Hello! Thank you for even looking at my page and even taking the time to look through my masterlist. Thank you for potentially reading my stories and I hope you enjoy them! I love to write and I love interacting with all of you!
Below is a link to my KOFI. You absolutely do not need to donate but it is always helpful and I am always grateful!
♡♡ Kofi ♡♡
All Right Now (Series)-- FINISHED!
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Does anyone know of any good Juice Ortiz fanfics??? I feel like I’ve read them all but wanna check and see if there’s anymore series out there, or wattpad?? I MIGHT MAKE MY OWN
Chapter 7 - Doin' Dirt, Getting Paid and Miss Loretta
Chapter 8 - Everything's Messy
Chapter 9 - Wake Up & Bow Down
Chapter 10 - Baptism By Fire
Chapter 11 - The Hits Keep Coming
Chapter 12 - Charming is Not So Charming
Chapter 13 - When Work Weighs In
Chapter 14 - Breakfast, Bosses & Booze
Chapter 15 - A Party Ain't a Party Till...
Chapter 16 - When The Clock Strikes Eleven
Chapter 17 - Morning Revelations
Chapter 18 - Taking Root
Chapter 19 - From Stockton To Lodi
Chapter 20 - Who's Driving this Thing?
Chapter 21 - No Thoughts Please
Chapter 22 - It Was Divine
Chapter 23 - Flyin' High
Chapter 24 - Close To Home
Chapter 25 - New Ground
Chapter 26 - Wounds Still Healing
Chapter 27 - Exposed
Chapter 28 - Everything's Fine??
Chapter 29 - Secrets and Promises
Chapter 30 - No Words Left
Chapter 31 - See You Later
Well, y'all that's the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading my story. Honestly, I would love to hear from you. Let me know what you thought about OC Raniyah...their history...the ending. Any opinions! Just drop me a lil message, my dms are always open! See you next story!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Richie Jerimovich x Carmy’s Childhood Friend!Reader
Summary: After a disagreement went a little too far, Richie told you not to come back. When he realized you really weren’t coming back, he had to come change your mind. Even if it meant knocking on your apartment door in the early hours of the morning.
CW: f!reader, probably off canon, takes place early season one, reader was carmy’s childhood friend, age gap, pre established relationship (not dating), flash back sequences, mentions of abuse, suicide mention, fighting, self deprecating, confessions, makeout, hickeys, makeup sex, nipple play, fingering, p in v, confessions, creampie
a/n: okay I’m barely three episodes in so be easy on me… I would have watched more by now but Disney+ is being a bitch and won’t let me password share
title track 🎶🚬
~~~
That stupid fucking leather jacket.
Over another jacket to beat the Chicago cold. Cigarettes and cheap cologne wafting in as you opened the door. Tight fitted t-shirt hugging his torso. Hands tucked into his pockets of the track pants he always wore to work. Eyebrows laying flatly across his eyes as he scanned you.
Locking your jaw as you shifted on your feet. Hip cocking to the side as you looked up at him. Rolling your shoulders and stretching your neck. A game of chicken to see who would speak first. Both your egos not allowing you to be the one to start the conversation.
Two in the morning. Richie Jerimovich had the nerve to knock on your door at two in the goddamn morning! After having said some of the most unflattering things to you not even forty-eight hours prior. Taking shots the way only someone you had known for years could. Beating you down to the point of tears. Yet still having the nerve to show up at your apartment during the late hours of the night. Early hours of the morning? Whatever.
You had met back when you were still a teenager. Coming home with Carmy after school one day. Having taken some stupid science fair assignment together. Both of you needing the extra grade. Remembering walking into their home to loud voices shouting over each other in the kitchen. Fire alarm blaring every second. Mikey had accidentally lit something on fire over their gas powered stove. His lanky friend whipping a towel at it while cussing him over and over. Richie was Mikey’s best friend. Late college age. Back when his hair was shaggy and he always wore a wife-beater under his opened button downs. His eyebrows had been harshly arched and his mouth hanging open as he looked over his shoulder to the two of you. Yelling at Carmy, who he lovingly called ‘cousin’, to grab the bag of flour from the cabinet. Throwing it haphazardly across the open flames. Leaving their kitchen in a state of snowy white. Slapping Mikey on the back of the head with another chastising grunt. Mocking him for the scene that you, their newest guest, had to walk in on. Something about making them look bad. His first impression leaving a momentous memory in your developing mind.
