my man on willpower
summary: you're used to your co-worker doing everything and anything for you. until one day he decides to take advice from jimmy olsen and discovers willpower you didn't know he had.
pairing: female reader x clark kent
notes: clark is the leader of simp nation and you can't tell me otherwise. thanks again ms carpenter for the fic inspoooo, I've had this whole album on repeat nonstop. also this ended up being so much longer than I originally planned oops... enjoy!
likes, reblogs, comments are very much appreciated!
Enjoy my work? Tip me! 🤍
masterlist
Clark had three main rules when it came to his professional life.
Always remain objective.
Maintain friendly but strictly professional (and definitely not romantic!) working relationships with his colleagues.
Never take advice from Jimmy Olsen (again).
Although Clark liked to think he approached each of his stories with a level head and neutral position, he knew that the first rule had been broken the second he started interviewing himself as Superman.
The second rule had lasted for about a week until he'd ended up letting an extremely drunk Jimmy Olsen crash on his sofa after Friday night knock off drinks. Upon getting wind of Clark's inability to say no, each of Clark's colleagues - including Cat, Lois and even Perry once - had all had a drunken sleepover at Clark's.
Despite this, there'd been absolutely no romance involved, so he'd given himself a pat on the back for that one. He was comforted by the fact that maybe there was an argument that he'd only kinda broken rule two.
That was until you happened, you’d walked right into the Daily Planet on your first day and spun Clark’s world right off its axis and suddenly there was no argument about rule two.
The only thing that Clark could hang his hat on was that the sanctity of rule three had remained very much intact.
Rule three was mandated after Jimmy had convinced Clark that the only way to get a girl was to walk around drenched in Lynx Africa. After that Clark had sworn he would never ever take advice from Jimmy Olsen on any subject matter ever again.
“You’re doing it again.”
Clark jumped in his chair, his glasses knocked askew at the action. He swivelled around to find Jimmy peering down at him, his chin resting on his forearms that were leant against the divider of Clark’s work cubicle.
“What?”
“You’re doing the thing again.” Jimmy repeated.
"What thing?"
Jimmy smirked. “The thing where you count how many sips of coffee she's had so you can perfectly time your trip to the coffee machine and casually offer to get her a refill."
Clark dared a glance over to your desk. Brow furrowed, face pinched, a ballpoint pen clenched between your teeth. Breathtakingly beautiful as always, and most importantly, blissfully unaware of the two sets of eyes currently on you.
“If you weren’t you it might be considered creepy.”
“I’m just trying to be a friendly work colleague.” Clark defended.
“You don’t do that for me.” Jimmy shot back. “You also don’t stare at me longingly across the bullpen like I’ve hung the moon and stars.”
Clark’s face flushed. Subtly had never been in his wheelhouse, but he thought he’d at least being doing an ok job at hiding his infatuation.
Truth be told, he was in much deeper than Jimmy realised.
Jimmy didn’t know that he’d memorised your coffee and sandwich order within a week of you starting so that he could make sure you ate lunch when you handcuffed yourself to your desk and inevitably forgot to eat.
Jimmy didn’t know that he always kept an extra raincoat and umbrella under his desk just in case you forgot yours when the clouds of Metropolis inevitably split open and caught you by surprise.
Jimmy didn’t know that he’d started taking the bus of all things to get home because it meant he had an excuse to walk an extra ten minutes with you before your commute paths diverted, despite it adding an additional 40 minutes to his trip home.
Jimmy didn’t know that whenever he wasn’t thinking about saving the planet as Superman, he was entirely consumed by thoughts of you.
“You don’t bring in freshly baked goods for me every week.” To further emphasise his point, Clark held up a plate in front of him containing only the remnants of a chocolate chip cookie, which may or may not have been one of the best things he’s eaten in his entire life.
You’d recently picked up baking on the weekends, having told Clark that you needed something to distract you from your work. This meant the entire office was now spoilt with a new baked good every Friday, so much so that Cat had started complaining about her waistline.
Jimmy’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Whatever you say buddy.” He rapped his knuckles on the divider before sauntering back to his desk.
Clark slumped in his chair, which felt like a vortex - slowly pulling him down further into an all familiar spiral. He would have preferred Jimmy to stand there and argue with him. He knew Jimmy was probably trying to be nice, but that made it so much worse because that meant Jimmy pitied him, like he was a puppy abandoned on the side of the road waiting for someone to show him a shred of kindness.
Maybe it was finally time for him to pluck up the courage and ask you out. He'd been dancing around it since you'd first started at the Planet all those months ago. He could do it. He was Superman gosh darn it. He'd tackled world eating monsters, asking you out to dinner should be a cake walk.
"Any feedback on this week's batch for me?"
Your sweet voice cut through Clark's internal dialogue, acting like a shining light that guided him back to reality.
He looked up at you through his glasses. You were standing in the spot where Jimmy had been only moments ago. Your eyes darted to the plate still lying on his desk before you looked at him expectantly.
"Oh-" Clark started, straightening up in his seat as he adjusted his glasses. "They're um- yeah they're really good. Did you do something a little different with the batter this time?"
Your smile widened. "Yeah I tried using brown sugar, I think it adds a nice twist to it."
"That's what it is. The brown sugar." Clark nodded. "Really delicious."
"Very glad to hear it." You smiled down at him, tilting your head ever so slightly. "You coming tonight by the way?"
"Tonight...." Clark trailed off. You rested your chin on the palm of your hand as you shook your head and tisked.
"Don't tell me you forgot." You teased.
Clark felt his cheeks redden under your stare as he desperately racked his brain. He was hopeless. One look from you and all thoughts flew out of his head like they were fleeing an approaching storm.
"Uh-" Then it hit him. "Oh right. End of financial year party, how could I forget."
"Duh, and it's at good old Duke's. Going to be the party of the year."
Your eyes narrowed when you noticed his expression falter. "You're not thinking of ditching are you Kent?"
"Well-" Clark stammered as he stole a glance at his computer screen. "It's just there's this story that Perry really wants to get out and-"
"-No no no." You cut him off. "I'm up to my ears in this never ending corruption scandal and even I'm finding the time to come. Besides, you work your ass off and deserve some fun. If Perry has a problem with that he can go through me."
