demxters

[demxters]

Bonus:

SUPERMAN (2025) DIR. JAMES GUNN

[demxters]

getting inspired to create stuff is honestly the meaning of life. like i found a great story and now i wanna make a cool story too. literally could there be any better feeling

[demxters]

—THE BLUE

clark kent x gotham!f!reader

summary: clark kent came out of the blue and into your life, proving that there's more to you than what other people see.

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): superman (2025), fem!reader, reader is from gotham city, language, reader is avoidant, self-judgement, a lil angsty but mostly fluff

a/n: i have so much of gotham!reader that i want to expand on... if that's something anyone wants...and even if no one wants it im doing it anyway :)

FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!

»»——————————————————-««

If there was one thing your coworkers knew it was to not talk to you before you’ve had your morning coffee. When you arrived that morning with a tight lipped smile and rounded shoulders, they knew better than to approach you. However, there was only one person who was the exception to this rule. 

You waste no time dropping your things off at your desk and make a beeline towards the coffee station. 

The scent of bitter beans and a hint of something nutty warms you enough to lessen your early morning headache. You’re too busy filling your cup to notice the body that sidled up beside you. 

“Good morning.” You’re greeted by an unmistakably deep timbre. 

Clark Kent, the exception to your rule. 

From the moment you started working at the Daily Planet, Clark Kent always seemed to be somewhere in your orbit. His bright blue eyes, crooked smile, and endless optimism seeped into your life like hints of sunlight escaping through the cracks of your drawn curtains. You hadn’t meant to let Clark in. You were starting over in Metropolis and your plan was to do your job and fly under the radar. Clark Kent threw that plan down the drain. 

He was persistent, but not pushy. Curious, but respectful. Observant, but not creepy (Okay, maybe a little creepy according to Lois but you find his staring quite endearing). 

He can sense when you have a migraine incoming before you even get the first warning sign. He knows when you want him to listen and when he needs to fill in the silence. He knows you chew on the tip of your pen when you’re deep in thought and how you rapidly bounce your knee when you’re inspired. 

Clark Kent is the exception to your rule and he knows it. He wears it like a first prize ribbon, loudly and proudly. 

“Morning,” you greet him back, reaching around him to grab a cup sleeve. 

Sure, he could easily just hand you one to save you the trouble but he loves that it gives him an excuse to feel your arm brushed up against his. 

He’s still pouring creamer into his cup when you cover your own, taking a long sip and letting out a satisfied sigh. 

“I still can’t believe you drink it like that.” Clark’s nose wrinkles. 

You spin on your heel and head back to your desk with an amused smile on your lips. 

Jimmy, your desk mate, doesn’t look up from his screen as you settle in beside him. “No cream or sugar? Shit’s straight up petroleum. That’s hardcore, Gotham.” 

You harshly exhale. You open your mouth to respond but Lois beats you to it. “How many times does she have to tell you not to call her that?” 

“Sorry,” he cringes, sending you an apologetic smile. 

You take another sip of your coffee and brush him off. “Don’t worry about it.” 

An awkward silence settles amongst you, tension evident in the way your shoulders are now all the way up to your ears. It’s been two years since you moved to Metropolis yet the nickname still made you uneasy. 

You know the way Jimmy said it was all in good fun. It was just another way your colleagues showed some workplace camaraderie. Unlike Clark who preened whenever someone in the office called him Kansas or Smallville, you shrunk into yourself. You weren’t proud of where you came from. It was everything you wanted to leave behind, yet it still lingered. 

Clark saunters back to his desk, watching how you bury yourself further into the collar of your shirt. He clears his throat, spinning in his chair to get a better view of you despite your back being turned to him. “I heard Superman had quite the night yesterday.” 

You don’t even have to turn around to know Lois is rolling her eyes, but you do anyway. 

“Yeah, because destroying City Hall is such a heroic feat,” Lois snorts. 

Jimmy spun around too, bringing himself closer to Clark and Lois with his feet to drag him forward. “Mind you that was after he saved thirty or more people from that weird monster thing.” 

You shrug. “Still, his recklessness just created a bigger headache for the Metropolis government. They were already struggling to pull the funds for their low-income housing project and now they have to repair City Hall.” 

Clark leans forward, raising a brow as his gaze lands on you. “You’re still forgetting the thirty or so people he saved.” 

“Was he heroic? Sure, but he was also careless.” You mimic Clark’s stance, silently challenging him. “Even Superman’s actions have consequences. Regardless of his intentions.” 

