we see them?"

which would turn into a long conversation that would end with him offering to sing you to sleep just for you to stop asking him about worms, or vegetables, or the bottom of the ocean.

"but think about it clark! there has to be at least one megalodon in the mariana trench"

"stop watching national geographic before bed"

yet in all your conversations, you never mentioned work. and maybe he should've asked. maybe he should've considered it odd. you listened to him talk about work, but he had never heard anything from your side of the planet. so he decided to stop by one day.

his day was slow, he had finished his article early for once. and he wanted to see you in your element. you were always visiting him upstairs, why had he never thought to do the same for you before?

his ears were perfectly attuned to you. and the closer he walked to the photography department, the clearer he could hear you. you and the group of girls that were talking with you. or more at you.

"wow y/n," he heard someone say, flipping through your photos. "these shots have such a raw quality to them. totally candid"

he stopped to hear your reply. a small airy laugh was all they pulled from you.

another voice interjected. "yeah, real personal. almost like a hobby"

“she does seem personal,” someone added. “especially with the reporters. kent.”

one of the voices snickers, your breath shuddering.

“you don’t look like the type,” she said casually, “so how do we get him to request us like you?”

both girls laugh and he can hear your heart beat a bit faster, he knew you were blushing.

"yeah" you mumble and let out a small laugh. "i gotta go hand these in to perry"

he heard your steps approaching and as soon as you were close enough to him he caught you by the shoulders. eliciting a gasp from you, "clark".

your eyes were red and your cheeks were burning up. "oh baby" he mumbled, opening his arms to you. to which you immediately take comfort in.

he squeezes you twice before rubbing your back and letting you pull away, he grabs the pictures from your hands and flips through them. "oh honey these are great, the light is doing some great framing in this one." his compliments elicit a smile from you, the confidence back in your step as she makes her way to the elevator towards perry's office.

clark, on the other hand, rounds the corner into the photo room. immediately finding the two girls fawning over some photo one of them had taken. the one that called you personal notices him first.

"hi clark!" she says, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

"hi" he says with a curt smile. "i was looking for a photo from last week's protest at the square."

they both perk up at the request. "oh sure clark, what kind?"

"it doesn't really matter" he says with a smile. "i was looking for something low res. just for a mockup" he adds with a soft, kind tone.

he approaches the work table they were standing by and zones in on one of the photos they had spread. "ah. this will do the trick" he says with a smile. "may i?"

when he looks up both girls are giving him a death glare, nodding at his request.

"thank you" he says kindly. "keep up the good work." he adds, before exiting the photo room and getting walking towards the elevator.

“How could you be so careless?” Scott exclaimed, the vein on the side of his neck popping out. A clear sign that he was beyond angry. 

Everyone knew that Scott would never direct his anger at you, people often pinning mistakes on you just to escape his wrath. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Directing your gaze towards the floor. 

That didn’t seem to stop him though, “Sorry doesn’t fix it Y/N,” he replied gruffly. Definitely not his worst outburst, but your first one ever. In front of the whole team. 

As StormPar kept growing, new people kept being added to the team. Newbies never really stayed though; incompetence, the danger of the job, the strain of the trips and definitely Scotts anger played a bit into it. Today was one of those days that nothing went right—the storm you guys had chased was out of your depth and Dorothy wasn’t set properly, which caused you all to miss out on important data. 

Of course the mistake hadn’t been yours, but you had taken the blame so many times before. So what would taking it for one more intern really do? You’d gotten out of bigger screw ups with nothing but a sigh from Scott. And the whole team knew it. 

Javi would joke that you could crash the truck into a tree and Scott would simply drop his shoulders and keep it moving. 

“Just…” Scott sighed, looking away from you. “Get out of my sight.”

You turned on your heel and walked away from the team, going to stand behind the motel building. You looked at the sky and counted to seventy, looking to your side when you heard footsteps approaching. 

“That good enough?” Scott says with a small smirk pulling at his lips, approaching you with open arms. 

You smile and walk into his embrace, “You see the way they were looking at you?”

“Damn right, like I’d gone crazy.”

You pull away enough to look at him, “You cannot keep looking like you favor me.”