In Clark's eyes, you might as well be classified as an angel on earth. You seemed to have a permanent glow, radiating your perfect features. And when you got fired up, that glow burned even brighter.
You could see that he was still wavering. "Please." You pursed your lips. "It won't be the same without you there."
Clark couldn't believe it. You were pouting. Literally pouting those perfect lips and batting those long eyelashes at him. How was he supposed to say anything other than yes? You were his kryptonite, more so than actual kryptonite.
"Ok." He nodded. "I'll be there."
You shot him a radiant smile, enough to make the possibility of pissing Perry off worth it a thousand times over.
"Good." You pushed yourself off the cubicle divider, "hope you're ready for me to drink you under the table Kent."
A bemused smirk twitched up on his lips. "We'll see about that."
Who was he kidding, there was no way he was ever going to get up the courage to ask you out.
You smiled to yourself as you turned away and felt Clark's eyes following you all the way back to your desk.
You knew Clark had a crush on you. It was so obvious even the cleaning lady could probably tell. It made coming to work just that little bit more exciting. Whether it was wearing a new slightly too short for work skirt or brushing your hand seemingly innocently against his when you went to hand him a pen, knowing it would make the apples of his cheeks go red and the sentence he was uttering fall apart on his tongue.
If you were being honest, the feelings were definitely not one sided. How could it be when Clark was well, Clark. But that's all it was. A harmless, fun, not debilitating in the slightest, crush.
You finally let yourself glance up at the clock. Half an hour until drinks. The day had been dragging on excruciatingly slow, like time had fallen asleep at the wheel.
It seemed that everyone else felt the same way. The usual thriving hum of the newsroom had quietened to a dull roar, unenthusiastic keyboard taps and monosyllabic exchanges. Motivated by the optimistic idea that making a coffee might kill time, you forced yourself up and onto your feet.
You shoved a mug under the spout and pressed the button that grumbled the machine to life. You tapped your foot as you waited for the life giving elixir that was espresso to pour out. It seemed even the coffee machine had taken an early mark.
"You're going to give that boy a heart attack one day."
Cat appeared beside you, reaching up in her stiletos to grab a mug.
"You're going to have to be more specific."
Cat looked at you deadpan. “Really?”
You shrugged.
She pouted out her bottom lip and dramatically batted her eyelashes.
"It won't be the same without you."
You couldn’t hide the grin that spreads across your lips as you roll your eyes playfully.
“It’s true.”
“Uh huh.” Cat smirked as you moved over to let her use the machine. “You have that poor boy wrapped around your finger and you know it.”
You stole a glance over your shoulder to make sure Clark was no where to be seen before taking a sip of your coffee. Your nose involuntarily wrinkled as the burnt roast singed your nose hairs.
“So I may like to get him a little flustered… what’s the big deal?”
“Oh, I like nothing better than making a man squirm believe me.” Cat wriggled her eyebrows. “But there is the slight complication that he’s completely in love with you. And he's your coworker."
You felt a pang of guilt course through you. You couldn’t lie, half the fun was the way Clark doted on you. He was always noticing when you got your hair done or bought a new dress. He was the first to compliment you on your articles, but he'd also give you honest feedback if you asked for it. If you were ever off sick he'd call and check in on you, always offering to bring you soup or medicine.
He’d even trusted you with the biggest secret a person could harbour. His secret identity.
It was selfish, but you liked the fact that you could get the self esteem boost without the commitment. You flirted but never took it too far, never let him in through the solid walls you’d built up around yourself. Because if you kept him at arms length, there was no risk of him dismantling them.
Was that leading him on? You supposed it was. You winced at the thought of his adoring smile as he offered his shoes when you wore painfully high stilettos that you hadn’t broken in yet, or his umbrella when he didn't have a spare, leaving him standing out in the rain.
“Am I terrible person?”
“Oh god honey no.” Cat shook her head. “That’s not what I meant to imply I’m sorry.”
You frowned, deep in thought as you took a sip of your coffee. Your lips curled in disgust. Why did you think it would be better on the second sip?
“Forget I said anything ok?” She said hastily. “I more just meant… well...what are you going to do if he finally finds the courage to ask you out?”
You froze. You’d never thought about it, never even imagined the possibility that sweet, nervous Clark would actually take the next step.
Cat patted your arm sympathetically when she noticed the frazzled look on your face. “Aren’t you glad we’ve got drinks tonight?”
The Duke was a hive of activity. Corporate suits all suddenly brought to life by the promise of the weekend. It was packed wall to wall with patrons eagerly downing their drinks, excited to celebrate the work week coming to a close.
You were two white wines in and feeling much more relaxed, your corruption investigation now only a gentle hum in the forefront of your subconscious.
You were crammed into a booth, strategically sandwiching Clark between you and the wall. Your skirt had ridden up so the flesh of your thigh was pressed against Clark's under the table. The warmth of his body radiated into yours and the music pulsed through you as you fought to be heard over the din of the bar.
"You've finished your drink."
You looked over at Clark amusingly, "very observant of you Mr Kent."
His brow pinched, his lips pursed ever so slightly in response to your teasing. But the way his eyes brightened gave away his true emotions.
He leant in ever so slightly, his mouth angling towards your ear as he spoke. "Careful, I might have to rescind my offer to buy you your next round." You fought off a shiver as his voice reverberated up through your spine.
You tilted your chin up slightly so you could look up at him through your lashes. "Well luckily I would have rejected your offer anyway. You bought my last two drinks."
His brows jerked up, a casual smile hanging from his lips. "Here I was thinking you appreciated my generosity."
You laughed, leaning in closer just a fraction. "Of course I do, I just think it's time I repay that generosity by buying the next round."
With that you twisted around to sidle out of the booth. This was where the strategy came into play. You'd learnt from previous nights out that if you were against the wall, Clark would never let you past to buy yourself a drink.
You felt a large hand gently envelope your wrist. You turned around on the seat to see him frowning at you.
"You don't need to buy me a drink."
You giggled at the seriousness on his features. "I don't need to, but I want to." You tapped his forearm teasingly. "And I'n not taking no for an answer." Your tone was stern, but lacked any real bite.
