#the woman in white fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

junkpuppet225 · 1 month ago

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warning: smut, p in v, oral female receiving, cursing - all the good stuff. 18+ Minors DNI Readers younger by half. Daddy issues not mentioned. Richie’s a ghost simp. Doesn’t stop Richie from sending out the goons. Nobody fucks with pookie.

summary: You and Richie have been working together for a while now and you knew better than to hookup with him but he’s just to god damn irresistible. Hooking up and arguing are what you both specialize in until something changes.

::::::

It wasn’t Sydney who held a knife to Richie’s chest one particularly shitty day at The Original Beef of Chicagoland - it was you but you’d never be so cruel as to bring up his daughters name in an argument so when he makes his usual smart ass remark (about who only knows what) and you turn your knife on him he doesn’t call you a bitch. He calls you sweetheart and that’s much worst. Even if you secretly love the pet name it sets you off when he says it because it isn’t just for you. He calls every pretty girl that crosses his path sweetheart and the thought narrows your eyes further.

“Oh—-, you gonna stab me sweetheart?”

“Fuck you Richie.”

“You wish.”

“Such a smart ass.” You snap and slam the knife down on the counter so you don’t accidentally (or purposely) slit his throat. That night after everyone’s gone home and he’s fucking you senseless against the biting brick of the wall in the alley behind the restaurant you make sure to pull his hair - hard but like typical Richie it just turns him on more as he moans against your throat.

“You wanna hurt me sweetheart?” His words are soft against your skin - sending a shiver of pleasure to your core as he lifts your hips to sink into you deeper and a gasp escapes you. You loosen your fingers from the back of his hair gripping his shoulders as he thrust into you deeply, warm lips brushing against your throat. “‘Cause you’re makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good.”

Richie buries his face in the bend of your shoulder with a groan, feeling you tighten around him as a deep moan rattles in his chest and you cling to him. “That’s it sweetheart, f-fuck—-, that’s it… feels so fucking good baby.”

Your fingers return to his hair tugging gently this time as he lifts his ocean eyes to yours. The emotions swirling in his beautiful gaze don’t belong here - you are not trying to fall in love with some middle aged man in the back alley of a sloppy ass sandwich shop but you can’t bring yourself to hurt him again, keeping your grip in his hair light as he fucks up into you desperately - coming a moment later with a whimper against your lips.

Then he helps you down to your feet, even helps you adjust your clothes and runs a hand into your soft hair as he studies you before he’s pulling a cigarette out and lighting it quickly. You stand beside him sharing the smoke for another minute and then without even a see you tomorrow you’re headed to The L alone.

::::::

“Okay there we go. Thats better. That’s a good picture.”

Monday morning Tina’s studying a photo on Richie’s phone that’s apparently of the woman he took out on a date over the weekend and you can’t help but roll your eyes as you slip behind him grasping his hip as he steps back into you accidentally.

“Behind.”

“Shit—-, sorry sweetheart.” Richie mutters - all but ignoring you as Tina assures him his date has nice eyes and you storm through the kitchen forcing yourself not to listen to his reply as you disappear out front to restock the napkins. Why do you care if Richie goes on a date? You don’t want to date him. You don’t even want to talk to him you silently assure yourself slamming the napkin holder a little too hard as the corner catches your finger and you growl in frustration.

In the kitchen Richie is still going on and on about his date as Sydney and Tina try to work around him each becoming more frustrated by the minute. “No sense of humor, ya know? Even worse she’s got no sense of Chicago history.” Richie mutters glancing to the front as he spots you standing with your finger in your mouth - eyebrows pulling together as you study the small bruise forming on its tip. The way the bright morning sun shines through the front glass cast you in warm light - illuminating your gaze as it lifts to him slowly.

“She does have beautiful eyes though.” He assures himself - no longer thinking about the drab woman who sat across from him Saturday night with no personality wearing too much perfume.

“Five minutes till open chefs.” Carmy mutters in passing as you return to the kitchen doing your best not to look at Richie. You don’t have it in you to argue with him because if he brings up his date you’ll lose what little grasp you have on your feelings for him and possibly stab him or burst into tears or both at the thought of him spending time with another woman. “You good, chef?” Carmy asks quietly, giving you his full attention as you nod - turning your face to his as a smile pulls at your lips.

Carmy is cute and sweet, even chill - for the most part. You wouldn’t have to argue with him everyday just to get something from him. Plus he’s way closer to you in age - so why does the loud mouthed grandpa standing a few feet away make you feel weak every time he glances your way? Fuck.

“Yes chef. I’m good.”

“Good.”

A soft laugh escapes you at Carmy’s awkwardness then you glance up to Richie who’s glaring at you now. You let your eyes sweep over his handsome face then down his chest to focus on his strong hands - both clenched tightly at his sides as the plastic in his iPhone pops with the intense pressure.

“Can you prep giardiniera today?”

“Yes, chef.” You say to Carmy, the words barely slipping from your parted lips as he thanks you with a kind smile and moves on through the kitchen. Ten minutes later everyone’s focused on their tasks except for Richie - who is never really focused on anything it seems and he’s standing behind you bent slightly so his words are yours and yours alone. “What’s up with all this yes chef - right away chef bullshit?” He whispers against your ear as you continue to slice green peppers - focusing on your hands to keep from losing a finger. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh you know exactly what I’m talking about sweetheart. What kinda shit are you trying to pull? You think he can fuck you better than me?”

You stop chopping and turn your eyes up to his quickly. You knew better than to hook up with a coworker - especially a fucking man-child like Richie Jerimovich but something about him gets under your skin in the best possible way and as much as you fucking hate his ass you can’t seem to get enough.

“You must think I’m a real whore, huh?” You whisper and watch his own eyes go wide. He actually looks hurt then a flash of regret fills his troubled gaze as you return to the task your BOSS assigned to you.

“Hey? I don’t think that.” Richie says quickly - his eyes burning into your back as you try to ignore him, wiping at your left eye with the back of your hand to remove the tear that betrays you. “Y/N. I don’t fucking think that.”

“Yeah. Okay.” You mutter keeping your back to him. You don’t want to fight today. No one here wants to listen to you to argue like you’ve been married for forty years. You want to be good at this job - for Mikey. He saw potential in you when no one else did. Richie said you were to young to work here and Carmy was a thousand miles away in New York. You want Carmy to look at you with respect like he did this morning - you want someone to fucking look at you like you’re more than a piece of ass to be used to their liking.

Arguing with Richie every day isn’t going to make that happen. “Yo, cousin? Two minutes till open. You good?”

Richie doesn’t acknowledge Carmy and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you while you continue to chop vegetables like it’s your life’s mission. Thankfully he doesn’t say anything else - storming away a minute later when he realizes you aren’t going to engage in any of his bullshit today. You keep your head down as Carmy passes you to go into Mikey’s office.

You guess it’s his office now.

::::::

Richie doesn’t speak to you for the rest of your shift and you actually manage to get everything you need done before midnight, gathering your things from your shared locker as you head to the back entrance to leave. Much to your dismay Richie is leaning against the wall with the door cracked, blowing the exhale of his cigarette into the back alley. When you look past him all you see is a steady sheet of rain so thick you cant even make out his car parked a few feet away.