He doesn’t say anything in response which has you second guessing your place in the conversation. Everyone in the office knew about Clark’s adoration of Superman. How could they not with him being the only one to actually score interviews with the hero. Did you overstep? Or perhaps come off too harsh? Being a journalist, of course you were going to be opinionated. Yet the idea that you were being a little too much, too heated in the moment, bounced around in your head like an echo. Your chin falls to your chest like you’re hoping that putting your head down will make you turn invisible. 

Clark, on the other hand, hates when you try to disappear. He’s chalked it up to be some kind of defense mechanism you’ve adapted. The thought makes his chest ache because how dare someone try to dim your spark but more importantly he wishes there could’ve been a way for him to protect you from it all. 

He hums thoughtfully, pushing his own bias and pride aside, just to appease you. “I see your point. Superman probably should be held more accountable for the damage he inflicts on the city.” 

“Wha-Clark!” Jimmy stutters in disbelief. 

Lois looks stunned at how easily he backed down. 

Your gaze flits up to Clark’s and your lips tug upwards ever so slightly at the corners. His comment makes you feel a little more proud of yourself. 

You brush it off like it was nothing, turning back around to start your work for the day. 

The difference in your stature may have been small, but to Clark it was everything. 

—————————————————

It’s nearly 9pm by the time the office is nearly empty. You have a habit of being one of the last people to leave at the end of the day. There’s something about the hum of electricity and clacking of your keyboard that helps the words flow right out of you. When the sun is out, the Daily Planet is all chaos and bustling reporters. When everyone leaves, you allow yourself to breathe. Except tonight, you’re not alone. 

While everyone filed out for the night, Clark still hadn’t left. It wasn’t uncommon for people to stay late at the office. Though, you couldn’t help but notice that more often than not Clark would stay on the same nights you do. You know for a fact that he’s not working because unlike you, who has a million and one open tabs on your browser, the only thing on Clark’s was Dog Training For Dummies. 

“I didn’t know you had a dog.” 

Clark, previously hunched over at his desk, darts up and looks at you like he just caught red-handed. He shrugs lamely. “Oh, no I-I don’t,” he stammers. “I’m just dogsitting for my cousin.” 

You hum, wordlessly packing up your things. Clark follows suit, shutting off his monitor and grabbing his suitcase from under his desk. “You know, you didn’t have to stay here with me.” 

His leather dress shoes come into focus at your feet and you can smell his cologne, light and faintly there, overpowered by the scent of his laundry detergent and something you couldn’t put a name to that you could only describe as something distinctly Clark.  

He doesn’t even let you bring your bag halfway to your shoulder before he’s taking it out of your hands and swinging it onto his. Your heart skips a beat at the action. Thoughtful, a dog lover, and a gentleman? Clark Kent really was the man of your dreams. 

“I wanted to.” He says it with ease, like it was a no-brainer. His smile is all dimples and sparkling blues. “Let me walk you home?” 

The apples of your cheeks start to burn and all you can do is nod. He starts for the elevator and you follow in a trance. 

The walk home is perfect. There’s something about Clark that makes you feel free. He makes you feel like you’re allowed to just be. You’ve never had to put up an act around Clark like you do with everyone else. You smile a little wider, laugh a little louder, and lower your walls just a little more when you’re with him. 

He stays on the side of the street because of course he does, keeping you away from any passing cars. Your bag rests snugly on his shoulders, his hands in his pockets. Every now and then he’ll walk just a little closer, brushing his arm against yours. An action you thoughtlessly return each time he does it. 

You didn’t think the night could get any better. Then, it starts to rain. 

You shriek and grab Clark’s hand. He’s so warm against your cold and wet hand as you run under the nearest awning. You laugh while Clark hastily takes off his jacket. He carefully sets your bag on top of his suitcase so it’s only his things that are on the wet ground. The awning does little to keep you both dry so Clark takes one step closer to you and lifts his jacket above his head to shelter the both of you. 

He looks ridiculous like this–hunched over, his stupidly large glasses covered in water droplets as it slides down the slope of his nose, and his curls matted to his head like a wet dog. Clark’s laughing now too and you look at him and smile. 

The moment you lock eyes, the air between you shifts. Something changes in the way Clark’s looking at you and it makes you feel bare. 

The rain is so loud you have to shout so he can hear you. “What?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he declares. 