He studied you and for a brief moment, the roar of the bar and the chatter of your friends faded into the background, making it feel like it was only the two of you in the room. Your skin encircled by his grip felt like it was on fire.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"Nope." You smacked your lips obnoxiously. He tried to maintain a serious expression but failed, his mouth twisted up into a smirk as he shook his head in defeat.
"Fine. But I'm coming with you."
You felt triumphant in your defeat. "Your company is welcome."
You slid out of the booth towards the bar, Clark hot on your heels. You couldn't control your giddy smile as you felt his hand gently brush over your lower back. It wasn't in a controlling way, it never was, but more of a quiet reassurance that he was there with you.
You loved when he got like this. Slightly more relaxed and touchy, even more clingy.
“What can I get you?” The bartender asked.
“Can I get two lychee martinis please.”
You felt Clark shift to stand beside you, his fingertips grazing across your back as he moved.
“Lychee martini’s huh?”
You looked up at him, your features twisting in bemusement. “You act like you love beer in front of Jimmy, but I’ve seen your eyes light up when us girls order our fruity cocktails.”
“Master of deduction all of a sudden are we?”
“No.” You looked up at him innocently. “I just know what you like.”
Even in the dingy lighting you could see the apples of his cheeks grow pink. “Really?” His voice faltered ever so slightly, revealing his nerves.
“What else do I like then?”
He was looking at you so intently, like he was waiting with bated breath to hear your response. This time it was you turn for your cheeks to flush. You suddenly became very aware that his hand was still on your lower back.
Shit. Maybe your liquid courage had made you overshoot this. You were wading on the edge of uncharted waters here, tiptoeing the line between harmless office flirting and something much more real.
What scared you the most was that a part of you wanted to dive in head first.
“There you are!”
Lois’ voice was like cold water over a hot flame, pulling the two of you apart and extinguishing any moment that might have been.
“Do you know what time it is?” Lois’ eyes were wide as she glared at you, it was like Clark didn’t even exist. You forgot how scary she was when she was mad.
“Uh…” You hastily check the time on your phone. “8:37?”
“Oh my god.” Lois muttered. “You don’t remember what I organised for you tonight, do you?”
You stared at her helplessly, desperately racking your brain for a hint of what she might be talking about.
“Oh.” It hit you like a train. “Oh fuck.”
“Oh fuck is right.”
“What is happening right now?” Clark asked, his eyes darting between the two of you.
“Lois organised a blind date for me and I completely forgot.” You inwardly cursed yourself as you fished your lipgloss out of your bag.
She was never going to forgive you for this.
“A date?”
“The restaurant is just on the next block over isn’t it?” Clark’s query got drowned out by you and Lois.
“Yes. He’s been sitting there for like 40 minutes you know.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” You hastily reapplied your gloss before throwing it back into your bag.
You finally turned your attention to Clark. “I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll be back.” You looked over sheepishly at Lois. “On the bright side, you now get a free lychee martini.”
You were so frazzled that you missed the clench of his jaw and the grimace set on his features. Unfortunately for Clark, Lois did not.
“Ok bye!” Not wanting to have to see Lois’ judgmental glare again, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the door.
Lois shook her head and mumbled something under her breath as she pulled out her phone. "I better go call him to make sure he doesn't leave before she gets there."
She looked up at Clark. "You ok?"
Clark flinched at the way her tone softened, it was as gentle as Lois got, like she was worried he might break. "Why wouldn't I be?" The question came out harsher than he'd intended.
Lois raised a brow but didn't say another word as she pressed her phone to her ear and moved to find a quieter pocket of the bar.
His shoulders slumped as he felt his good mood deflate like a popped balloon.
"Here you go." The bartender plonked the two lychee martinis in front of him. He stared down at them. It felt like they were mocking him, reminding him that the cloud nine he had been floating on had been snatched from him so quickly.
"Yo, did you order these? Wait let me guess, they're for Y/N." Just to dig the knife in further, the universe had sent him a tipsy Jimmy Olsen.
"She ordered them for us but she left."
Jimmy's brow knitted together. "Where'd she go?"
"On a blind date that Lois organised for her."
"Oh."
"Yeah." Clark didn't care to mellow the bitterness on his tongue as he picked up one of the glasses and took a deep sip.
"I'm sorry man."
There it was again - the pity. Jimmy Olsen didn't do pity, which could mean only one thing. Clark was well and truly screwed.
He glanced over at Jimmy to see him surveying the bar, his eyes glassy and his balance slightly off kilter. Jimmy never had any problems with women. In fact, he seemed to have problems with getting them to stay away from him.
He felt himself waver. Rule three was the only one of his rules still unbroken and that was for a reason. Was he really about to stoop this low? Destroy whatever dignity he had left?
The memory of the heat of your leg against his and your wine flushed cheeks invaded his thoughts, compromising his senses. He could never think logically when it came to you.
"Jimmy I-" He stopped himself. The words were thick and heavy on his tongue, like they were desperately trying to claw their way back down his throat. He was going to have to force them out.
"Yeah?"
"I need your help."
Jimmy looked like he'd hit the powerball in that moment, but was quick to throw on a mask of indifference as he leant casually against the bar.
"With?" Jimmy knew what. He just wanted to hear him say it.
Clark sighed in defeat, "with Y/N. I don't know what to do."
"Buddy, I have been waiting for you to ask me for Jimmy's help." His grin was almost impish as he clapped a hand onto Clark's shoulders. "And luckily for you, I have already thought of a solution."
"Which is?"
"Simple." Jimmy shrugged. "Just act like you're not interested." Before Clark could protest he lurched forward and snatched the second martini off the bar.
"Act like I'm not.... interested?" Clark watched as Jimmy downed half the liquid in one gulp.
"Yeah."
Clark blinked, "uh-" He cocked his head slightly. "What does that mean, exactly?"
"It means no more planned coffee refills or lunch deliveries or detoured commutes which yes-" He held up a hand to stop Clark from interrupting. "- I know all about, because I know everything about everyone. The point is, you can still be your nice Smallville self but strictly no boyfriend activities."
"But I'm not her boyfriend."
Jimmy nodding enthusiastically. "Exactly. She doesn't get to redeem boyfriend privileges on a friendship membership."