“Baby but I do,” he begins pressing kisses on your cheeks. “I did not like talking to you like that”

You laugh at his antics, but he keeps you close to him. 

“Uh-uh. We’re never doing that again,” he mumbles. 

From the beginning, Scott and you had had this unexplainable connection. To him, you felt like the peace he’d been searching for. And, for you, he felt like home a thousand miles away from home. 

You remember the moment everything changed between you two. The night everyone had missed out on a group dinner, leaving you and Scott standing outside the motel alone. The night you’d convinced him to drive forty five minutes just because he said he’d never been to a Chilis. The night you pulled a deck of UNO cards as you waited for your food and made conversation easy. The night Scott decided he never wanted to be anything but warm towards you. 

But just as Scott was obvious when he was mad, he was obvious when he liked someone. And that someone became you, quickly. 

You never minded it. 

But you were keeping your relationship secret, and you could hear the team whisper. So you came up with a plan. 

Scott had to yell at you in front of the team, something he’d gone against for days. But after hours of hearing you plead your case, he went along with it. 

“It will all be an act honey,” and with a roll of his eyes he was on boat.

You stay in a quiet embrace for a couple more minutes before you press a quick kiss to his lips and walk back up towards your room. 

Javi knocks on your door two hours later. 

“You coming out tonight?” he asks, barging into your room as he usually did. 

You close the door behind him, “Who’s going?” you ask. Sitting on your bed. 

He sits in the small chair on the corner, “Oh just everyone,” he shrugs. “Kate, Tyler, possibly Scott, me. You of course,” he says with a smile. 

“Scott at a bar? Right”

“Hey don’t stay in because of him,” he starts. Looking serious for a moment, “He doesn’t know how to control his outbursts sometimes. I’ll tell him to apologize,” he offers, one of his eyebrows raised. 

You smile and nod, “Don’t worry about that”

“Okay,” he looks around for a couple seconds. “So you’ll come out?”

You laugh and nod, quickly grabbing your purse and following behind him. 

Going down the stairs you shoot Scott a quick ‘going out’ text, but are shocked when he’s already leaning by the truck next to Kate and Tyler. He raises his eyebrows at you in greeting and you smile at the subtlety of the gesture. 

“Miller, I didn’t think bars were your scene,” you called out. 

He shrugs in reply, “Figured you clowns needed a sober driver.”

And with that you were off. You knew Javi had only turned this into a group outing the moment they sat down next to each other in the backseat. Only talking to one another. Javi resorted to sticking his head halfway out the window, and you silently sat on the passenger seat next to Scott. 

The bar you all frequented was a quick drive away from the motel, so Javi’s suffering was short lived. 

Tyler and Kate were the first out of the car, Javi following shortly behind. You and Scott stayed in the car for a second, with the excuse that you dropped your lipgloss and that he wouldn’t leave the truck unlocked. 

“Wanna crash at mine after this?” he asked, turning to face you. 

You hum for a second, “Thought we were staying at mine tonight,” you say with a smile. 

“Are you drinking tonight?”

“Not really, why?” you ask curiously. 

He shrugs, “My bed is way better for hangovers.”

You turn with faux offense, “I don’t get hungover.”

He scoffs, “Yeah right.” He says, grabbing your chin to kiss you quickly. “All I’m saying is my room-“

The ringing from your phone interrupts his words. Javi’s name illuminates the screen. 

You put your finger to your lips before accepting the call. “I’m coming, just found my gloss”

“Girl,” Javi says. 

Scott clears his throat and when you look at him he’s pointing ahead. You follow his gaze and Javi is stood by the bar doors, hip cocked as he looks in the cars direction. 

“Now you really thought I was born yesterday with that stunt y’all pulled,” he says through the phone and hangs up. 

You can see him give you one last look before heading inside. 

“Does this end the your room, my room debate then?” Scott breaks the silence. His smile humorous when you turn to look at him. 

“Oh don’t be so smug,” you mutter. 

“Smug?” he exclaims. “Now I look like the asshole that yelled at his girlfriend,” he says with a laugh. 

Your phone pings with a text from Javi—‘btw kate says scott cant act lol’. 

“Oh don’t you worry about that,” you turn your phone to show him the notification. 