It’s then that you truly understand. Clark Kent sees you. He always has. Not just as the girl from Gotham who feels like she has something to prove. You’ve never had to prove anything. Not to him. Not when he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. 

“Clark…” You’re rendered breathless by the man in front of you. 

He drops his head a little more so his forehead and the tip of his nose brush lightly against yours. He nudges you softly, silently telling you to take your time. That he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. 

There’s not enough words in the English language to describe how you feel about Clark, but love is very close. You’re not ready to voice that word aloud, afraid that once you do, he’ll slip away. 

So instead you let your body talk for you. You surge up on your toes, pressing Clark’s lips to yours. You bring your hands up to cup his face, pulling him closer. 

The sound he lets out is one you’ll never forget. It comes from the deepest part of his chest, needy and full of want. 

Clark throws all caution to the wind, dropping his jacket in favor of using his hands to wrap around your waist and hold you. One hand skims the curve of your spine to the back of your neck. He cradles you like you’re something precious. And to him, you are. 

You don’t care that it’s pouring rain or that your shoes are filled with water. Everything is perfect. 

Clark has to practically pry himself off you. He’s wearing the widest grin you’ve ever seen. His eyes are still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “Wow,” he sighs, almost like he couldn’t believe this was real. “That was… wow.” 

You chuckle. “That good, huh?” 

He exhales shakily. “This isn’t how I wanted our first kiss to go.” 

“You’ve thought of our first kiss?” 

Clark looks down bashfully. Water droplets drip down his lashes and settle on his porcelain skin. “I always think of you.” He opens his eyes fully to get a better look at you. 

You desperately want to kiss him again. It takes all your self control not to. You find that vulnerability comes easy when you’re with Clark. He makes you feel seen. He makes you feel safe. “I always think of you too.” 

You didn’t think that Clark’s smile could get any bigger, but it did. He was glowing in the streetlights. Your hands haven’t dropped from his face. Clark leans further into your touch. “My ma would go crazy if she knew I kissed a girl before our first date.” 

“In your defense, I did kiss you first.” 

“And as much as I want to kiss you again, I want to do this right.” He takes your hands that are resting on his cheeks and holds them to his chest, hoping you can feel how strongly his heart beats for you. “Let me take you out. We’ll get all dressed up, stop by that new art exhibit you’ve been wanting to see, and maybe get some dinner?” 

You’re more confident, more bold now that you know the feelings you’ve harbored for so long are reciprocated. “Clark Kent, you know the way to a woman’s heart.”  

“Darling, your heart’s the only one I need to know.”  

You don’t know how long you stand out in the rain. You’ll probably wake up tomorrow morning with a cold. But being here in Clark’s arms, both of your hearts beating together as one, makes it all worth it. 

[demxters]

PEDRO PASCAL Vanity Fair

[demxters]

scarlet johannson did not spend an entire decade fighting tooth and nail to make natasha into an actual character instead of the sex object writers wanted her to be while also having to endure the most vile, misogynistic questions during press tours for people to now disrespect her legacy because yelena is 'better'. the only reason why that is, is because of everything scarlet went through. natasha singlehandedly paved the way for every other female superhero in the mcu and don't you forget that

[demxters]

sundays rule number 1: DON'T THINK ABOUT YOUR LIFE

[demxters]

at the dental office and they’re playing somebody else by the 1975

[demxters]

We have to bring back physical concert tickets I'm so serious

[demxters]

july 31st

[demxters]

reblog to give prev a little sticker and tell them you’re proud of them

[demxters]

Rachel Brosnahan as Lois Lane — Superman (2025) dir. James Gunn

[demxters]

—THE BLUE

clark kent x gotham!f!reader

summary: clark kent came out of the blue and into your life, proving that there's more to you than what other people see.

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): superman (2025), fem!reader, reader is from gotham city, language, reader is avoidant, self-judgement, a lil angsty but mostly fluff

a/n: i have so much of gotham!reader that i want to expand on... if that's something anyone wants...and even if no one wants it im doing it anyway :)

FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!

»»——————————————————-««

If there was one thing your coworkers knew it was to not talk to you before you’ve had your morning coffee. When you arrived that morning with a tight lipped smile and rounded shoulders, they knew better than to approach you. However, there was only one person who was the exception to this rule. 

You waste no time dropping your things off at your desk and make a beeline towards the coffee station. 

The scent of bitter beans and a hint of something nutty warms you enough to lessen your early morning headache. You’re too busy filling your cup to notice the body that sidled up beside you. 