“Really coming down out there.” Richie mutters keeping his eyes cast down as a sigh escapes you. It’s summer so it’s a warm but that doesn’t mean you want to drown on your way home. You don’t want to stay here either though so you take a step closer to Richie and pray it slacks off by the time you bum a few hits from his smoke.

“Let me give you a ride home, yeah?”

The last time he gave you a ride home you didn’t even make it to the front seat of his Honda as he buried one hand in your hair and guided you to the back seat with the other. A minute later you were propping your head up on a car seat with Richie’s face buried between your legs.

“…my best behavior. I promise.” Richie is saying as you’re pulled from the memory that spreads that familiar warmth only he can provide through your body. You open your mouth to protest as a flash of lightening brightens the night sky changing your mind and thanking him quietly. You watch him shrug off his thin hoodie and hand it to you, slipping it on over your white tank top thanking him again. He doesn’t speak until he’s sitting behind the wheel of his car with water dripping in his eyes, damp hands gripping the steering wheel nervously.

“Y/N. About earlier…”

“Richie.” You’re tired - physically and mentally and you still don’t want to do this today even if it’s now technically tomorrow. “Jus’…, don’t talk about yourself like that anymore okay? I don’t think that shit and it fucking bothers me that you think I do.” You sit beside him in his car wrapped in his thin zip up hoodie that shielded you from most of the rain and nod - whispering that you’re sorry. “When I saw you talking with cousin today - knowing that you and him make way more fucking sense than me and you. I….” His words die in his throat as he shakes the thought and flips on his headlights before turning to back out of the alley.

“I’m just… sorry if I ever made you think that shit Y/N.”

…and that’s more than any other guys ever given you.

Richie drives you home in silence after that as you pick at the tiny hole in the cuff of his hoodie - lifting your eyes to his once he brings the car to a stop at your apartment complex. “You wanna beer?” You whisper - not sure why your voice comes out so soft as he finds your eyes and nods. “Sure.”

So you both make your way across the wet parking lot and into the building as Richie brushes the rain water from his hair with his fingertips and you fumble for the keys you placed in the deep pockets of his hoodie - flipping on the dim kitchen light as you enter your space.

“Your place is really nice.” He assures you - looking around the quaint but tidy apartment you call home as you hand him an ice cold beer from the back of the fridge. “Thanks sweetheart.”

The term of endearment rolls off his tongue as he brings the bottle to his lips and takes a quick pull, glancing down to see what brand you have. When he looks up again you’ve tossed your keys and wallet to their designated spot on the counter and lifted yourself to the faux marble top - taking a slow drink from your own bottle.

Just outside your kitchen window a flash of lightening brightens the room followed by another roll of thunder making you idly slide closer to your company.

“It’s really coming down out there.” Richie says for the second time in thirty minutes and a laugh bubbles in your throat - it’s such an old man thing to say but for some reason you love it. You could listen to him talk about the weather and the price of oil in China all night and day. God you’ve got it bad. “What?” He asks with a grin and you assure him it’s nothing before swallowing another drink.

“So, you and cousin huh.” It’s not a question - it’s meant to come out more as a joking statement but he can’t hide the pang of hurt that fills his eyes before he’s looking away from you again. He doesn’t want you and Carmy together - Carmy is a baby, an annoying little shit - he wants you to like him. Not fucking baby bear. “That was just work shit, Richie. I don’t want him.”

You watch him laugh without humor and nod. He doesn’t believe you because why the fuck wouldn’t you want someone like Carmy? He was a forty-five year old loser with an ex-wife and a kid and no fucking chance of ever being anything but a joke. When you touch his arm his eyes only make it to your mouth, studying your words carefully as you assure him he’s the one you want.

“Y-Yeah?”

You nod and sit your bottle down beside you on the counter as he turns his body - standing between your parted legs, still fixated on your parted lips. “I told you I’d be on my best behavior, sweetheart.” Despite his words he steps closer to you - placing one hand on your hip as his eyes finally meets yours. Even with you sitting on the counter he’s still several inches taller than you so when he bends his neck to bring your lips together you recoil just enough to keep his gaze.

“I’ll stop if you want me to stop.” He whispers - his hand moving against the rough texture of your tank top before continuing past the hoodie to grasp at your waist. All you can manage is the slight horizontal shake of your head as he licks at his lips and lets his eyes fall back to yours. Suddenly there’s no air left in the room and whatever’s happening between the two of you is very different than what happens in the alley behind The Beef. This is soft and patient and fills your chest with a foreign emotion that catches in your throat.

“R-Richie?”

“Y-yeah?”

You swallow hard as he sits his own beer on the counter to your right before placing that hand on your thigh, the cold from the bottle igniting your hot skin as his palm slides into your cut off shorts and his fingers tease the crease of your leg making sure to stay outside of your panties until you give him the okay.

It’s never been like this with the two of you. The first time you hooked up you were screaming in his face a moment before he sunk his hands into your hair and backed you into Mikey’s office to fuck you on his desk. (He was never there anymore anyway - too busy with his coke and pills and bullshit Richie didn’t want to deal with.) That you could handle - messy and thoughtless and needy. This was nothing like that and it scared the shit out of you.

“What is it sweetheart?” Richie asks softly as you take in a deep breath and close your eyes focusing on the slow circles his thumb makes against the damp fabric covering your throbbing pussy. The wetness soaking through the thin fabric is driving him crazy - taking everything he has not to slip a finger inside of you.

“Touch me.” You finally whisper as his other hand moves to your collarbone, brushing the navy blue hoodie from your shoulder slowly as he inches closer to your mouth. “Okay.” He assures placing a soft kiss to your parted lips as a gasp rushes from your throat while he sinks his index finger into you slowly.

“So fucking wet for me baby.”

A moan follows along with a second finger as you scoot your hips closer to him and place your hand in his hair, brushing your fingers through the short strands as he leans his mouth into yours again - kissing you slowly, pushing his fingers into you further as yours tighten in his hair. Richie brings his thumb up to brush against your clit as you gasp into his mouth again before moaning his name against his lips.

“I love to hear you say my name sweetheart.”

You say it again as your insides begin to quake around him and you grasp his shoulders to try and steady yourself before you fall off the counter.

“I’ve got you baby. Jus’ let go and let me make you feel good, yeah?”

“Oh god… R-Richie…” It feels to good - to much as your legs begin to shake but he doesn’t slow the deep beckoning motion of his fingers causing a sudden rush of pleasure to fill your soul as you cry out and a string of profanity falls from his lips. “That’s it baby - so good for me.” You grip his hair as his own groan of pleasure follows and he finally eases his hand from your shorts - his other gripping at your throat gently as you try to pull air into your lungs.

You grasp his waist and pull him closer to your chest looking up at him with hooded eyes as you part your lips and he slips his wet fingers inside your mouth gently, eyes closing as you suck them clean and he grips your throat tighter. “So fucking good for me baby.” You can only moan in response as he pulls his fingers from your mouth to kiss you hard, sinking both hands into your hair to bring you to him. “Gonna make you come again sweetheart.”

Richie maybe a fuck boy at heart but a perk of being with an older man? He will make sure you’re completely spent before he even begins to think about his own pleasure. You’re kissing him again trying to force your tongue into his mouth as he whispers against your lips that your pussy belongs to him. That it was fucking made for him. You rest your forehead against his with a soft moan and nod slowly as he pulls at your shorts before sinking to his knees in your kitchen and buries his face between your thighs - drowning in you as your head falls back to the wall and your hand claps over your mouth to muffle the sob of pleasure that ring out through your apartment.

