Work Text:
Clark moped around like a dog. You've been intentionally avoiding him the past few days and he's been taking it hard. You gave him plenty of chances and let go of most of his excuses because he didn't seem like a sleazy guy. Just one who was really shitty at lying to the only woman that has his eye.
He'd been subtly following you around. Peeking past doorframes of rooms you were in and pretending to do something just so nobody would be suspicious. He'd shyly put your favorite hot drink on your desk while you were in meetings--and only a few have gone cold. Clark knew he fucked up, missing the one thing he kept reminding himself of before going out and saving people.
The deadline.
It's literally circled multiple times on his calendar and he forgot. He missed the deadline to your biggest story yet. Didn't even shoot you a text. And boy were you pissed. But that's what was killing him. You're the type to not sugarcoat much. You don't get paid to cushion the blow. Beating around the bush doesn't win awards or earn anyone's respect. You were silently angry with him.
You walked past him without so much as a glance for the past few days. Like he didn't exist. You kept leaving his messages on read. And most of all, you didn't even seem upset. You spoke and joked with people like Lois, Jimmy, and Cat like normal. But even they noticed--including Perry--that you were ignoring Clark.
Yet the absolute worst part of all this is that...he was kinda into it.
Yes, he knows it's terrible what he did and will never stop apologizing profusely until you verbally him to stop, but...you're so hot when you're like this. Intense. Blatant or subtle. It was an all out war between sheer guilt and pure attraction.
It was when you set a pile of copies on your desk and went to use the bathroom, the descendant clicking of your heels caught up to Clark's hearing in an instant--you had to go the second floor since the one on the first was being cleaned. Once you finished in there, the moment you stepped out, there he was, standing there like a scolded child trying to lessen his sentence. You could see him physically flinch at your scowl.
"Clark," you said his name so casually. Too casually. Too calm. "You're in my away."
Clark gulped audibly--almost cartoonishly--, his heart pounding in his chest as he met your stern gaze. He knew that calm demeanor all too well. It was the same one you used when you were absolutely furious but refused to cause a scene. The same one that made his palms sweat and his stomach twist into knots.
"I just...I just want to talk."
Your eyes narrow as you take a few steps forward, seeing the 6'4 man shrink under your gaze.
"After work." You grit. All he does is nod and watch you walk away with that irritated pep in your step. Ass popping in that that pencil skirt and those moisturized legs reflecting light like nobody's business. Clark didn't fear much, especially when fighting alien beings on nearly a weekly basis, but you are definitely the scariest, toughest woman--no, human being he's ever met.
And it's so..so fucking hot.
-
"I just don't understand," you scoffed while shedding your jacket and peeling off your heels. Taking your hair down with an annoyed huff because it decided this time to be difficult. "I don't understand how one can 'forget' such a big step in my career. Our career."
He watched you, again, like a scolded dog. Standing awkwardly at the door with his bag still strapped to his chest. Those pretty boy eyes never worked on you. At least...not openly. You were just in your skirt and blouse now half-open. Bra almost fully visible. Whether or not if it was intentional was the last thing on Clark's mind.
You poured one, two, three glasses of wine to relax. Luckily Perry didn't penalize you both and gave a second chance to release said story, but that didn't make it any less irritating. You weren't the type of person to be late, let alone put out a big story late. And the fact that you had to depend on Clark, your loving boyfriend that you wish you could smack upside the head sometimes, didn't hold his weight still got to you.
You put the glass down on the counter with a heavy sigh, cutting an eye at him. The wine wasn't helping. When you walked to your bedroom, you didn't hear his footsteps following behind. So, with a quick glance over your shoulder that said it all.
He basically jumped out of his shoes and tossed his bag to the ground trying to reach you--without raising suspicion, of course. No super speed even though he would've appeared in your room seconds before you.
He fell back onto the bed with a surprised noise leaving his lips. Pupils dilating. Your blouse fully unbuttoned, bra on full display.
"Undo your pants."
He obeyed. Hands scrambling to unbuckle his belt and zipper. He didn't go any further because you didn't tell him to.
The woman of his dreams has no idea that the strongest being on the planet is the weakest in her presence.
Your blouse hit the wooden floor with a soft thud. Bra still on with no intention of removing it. You swiftly pulled down your underwear and kicked it off, skirt pulled up to your hips as you climbed on top of him.