“Good morning.” You’re greeted by an unmistakably deep timbre. 

Clark Kent, the exception to your rule. 

From the moment you started working at the Daily Planet, Clark Kent always seemed to be somewhere in your orbit. His bright blue eyes, crooked smile, and endless optimism seeped into your life like hints of sunlight escaping through the cracks of your drawn curtains. You hadn’t meant to let Clark in. You were starting over in Metropolis and your plan was to do your job and fly under the radar. Clark Kent threw that plan down the drain. 

He was persistent, but not pushy. Curious, but respectful. Observant, but not creepy (Okay, maybe a little creepy according to Lois but you find his staring quite endearing). 

He can sense when you have a migraine incoming before you even get the first warning sign. He knows when you want him to listen and when he needs to fill in the silence. He knows you chew on the tip of your pen when you’re deep in thought and how you rapidly bounce your knee when you’re inspired. 

Clark Kent is the exception to your rule and he knows it. He wears it like a first prize ribbon, loudly and proudly. 

“Morning,” you greet him back, reaching around him to grab a cup sleeve. 

Sure, he could easily just hand you one to save you the trouble but he loves that it gives him an excuse to feel your arm brushed up against his. 

He’s still pouring creamer into his cup when you cover your own, taking a long sip and letting out a satisfied sigh. 

“I still can’t believe you drink it like that.” Clark’s nose wrinkles. 

You spin on your heel and head back to your desk with an amused smile on your lips. 

Jimmy, your desk mate, doesn’t look up from his screen as you settle in beside him. “No cream or sugar? Shit’s straight up petroleum. That’s hardcore, Gotham.” 

You harshly exhale. You open your mouth to respond but Lois beats you to it. “How many times does she have to tell you not to call her that?” 

“Sorry,” he cringes, sending you an apologetic smile. 

You take another sip of your coffee and brush him off. “Don’t worry about it.” 

An awkward silence settles amongst you, tension evident in the way your shoulders are now all the way up to your ears. It’s been two years since you moved to Metropolis yet the nickname still made you uneasy. 

You know the way Jimmy said it was all in good fun. It was just another way your colleagues showed some workplace camaraderie. Unlike Clark who preened whenever someone in the office called him Kansas or Smallville, you shrunk into yourself. You weren’t proud of where you came from. It was everything you wanted to leave behind, yet it still lingered. 

Clark saunters back to his desk, watching how you bury yourself further into the collar of your shirt. He clears his throat, spinning in his chair to get a better view of you despite your back being turned to him. “I heard Superman had quite the night yesterday.” 

You don’t even have to turn around to know Lois is rolling her eyes, but you do anyway. 

“Yeah, because destroying City Hall is such a heroic feat,” Lois snorts. 

Jimmy spun around too, bringing himself closer to Clark and Lois with his feet to drag him forward. “Mind you that was after he saved thirty or more people from that weird monster thing.” 

You shrug. “Still, his recklessness just created a bigger headache for the Metropolis government. They were already struggling to pull the funds for their low-income housing project and now they have to repair City Hall.” 

Clark leans forward, raising a brow as his gaze lands on you. “You’re still forgetting the thirty or so people he saved.” 

“Was he heroic? Sure, but he was also careless.” You mimic Clark’s stance, silently challenging him. “Even Superman’s actions have consequences. Regardless of his intentions.” 

He doesn’t say anything in response which has you second guessing your place in the conversation. Everyone in the office knew about Clark’s adoration of Superman. How could they not with him being the only one to actually score interviews with the hero. Did you overstep? Or perhaps come off too harsh? Being a journalist, of course you were going to be opinionated. Yet the idea that you were being a little too much, too heated in the moment, bounced around in your head like an echo. Your chin falls to your chest like you’re hoping that putting your head down will make you turn invisible. 

Clark, on the other hand, hates when you try to disappear. He’s chalked it up to be some kind of defense mechanism you’ve adapted. The thought makes his chest ache because how dare someone try to dim your spark but more importantly he wishes there could’ve been a way for him to protect you from it all. 

He hums thoughtfully, pushing his own bias and pride aside, just to appease you. “I see your point. Superman probably should be held more accountable for the damage he inflicts on the city.” 

“Wha-Clark!” Jimmy stutters in disbelief. 

Lois looks stunned at how easily he backed down. 

Your gaze flits up to Clark’s and your lips tug upwards ever so slightly at the corners. His comment makes you feel a little more proud of yourself. 