You wouldn’t say you’re prone to accidents, accidents were prone to you. From small things like paper cuts or small burns with the straightener all the way to random things like birds flying into your face, you’ve had them all. 

Clark never failed to be shocked at the ways you always managed to be injured. He found it surprising that Superman could protect the world from ripping apart but he could not stop you from stubbing your toe with the heel of your mary janes. 

He started carrying Neosporin in his pockets, bandaids in the inside of his phone case and a full on bandage on his briefcase. He never knew. 

Most of your injuries were minor, and sometimes even silly. You even joked with Clark about it sometimes.

“I’m like a cat. I always land on my feet and as much as you try to get rid of me, I always come back,” you’d say with a small laugh. 

“That’s not even funny,” he would say only half seriously. Because you were like a cat sometimes. 

He was at about to leave the Planet when he got your call. 

“Hi baby,” he greeted. His voice soft, washing over you like honey. “I was just telling Lois about that cake you-“

You felt bad for interrupting him, you really did. “Clark, sweetie, are you coming home soon?”

“Why? What’s wrong baby?” you could hear him shuffling on the other side, immediately springing into action. 

“Don’t be mad,” you knew he wouldn’t be, he never was. Even when you did the things he would tell you not to do, “I fell from the counter,” you blurted quickly. “Nothing’s broken so I don’t think I need 911 but I can’t move and it’s been like twenty minutes.”

“What?”

“I fell off the counter,” you mumble sheepishly. “I was cleaning over the cupboard and I guess I slipped? No one could see it coming seriously.”

Clark sighed on the other side of the call, “I could’ve. And I have actually”

You can recall every time he questioned your cleaning practices, telling you you’d fall one of these days. Of course you never did, except the one time he wasn’t home. Which made you look bad now. 

“Did anything else fall with you?” He asks, genuinely curious. 

You hum for a moment, “A flower vase.”

“Did it cut you?”

“No?”

His voice goes high and you can hear the sounds of the street, he was on his way. “What do you mean no-question-mark?”

“I don’t feel a cut, Clark. And I don’t see blood or anything,” you examine your legs quickly, making a mental note of all the glass around you. Missing a chunk of it. You look behind you and lo and behold, “Okay small cut in my elbow”

You hear the door slam open, which was a personal record for Clark. 

“Define small,” he asks as he walks into the kitchen. Stepping over glass to get to you. 

You lift your elbow to show it to him, “Just a scratch.” And you were right, it was barely bleeding. 

“Okay,” he says, scooping you up and setting you on top of the counter. 

He opens a cabinet and pulls out his big first aid kit, something he’d acquired only after he started dating you. 

“Okay let’s take a look at that ankle,” he whispers. 

Sometimes you wondered if during these times, when he was tending to you, he was just kinda talking to himself. Self soothing in a way. 

He had a certain concentration look on his face, and you knew he was x-raying your ankle. 

“So no broken bones,” he mumbled. 

“I told you,” you mumble back. Making him shoot you a look that told you to not get cocky about this right now. 

He directs his eyes back to your ankle, “It does seem a bit inflamed tho, does it hurt when I do this?” And you yelp when he moves your ankle around. “So yes.”

“Not that bad, you just caught me off guard” you front. 

“Off guard or not, no weight on this ankle for a couple days.” He wraps your ankle in a bandage, moving to clean the scratch by your elbow. “Can you open one of those big band-aids for me?”

You hum and reach into his first aid kit, fishing for the band-aid he was asking for and opening it in one quick swoosh. 

“Oh shit,” you mumble. Your finger already beginning to redden, paper cut. 

Watching Kale sleep was Clark and yours favorite new thing. You would lay the little baby in your lap as you laid back on Clark’s chest, both of you mesmerized by the way your little boy slept. 

“He floated like ten inches off his crib today,” you mumbled. Caressing Kale’s soft cheek. 

“Yeah?” Clark just grumbled softly, his gaze floating between you and his one month old son. 

You nod, looking back at him. “I think I’ll take him to see your parents tomorrow.”

“Ma has been asking about you,” he says while petting your hair lovingly. “Keeps asking how you’re doing with mini me.”