::::::

Another difference between hooking up with fuck boys in their twenties and Richie Jerimovich was fuck boys call you hot while Richie spent the entire night kissing every inch of your skin whispering how beautiful you were. The only thing he has in common with the fuck boys is the ease of absolutely ghosting you the next morning and all but ignoring you for a week and a half after giving you the best sex of your life.

At first you were confused. His breath catching in his throat when you touched his chest to stop him in the kitchen of The Beef the next day asking if you did something wrong. He laughed and assured you everything was cool but you knew he regretted all the shit he’d whispered to you in the darkness of your bedroom.

Such a good girl for me Y/N.

You’re fucking beautiful.

Keep these pretty eyes on me baby.

F-fuckk—-, Y/N I love… this. Love you… the way you make me feel baby.

Whatever. Over the next week Tina asks you several times if everything’s okay between you and Richie because you don’t argue anymore. Richie barely speaks to you now and when a guy you met on Tinder comes in for a sandwich and a kiss Richie doesn’t even slow his loud conversation with one of the locals - doesn’t glance your way as Zach an obvious douche bag sinks his bulky hands into your hair and all but drags you across the counter to deepen your goodbye kiss.

“Damn, sweetheart. He’s an aggressive one.” Richie says with a laugh and his pal joins in like it’s the funniest shit ever uttered into existence as you make your way back into the kitchen feeling the heat creep into your cheeks. Later that night when everyone is gone but the two of you and Carmy - who sits in his office thumbing through overdue bills - Richie stands closer to you than he has in weeks - clearing his throat to mutter something about being sorry if things got weird between the two of you. When you assured him everything is cool he grins searching your eyes for any sign of the truth.

“Jus’ been busy with the kid and work and shit.”

What he doesn’t say is you falling asleep on his chest that night and waking up with you in his arms the morning after the best sex of his life left a feeling inside of him he’d never felt before. Not even with the mother of his child. So he kissed the crown of your head and got the fuck out of there before he ruined your life.

That was the only thing he was good at - ruining people’s lives.

“Richie, it’s fine.”

“Y-yeah I know. I just uh… yeah. I’m gonna head out… you uh, need a ride?”

You lift your eyes to Richie’s and force a sweet smile. That’s the last thing you need from him. No good will come from it. “I’m good, thanks.” You had to stop fucking this man before you wind up letting him break your heart. “Alright. Be safe getting home, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You assure and smile brighter as he continues to gaze into your eyes for another long minute then heads towards the back of the restaurant to leave. Thankfully Richie is still standing beside his car smoking when you burst through the back door to the alley watching him lift his blue eyes quickly as you all but run to him - standing on your tip toes to slide your hands into the back of his hair and bring him down to your desperate kiss.

This time wasn’t like last time. This time was rough and messy and what you needed from him but Richie still had that lost look on his face as he laid you out over the hood of his car and fucked into you roughly, gripping your hips as you tried to muffle your moans. “Fuck—- Y/N. Pussy’s so tight baby, let me hear you sweetheart - hear how good I make you feel.”

You cry out as he hits that perfect spot deep inside of you over and over until you’re coming undone around him desperately, gripping the hood of his car as he squeezes your hips. The sounds coming from deep in his chest are primal - nearly growling as he leans down and kisses the back of your neck, slipping an arm around you to bring you closer to his chest. “You feel so fucking good Y/N.” He groans out grasping the hair at the nape of your neck. “…missed this so much.” He kisses your neck again to stop his mindless rambling before he tells you he fucking loves you and sends you running from his arms. “You’re taking me so good sweetheart. Gonna make me come inside this perfect fucking pussy—- yeah?”

“Y-yeah. Richie…, please…”

“Beg me to come inside you baby. Tell me how much you fucking want it.”

“Please! God…, please… Richie…”

Richie closes his eyes tightly from the sounds you’re making - biting at your shoulder to keep from whispering how much he loves doing this with you - how much he fucking loves you. “F-Fuck Y/N. So fucking good.” Shaking the thought again he talks you through your second orgasm telling you how beautiful you are and how pretty your moans sound as you tighten around his cock making him come a second later with a deep groan.

You wish you could say things got better after that - that you both grew up and confessed your deep-seated feelings for one other and Richie took you out on a date and stopped fucking you like a two-bit whore in alleys and backseats but instead the next day he answers his cellphone in the middle of the kitchen surprised the dull girl Tina says has pretty eyes wants another date.

“Hey. Y-yeah of course I remember—- sure. Alright, yeah. See you then sweetheart.”

You can only watch dumbfounded as he shoves his cellphone back in his pocket and glances around the kitchen to boast with Ebra and Marcus about the call back like he’s completely clueless.

Except he isn’t clueless - he’s trying to give you an out so you can have an actual boyfriend your own age who will give you everything you deserve in this world. Tina matches your expression - gaping at Richie as he grabs an apron and wraps it around his waist, laughing at nothing and asking her what her problem is. You toss the small paring knife in your hand to the counter and mutter something about taking a break - shoving past him without a word.

“What the fuck are you doing estupido?” Tina asks in passing as he turns his head in the direction you disappeared. When he opens the back door you’re sitting on a turned over crate texting on your phone like only a twenty-something can - barely glancing at the words as your thumbs move skillfully across the screen. When you’re done you pocket the phone and stand quickly - surprised to see Richie standing in your way.

“Sorry just needed some air.” You assure him trying to steady the shaking of your voice. Richie was supposed to just be a good time and now all these feelings were getting in the way of that. He can do whatever the hell he wants - he’s not your boyfriend. “Y-yeah, uh me too. You good?”

You can only answer by nodding your head as he pulls out a smoke and you share a few puffs before heading inside to finish your prep giving him your best smile as he watches you leave without a word.

The next day you’re already at work when Richie makes it in - stopping dead in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. You’re standing at the office door laughing with Carmy about one of his dumbass Noma stories and you look fucking beautiful.

You’re wearing a brown plaid skirt that barely covers your ass with a black long sleeve shirt that dips low on your chest - a simple gold chain dangling between your breasts. The knee high boots inside of his locker suddenly make sense as he glances down to the sensible shoes you wear to keep from killing your feet. Those boots with that outfit will break men’s necks in the street. “H-hey.” He mutters to Tina and Marcus but he’s unable to look away from you - your natural beauty enhanced by the dark makeup around your eyes - bringing out the beautiful color even more. The sight of you makes his heart hammer harder in his chest as you lift your eyes to his slowly.

The smile you give Carmy can’t even wipe the dazed look from his face. “You look really nice today sweetheart.” You thank him softly and remind Carmy that you’re off early tonight before heading to the front to stock the napkins.

“Hitting the club after work?” Richie mutters coming up beside you as you laugh - maybe a little too loudly and shake your head, letting your hair fall into your eyes as you close the napkin holder carefully. “Zach’s taking me out.” You assure him with an innocent smile surprised at how well he hides his distain. “Oh yeah?”

You search his eyes for anything - jealously, regret - anything to show you that you’re more than just a piece of ass to him. “Yeah.” Richie’s face gives nothing away as he nods and hopes you have a good time.