You brush it off like it was nothing, turning back around to start your work for the day. 

The difference in your stature may have been small, but to Clark it was everything. 

—————————————————

It’s nearly 9pm by the time the office is nearly empty. You have a habit of being one of the last people to leave at the end of the day. There’s something about the hum of electricity and clacking of your keyboard that helps the words flow right out of you. When the sun is out, the Daily Planet is all chaos and bustling reporters. When everyone leaves, you allow yourself to breathe. Except tonight, you’re not alone. 

While everyone filed out for the night, Clark still hadn’t left. It wasn’t uncommon for people to stay late at the office. Though, you couldn’t help but notice that more often than not Clark would stay on the same nights you do. You know for a fact that he’s not working because unlike you, who has a million and one open tabs on your browser, the only thing on Clark’s was Dog Training For Dummies. 

“I didn’t know you had a dog.” 

Clark, previously hunched over at his desk, darts up and looks at you like he just caught red-handed. He shrugs lamely. “Oh, no I-I don’t,” he stammers. “I’m just dogsitting for my cousin.” 

You hum, wordlessly packing up your things. Clark follows suit, shutting off his monitor and grabbing his suitcase from under his desk. “You know, you didn’t have to stay here with me.” 

His leather dress shoes come into focus at your feet and you can smell his cologne, light and faintly there, overpowered by the scent of his laundry detergent and something you couldn’t put a name to that you could only describe as something distinctly Clark.  

He doesn’t even let you bring your bag halfway to your shoulder before he’s taking it out of your hands and swinging it onto his. Your heart skips a beat at the action. Thoughtful, a dog lover, and a gentleman? Clark Kent really was the man of your dreams. 

“I wanted to.” He says it with ease, like it was a no-brainer. His smile is all dimples and sparkling blues. “Let me walk you home?” 

The apples of your cheeks start to burn and all you can do is nod. He starts for the elevator and you follow in a trance. 

The walk home is perfect. There’s something about Clark that makes you feel free. He makes you feel like you’re allowed to just be. You’ve never had to put up an act around Clark like you do with everyone else. You smile a little wider, laugh a little louder, and lower your walls just a little more when you’re with him. 

He stays on the side of the street because of course he does, keeping you away from any passing cars. Your bag rests snugly on his shoulders, his hands in his pockets. Every now and then he’ll walk just a little closer, brushing his arm against yours. An action you thoughtlessly return each time he does it. 

You didn’t think the night could get any better. Then, it starts to rain. 

You shriek and grab Clark’s hand. He’s so warm against your cold and wet hand as you run under the nearest awning. You laugh while Clark hastily takes off his jacket. He carefully sets your bag on top of his suitcase so it’s only his things that are on the wet ground. The awning does little to keep you both dry so Clark takes one step closer to you and lifts his jacket above his head to shelter the both of you. 

He looks ridiculous like this–hunched over, his stupidly large glasses covered in water droplets as it slides down the slope of his nose, and his curls matted to his head like a wet dog. Clark’s laughing now too and you look at him and smile. 

The moment you lock eyes, the air between you shifts. Something changes in the way Clark’s looking at you and it makes you feel bare. 

The rain is so loud you have to shout so he can hear you. “What?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he declares. 

It’s then that you truly understand. Clark Kent sees you. He always has. Not just as the girl from Gotham who feels like she has something to prove. You’ve never had to prove anything. Not to him. Not when he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. 

“Clark…” You’re rendered breathless by the man in front of you. 

He drops his head a little more so his forehead and the tip of his nose brush lightly against yours. He nudges you softly, silently telling you to take your time. That he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. 

There’s not enough words in the English language to describe how you feel about Clark, but love is very close. You’re not ready to voice that word aloud, afraid that once you do, he’ll slip away. 

So instead you let your body talk for you. You surge up on your toes, pressing Clark’s lips to yours. You bring your hands up to cup his face, pulling him closer. 

The sound he lets out is one you’ll never forget. It comes from the deepest part of his chest, needy and full of want. 

Clark throws all caution to the wind, dropping his jacket in favor of using his hands to wrap around your waist and hold you. One hand skims the curve of your spine to the back of your neck. He cradles you like you’re something precious. And to him, you are. 

You don’t care that it’s pouring rain or that your shoes are filled with water. Everything is perfect. 

