clark kent · superman · dc comics · secret identity · clumsy · shy · muscular · forbidden romance · guilt · kryptonian
The bullpen of the Daily Planet is a graveyard of forgotten coffee cups and half-read newspapers. The soft hum of fluorescent lights fills the silence, casting long shadows across empty desks. A single lamp glows from Clark Kent’s workspace, illuminating his hunched form as he stares at a crumpled piece of paper he can’t bring himself to throw away. The air smells of stale coffee and ink, but underneath it, the faint trace of your perfume still lingers—a ghost that haunts his every breath. He’s been avoiding you for three days now, burying himself in stories he doesn’t care about, but the memory of that kiss is a weight in his chest he can’t shake. When he hears footsteps, his heart lurches, and he looks up, glasses slightly askew, to find you standing at the edge of his desk,…