Nothing beats the sensation of the first push; the first time entering someone's body. He shuddered and closed his eyes for just a second before he felt his jaw getting grabbed and forced to face forward.
"Look at me."
He did. Cold stare into those glossy blues while setting a fast pace already. The furrow in your brows, the way they knitted together with determination. A clear goal: getting yourself off.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. Trying in his truest best efforts to hold those eyes still. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to. Your grip on his jaw tightened slightly, nails digging into his indestructible skin as you continued your relentless pace.
"Please," he whispered with strain in his voice. Mouth squished. Chest feeling a thousand times heavier for pissing you off this badly. The only other time he's seen you this mad was when Vicki Vale got to a scene quicker than you and stole your entire story. "I'm sorry."
The squeezing feeling of your walls enveloping him was overloading his heightened senses. It was pure ecstasy. Pure bliss. And yet, this festering tension of pent-up frustration and anger that only served to make him incredibly more horny.
Your breaths started to become irregular. Grip wavering on his face, thighs trembling a bit. No matter how hard you tried to suppress your moans through heavy breathing, they still shined through. He knew that this was your way of punishing him. Of making him pay for his unforgivable mistake. But damn...if it wasn't the hottest thing he had ever experienced in his life. The way your body moved above him, focused solely on chasing your own pleasure. Using him like a toy. A mere object.
Your breasts bounced with each roll of your hips, the swell of your cleavage straining against the confines of your bra. He attempted to reach out and hold you, but you slapped his hand away and leaned forward to change the angle by a fraction and that was enough to get you to reach climax a whole lot faster.
You buried your face by his neck, still bouncing in his lap as you indulged and selfishly took in his scent just to overwhelm him even more in a short span of time. Moans and groans playing beautifully against his ear drums. His own end was on its way... and you knew that.
A few seconds before he could reach bliss in tandem, you let go of his face and rolled over on your back next to him. His eyes shot open, looking at you like he was offended. Hurt.
"I didn't say we were done."
Clark sat up and hovered over you, gasping at you suddenly pulling him down by his tie. One inch from your face as he stumbled fixing his glasses with urgency--he remembered you liked when he kept them on during sex.
The tip rubbed and poked at your heat like it was politely knocking. A guilty boyfriend at your door with flowers hoping and praying that you'll open the door.
"Go on," you said, "show me you're sorry."
You don't have to tell him twice. He thrusted forward before your sentence even finished, earning a shuddering, deep whine. Music to your ears. He set the same pace you did earlier, and watching the resolve on your face slowly fade was this close to getting him to cum on the spot.
"I'm so sorry," he said breathlessly, eyes shut tight as he held himself up and forced himself not to kiss those perfect lips. "Please, please, baby...I'm sorry."
Your body ran cold one second and struck hot the next. Goosebumps decorating your body as pleasure began to overtake you again. You tried to stay mad, and you were doing a great job. But it's the look of desperation on his face; in his voice. He won't be complete until you forgive him. Even if he came right now, it wouldn't matter. He needs those three words in order to feel whole again.
"It won't happen again, I swear, just- please forgive me."
"Say it again," you huff, wrapping your legs around his waist and loosening your grip on his tie just a little. He fixed his glasses again to hide the stinging tear threatening to fall from his eye.
"Sorry," he whispered, eyes opening to meet yours again. Eyebrows twitching.
"Say you're sorry and you won't forget again."
"I'm sorry and I won't forget ever again."
Your second orgasm was starting to move like blood in a vein. Clouding your thoughts and hindering you from making him say it again.
"Can I cum?" He asked, pleading your name. "Please?"
"Not before me," you said between your teeth, pulling him closer by the lapels and kissing him. Sloppily.
It hit you harder than before. Both of you swallowing each other's cries and Clark took that opportunity to let himself go; emptying himself inside in the height of the moment. Half-moaning your name into your mouth and stilling his pelvis against the back of your thighs.
There was a few moments of quiet. The room only filled with soft pants and light squelching from the aftermath. He pulled away and let you take off his glasses to kiss the tear beads staining his lashes. Foreheads resting against each others as the ache started to settle into your muscles, but you didn't mind it. You got it all out.
"I'm sorry," he whispered one more time and kissed the inside of your palm with a soft sigh. You give a nod and look into his eyes with gentleness for the first time in days.
"I forgive you."