When it’s time to go you don’t bother saying goodbye to him - who’s busy with a customer anyway - pulling your boot on as you rush out the front door to jump in Zach’s lifted F150. Richie lifts his eyes - watching as the douche bag barely gives you time to sit down before he’s pulling into oncoming traffic - his loud exhaust echoing through the street. Inside The Original Beef of Chicagoland cousin slams the register drawer hard and mutters a loud “Fuck!”

::::::

It didn’t take you long to see what everyone else saw in Zach. He was a douche bag but you tried to will it from existence in hopes to take your mind off of your tall and confusing co-worker. It wasn’t Zach’s sporadic driving to the fast food joint or his hand gripping your upper thigh the entire time he ordered through the drive through menu - not even when he asked if you were going in half once you made it to the window. You smiled through his arrogant and constant self promotion at the bar he took you to afterward - not even when you placed another twenty on top of his dollar tip when you left.

It wasn’t until you were in the parking lot with his hands in your hair and his strong body pressing you roughly against his truck that you realized this was a huge mistake. “Thanks for taking me out tonight.” You say placing your hand to his chest to try and put some space between the two of you but your date doesn’t really get the hint. Zach barely makes you a reply as he forces his tongue back into your mouth. You press your palm into his chest firmly as he finally backs away enough to take in a needed breath.

“You’re so god damn hot.” He assures you gripping your head tighter as he tries to bring you back to his sloppy kiss.

“I uh, maybe we should go home.” That didn’t come out right. You don’t want to go home with him you just want him to take you home. “You wanna go home?” He whispers against your lips before kissing you again. “Y-yeah.”

Zach steps away from you with a smile and rounds his truck to get inside as you take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves. He rolls down the passenger window a second later and tells you to come on, muttering something about the price of gas as you pull yourself up into the truck. It won’t surprise you if he asks for gas money before the night is over.

He doesn’t - which is the highlight of your evening because instead he asks you to at least suck my dick or something as you sit in front of his apartment complex assuring him you aren’t going to come inside. After pulling away from his attempt to grope you one last time Zach grabs your jaw forcing your face back to his with a bruising grip as he shoves his tongue toward you and tries to pull you into his lap. Tell me to stop and I’ll stop sweetheart. Richie’s soft words fill your head as tears prick your eyes and you maneuver around until your knee connects nicely with Zach’s tiny man balls. He doubles over in pain like all men do and calls you a fucking bitch before telling you to find your own fucking way home.

“Fucking whore.” He snaps as you scramble out of his truck and head towards the sidewalk wrapping your arms around you tightly. Zach’s not the first guy to treat you like shit in Chicago but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping he’d be a good distraction from your Jerimovich situation. Maybe you were just a glutton for punishment. You wipe at your tears as you call an Uber - thankful when they pull up to put more space between you and the douche bag Zach.

You should have just went home - that would have been the practical and mature thing to do but most twenty-three year olds were anything but practical and mature so instead you get dropped off at the bar in River North where you did karaoke with Richie, Tina and Marcus a few months ago - pushing your way through the crowd to take a seat at the bar.

It only takes ordering a double shot of tequila to forget about Zach but you drink four more trying not to think about Richie and how he always insists on licking salt from your neck when he does his tequila shots. You watch several people butcher popular songs and make sure to leave a good tip for the bartender before you push yourself from the bar to head outside to wait for your Uber. Except when your Uber driver says hello he also assures you you’re the hottest chick he’s ever seen which causes tears to well in your eyes as you cancel the service and start walking much to your feet’s dismay.

The Beef’s only six miles from the bar but by the time you’re standing at the old sign swinging above the door you don’t know if you’re crying from the pain in your jaw or your feet or everything in between. Tell me to stop and I’ll stop sweetheart. Tonight could have ended a lot worse with Zach and for what? To make Richie jealous? What was the point? The only time he even looks at you is when he’s fucking you.

“Y/N? Hey.”

Every muscle in your body jerks as Richie places his hand on your shoulder and you lose what little control you’ve had on this awful night - covering your face as a sob escapes you. “Hey. Come ‘ere. Look at me.” You turn to him slowly and bury your face in his chest so you don’t have to look at him as his arms wrap around you. “Y/N, are you alright? Look at me - please.” You’ve never heard him sound so desperate as you lift your eyes from his chest slowly and assure him you’re alright - just tired. Richie is a lot of things but he’s not stupid, bringing his fingers to your hair to tilt your face up to the street light.

Maybe someone who didn’t look at you ten hours a day every day of his fucking life would miss the three yellow bruises along your jaw but as his fingers tighten slightly in your hair you know that’s not the case here. The echo of your upbeat ringtone keeps him from having to ask as you down to the phone in your hand. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it after canceling your Uber.

Zach’s name flashes across the screen along with several apologizing text messages asking you to come back to his place so he can explain. “Tell him you’ll be right there and to send you a pin of his place.” Richie’s words are lethal as you swipe your thumb across the screen and bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello.” Richie can feel his limbs begin to shake as he pulls his hand from your hair and listens to your conversation silently, taking in a deep breath as you tell Zach you’re at another bar and cant remember where his place is. “No, I can Uber back just send me a pin drop so I can tell the driver? Okay. Yeah I got it. Okay, it’s okay. I’ll see you soon.”

When you hang up Richie wipes the tears from your cheeks then his thumb across the faint bruise on your jaw. “Richie…, please don’t leave.”

“M‘not going anywhere sweetheart. Just lemme make a call yeah?” He says as you hand him your phone and he dials a number before lifting his eyes to yours as he brings it to his ear. “Aye. Crooked John. Yeah, Richie. It’s a burner listen I need you to take care of something for me. I’ll send you a pin drop. Lifted white truck in the lot. I appreciate you John - you come by this week yeah? Free Italian beef on me. Alright man. Later.”

You look up at Richie like he’s some kind of mafia crime boss. “Are they gonna kill him?” You ask as he returns your phone and you block Zach’s number mid ring looking back up to Richie quickly. “Depends on what the fuck he did to you.”

“Nothing. Just grabbed my face when I tried to leave. Called me a bitch when I kneed him in the nuts. Probably didn’t even hurt - big truck like that they’ve gotta be tiny.” Despite the seriousness swimming in Richie’s eyes he laughs and shakes his head, brushing his thumb against your jaw again. “Can I kiss you?”

His question catches you off guard and you can only nod as he steps closer to you placing his lips to yours gently. That’s all he intended - just a soft kiss to ease the panic that filled his chest seeing you like this but when your tongue brushes against his he’s lost in you once again.

“You gonna let me take you out on a real date sweetheart?” He asks when you pull away to catch your breath. “Tonight?” Your feet hurt and you know you must look awful from crying. He smiles as you tell him this then he assures you you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on which tightens something in your chest. “Not tonight. Tonight I’m gonna take you home - run you a bath and rub your feet for as long as you want me too. Tomorrow I’ll take you out - anywhere you wanna go beautiful.”

You smile up at him, searching his blue eyes carefully. “What about the girl with the pretty eyes?”

“What about you?” He asks lifting his eyebrow in question which causes a soft laugh to escape you. “The one that called you for a second date.” The tinge of jealously laced with your words widens Richie’s grin as he runs his fingers through your hair. “I called her back and canceled after you left. You don’t know how bad I wanted to search this fucking city for you tonight Y/N. How fucking crazy it was making me thinking about you being with someone else.”

Richie rests his forehead on yours as you assure him he’s the only person you want to be with.