You grumble at that, looking at Kale who was stirring slightly. 

“Do not even rub it in.” You warn Clark. 

He laughs at your words, knowing he had deliberately gotten you started. “Rub what in, honey.” He says, clearly baiting you. 

“He looks exactly like you Clark,” you whisper, careful of not waking Kale. “I mean look at him, he’s a month old and he already has your hair. What one month old has that?”

“He looks like you,” he says, looking down at Kale. “He has your nose.”

“He has your nose… he has your nose,” you repeat incredulously. Clark stifling a laugh. “I grew him for nine months inside me and he has the audacity of looking exactly like his stupid father.”

Clark chuckles heartily at that, not being the first time he heard your lighthearted complaint. He knows better than anything how much you love seeing him in your little one.

At Clark’s loud laugher, Kale awakens with a cry. Fuzzing in your lap. 

“That’s all you Kent,” you say, handing the teary baby over to Clark as you settle in your bed. 

Clark lays Kale on his chest and immediately starts trying to soothe him, “You know, he has your temperament,” he jokes. 

“Clark you cannot be serious,” you overhear Jimmy from your spot outside the break room. “I mean she’s got a pretty face at least”

“Excuse me?” you didn’t have to see his face to know he wasn’t smiling. Which was unusual for Clark. 

Jimmy sighed before explaining, “Y/N is pretty Clark, not write home about pretty…. but I mean she’s cute,” he paused, sighing. Almost as if he was looking for the right words, if there were even any. “She’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.”

You heard Clark take a sharp breath, you knew he knew how hurtful some people in the office were towards you. Calling you childish, immature and sometimes dumb just because of the way you looked. Or the things you liked. “Jimmy-“

“I guess what I’m trying to say is don’t close yourself up. Not all that sparkles is gold.” You heard him patting Clark on the back and pulled yourself together enough that when he walked by you, it looked like you were just about to walk into the break room. “Y/N! Looking real pink and sparkly today” he exclaimed with a small snicker and walked out of the break room. 

Clark immediately turned to look at you and smiled as his eyes met yours, the smile on your face not really reaching your eyes. 

“Hi beautiful,” he said. Making your brain shut off momentarily. 

———

The next day you show up at the office in your most monotone office outfit, something your mom had gotten you some time back in college for a job fair. Your glittery pens were put inside a drawer alongside any trinket that decorated your desk. 

“Morning sweetheart,” Clark said as he walked in, giving you a puzzled smile. “Where are all your tingymajings?” 

You shrug with a small smile, “Decided to declutter.”

His eyebrows shoot up at your statement, “Okay. Uhm- you still up for a movie tonight?” he asks, leaning against your desk. 

“Yeah, yeah. You can pick the movie,” you offer him a smile and he goes on his way. 

You don’t follow him with your eyes like you usually do, you don’t get up and sit on his desk to talk, you don’t skip or bounce as you walk. And you definitely avoid the break room during lunch, knowing you would not be able to take overhearing another conversation you were not meant to. 

———

“Lois you think I’m dumb?” you asked your friend as you both stood on the roof of the building. 

She gave you a look of confusion as she blew the cigarette smoke out, something she’d swore she’d quit countless times before. Yet you kept walking after her to the roof, just so that she wouldn’t feel alone. “Why would you say that?”

You shrug, looking off at the much lower buildings that surrounded the Daily Planet. “Just wondering I guess.”

“If the interns said something to you again they’re interns babe,” she said, the cigarette between her lips again. She reads the unease in your face, “Is that why the sudden change of look?”

You look down at your pencil skirt, the grey sweater you wore over your white button up feeling itchy and out of place. Not a trace of pink, not a single bow, no glitter, no sparkles, no you. 

“I figured I should look more professional,” you say with a shrug. 

“Did anyone complain?”

You scratch the top of your hair, mindful of not messing up your bun. “No one said anything to me, Lois.”

“Okay,” she decides to not press you further, knowing you’d crack easier like this. 

You blow air out of your mouth, biting the skin of your thumb, “I overheard Clark and Jimmy yesterday”

“I knew it,” she exclaims, her reporter euphoria disappearing quickly. “Clark?”