Clark just felt more and more confused the longer Jimmy kept talking. "Right, ok." He nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he tried to decipher Jimmy Olsen code.
"How will I know if it's working?"
"Trust me. You'll know."
"I just-"
Images of you invaded his thoughts again. Heat coursed through him at the thought of the look you gave him as he slid his hand down the small of your back or when he complimented your baking or writing.
"I don't know if I can."
"Clark." Jimmy clasped onto his shoulder dramatically. "You have the drive to break some of the biggest stories in Metropolis, you have the discipline to ask the right questions at the right time and the patience to wait out a witness or a source, the dedication to craft a story so it practically jumps off the page."
Clark was mesmerised, tipsy Jimmy was never usually this prophetic.
"Take a dose of self-restraint and harness the willpower I know you've got in you."
He nodded, totally absorbed by Jimmy's emphatic display. "Ok, I will."
"That's my boy." Jimmy clapped his back. "Oh and-" He hiccuped. "Best we don't mention this conversation to the others, Cat and Lois will run straight to her. Girl code and all that."
"Good point."
"Hey jackass! Did you drink my martini? Y/N promised it to me." Lois appeared between them, her arms crossed as she glared at the empty glass in Jimmy's hand.
Clark tuned out as they began to argue, the cogs of his mind spinning at how he was somehow going to muster up the strength to resist being at your beck and call for everything and anything. He was Superman, surely this couldn't be too hard - could it?
"Clark Kent on willpower.... got it." He muttered to himself.
You'd woken up on Saturday with a dull pounding in between your ears and sharp sleep in your eyes. Monday had rolled around way too soon after a weekend of bed rotting, but at least you were feeling back to your usual self.
You strolled into the chaos of the bullpen that always greeted you, coffee in hand and handbag jolting against your hip. Cat and Lois were already at their desks. Surprisingly, so was Clark.
"Morning."
"Morning sunshine." Lois greeted, not looking up from her computer.
"How was your hot date on Friday night?" Cat wiggled her eyebrows as she twisted around in her desk chair to face you.
"Not so hot." You answered, dumping your bag underneath your desk. "He was lovely but it was just..." You trailed off as you tried to find the right word.
"Boring?" Cat suggested as you sat down in your chair.
"He's Lois' friend, impossible for him to be boring."
Lois' mouth quirking up slightly was the only sign that she was indeed listening, and agreed.
"No it was just, I don't know, more of a friend vibe. I don't think he really felt the connection either."
"Oh no he was into you." Lois chimed in. You swirled around to look at her in disbelief. "Was never going to admit it when you ended the date with 'so.... friends?' though."
"Ouch." Cat laughed.
"Why'd you have to tell me that?" You whined.
"Just keeping it real."
You groaned as you turned around to face your computer, deciding that it was better to do some work then continue on this conversation any longer.
Cat tutted from her desk, "you should know better than that honey, girls that look like you don't get friendzoned."
You couldn't help but steal a glance over at Clark. He was staring intently at his computer screen, barely even blinking, like he was trying too hard to act like he wasn't hanging on to every single word.
You didn't notice it at first, the subtle shift in the Daily Planet continuum.
You were so caught up in your work that you didn't clock that it had gotten to mid morning and your coffee cup hadn't been refilled, or that after lunch a sandwich hadn't magically appeared on your desk.
In the mid-afternoon you finally got a chance to talk to Clark when the pair of you reached the coffee machine at the same time. The two of you were so busy it wasn't unusual that you'd barely speak some days.
"I didn't see you at Duke's when I came back." You opened the cupboard and reached up on your tippy toes to grab one of your favourite mugs.
"Oh yeah I decided to head home, needed to do some things early on Saturday morning." Clark reached up and grabbed the mug for you with ease.
You went to take the mug from him, but he placed it on the counter before you could.
"Thanks." You smiled. "Well you made the right decision, I should have gone home about four hours before I actually did."
Clark let out a short, polite laugh before picking up his mug and heading back to his desk. You didn't think anything of it, sometimes when Clark got deep into a story he ventured into nonverbal territory.
At the end of the day you habitually looked over at Clark's desk to see if he was ready to leave so the two of you could walk part of your commute together, but he was already gone.
By Wednesday, you were starting to notice something was off.
You realised that Clark had started taking a different route to the kitchen, bypassing your desk entirely. It was the shorter route, so you initially figured that maybe he was trying to be more time efficient. But on the flip side this was the same man who was consistently late and would disappear for hours at a time in the middle of the day to go superhero-ing.
When your stomach growled you looked up from your article to see him sitting and eating lunch at his desk. It was from the same place he always went to, except this time he hadn't brought back a sandwich for you.
You also realised that Clark hadn't called you on the weekend to check on your hangover, or sent you any perfectly curated instagram reels.
At the end of the day you made sure to pack up at the same time as him, so you could casually wonder over to his desk and ask, "you ready to head off?"
"Oh you shouldn’t wait for me, I've started taking a different route home. Saves me like forty minutes each way."
“Ok no problem, see you tomorrow then."
You'd tried to ignore the wave of disappointment that washed over you as you made your way towards the elevator. You really enjoyed your walks home together, catching up on everything you hadn't had time to say during the day. Talking about movies or books or office gossip. Now you just had your airpods as company.
And now that you'd noticed it, you couldn't stop noticing it.
It was like a loose thread, and now that you'd tugged on it the whole thing had begun to unravel - splitting the rift wide open.
At first you thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things.
He was still pleasant and kind, of course. But there was something missing. It was like someone had filled your connection up with cement and sealed it over. There was no depth anymore, every smile and conversation was clipped and surface level. No more inside jokes or shared glances. No more hovering at your desk for the off chance you might want to have a break and have a chat.
When you brought in a freshly baked batch of cookies on Friday you made sure to make his favourite, but all you got was a polite thank you and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
He also never handed you anything anymore. He just put it down on whatever flat surface was between you two, almost as if he was ensured that there was no chance of the two of you even slightly brushing fingers.
When you took a few days off sick all you got was a polite, some might even describe as courteous, text message checking in to make sure you were ok. No random drop by to bring you soup or daily check ins to see if you needed anything from the pharmacy.