::::::

Richie drives you to his place and carries you up to his apartment easily - sparing you anymore foot pain then he keeps his promise and fills his large bathtub nearly to the top before helping you out of your clothes so you can sink into the hot water. “You uh want something to drink? I’ve got beer and maybe some capri-suns, they’re pretty good.”

The eight shots of tequila make you giggle as he disappears returning with two capri suns. It doesn’t take much to convince him there’s plenty of room for both of you in the tub - watching him shed his clothes quickly and join you at the opposite end before demanding your foot with strong hands.

Richie warns you about the soft moans you’re making between sips of fruit punch as he massages the arch of your foot thoroughly - grinning at the way you squirm when he touches a certain spot. After another minute of tortuous bliss you pull your foot from his grasp and move across the tub being careful not to slosh water to the floor until you’re straddling his lap with your hands on his face - kissing him deeply as his soapy arms glide up your back to pull you in closer.

He can’t help but to return you kiss for a moment before remembering the shit you’ve been through tonight - leaning his head back to gaze into your eyes as you take in a quick breath.

“Hey. We don’t havet’a do this - we can jus’….” A groan escapes him as you glide your naked body over his and a little water sloshes over the edge of the tub. “It’s okay - I want to…, want you to erase every memory of that jag-off from existence.” You assure him softly as his fingers grasp the back of your head and bring you back to his parted lips. He kisses you intensely, savoring every inch of your mouth with his slow tongue and you sink your weight to his lap running your wet fingers through his hair.

“I can do that easy sweetheart but not like this. I’m a fuckin’ old man remember? Can’t risk breaking a hip.”

The laugh that rushes from your throat narrows his eyes at first before his smile fills your soul and you kiss him again. “Lemme wash your hair.” Richie murmurs against your lips as you nod and grasp the edge of the tub, turning so your back is against his chest and he grabs an oversized fast food cup from the corner dipping it into the water quickly before running the warm water over your head. A minute later you’re moaning again - from his fingers in your hair, massaging the shampoo into your scalp as you sink back into his chest with a groan. When Richie finishes with your hair he peppers soft kisses along your shoulder letting his palm run over your chest with a deep groan.

“You are so perfect sweetheart. Everything about you.” He whispers against your throat making you sigh from his sweet words. Why you ever thought someone like Zach could hold a candle to Richie is beyond you but all this could easily go away again. Richie is a bipolar old man who doesn’t really know what he wants in life. “I don’t want you to ghost me tomorrow.” You whisper suddenly - stopping his mouth at your jugular. “Ghost you?”

“Not talk to me at work or… treat me like you don’t want me.” The hard length of his cock against your ass is assurance that he wants you. “I… I don’t mean to do that. I just look at you and can’t figure out why you wanna be with someone like me. You deserve someone better than me sweetheart.” You turn your face to meet his eyes and frown at the thought.

“I think you’re perfect for me.”

Your eyes close as he smiles against your throat, trailing his kiss back to your shoulder as he mutters something about taking you to bed now. You shift your body to stand from the tub and he follows grabbing you the oversized towel he brought from the hallway closet before joining you.

::::::

“Look at this shit.” Richie says with a laugh, never slowing the delicate strokes of his fingers along your spine as you lift your head from his chest to glance at his cellphone. Crooked John has sent a text message - a picture of Zach’s lifted F150. Except now every piece of glass on the truck is busted, windshield - windows, headlights and it’s sitting on four flats. “Holy shit.” You mutter unable to hide your grin. “Asshole deserves worse that’s for sure.”

You lay your head back to Richie’s chest and run your palm over his torso to pull him closer to you. “Thanks Godfather.” You assure with a quiet laugh making his fingers stop suddenly. “Godfather?” He asks with a laugh. “Okay, how about mafia daddy?” You ask and lift your eyes back to his, his beautiful smile spreading across his face as he pulls you up to his kiss - running his fingers into your hair to look at you. “You’re so fucking weird.” He assures with a laugh as you lean down to kiss him again, brushing your tongue against his slowly as his body begins to stir beneath you - hands grasping at your rutting hips.

“Please don’t freak out on me Y/N but I swear I think I fucking love you.” The words rush from Richie’s lips as you take in a deep breath, eyes going wide as his hands sink into your hair. “You don’t have to say anything - it’s just what I feel every time I fucking think about you.”

All you can do is nod feeling the same way but the days been too long to process those kind of emotions tonight. “You’re so fucking beautiful baby.” Richie whispers as he searches your face before you lean into his parted lips, kissing him slowly as you resume grinding your hips against his, fingers tightening in your hair. “Ah—-, fuck sweetheart.”

A gasp escapes your throat as Richie fucks up into slowly, bringing your forehead to his as your eyes close tightly. “…feels so good Rich—-..” You assure him softly as he cuts off your words with his desperate kiss - thrusting into you again and again as the prettiest sounds fall from your lips. Despite all of the emotions running through your head and your heart you manage to not tell him you love him, not even when it’s all you can think about as he lays you on your back and fucks you into oblivion - leaving no doubt in your mind that he loves you.

::::::

You manage not to tell him you love him until after your date - where he takes you to this quiet little place outside of River North with tiny tea light candles and the most amazing sushi you’ve ever had. You even offer to pay because only you him and Carmy know Richie’s the last to get paid at The Beef - always making sure everyone else’s checks clear first but he scoffs at you and asks you not to embarrass him with a sly grin. After that all you can do is gaze into his blue eyes as he holds your hands in his from across the table and tells you a hilarious story about him and Mikey growing up then he drives you home and kisses you forever at your apartment door without ever asking to come inside.

The next afternoon you come into work and dump your stuff in Richie’s locker like usual, brushing your fingers through your hair before you go in search of him - hearing him long before you see him as he stands at the register laughing with one of the regulars. “Hey.” He says with a smile - letting his eyes wash over you for a moment. There’s nothing special about today - you’re wearing black leggings and an oversized pale blue shirt but he assures you that you look beautiful. The Beef is uncharacteristically slow but it feels like the best day of Richie’s fucking life when you stop before him and slide both of your hands around his neck - bringing his tall frame down to your hard kiss. When he pulls away he’s laughing nervously, searching your eyes and asking if everything’s okay.

“I love you.” You assure him as his smile falls and his eyes widen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck Y/N, I love you too.”

Then he’s kissing you again - both hands in your hair as everything disappears around you and there’s just Richie.