You nod, pursing your lips. “He didn’t say anything. But Jimmy said im ‘cute at least’ and then made a passing comment about me looking pink.” You say, looking down at your brown mary janes. 

“What do you mean he didn’t say anything? That’s horrible.”

You shrug, “I walked in before any of them said anything else.”

“Well if you won’t say anything then I will,” she said, stubbing the rest of her cigarette against the wall to put it out. 

“You don’t have to do that Lo,” you reason. “I’ll talk to Clark about it later.”

She nods, still unsure. But lets you walk back into the building without another word. 

———

“What do we think about watching Dune?” Clark asks you later at his apartment. 

You fight the way your lips purse, offering him a simple, “Mhm.”

Clark turns back to face you as you get comfortable in the couch, putting the remote down on his coffee table and walking over to the kitchen to grab snacks. 

“I like your outfit today,” he calls out from the kitchen. 

“You do?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek. 

He walks back, handing you a bowl of popcorn. Settling in the couch next to you, “Yeah, a lot actually,”

You grab a handful of popcorn and fill your mouth with it. 

“I think you should stop dressing in pinks and such. Makes you look- I don’t know.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, getting the bits of popcorn that stuck to the sides, “Childish?”

“Oh yeah absolutely,” he says, his tone incredulous. 

You turn to look at him and as you open your mouth you notice his knowing look. 

“Oh okay,” you mumble. Your chest loosening a bit, not completely relieved yet. 

“I yelled at Jimmy after lunch you know?” he grabbed your chin so you’d look at him. “Yesterday.”

“Clark,” you begin. Your complaint immediately shut down by him. 

“No, it was unacceptable sweets.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb softly, “No one speaks about my girl like that.”

Your cheeks flush at his words as you roll your eyes playfully at him. 

“And not that it matters but I love the way you dress,” he says with a small smile. “And you’re the smartest person in the Planet, you run circles around us.”

“I just do my job,” you mumble. 

“Yeah and none of us could keep track of half the things you do.”

He kisses your temple softly as he pulls you against his chest. 

“I hope I see all your trinkets back tomorrow. I missed that little care bear you put over your computer.”

You laugh at his statement, of course he’d love the Superman Care Bear the most. As you settle into him you can’t help but ask, “Clark are we really watching-“

The knocking in the door wakes you from your spot in the couch, slowly stumbling to get up. The knocks get a bit louder as you slip into your hoodie, the air suddenly chilly.

"I'm coming," you croak out, running a hand over your hair to attempt to tame the mess you know is happening over your head.

Another knock makes you sigh out as you unlock the door, opening it a crack while saying a low, "Jesus Christ."

"Y/N," Clark breathes out as his eyes meet yours. He sounds breathless, his hair looking windswept. "I'm so sorry—I got caught up."

You look back at the blinking clock of your microwave, 12:39. "Clark it's midnight," you mumble in reply, looking back at him.

"I know- I- something came up and I got caught up. I'm so sorry."

This was the second time he had stood you up in the last two weeks, and you had, have, a crush on Clark. But you were beginning to wonder if it was just time to call it off for the sake of your dignity.

You sigh, "It's okay." And you offer him a smile, because it was not okay, but it was Clark. Sweet Clark who helped you pick up your papers when you accidentally dropped them on your first day on the Planet. Clark who'd always come in late with your favorite coffee in hand. Clark who kept all the post it notes you left him on his articles when he asked you for your opinion. Clark who always disappeared during the day. Clark who stumbled through inviting you on a date. Clark who asked you to the movies a week ago, and then failed to show. Clark who had told you you could just rent a movie and watch it at your house, and then he failed to show. Again.

Was this reflecting badly on you?

He sighs at the look on your face. "It's not okay. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"We don't have to keep forcing it Clark," you mumble, leaning against the door as you avoid his gaze.

He straightens at that, "No, Y/N- I- I know how this looks. It won't happen again, I can swear to you. Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow, at that place you love, I will explain everything." His hands go to his pockets and you know he is nervous. "I really, really like you," he mumbles.

You nod. "One more chance, Kent."

When you look at him he nods enthusiastically, and you almost forget to be mad when you close the door.