Clark has to practically pry himself off you. He’s wearing the widest grin you’ve ever seen. His eyes are still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “Wow,” he sighs, almost like he couldn’t believe this was real. “That was… wow.” 

You chuckle. “That good, huh?” 

He exhales shakily. “This isn’t how I wanted our first kiss to go.” 

“You’ve thought of our first kiss?” 

Clark looks down bashfully. Water droplets drip down his lashes and settle on his porcelain skin. “I always think of you.” He opens his eyes fully to get a better look at you. 

You desperately want to kiss him again. It takes all your self control not to. You find that vulnerability comes easy when you’re with Clark. He makes you feel seen. He makes you feel safe. “I always think of you too.” 

You didn’t think that Clark’s smile could get any bigger, but it did. He was glowing in the streetlights. Your hands haven’t dropped from his face. Clark leans further into your touch. “My ma would go crazy if she knew I kissed a girl before our first date.” 

“In your defense, I did kiss you first.” 

“And as much as I want to kiss you again, I want to do this right.” He takes your hands that are resting on his cheeks and holds them to his chest, hoping you can feel how strongly his heart beats for you. “Let me take you out. We’ll get all dressed up, stop by that new art exhibit you’ve been wanting to see, and maybe get some dinner?” 

You’re more confident, more bold now that you know the feelings you’ve harbored for so long are reciprocated. “Clark Kent, you know the way to a woman’s heart.”  

“Darling, your heart’s the only one I need to know.”  

You don’t know how long you stand out in the rain. You’ll probably wake up tomorrow morning with a cold. But being here in Clark’s arms, both of your hearts beating together as one, makes it all worth it. 

[demxters]

Just to clarify, I am not Superman. I'm playing Superman in the movie and I'm very lucky to be getting to do that, but I'm David.

[demxters]

Sits on your dash

[demxters]

“abandonment issues girl x devoted til death boy” trope my beloved

[demxters]

my dream as a fanfic writer is for one day, one of my fics to be someones comfort fic. like the fic that they reread when they don't feel good and want to be happy. i want my words to comfort someone one day

[demxters]

—THE BLUE

clark kent x gotham!f!reader

summary: clark kent came out of the blue and into your life, proving that there's more to you than what other people see.

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): superman (2025), fem!reader, reader is from gotham city, language, reader is avoidant, self-judgement, a lil angsty but mostly fluff

a/n: i have so much of gotham!reader that i want to expand on... if that's something anyone wants...and even if no one wants it im doing it anyway :)

FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!

»»——————————————————-««

If there was one thing your coworkers knew it was to not talk to you before you’ve had your morning coffee. When you arrived that morning with a tight lipped smile and rounded shoulders, they knew better than to approach you. However, there was only one person who was the exception to this rule. 

You waste no time dropping your things off at your desk and make a beeline towards the coffee station. 

The scent of bitter beans and a hint of something nutty warms you enough to lessen your early morning headache. You’re too busy filling your cup to notice the body that sidled up beside you. 

“Good morning.” You’re greeted by an unmistakably deep timbre. 

Clark Kent, the exception to your rule. 

From the moment you started working at the Daily Planet, Clark Kent always seemed to be somewhere in your orbit. His bright blue eyes, crooked smile, and endless optimism seeped into your life like hints of sunlight escaping through the cracks of your drawn curtains. You hadn’t meant to let Clark in. You were starting over in Metropolis and your plan was to do your job and fly under the radar. Clark Kent threw that plan down the drain. 

He was persistent, but not pushy. Curious, but respectful. Observant, but not creepy (Okay, maybe a little creepy according to Lois but you find his staring quite endearing). 

He can sense when you have a migraine incoming before you even get the first warning sign. He knows when you want him to listen and when he needs to fill in the silence. He knows you chew on the tip of your pen when you’re deep in thought and how you rapidly bounce your knee when you’re inspired. 

Clark Kent is the exception to your rule and he knows it. He wears it like a first prize ribbon, loudly and proudly. 

“Morning,” you greet him back, reaching around him to grab a cup sleeve. 

Sure, he could easily just hand you one to save you the trouble but he loves that it gives him an excuse to feel your arm brushed up against his. 

He’s still pouring creamer into his cup when you cover your own, taking a long sip and letting out a satisfied sigh. 

“I still can’t believe you drink it like that.” Clark’s nose wrinkles. 

You spin on your heel and head back to your desk with an amused smile on your lips. 