He also hadn't touched you since the night at Duke's when his hand had brushed along your lower back. And now it was all you could think about.
You felt like waving at him and saying 'very funny Clark! The joke can be over now!'. But what could you actually say without sounding insane?
'Hi Clark, I noticed you've stopped brushing your fingers against mine when you hand me a pencil or conveniently walking past my desk when I need a refill, everything ok?'. You might as well just say ‘so, why aren't you obsessed with me anymore?'
But saying all of those things would mean that you'd have to first admit that there was something between the two of you, and then secondly that you missed whatever had been between the two of you.
You sighed and flopped down on your couch. It was a Friday and you had no plans except for a date with a glass or two of wine and chinese takeout. That was when an idea popped into your head. Maybe he was just so busy that he'd forgotten you had existed. And if that was the case, you could very much remind him.
You pulled out your phone and opened up your contacts. Clark's name stared back at you, illuminating your face in the dark of your apartment. This was such a stupid idea, but the wine had already gone to your head and before you could overthink further your thumb had pressed onto his number.
You chewed the inside of your cheek as you pressed your phone to your ear. The ringing dragged on for so long that you were convinced he wasn't going to pick up. You had just moved your phone away from your ear to hang up when the ringing abruptly stopped.
"Hello?"
"Clark, hey - it's me." You internally cringed. Of course he knew it was you idiot. "Is there any chance you're still at the office?"
"Unfortunately for me, yes."
"Yeah I kind of figured you might be... hence why you were the first call." That loosened a short chuckle from him.
"The reason I was calling is because I accidentally left some reports on my desk that I was hoping to look through tonight... any chance you could drop them over? I appreciate it's a really big ask so totally fine if not."
You could practically hear him having a struggle with himself about what to say through the silence on the phone.
"Sure, I'll head over now."
You beamed, "thanks Clark. I'll pay for your taxi over."
His breathless chuckle crackled through the speaker, "you really don't have to do that. I'll be there soon."
"Ok see you soon."
The second the call disconnected you sprung up and practically sprinted into your bedroom. You rifled through your dresser until you located your cutest pyjama set in the bottom draw. A cream cami set hemmed in pink frills with matching pink hearts dotted all over it.
The second it was on you hurried into the bathroom. You ran your brush through your hair and dabbed on some blush and clear lip gloss. Just enough so you could say 'why yes Clark, I do just naturally look this rosy cheeked and glowy when I'm laying around at home.'
The doorbell ringing seemed to snap you out of your psychosis. What on earth were you thinking? This whole plan was insane. But it was too late now, he was here and you were dressed like this. Might as well make the most of it.
You ran your fingers through your hair and puckered your lips one last time before opening the door.
"Hey I wasn't sure which ones you wanted so I just brought-" Clark's eyes practically bulged out of his head when he looked up from the stack of papers in his hands.
"I- He swallowed as his eyes involuntarily darted down over your figure. "Golly sorry I just- it's been a long day."
You shot him your signature smile as you leant against the door, jutting your hip out. It was working.
"That's ok, thank you so much for bringing them over."
"Don't mention it." He muttered, his cheeks growing red as he hastily shoved the papers into your awaiting arms.
"You want to come in? I feel like I’ve barely seen you recently.”
"Sorry I can't I uh - I've got this urgent deadline." He jerked his thumb haphazardly over his shoulder as he took a step back from the doorway.
You frowned. This was not part of the plan. You thought you had him hook, line and sinker.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah it's um... urgent." You watched as he began to back away from the door towards the elevator. The chances of you reeling him in were rapidly dwindling.
“I’ve got leftover cookies and wine. My way of saying thanks.”
“No sorry it’s just- yeah I’ve really got to go.”
"Ok well, I'll see you Monday." You tried to hide the disappointment in your tone. "Thanks again."
"Anytime. Have a good weekend."
Clark waited until he was outside before he pressed his back against the brick of your apartment building and let out a shaky breath. He pressed his phone to his ear and glanced down at his feet.
"Gosh darn it." He cursed, bringing his satchel over the front of his groin to hide his growing excitement.
"Buddy, what's up?" He ground his teeth at the jovial tone of his best friend.
"Jimmy, I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this."
"Woah wait, what happened?"
"I'm going crazy." He snapped. "She just rang me asking if I could bring some documents over to her place that she forgot and of course I couldn't say no and when I answered the door she was standing there in these-" He pressed his bag firmer into his groin as memories of your pyjamas taunted him.
"-these lacy pyjamas and I nearly combusted right then and there." He hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else was in earshot.
"Lacy pyjamas?" Jimmy let out a low whistle. "Geez I didn't think she had it in her."
"Jimmy." Clark bit out.
"Sorry, but I don't know why you're freaking out. This is great."
"How is this great?"
"Because... it means our strategy is working. Think about it. Have you ever known her to just 'forget' something important that is work related?"
The receiver crackled slightly as Clark processed Jimmy's words. He had a point, you forgot a lot of things, but never anything in relation to your work. You were a gun.
"The point is she doesn't. So, she either intentionally forgot them or didn't actually need them."
"But why would she do that?"
Jimmy sighed. "Honestly Clark, your naivety is endearing but also so concerning at the same time. She wanted you to come over and see her in those pyjamas."
Clark glanced up at your apartment building, "you really think so?"
"I know so. This is her trying to remind you that she exists. To tempt you."
"Oh golly... I definitely know she exists." You were literally all he thought about.
"Yes but she doesn't know that. Trust me, it's working. Just keep doing what you're doing."
Clark sighed, "How long do I have to keep doing this?"
"Until she cracks."
"And when will I know when she cracks?"
"Oh, you'll know."
"I don't understand, he used to be literally obsessed with me."
"I'm pretty sure he still is."
You glumly look up from your coffee at Lois. "Something's changed. This is a version of Clark I don't even recognise." You pause as you lift your coffee to your lips. "I want a refund." You muttered into the liquid.
"Maybe he's playing hard to get." Cat suggested.
"This is Smallville we're talking about. Playing hard to get would be physically impossible for him." Lois remarked.
"True. Maybe he's just... going through some stuff."
You sighed and slumped into your chair. "I don't know what I did, but he hates me."
"He definitely does not hate you."
"How do you know?"