The next morning, Clark is late. Which isn't unusual, what's unusual is the conversation happening between Lois, Jimmy and you.

"You scored an interview with Superman?" Jimmy repeated Lois' previous words. You smile as you take a sip from your coffee, entertained by her friends.

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

Jimmy scoffs, looking at you like somehow you understood what he meant. "I mean he is so not an interview guy. He only ever gives exclusives to Clark."

You give Lois a side nod, Superman was a hard interviewee to land.

"Clark was there too," Lois exclaims and you pause mid-sip. Lois was with Clark last night?

Suddenly you tune them both out, spinning in your chair to face your computer. You hear Clark's cheerful, "Good mornin'." And look to the side as he places a coffee cup next to you on your desk. "See you at seven?" He asks and for a moment you consider saying no. But you nod, and he walks the left couple steps to his desk.

At five, the Planet was almost empty. The only sounds being you and Clark packing up your bags as you chat about your plans.

"Want me to pick you up from your place?" he asks as he approaches you, his briefcase in hand.

"You're already walking me home," you say with a breathy laugh.

He shrugs, "I can do both."

"We can meet up at Centennial Park," you offer. "Then we can walk over to Gino's"

He nods in agreement and follows behind you as you make your way to the elevator, your doubts from earlier completely gone as you slip into comfortable conversation with him.

You lean against the door and catch the dumb smile that pulls at your cheeks, but pull yourself together quickly enough to begin getting ready. After little less than an hour, you're standing in front of your mirror in a nice dress with your hair freshly redone and a bit of makeup adorning your face. You look at the clock and decide to get a head start on your walk to Centennial Park, giddy to see Clark in his outside-of-work look.

You sit at a bench until 8:30, you'd be a fool if you said you were only there to watch the sunset and not secretly waiting for Clark to show. But you stare at the setting sun as you hear your phone ping beside you, knowing that the message was most likely a twitter update about whatever Superman was doing in the city rather than a text from Clark. For those were the only messages you had received for the past hour and fifteen.

You re-read Clark's message for the twentieth time, "On my way!" And stared at your phone, motionless and numb. Were you past the point of pathetically crying? Would it be too embarrassing to be the crying girl at a park that also got stood up?

"You need help miss?" You turn and Superman is landing next to you.

You scoff softly, "Isn't the night vigilante more of a Gotham City staple?" You say with a humorless smile.

You don't miss the way he looks at you, scanning you from head to toe.

"I'm just waiting for-" what were you waiting for? "Just watching the sunset," you finish with a small smile.

Superman points at the spot next to you, "Can I?"

You scoot slightly, making more space for the Kryptonian. "Be my guest."

"You waiting on anybody?" he asks while sitting down next to you.

You hum slightly, "Not really."

"Not really?"

"I mean I was, not anymore I guess," you take a deep breath.

He hums in acknowledgement and looks down at his hands, silence falling over you.

"How come you always give Clark Kent all these exclusive interviews?" you blurt out without giving it much thought.

He chuckles softly, "I- uhm him and I go way back."

"You guys are friends?" you ask, shocked Clark had never mentioned such a thing to you. "He never said anything."

"Private guy."

You bite your lip at that, "Yeah, private."

You let the silence fall between you again, your mind going back to his text. The one you never answered. And the words fall before you can even think them through.

"Has he ever talked about," you stop. Reassesing if this was worth it. "About a Y/N? Or a Lois?"

Superman takes a sharp breath.

"Actually you don't have to tell me," you turn to face the sun again. "Sorry that was a dumb question."

"He talks about you a lot," he mumbles.

You turn to look at him, a questioning look on your face.

"I mean not a lot, lot" he shrugs. "A normal amount. He likes you a lot I think."

"Not enough to show up," you quip at the superhero.

"Something must've come up."

"Something always does," you sigh. "I wish he'd just at least tell me." You look down at your phone again, "He didn't even call."

Silence falls again and without another word, you put your phone up to your ear. Standing up and walking around the bench, Superman's confused gaze following your every move. The silence of the moment breaking when the unmistakable tone of Clark's tone rings. You look around, expecting to see Clark's unmistakable form approaching you. But when you see Superman's slightly panicked look the gears in your head begin to turn, taking you all of twenty seconds to put two and two together.