Jimmy, your desk mate, doesn’t look up from his screen as you settle in beside him. “No cream or sugar? Shit’s straight up petroleum. That’s hardcore, Gotham.” 

You harshly exhale. You open your mouth to respond but Lois beats you to it. “How many times does she have to tell you not to call her that?” 

“Sorry,” he cringes, sending you an apologetic smile. 

You take another sip of your coffee and brush him off. “Don’t worry about it.” 

An awkward silence settles amongst you, tension evident in the way your shoulders are now all the way up to your ears. It’s been two years since you moved to Metropolis yet the nickname still made you uneasy. 

You know the way Jimmy said it was all in good fun. It was just another way your colleagues showed some workplace camaraderie. Unlike Clark who preened whenever someone in the office called him Kansas or Smallville, you shrunk into yourself. You weren’t proud of where you came from. It was everything you wanted to leave behind, yet it still lingered. 

Clark saunters back to his desk, watching how you bury yourself further into the collar of your shirt. He clears his throat, spinning in his chair to get a better view of you despite your back being turned to him. “I heard Superman had quite the night yesterday.” 

You don’t even have to turn around to know Lois is rolling her eyes, but you do anyway. 

“Yeah, because destroying City Hall is such a heroic feat,” Lois snorts. 

Jimmy spun around too, bringing himself closer to Clark and Lois with his feet to drag him forward. “Mind you that was after he saved thirty or more people from that weird monster thing.” 

You shrug. “Still, his recklessness just created a bigger headache for the Metropolis government. They were already struggling to pull the funds for their low-income housing project and now they have to repair City Hall.” 

Clark leans forward, raising a brow as his gaze lands on you. “You’re still forgetting the thirty or so people he saved.” 

“Was he heroic? Sure, but he was also careless.” You mimic Clark’s stance, silently challenging him. “Even Superman’s actions have consequences. Regardless of his intentions.” 

He doesn’t say anything in response which has you second guessing your place in the conversation. Everyone in the office knew about Clark’s adoration of Superman. How could they not with him being the only one to actually score interviews with the hero. Did you overstep? Or perhaps come off too harsh? Being a journalist, of course you were going to be opinionated. Yet the idea that you were being a little too much, too heated in the moment, bounced around in your head like an echo. Your chin falls to your chest like you’re hoping that putting your head down will make you turn invisible. 

Clark, on the other hand, hates when you try to disappear. He’s chalked it up to be some kind of defense mechanism you’ve adapted. The thought makes his chest ache because how dare someone try to dim your spark but more importantly he wishes there could’ve been a way for him to protect you from it all. 

He hums thoughtfully, pushing his own bias and pride aside, just to appease you. “I see your point. Superman probably should be held more accountable for the damage he inflicts on the city.” 

“Wha-Clark!” Jimmy stutters in disbelief. 

Lois looks stunned at how easily he backed down. 

Your gaze flits up to Clark’s and your lips tug upwards ever so slightly at the corners. His comment makes you feel a little more proud of yourself. 

You brush it off like it was nothing, turning back around to start your work for the day. 

The difference in your stature may have been small, but to Clark it was everything. 

—————————————————

It’s nearly 9pm by the time the office is nearly empty. You have a habit of being one of the last people to leave at the end of the day. There’s something about the hum of electricity and clacking of your keyboard that helps the words flow right out of you. When the sun is out, the Daily Planet is all chaos and bustling reporters. When everyone leaves, you allow yourself to breathe. Except tonight, you’re not alone. 

While everyone filed out for the night, Clark still hadn’t left. It wasn’t uncommon for people to stay late at the office. Though, you couldn’t help but notice that more often than not Clark would stay on the same nights you do. You know for a fact that he’s not working because unlike you, who has a million and one open tabs on your browser, the only thing on Clark’s was Dog Training For Dummies. 

“I didn’t know you had a dog.” 

Clark, previously hunched over at his desk, darts up and looks at you like he just caught red-handed. He shrugs lamely. “Oh, no I-I don’t,” he stammers. “I’m just dogsitting for my cousin.” 

You hum, wordlessly packing up your things. Clark follows suit, shutting off his monitor and grabbing his suitcase from under his desk. “You know, you didn’t have to stay here with me.” 

His leather dress shoes come into focus at your feet and you can smell his cologne, light and faintly there, overpowered by the scent of his laundry detergent and something you couldn’t put a name to that you could only describe as something distinctly Clark.  