114 notes · View notes

blackynsupremacy · 5 months ago

Text

Movie Nights + Tickle Fights

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

pairing: clark kent x black!chloe sullivan

casting: tom welling and kelly rowland

contains: lots of words, fluff, romance, mutual pining, a bit of shyness, established relationship, chloe is a bit stubborn, playful banter, a bit of a makeout session, brief descriptions of gore and blood.

taglist: @rosiestalez @afrowrites @afrogirl3005

@yugiohio

summary: ever since they were in middle school, clark and chloe would have a movie night every other weekend at her place. this is the first one they’ve had since they became an official couple and chloe suggests they watch a horror movie tonight. clark is apprehensive because each time they’ve tried to watch one in the past, chloe would be too scared to finish it and won’t go to sleep. chloe ain’t no punk, so she makes a wager with her boyfriend.

the amber glow of the lamps that sat on the tables on either side of the long, cushioned sofa lit up the sullivan’s living room to set the exact ambience that chloe was going for. the soles of her bare feet made a soft, yet fervent patting sound on the hardwood floors as she paced back and forth to make sure everything was in its right place and that she was prepared with the necessities that her and her anticipated company would have everything they need for the night. she began to conjour up a mental checklist of the final details: collections of dvds? check. several tubs of ice cream purchased on dad’s credit card? check. warm and cozy blankets with pillows that are the right amount of fluff for cuddling? check.

chloe stopped her pacing to observe her figure in the living room mirror. the grey tank top she adorned exposed a bit of her waist and was met with a pair of white sweat pants. it wasn’t like he hadn’t had a glimpse of her bronze colored skin before considering it was part of her signature look in the daily rotation of outfits she owned. as she was adjusting the paisley patterned bandana that was secured on top of her black cherry highlighted bob that was perfectly curled at the ends, her stomach tingled with a rush of anxiety, but elation. this company she was expecting wasn’t just any company. this was clark kent. her best friend since the 7th grade and currently her first, serious relationship.

oh, no. this wasn’t just some casual, testing–the– waters type of connection. chloe and clark were locked in for real this time. no games, no ultimatum with smallville’s local sweetheart, it was just a real bond that got stronger no matter how much the circumstances tried to sever it. clark and chloe made the choice to be with each other and there was no regrets by either of them. the best part about this friendship turned budding romance was that this was someone she truly knew and truly loved. clark kent was her first, real, love since their youth. first loves can either be blissful or painful. trust and believe that chloe sullivan has experienced both at such an intensity. the source of bliss was just clark being…clark! the type of boy you bring home to mama well—dad in her case. his benevolence, humility, intelligence, charisma, empathy, and loyalty was a full package of its own. not to mention that clark was fine as hell! there are some cuties here and there at their school, but chloe believed that clark was too handsome to even be from this planet. he usually kept to himself, but whether he knew it or not, the girls were checking for the 6’3 raven haired, aqua eyed male always strolling in his signature flannel, jeans, and boots combo—and chloe was no different. these things alone gave her something more than butterflies and she learned to put more trust in him despite his…quirks.

now, even though they were tight for a good minute they definitely had some disagreements over the years about issues like the torch, clark’s weird secrecy, her natural nosiness as a journalist, clark not getting his priorities together when it came down between chloe and lana lang, his stubbornness and the type of guys she’s seeing that clark warns her about like she was his girl (he was right sometimes). sometimes these arguments would get so heated, one of them would cross a line to the point where they wouldn’t cross paths at school, that was the worst part. they eventually apologize, hug it out, and keep keepin’ on. even in the middle of a fight, when it really came to it, they were still down for each other!

they’ve always had movie nights over the years, but it was just a friendly kickback where they crack jokes, binge on junk food, and watch an R-rated movie from the secret stash when they knew they were just 13. that was very much platonic–until now. in a way, it was sort of like a first date, most couples would probably prefer a fancy restaurant, a picnic or night out in metropolis, but as along as chloe had clark by her side, she didn’t care where they were. she’s not tripping because they just started making things exclusive between them, so they’ll get there soon. she couldn’t help, but let a wide smile spread as her face heated up at thought of him.

speaking of her boyfriend. as if on cue, chloe’s train of thought came to halt when she heard the high pitched ring of the doorbell. her eyes shifted to the ticking clock on the wall that clearly read 8:00 PM on the dot. she shook her head to bring herself back to planet earth before taking a deep breath and power walking to the door. she elevated her bare heels off the floor to peer through the peephole because you’ll never know who’s really there until you check. she lovingly sighed with relief as her boyfriend’s tall frame came into the view of the circular looking glass. he looked like his hands were tucked behind his back. chloe assumed it was just the rest of the snacks that clark agreed to pick up for the evening. the smile on her face doesn’t leave her glossed lips as she took the opportunity to unlock and turn the doorknob to the right before she finally removed the barrier that stands between them.

“hey, hey!” she greeted him, flashing a smile. her voice in her head register due to her excitement yet her nerves wrestling in her stomach. she swallowed it down and took a step back, so that he could enter through the door. “come on in! you’re right on time and i see that you’ve come bearing gifts?” she quipped, crossing her arms and leaning a bit to the left to peek at what was concealed behind his back. clark chuckled and flashed his own award winning smile. his cheeks tinted a light pink before he replied, “hey! i’m glad because i thought i was too early. oh, yeah! i stopped by the store and got some of our favorite toxic waste.” one of his arms came from behind to reveal two plastic bags filled with snacks and sodas for both of them to enjoy. “i used all my savings to make sure we had enough to last us through the night and i got you these…”

chloe’s brown eyes gazed down at the bouquet of pink peony tulips that were beautifully arranged and by judging of the vibrant, blush hue of the petals, they were obviously home grown and well taken care of before being delicately packaged. her pupils dilated at the bouquet as he set the bags down on a nearby table to take a step closer to her, the tulips the only thing in between them. she felt the temperature of her face rise again. her gleaming smile meeting clark’s before shifting her eyes to the flowers in his large hand. “clark i—thank you so much! you know you didn’t have to—“ he cut her sentence short. “no, chloe, i wanted to. i’ve realized that this is the first time we’ve spent some time alone since we’ve made things official and even though it’s not on a big, fancy date, i wanted to show you that this night is special to me just as it is to you, so that’s why i wanted to show up with more than just the usual teeth-rotting junk.” they briefly laugh before he resumes speaking, “so with a lot of help from my mom, we grew these fresh on the farm and she said they represent ‘a perfect love and a new beginning’ chloe, i want this new beginning for us to start on the right foot. we’ve definitely had our share of differences in the past, but you’re someone i can always count on especially considering my—flaws and that’s why i want—no, need to stay by your side.” his proclamation was then cut short when chloe fills in the gap between them by embracing her arms around his torso, her head nuzzling securely on his chest. clark doesn’t hesitate as his own arms find their place around her upper body, bringing her in closer. his chin rested atop of her head, he can still inhale the familiar scent of the blue magic hair dress moisturizer she uses daily through the bandana.

“and i thought i could talk, but it seems i’ve truly met my match.” she murmured, listening to the sweet music of his heartbeat. “clark, i don’t care where we are or what we’re doing, i just want it to be with you and that’s more than enough for me.” she lifted her head to catch her gaze with his. her right hand slithering out from behind his back to delicately touch his beautifully sculpted jaw, the pad of her thumb slowly moving back and forth across his skin as she took a second to admire the contrast of their respective skin tones complimenting each other. “this love here will be imperfect. any love is, but there’s no one else i’d rather do it with.” she finally spoke before her toes aid in lifting her face up closer to his, placing a soft, yet lingering kiss on his cheek and she looked back to see that the boy’s face had matched the rosy hue of the flowers he’d given her. not only that, a bit of her glittering lip gloss left an imprint.

she lets out a laugh and wipes the residue off with her thumb. “my bad, clark! but, seriously this means so much to me. thank you.” she momentarily breaks the embrace and takes a step back to retrieve the flowers, butterflies emerging in her abdomen as their hands meet again to make the exchange. chloe takes a few seconds to truly admire the gift from the farm boy, bringing the flowers to her nose to take in their intoxicating scent. “you and miss martha really put in that work, huh? they smell and look amazing!” he admires her as she fawns over the flowers.