"Oh my god," you mutter before beginning to walk down the path.

"Y/N," Superman, Clark, calls out after you. Immediately standing up and following you. "Please, let's talk."

"I cannot believe you."

"It was really hard to explain."

"So you just let me sit there like an idiot?"

"Let me explain," he begs, his voice going from Superman's low, strong tone to Clark's slightly higher register.

"Stop following me, I cannot believe you."

"Y/N stop, please."

You keep stomping ahead, only focused on putting more distance between you and Clark. Fuming at how stupid you probably looked not putting everything together before. You don't even turn to check if Superman is still trailing behind you, trusting that he listened to you and left you alone.

But of course, Clark was never good at leaving you to sit in your anger. And when your feet come off the ground, you can't even say you're surprised.

"People are gonna think you're kidnapping women off the street," you grumble. Earning a hearty laugh from Clark. "This is not funny, someone will call the police."

"Come on, we both know that is very silly."

You roll your eyes and wait for him to land you both safely before throwing a fit. So when he lands you on top of your building, you breathe in deep, gearing up to give him an earful.

"Let me explain first, please?" he beats you to the punch. And you do want to hear him out, so you nod. "I'm so sorry, I left you hanging again. And I really didn't mean to. There was an explotion and I thought I'd be quick but it just got worse."

You look at him, noticing the small smudges of ash on his neck and forehead. "Are you okay?" you ask him, because you care about him so much.

He smiles and nods in reply. "I didn't want to tell you about Superman to keep you safe, that sounds so cliche but it's true."

You blink at him, urging him to continue.

"Luthor is always lurking and watching who Superman is close to, I would never want to ever put you in his path"

"Well now you just scooped me up the street," you mumble.

He doesn't find it amusing, "Don't even joke about that."

"So you weren't blowing me off to hang out with Lois?"

"What?" he asks, genuinely confused.

You take a deep breath, "This morning she said she got an exclusive interview with you and Superman? Clark and Superman?" you realize this makes no sense. "An interview with you, and I thought you had just blown me off to hang out with her."

His shoulders fall at your confession. "I would never blow you off on purpose," he starts. "Lois kind of is the only person who knows about... me."

He wipes his palms on his legs and waits for you to say something.

"Is it pathetic that I'm more inclined to forgive you now?"

Clark's eyes light up, "I swear I will be completely honest with you from now on. And I will always come back to you, even if it's a little late." He stops to gage your reaction, "That is if you let me of course."

You smile at the way he falters. Looking so small and adorable, even if he is the size of a mountain and basically indestructible.

"It's still early," you start. His smile growing at what you're implying, "I think my rental of 'How to lose a guy in 10 days' is still good for a couple hours."

He walks the distance between you in two quick strides, picking you up easily off the ground and burying his face in your neck. Pulling away with a big dimpley smile on his face.

"Do you have a change of clothes though?" you start. His brows furrow, "Suit's a little uncomfortable to lay on."

He laughs at your words, "Do not even worry about that." He walks over closer to the door of your building, pulling a duffel bag from a crook in the wall.

"You keep spare clothes in my building?"

When you walk across the bullpen, it's almost in slow motion for Clark. Your hair bounces over your shoulders as you look around, offering everyone in the Planet a soft smile. When you wave at him, his world stops, yet he manages to clumsily wave back quickly without somehow making a fool of himself. Not that you noticing him was unusual, but the shirt that you had decided to wear this morning was. He had never seen anything like it before.

Your outfits were always full of pinks and bows and pastels—not that he paid that much attention. Of course he didn't! But how could he not notice that the shirt you were wearing under your soft cream cardigan was a grey t-shirt with his Superman emblem. Except this one was nothing like he'd ever seen before. It was pink and lacy and frilly and so... you. As you take a seat at your desk by the front of the office and start up your computer, he's already in front of you, a friendly smile on his face.

"Hi Clark." You say with a smile once your eyes meet his, his heart beating a tiny bit faster.

"You were late today." He teases lightheartedly. "Everything alright?"

"Actually I wasn't late at all, I was running errands for Perry."