He doesn’t even let you bring your bag halfway to your shoulder before he’s taking it out of your hands and swinging it onto his. Your heart skips a beat at the action. Thoughtful, a dog lover, and a gentleman? Clark Kent really was the man of your dreams. 

“I wanted to.” He says it with ease, like it was a no-brainer. His smile is all dimples and sparkling blues. “Let me walk you home?” 

The apples of your cheeks start to burn and all you can do is nod. He starts for the elevator and you follow in a trance. 

The walk home is perfect. There’s something about Clark that makes you feel free. He makes you feel like you’re allowed to just be. You’ve never had to put up an act around Clark like you do with everyone else. You smile a little wider, laugh a little louder, and lower your walls just a little more when you’re with him. 

He stays on the side of the street because of course he does, keeping you away from any passing cars. Your bag rests snugly on his shoulders, his hands in his pockets. Every now and then he’ll walk just a little closer, brushing his arm against yours. An action you thoughtlessly return each time he does it. 

You didn’t think the night could get any better. Then, it starts to rain. 

You shriek and grab Clark’s hand. He’s so warm against your cold and wet hand as you run under the nearest awning. You laugh while Clark hastily takes off his jacket. He carefully sets your bag on top of his suitcase so it’s only his things that are on the wet ground. The awning does little to keep you both dry so Clark takes one step closer to you and lifts his jacket above his head to shelter the both of you. 

He looks ridiculous like this–hunched over, his stupidly large glasses covered in water droplets as it slides down the slope of his nose, and his curls matted to his head like a wet dog. Clark’s laughing now too and you look at him and smile. 

The moment you lock eyes, the air between you shifts. Something changes in the way Clark’s looking at you and it makes you feel bare. 

The rain is so loud you have to shout so he can hear you. “What?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he declares. 

It’s then that you truly understand. Clark Kent sees you. He always has. Not just as the girl from Gotham who feels like she has something to prove. You’ve never had to prove anything. Not to him. Not when he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. 

“Clark…” You’re rendered breathless by the man in front of you. 

He drops his head a little more so his forehead and the tip of his nose brush lightly against yours. He nudges you softly, silently telling you to take your time. That he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. 

There’s not enough words in the English language to describe how you feel about Clark, but love is very close. You’re not ready to voice that word aloud, afraid that once you do, he’ll slip away. 

So instead you let your body talk for you. You surge up on your toes, pressing Clark’s lips to yours. You bring your hands up to cup his face, pulling him closer. 

The sound he lets out is one you’ll never forget. It comes from the deepest part of his chest, needy and full of want. 

Clark throws all caution to the wind, dropping his jacket in favor of using his hands to wrap around your waist and hold you. One hand skims the curve of your spine to the back of your neck. He cradles you like you’re something precious. And to him, you are. 

You don’t care that it’s pouring rain or that your shoes are filled with water. Everything is perfect. 

Clark has to practically pry himself off you. He’s wearing the widest grin you’ve ever seen. His eyes are still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “Wow,” he sighs, almost like he couldn’t believe this was real. “That was… wow.” 

You chuckle. “That good, huh?” 

He exhales shakily. “This isn’t how I wanted our first kiss to go.” 

“You’ve thought of our first kiss?” 

Clark looks down bashfully. Water droplets drip down his lashes and settle on his porcelain skin. “I always think of you.” He opens his eyes fully to get a better look at you. 

You desperately want to kiss him again. It takes all your self control not to. You find that vulnerability comes easy when you’re with Clark. He makes you feel seen. He makes you feel safe. “I always think of you too.” 

You didn’t think that Clark’s smile could get any bigger, but it did. He was glowing in the streetlights. Your hands haven’t dropped from his face. Clark leans further into your touch. “My ma would go crazy if she knew I kissed a girl before our first date.” 

“In your defense, I did kiss you first.” 

“And as much as I want to kiss you again, I want to do this right.” He takes your hands that are resting on his cheeks and holds them to his chest, hoping you can feel how strongly his heart beats for you. “Let me take you out. We’ll get all dressed up, stop by that new art exhibit you’ve been wanting to see, and maybe get some dinner?” 

You’re more confident, more bold now that you know the feelings you’ve harbored for so long are reciprocated. “Clark Kent, you know the way to a woman’s heart.”  

“Darling, your heart’s the only one I need to know.”  

You don’t know how long you stand out in the rain. You’ll probably wake up tomorrow morning with a cold. But being here in Clark’s arms, both of your hearts beating together as one, makes it all worth it.