"Because, I see the way he looks at you from his desk when you're not looking." Lois raised her brows. "Trust me. It's sickening."
"Then what do I do?"
"Well." Lois leant forward over the table. "Firstly I think we need an answer as to why this is bothering you so much."
You crossed your arms over your chest. "Because Clark is my friend and he's acting weird."
Lois' eyes narrowed, her face sharpening into that interrogative look she often got when she was about to blow a story wide open.
"You're a terrible liar."
"Let's just cut to the chase. We both know you like him." Cat interjected.
Your eyes darted between them nervously. "Why do I feel like this is an interrogation?"
"It's not an interrogation if we already have the answers." Lois said smugly.
"Ok let's just say hypothetically I did have some...feelings for him." You began. "It takes me back to my initial question which is, what do I do?"
Thankfully they were both kind enough not to shout 'I told you so' in your face, but you knew they both desperately wanted to.
"Well the logical answer is to tell him how you feel but obviously you don't want to do that because that would mean you would have to admit your feelings and lower those walls you've built around yourself."
You glowered at Lois. "I don't remember asking to be psychoanalysed."
"Yeah ease up Sherlock." Cat rolled her eyes. "Although she has a point, I agree it's a big jump to outright say anything. I think he just needs a nudge, a reminder that you exist."
You winced. "What if I've already tried that?"
There was a pause as Cat and Lois blinked insync before leaning forward. "What do you mean?"
Your cheeks flushed as you recounted the pyjama incident. Even Lois' infamous poker face faltered at points. Silence enveloped the three of you once you finished as the girls digested what they'd just heard.
"Shit. This is worse than I thought." Lois finally spoke.
"See why I'm stressing! My slutty pyjamas aren't even tempting him."
"You're down bad." Cat tutted and shook her head.
You shot her a glare, "not helpful."
"There's no need to stress yet. Clark's a gentlemen and as innocent as a lamb, he might have not picked up on anything or was too flustered to react."
Cat nodded in agreement. "Clark is hopeless. It needs to be something that gives you guys a chance to spend more time together, like working on an article or going to a work event."
"There is the gala that's coming up, the one Perry invited us all too." You suggested meekly.
"Yes that's perfect."
Lois nodded at Cat's answer in agreement.
"Ask him to go with you, you don't need to suggest it as a date or anything, but even Clark's not that clueless. And if for some reason it went pear-shaped, you can just say something like 'oh I meant like a group of us all go together'."
You looked at them intently, "you two are geniuses."
"Tell us something we don't know." Cat winked.
"Oh and be confident. One smile and bat of your lashes and he's putty in your hands. You're the prize, remember that." You smiled as a rare glimpse of affection crossed Lois' face.
She was right, you had him wrapped around your finger. You could dissolve his willpower in a matter of seconds if you wanted to.
"I can do that."
You finally got your opportunity the day before the gala when you wandered into the break room and realised it was just you and Clark in the tiny space.
"Hey." You smiled.
"Hey." He muffled out as he awkwardly tried to shove the mouthful of egg salad sandwich that was currently glued between his teeth down his throat.
You tried to control your nerves as you confidently crossed the room.
"I can't believe Perry's dragging us to one of those galas again." You commented casually as you grabbed your lunch out of the fridge.
"Yeah I know. Hopefully the food's better than the last one." He'd just confirmed that he was planning to go. Off to a good start.
"Surprised we didn't get food poisoning." You remarked as you shut the fridge door with your heel.
Clark chuckled in agreement before taking another bite of his sandwich.
"So I was thinking..." You trailed off as you perched on the table, swivelling your torso around so you were looking down at him. You swallowed as you caught a whiff of his cologne. This was the closest you two had been in weeks.
"You and I should go to this thing together, you know as a preventative measure to try and mitigate the inevitable boring conversations." You made sure your face was the perfect image of calm, with the addition of a soft smile and a flutter of your lashes.
Clark spluttered at your words causing his food to get caught in his throat and for a second you thought he might actually be at risk of choking.
"Clark are you ok-" You leant forward to touch his arm gently.
He jerked his arm back so quickly you were surprised he didn't get whiplash. The movement was so violent you felt the table shake underneath you.
"Sorry I-I can't."
You recoiled like you'd just been slapped. You felt nausea pool in your stomach. Could he really not bear for you to even touch him? It was like you were a leper and even your presence repulsed him.
You forced a tight lipped smile onto your face. "Got better plans huh?" You were aiming for a teasing tone, but instead it just came out pained. You prayed that he didn't catch the way your voice wavered at the end.
"I um- I'm already bringing someone."
Suddenly it all made sense. The complete shift in attitude, the lack of interest. He'd met someone else. You supposed you couldn't really be mad, you'd gone on a date yourself not that long ago. And yet, you were. You felt the rage bubble in the pit of your stomach, seeping into your bones.
You both had still been friends. Good friends in fact. Or at least you'd thought so. Was that all it ever was? He was attracted to you and then when he found someone better, you were just discarded? That didn't seem like the Clark you knew, your Clark.
Then again, you supposed he wasn't ever really yours.
"I see." You nodded. "I'm looking forward to meeting them." You shot him a smile that you knew didn't reach your eyes.
You pushed yourself off the desk and hastily made your way to the door, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
Your hand hovered over the handle, your heart rooting your feet into the ground. Something inexplicable forced you to twist around to face him. He was still staring at you.
"You know... I actually hate baking."
You laughed bitterly as you thought about the hours you'd spent cursing the kitchen as you measured the ingredients and rolled dough.
"But you mentioned once that you hadn't had a good cookie since you'd left Smallville and I thought what the hell, I can give it a go. And then after your reaction.... I just kept going."
You forced your voice to stay steady as you kept your eyes locked with his.
"Now that I think about it, maybe it was my way of giving you a piece of me without realising it."
The silence between you was taught but Clark's jaw was slack as he tried to make sense of what you'd just unleashed.
"I'll see you tomorrow night."
Without another word you shut the door, giving you the much needed separation. You exhaled a shaky breath as you forced yourself to keep walking back to your desk.
You hadn't realised how much you would miss him. Yes, you still technically saw him everyday, but having him be present and having his presence were two very different things.