“you look amazing.” he chimed in. a smirk rising on his lips as he watched her take a pause. damn, that farm boy charm will always work in his favor. that compliment almost caused her brain to completely malfunction. chloe playfully rolls her eyes, a cheesy grin playing on her face as she walks to find an empty vase to fill with water before putting the flowers in. if this boy is saying this while i’m just in a tank and sweats, imagine if—girl, you better stop! she shuts down her inner voice before she responds, “aw, i appreciate it, boo! but flattery doesn’t get you off the hook from popcorn duty. you know where to find everything. i’m in charge of picking out the movie, so get on it!” playfully, she tapped him on the arm and picked up the bags of the other snacks, bringing them to the coffee table set before the sofa. clark snickered, shaking his head. yep, that’s the chloe i certainly know.

he nodded, accepting the task and made his way to the kitchen. he rummaged around in the sullivan’s pantry to retrieve one of the several packages of jiffy pop. he took a quick glance behind him to find chloe herself searching meticulously for a film to watch. he noticed how she furrowed her brows with focus as she read the titles and descriptions from front to back. her face scrunching up in disapproval before putting the vhs back in its rightful place on the shelf. she was definitely preoccupied enough for clark to turn his head back to the raw, packaged corn kernels that were sitting atop the stove. his pupils focused on the object for a few seconds as the heat started to radiate from his eyes. the foil began to expand wider the longer he stared. after about a minute and a half, clark, feeling accomplished at how much of a handle he’s got on his newfound ability, decided that the popcorn was prepared to perfection. he poured the snack into a large bowl for the couple to share and sauntered in the living room as his enhanced hearing picked up on sound of the mumblings of his girlfriend.

“no…no… ha, yes! got it.” chloe beamed triumphantly, holding the tape with her back to clark.

“it sounds like you’ve struck gold, so i’m guessing you’ve finally chosen what we’re watching tonight?” he questioned placing the popcorn down on the coffee table before making his way in her direction to stand behind her. his towering height made it possible to see the title cover of the film she carried. his eyebrows furrow before one of them raises.

“you want to watch ‘scream’ ? chlo’, i’m not sure that’s a good idea.” clark advises with a reluctant expression, placing his palm on her shoulder.

“what? why not, clark? i didn’t want to put on something cheesy. it’s been a minute since we’ve seen a good scary movie, you know. you’re not scared are you?” she seemed puzzled that this boy who has faced individuals that fit the criteria of her “wall of weird” at the torch would be frightened of a slasher film until he replied, “it’s not me that i’m worried about. it’s you. i remember when we were 12, you wanted us to watch ‘a nightmare on elm street’ and when it was over, you begged me to stay up all night with you watching ‘blues clues’, so you wouldn’t get nightmares—we haven’t watched a horror movie ever since. i didn’t really mind back then, but that worried me.”

chole dismissed his plea before turning her body to his, still looking down at the tape.

“mmcht! c’mon, clark. that was like what—almost 4 years ago? for one, i’m grown…ish! for two, i ain’t no punk because the way things are set up in smallville, i’ve faced worse than fine ass psychotics playing dress up and stabbing horny teens. you really don’t think i can handle it?” she challenged. a gaze of intrigue played in her eyes and she crossed one arm across her exposed stomach as her hand fidgeted with the tape.

“it’s not that i don’t think you can handle it, chloe. maybe you chose it because—“ he took a beat of pause, licking his lips before taking one inch closer to his girlfriend and adjusting his knee to meet her height and utter softly in her ear. “it’s just an excuse to get closer to me. the more i think about it, the more i think how adorable it is!”he stood back up to his previous position, cheekily grinning at chloe’s “pissed” reaction. a hearty, but dry faux chuckle leaves her lips.

“oh, ho ho. so you think i’m trying to get right? don’t get too hot, now. watch me sit through this movie without flinching. matter of fact, i’ll bet you twenty dollars and a week of free lattes from the talon that i can watch this movie and sleep like a baby. all. night. long.” she sized him up (the best she knew how) and pointed her finger on his very toned chest. lord, help me. this was the wrong time to start getting flustered right now.

“come on, chloe i don’t think—“

“what, clark? you scared? you know there’s something in it for you if you so happen to win. tell me what you want.”

he froze upon seeing her face this close. a teasing glint playing in those deep earthly pools of brown. her perfectly arched brow raising above the other as a smirk formed on her naturally lined lips. the shine of her lip gloss still hasn’t diminished from that kiss she laid on his crimson face earlier. clark wondered just how much—how much more would it take to get all that glittering substance removed from her lips? this was a challenge that he was willing to take on. only if she’s down for it of course, clark wouldn’t do anything that she wasn’t comfortable with and vice versa. he reciprocated the smirk to match her energy before responding,

“that’s for me to know and for you to find out. as a journalist, it shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

she snickered, shaking her head. typical clark. always playing “the man of mystery” all too well.

“it’s a bet. you better get that allowance ready to blow on your girl’s caffeine addiction.” she says before taking a step back and holding out her hand to shake.

“all i can say is may the best one win.” clark humbly utters giving her hand a firm, kent handshake to finalize the deal. he won’t say it, but he’s got this in the bag. he takes it upon himself to let chloe find her position on the sofa while he inserts the tape into the vcr. after pressing the “play” button, he returns to comfortably take a seat next to where chloe’s sitting with the bowl of popcorn on her lap for both of them indulge in. he places one arm along the back of the couch behind her shoulders and the other, reaching for the buttery snack.

the film opens as drew barrymore’s “casey” is conversing on the phone with the deep voice of an unknown man who calls her by mistake, but he wants to keep talking. there is some mild flirting between the two and he’s asking her questions such as what her favorite scary movie is and if she has a boyfriend. things then take a turn when he reveals that he’s been watching her the whole time that they’ve been on the phone. the scene heightens with suspense as the girl is locking doors, constantly looking over her shoulders, and aggressively threatens to call the police on this creep. chloe absentmindedly scoots an inch closer to clark as she watches, not knowing that he’s glancing at her through his peripheral vision. his heightened sense of hearing picking up the sound of the silent gulp run down her throat and heart rate increase in tempo by the time they watch the cloaked figure run through the house looking for his next victim after he guts the battered and bloodied football player from the inside out with a hunting knife. with each minute of the scene proceeding, she just got a little bit closer to the point her forearm was touching the side of his torso. with her this close in proximity, it sounds like her heart was going to leap from her chest! clark was now starting to get concerned, so he taps her shoulder and leans in to whisper in her ear.

“hey, are you okay? we can just drop the bet and watch something else, chloe. i want to make sure that both of us have a good time tonight, okay?” he peers his baby blues to her brown with the gentleman-like sincerity that martha and jonathan definitely raised him with. the hand that was behind her shoulders came slowly in contact with her skin to bring her in closer and reassuringly caress her forearm. chloe knew that clark’s eye contact had better communication than his mouth sometimes, so she knew he was really looking out for her. a smile was growing on her face as her affection, gratitude, and respect grew for him. ugh—what a man. it’s just those little things that he does that’s always a reminder to her of “why him?” why not him? god, if it wasn’t so soon she would just blurt out those three little words, but there was another three she had to confess to end this wager—forfeiting. she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak before she was interrupted by a shrill sound,

“clark, i—“

“RRRRRIIIIIIINGGGG!”

her head turns quickly to the spiral, corded landline hanging on the wall in between the kitchen and living room, waiting for her to accept the call. she then turns to clark, “let me get that real quick. pause the movie till i get back?” clark gives her nod, removing his arm from around her, and pressing the “pause” button on the remote. she rises from the sofa and trudges towards the phone, inwardly groaning at whoever the hell may be calling to interrupt this moment with her boyfriend. her hand reaches to pick up the receiver and puts it to her ear and provides the customary “hello?” to the caller. clark sits patiently as his ears pick up on the conversation to make sure everything’s alright.