But he didn't hear the rest, his eyes focused on your bright, sparkly, red and blue nails. Would he be crazy to assume they were also a nod to Superman? Was he going insane? Was it getting hotter in here?

"Did I lose you?" She asks with a small laugh.

"What? N-uh, no. I'm listening. You picked up those pens Perry likes from downtown." He recites back the main point of your story. "Your nails"

You look down at them and tap your fingers against your desk, then moving your hands to rest in front of him. "You like 'em?"

"Yeah! Yeah of course." He replies immediately with a nod. "They're definitely a peculiar color"

Clark bites back a smile as he sees the blush that spreads across your cheeks. "Am I acting like a groupie?"

"So they are for Superman"

You scoff at that. "For them to be for Superman he would have to see them, dummy." You wave your hand dismissively, as if brushing the idea off. "This is just my current white boy of the week I guess."

"White- white boy of the week?" He asks, a puzzled look on his face.

"Yeah like a-"

But your voice is interrupted by Perry calling you into his office, making you get up out of your desk quickly and disappearing into his office. Clark sighs and walks back to his desk. Lois swiveling in her chair as she presumably got up to get another cup of sugary coffee.

"Lois what is a white boy of the week?"

Lois paused in her path to look at him incredulously. "Huh?" Clark could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure out the origin of his question. "Have you been talking to Y/N? This is definitely her doing"

His lack of response was her answer. "She means her crush of the moment" She replies before heading towards the coffee cart again.

You had a crush on Superman? Why did it not feel as rewarding as he would've hoped it would? What did Superman have that he did not? Were you in love with Superman?

He frowned at the idea that swirled in his head, half of him knowing that he was being completely silly about it. He heard Perry's door open, and he knew you'd walk by his desk and stop to chat if he made eye contact—and for some reason, that made him avoid your gaze. Completely missing the way your smile dropped as you stopped in your tracks and changed your course to go straight to your desk.

Lois walked back with a coffee mug in hand, having witnessed it all. "You know you could just ask her out instead of worrying about Supershit," she added the last part as a small way to get under Clark's skin.

Clark just rubbed the back of his neck and got to typing in his computer, another interview with Superman.

The day went slowly without talking to you, usually he would take any small chance he could to walk over to the front desk and talk to you about anything at all. "Did you hear Jimmy went out with that new intern?", "Cat broke it off with that guy, again", "Perry told me sports is getting cut this week". But today he stayed glued to his chair, and it seemed you had noticed his sudden cold shoulder.

So it shouldn't have surprised him when your face looked mildly confused once he walked up to your desk at the end of the day. "Hey- uhm," he paused, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Want me to walk you home?"

Your eyes looked down at the clock and then back at him. "Yeah, let me just pack up," you say with a small smile pulling at your lips as you begin to pack up your stuff into your bag. In no time you both are in the elevator, the silence tentative and unusual.

"So-"

"So-" you both start at the same time, earning the both of you to stop and look at eachother with wide eyes. Laughter breaking the silence.

"You go," you tell him, urging him to finish his thought.

Clark swallows thickly, rubbing his palms into his slacks slightly. "So I wanted to ask you if you'd- uhm if you'd consider perhaps, you know," he clears his throat mid sentence. "Maybe want to grab some dinner this week?"

"Yeah, I'm down," you answered easily, making him facepalm himself mentally. You both had dinner multiple times before. You're friends.

"As a date," he adds, his mouth going dry.

Your smile grows at his addition and he immediately panics. "You don't have to say yes, of course. It's only if you want. I mean it's stupid, I just- you know. I have been wanting to ask you and I guess the Superman stuff got me-"

"Superman?" you cut him off, tilting your head in confusion. The elevator dings and you both step out, simply standing in the lobby facing one another.

"Yeah you just- you said you liked him and I think I felt a bit," he blows air out of his mouth, shrugging as he suddenly feels embarrassed by it all. "I don't know"

"Oh Clark," you begin with a small laugh. "I didn't say I liked him. He's like a celebrity crush, I mean like he doesn't even exist to me you know."

He purses his lips at that, yet lets you continue.

"And I mean, I like someone already."

"You do?" he deflates.