He'd always been so reliant. He was like a steady current, always keeping you afloat even when you felt your confidence waiver.
Now you felt like you were a ship lost at sea, floating aimlessly in the still water, your walls well and truly under siege.
The gala was exactly as Clark had predicted. Packed with boring donors who all walked around with stiff upper lips and perfect postures. The waiters were carrying around plates of food that looked like they'd be more suited to be served on Krypton than Earth.
But according to his heart rate, this was the equivalent of taking on an intergalactic threat. He fiddled with his bowtie as he scanned the room. He still hadn't spotted the reason for his rapid pulse.
He'd barely slept last night. Your conversation in the break room playing on a loop as he picked through it, sifting through the inflection of your speech and the micro expressions on your face.
The second he'd said he was bringing someone else, he wanted to take it back, to collect those words up and stuff them back down his throat. He had no idea why he said it. But the look on your face when you’d tried to make a joke of the situation had made him so close to blurting out everything that he'd just said the first excuse that had popped into his head.
He'd wanted to run after you, to drop onto his hands and knees and explain that he'd meant none of it. But when you'd turned and looked back at him, he froze with his mouth open, like a pathetic clown at one of those fair stalls.
He noted the beautiful chandelier and the antique paintings and décor peppered throughout the ballroom. You would love it. He wanted to point it out to you, to tell you how the shimmering chandelier reminded him of you. How it was nearly as effervescent as you - but not quite, because that would be impossible.
"There you are Kent!" Cat and Lois approached him. No sign of you.
"Where's Y/N?"
Clark frowned, "she's not with you?"
Lois and Cat exchanged a look. "She didn't ask you to come with her?"
Clark's cheeks reddened. "How do you know about that?"
Another look was exchanged. Clark got the feeling they were having a conversation right in front of him.
"So you said...no?" Cat folded her arms in front of her chest.
"I-" Clark glanced between them, swallowing nervously at their piercing gazes.
"I told her I was bringing someone."
"And did you? 'cause I sure as hell don't see anyone."
"No." He admitted quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Explain. Now."
Clark felt himself beginning to unravel. "Well Jimmy told me that I should-"
"Well well well, don't we all scrub up nicely!"
The three of them turned to see Jimmy sauntering towards them. He froze when he saw Cat and Lois' murderous expressions. He gulped at the sight of Clark's terrified one.
"You know I kind of feel like I'm interrupting something so I'm just going to-"
"No." Lois' voice cut through the tension like a blade. "I really think you should stay."
"Clark was just about to tell us why he told Y/N he couldn't come with her tonight and that he was bringing a date."
"Wait what-" Jimmy balked.
Lois held up a hand, "continue Clark."
Clark's eyes darted to Jimmy nervously before looking back at her. "Well Jimmy suggested that I act less interested, to stop acting like I was her 'boyfriend'."
"You what-"
"It was just so she could realise how much she would miss him fawning over her." Jimmy protested. "I didn't tell him to turn her down if she asked him out."
Clark winced under Jimmy's glare. "I just panicked, but after everything she said in the break room yesterday, I've decided that I'm going to tell her how I really feel."
There was a pause as everyone processed his words.
"Clark." Lois said slowly, her voice eerily calm. "What did she tell you yesterday in the break room?"
"She told me that she actually didn't really like baking but saw how much I liked it and that... that it was a way for her to give me a piece of her without realising it."
They all looked at him in disbelief. Clark thought Lois might actually punch him.
"Jesus Clark." Jimmy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Remember when I told you that you'd know when she cracked?"
There was a pause as Clark swallowed nervously, "that was her cracking, wasn't it?"
"Fuck." Cat breathed out, catching sight of something behind Clark's shoulder.
Clark swivelled around and felt his heart nearly burst out his chest at the sight of you. The polished floors reflected the shimmer of your floor length pale yellow gown. You turned to grab a champagne flute from a passing waiter, revealing the low cut of the dress at the back.
You met his eyes from across the room. An unreadable look crossed your features as you took a sip of your drink. Clark blinked and you were gone, lost in the sea of attendees.
Clark turned back to see Lois' eyes fixed on him. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man. He gulped.
"Fix it. Or else the Planet's headline tomorrow is going to read 'Journalist brutally murdered by co-worker over his inexplicable stupidity'."
You had no idea why you were here. It must be some sick and twisted new form of self-flagellation that your brain had concocted. The second you saw Clark standing there in his tux you had felt what little resolve you'd patched up over the last twenty four hours crumble. The only saving grace was that you were yet to see his date. That might just be your last straw.
You should have brought someone as revenge. You’d thought about it. But you didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore.
You watched a server walk past you, your face scrunching in disgust. If you were speaking to Clark, you would have asked him if he'd flown to Krypton to supply the food at this thing.
Within ten minutes of walking in the door, you'd been cornered by an older man who was claiming to be incredibly interested in your line of work. You watched as his eyes moved down your body. More like the line of your underwear.
"I don't understand how someone like you could be here alone." He purred. "You have to let me take you out onto the dance floor. I won't take no for an answer."
And there it was.
"I'm not-"
"She's not alone."
You didn't need to turn to know who it was. The way his voice crept up your spine was enough to give away his identity. You stole a glance up at him. He towered over you, even in your heels. The heat that radiated from him was enough to make you weak in your knees.
You were close enough that you could see the tick of his jaw as he clenched it. His blue eyes piercing holes through the man in front of you.
"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise." He stammered, cowering under Clark's glare.
He glanced at you and muttered, "Have a lovely evening."
"You too." You answered, shooting him a sarcastic smile as he scurried away.
"Creep." You grumbled under your breath.
His eyes were already fixed on you when you looked up at him this time, like he was trying to mesmerise every detail of your face.
"You look beautiful."
You tried to unscramble your brain as you studied him. The proximity that you had been craving for weeks was clouding your judgement, sending your senses completely off kilter.
"Would you... like to dance?"
The yes that you wanted to say was desperately trying to leap off your tongue. He studied your face like it was a work of art. You could sense his hand hovering over your skin, threatening to touch you. The yes was on the precipice now.
"I'm bringing someone else."
His words echoed in your brain, shoving you back into reality. He'd turned you down and now he had the audacity to do all of this without an explanation?