“oh, hey dad!”

that’s right! her father, gabe, was spending the weekend in metropolis for a deal he needed to close on for the plant. he continued to listen.

“nothing, just having a movie night with clark. you know, like when we were kids?…. yeah, yeah we’ll make sure to clean up! is everything alright in metropolis? … that’s what’s up! i’m glad to hear that…no. no, dad—we are not doing that! lalalala! i can’t hear you! … seriously we just started dating, so no….yes, sir. i’ll tell him you said ‘hi.’ okay, we will…i love you, too. bye, daddy!”

she hurriedly hangs up the phone feeling mortified at her father’s forwardness. as she walks back she proceeds to dish out the details of the conversation. the highlight of it was that gabe suggested they’d “use protection” just in case because he was a “teenager once and he refuses to see his daughter end up like so and so’s daughter”, earning a flustered laugh from each other.

the laughing died down. chloe cleared her throat to resume her previous sentence in a low voice as the heat of embarrassment hit her face.

“you, win clark…”

now matter how quiet the volume of her voice was, clark heard it loud and clear. now, it was time to put his plan in action. with a mischievous grin he leaned in for her to repeat the sentence.

“i’m sorry? i don’t think i heard you that first time you’re gonna have to speak up, chlo’. “

she grumbles, “i said you win, clark.”

“i still can’t hear you, sweetheart. i guess you leave me no choice…” he teases, the pitch of his voice lowers as he draws his body closer to her on the sofa much like a crouching predator about to pounce on its prey. clark’s large hands were aiming to hover each side of her waist. chloe chuckles as the nerves of excitement yet anticipation shoot through her veins while she scoots herself backwards to create distance. a hint of playful fear curves on her full lips. she moves so far back that her spine falls against the cushion. clark’s smirking face now hovering over his giggling girlfriend still trying to play that stubborn act he knows too well.

“chloe sullivan, i’ll give you one last chance to admit your defeat out loud or else, you’ll have to suffer the consequences!” he states not daring to keep his eyes of her own, a sound of determination in his tone.

“clark kent, if you don’t back up! now, i know you heard me. just what the hell are you do—no, no! d-don’t! ah haha haha! stop!” chloe squeals after clark swiftly dives forward rapidly moving his digits along her waist. her body squirming trying to escape from his grip. it was futile! as the laughter takes over her system, her body gets weaker under his touch. chloe’s contagious symphony of laughter didn’t take long for clark’s own chortles to harmonize. his pearly canines are exposed as his ears and heart are captivated by the pure tone of their happiness. his fingers take a pause.

“come on, chloe! repeat what you said!” he teasingly declares.

“n-no, you’ve heard me! i s-swear, clark! hahaha! she stubbornly squeaked out when she felt his fingers resume their attack on the tender area of her ribs. her sounds increasing in volume when he proceeded to apply a bit of pressure to her skin. the more stubborn she is, the more relentless he gets. during their friendship, he was kind of used to chloe bossing him around like an unpaid intern while she held down “the torch”. proofreading and editing articles, doing research, getting her coffee, you name it. clark knew it was about time to get his lick back! his fingers don’t stop at her ribs before they ascend to the sides of her neck. that’s exactly what got her. “stop— i can’t! p-please, clark! i’ll say it, haha! you win, clark, you win! i got scared!”

clark ceases his movements before his hands fall on either side of chloe’s neck as her voice diminishes. the couple has a stare down as the room is now filled with labored breathing as their chests rapidly heave, rising and falling until they reach the steady rhythm. clark breaks the silence.

“say it again.” he urges softly. his arched raven toned brows raise slightly, his oceanic gaze softens against her dark amber. the corners of his lips curving into a victorious smile of a bonafide winner.

“you win.” she confesses in a volume clear enough to accept her defeat, but the steady beat of her heart raced the longer she peered into his eyes. her own pupils wielding affection at the satisfied grin plastered across his face. a sense of playfulness washed over her as she knew he was eating up his opportunity at having the upper hand this time. whether one be victorious or defeated, clark and chloe would still find that common bliss between each other and for each other. it was now chloe’s turn to break the silence.

“now what was that prize you wanted so badly that it was worth hiding, hm?” she inquires, quirking her brow.

ready?

his pupils briefly focus on the lingering coat of shine on her lips. he gulps, licking his own nervously before taking a breath and a leap of courage.

aim.

“i’d like the pleasure of taking off your lip gloss —only if that’s okay with you, of course. it’s no pressure.” his face moves in closer as his right thumb inches to the side of her jawline to caress her sun-adored skin. his eyes shift from hers to her awaiting mouth again. the touch alone sends a surge of electric warmth through the young couple.

at first, his phrase left her puzzled. what does he mean by that? is there something wrong with my lip—oh. ooooh! you got that one, clark. the heat seeped into her face as realization settled in after she mentally put the together the pieces within seconds. girl, what the hell are you waiting for!? give that boy what you’ve been wanting to give him for years!

her conscience finally breaking out of her train of thought before she finally gives him the answer to cease the suspense once and for all.

“yeah, clark. go for it!” she whispers softly, titling her face up a bit forward to meet him halfway.

fire.

like a moth to a flame, clark’s lips immediately drew to chloe’s completely closing the gap between them. they begin with one gentle and lingering kiss to get an initial feel for each other’s touch on a new level. it’s exhilarating! before they knew it , they only crave for more. with each kiss, their tempo increases and their own unique rhythm sets the stage for their dance. clark’s hands find their place at the sides of chloe’s jaw to bring her face up closer against his and her fingers entrap themselves in the dark jungle of his curls. with the gentlest of motions, his palms descend from her jaw to her shoulders finally reaching their desired destination to the center of her spine. clark carefully applies pressure to signal her to sit upright. chloe reads the signal clearly and follows his lead, their chests centimeters from each other when clark sits himself up against the couch, his hands sliding to the small of her back. chloe adjusts her knees to sit against the sides of his legs, her arms eagerly encircling his broad, muscular shoulders.

a hum vibrates from chloe’s chest as she decides to take initiative by softly tugging clark’s now swollen, plush bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it to its original position. clark intends to match that same energy. he tilts her face in the opposite direction to slither his tongue to intimately mingle with hers, chloe whimpers in both surprise and approval of his forwardness. they continue to get lost within each other for another minute before they release to take a pause of realization of what’s going on between them. the lovers slowly bring their foreheads to connect, silently communicating their affection without ceasing their eye contact, and content smiles curving on their swollen lips. once their breathing is steady, they realize that tonight’s activities took a toll on their bodies. they take a second to stretch themselves from their previous position before clark lays on his side bringing chloe to lay in the (literal) shield of his chest, wrapping his arms around her figure once she’s comfortably nuzzling her face close enough to indulge in the sound of his heartbeat, allowing her brown eyes to doze away for the night. clark lays a final kiss upon the top of her silk wrapped scalp as his kryptonian senses tune in to her heartbeat before his own slumber follows suit.

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