You took a step back, his outstretched hand falling limp at his side immediately. Your face hardened as you stared at him.
"Actually, I think I need some air."
His lips began to form your name but you turned and made a beeline for an exit before they could reach your ears. The satin fabric of your dress clung to you as you weaved through the crowd, which all suddenly felt much too suffocating.
You went through the closest door you could find, spilling out onto a small balcony overlooking the city. The room that the gala was being held in was so soundproof it was easy to forget that you were right in the heart of it. The combination of the harsh sounds of a humming Metropolis below you and the crisp night air hitting your exposed skin was a shock to the system.
You gripped onto the rail, exhaling a shaky breath as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.
You squeezed your eyes shut at the sound of the door opening and closing behind you. You didn't need to turn around to know who stood behind you. You could feel his presence, sense the way that the energy slightly shifted. Like time stilled around you just for a brief moment.
The sound of your name coming from his lips made you ache. He said it softly, just loud enough that the wind could carry it to you.
"Please just let me-"
"Enough mind games Clark." It was supposed to come out as a demand, but it came out more like a plea as you turned to him.
His glasses were in his suit pocket, leaving his face raw and exposed. The face that you knew only a select few got to see. The one that carried the weight of the world on its shoulders. The one that had thrown your life into disarray.
"For weeks you wouldn't touch me with a twenty foot pole and now you're looking at me like you never want to let me go." Your voice was painfully wobbly as your grip tightened on the rail, like it might somehow steady you in the storm of emotions.
"I know.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. “I've really screwed up. But I can explain." His expression was desperate, his eyes shining with a mixture of emotions.
He took your silence as permission to continue. "I didn't have a date for tonight. I made it up because I was so close to telling you the truth and it was the first excuse that popped into my head."
"The truth?"
He inhaled a deep breath. "After the night at Duke's when you left to go to your date I kind of... spiralled. I broke one of my golden work rules and I..." He looked like he was physically in pain from what he was about to admit, "I took advice from Jimmy."
You blinked in surprise. "You took advice from Jimmy?"
He nodded.
"Clark." You spoke slowly as you tried to process what he’d just said. "what advice did Jimmy give you?"
"He told me to pretend I wasn't interested in you and to stop doting on you, something about 'no boyfriend privileges on a friendship membership'."
Despite everything, you let out a snort of laughter. "Oh my god."
"I know, it's stupid. I'm a jerk. I'm so sorry."
You shook your head in disbelief, "no, you're not. I'm the jerk. Or I guess- maybe we’ve both been jerks.”
You let out a defeated sigh at his confused expression. If he was going to be honest with you, it was about time you returned the favour.
"I knew you had a crush on me. I knew for a while. And I enjoyed it. I liked the attention but not having to commit because that meant-" You felt a breath catch in your throat. "-that meant it wasn't ever going to be anything real. That I couldn't get hurt."
He took a step towards you as you felt your voice waiver again. "But then all of a sudden you weren't there anymore and I- I couldn't handle it. And it wasn't about the five refills of coffee a day I used to get without leaving my desk-"
His lips twitched up in amusement at that.
"It was about the fact that I missed our walks home together, the calls on the weekend after a new episode of our show came out, the way our hands would brush when you'd hand me a coffee cup. I just missed you."
You couldn't believe the words that were flowing out of your mouth, but now you'd started spilling your confessions to him, you couldn't stop, like you could feel yourself getting lighter as you unburdened yourself.
"I've missed you too. So much.” He breathed out. "It's why I was acting so strange. I couldn't risk you touching me...because I knew that if I felt your touch I wouldn't be able to hold myself back.” He let out a humourless chuckle.
“Heck, I couldn’t even bear to even really look at you properly. This has been- this has been torture for me. I’ve been on the edge the entire time.”
Your breathing hitched as he took another step towards you. "And don't get me started on that night I dropped those documents to your place."
You swore his eyes darkened for a split second as he looked down at you. You felt the energy crackle and pop as it shifted between you. You knew then. You weren’t on the edge of uncharted waters anymore, you were up to your neck in it.
"I thought I had you dead to rights there." Your tone was light, the side of your mouth quirking up.
He caught his lip between his teeth as he moved forward again. You were almost chest to chest now, so close that you could feel his body heat desperately reaching out to engulf you.
"Believe me, I had to use every last bit of my self control."
"Luckily for you, they're still in my drawer."
His face bloomed red at that. "Don't tease me."
"Who said I was teasing?"
You let out an audible gasp as he finally closed the gap between you, snaking his broad arms around your waist to bring you flush against his chest. You felt warmth bloom across your lower back as his fingers gently brushed your exposed flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
He let out a shaky breath as he admired you. "Now that I've touched you again, I don't want to ever stop."
"Then don't." You murmured. Pleaded.
His breath fanned your face as he leant up to cradle your jaw. He tilted your head up so he could press his forehead against yours.
"I love you." He said it reverently, like he was swearing an oath at the alter of you. You squeezed your eyes shut as you processed his words. "I have since the first day you walked into the Planet. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner.” When you opened them again, his eyes were glassy. You swore you could see the ocean in them.
"I love you too. I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it to myself, even when I've known it deep down this whole time."
Then his lips were finally on yours. If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly your knees might have buckled. The kiss was much like him, warm and steady, safe.
You knew it then. Your walls were well and truly down.
But you'd found your safe harbour.
The two of you only broke apart when you needed air, your chests ragged, Clark's bowtie askew.
"What?" Clark asked when he noticed the amused smile playing on your lips as you curled your fingers into the hairs on the nape of his neck.
"Nothing, I just can't believe Jimmy's advice actually worked."
"Me neither." He breathlessly chuckled.
"He can never find out." You both said simultaneously. You both broke into a fit of giggles, your noses bumping against each other as you clung to one another.
"Do you think we should go back inside? The others might be wondering where we are." You murmured against his lips.
Clark shook his head.
“I’ve used up all my willpower when it comes to you, I’m not spending another minute in there when I can have you out here all to myself."
“Good.” You grinned. "Because I’ve realised that I like my Clark Kent with absolutely zero willpower."
As always always always, feedback is always appreciated because I thrive off praise. Please give it back here and consider tipping me! 🤍