Carmy had remained one of your closest friends throughout your lives. Growing up together. Going to every party together. Helping him ask out his first girlfriend. Late night runs around town just to so you did not have to go home. Attending almost every family function the Berzatto’s had to offer. Earning your place as an honorary member. Even when he went off to culinary school and left everyone behind, you still found yourselves texting. More than he gave his own family. Which was telltale of your relationship. The brother you never had.
So when you got the call from Sugar a few months ago about Mikey, you did not hesitate to come lend a hand. However they needed, you would be there. Even when it meant working at The Beef as it fell apart under Carmy’s new leadership.
Things were more than tense in the overly-crowded-underpaid restaurant. No one wanting to take Carmy’s direction. Constantly referring to ‘the system’ they had before this. Not welcoming change.
“Obviously that system doesn’t work!” you remembered shouting in his face.
Richie was towering over you, lips pushed tightly together as his nostrils flared, “Worked just fine ‘til you two fuckers showed up and decided to change everything!”
And that was just the start of it all.
Richie looked to the side and huffed, “You gonna make me stand out in the cold?”
Rolling your eyes and scoffing, you stepped out of the doorway to allow him inside. Locking it behind him. Crossing your arms over your chest as you turned to face him. Leaning back into the door and keeping your lips sealed. Waiting whatever bullshit reason he had for being here at this hour.
Richie’s hand cupped the back of his neck. Rubbing it nervously. Pacing in your living room. Clicking his tongue as he spoke, “We sold out of meat tonight.”
You nodded, raising a brow.
“Well, actually we ran out. Carmy’s hell bent on some new way of cooking it. So we didn’t have enough prepped. And the vendors have quit… cause y’know we’re overdue or whatever,” Richie tapped his foot as he rambled.
You poked your tongue into your cheek. Wondering where the hell this could be going. There had to be a better reason he was here.
“Usually, it’s all hands on deck when things like this happen. It’s how we keep it together. But… there was some hands missing tonight,” Richie finally looked to you again.
You scoffed, “Richie—“
“Let me finish,” he held his hand up to you, “Look, things only work when everyone is on the same goddamn page. I can’t help that you and cousin came in and decided things didn’t work anymore. And I know things got a little heated the other night, but you left us high and dry tonight.”
You widened your eyes at him. Breathing out a shocked laugh. Flattening a hand against your chest and rolling your eyes. Shaking your head because you could not believe this putz had the nerve to say something like that to you. Squinting at him, “I left you high and dry?”
“Pretty fucking much,” Richie shrugged.
“Oh. That’s fucking rich. Coming from you, asshole—“
“Christ, Y/N! You’ve been around long enough to know that’s how we talk. We fight, we scream, we name call; but at the end of it we’re still family. Ain’t that what you always wanted? Feel like part of this fucking family? You’re Carmy’s little friend and all,” Richie gestured up and down.
Carmy’s little…
“Carmy’s little wannabe girlfriend,” Richie had shouted at you the other night, “News flash, dipshit: if he doesn’t want you by now, he isn’t gonna!”
Your palms were burning with frustration. Striking a nerve with that remark. The one he knew always made you so angry. Using it against you in this moment. Everyone around gasping at the comment. You looked to Carmy who had just entered the kitchen. Eyes wide, shock and confusion tugging his brows down. It only made it worse.
“Real good stuff, Richie. And who didn’t Mikey leave the restaurant to, huh? Guess he saw how your marriage worked out and knew better. Can’t even keep a fucking family together. What would you know about running a restaurant?” you pushed up on your toes for a moment, getting back in Richie’s face.
Remembering how your stomach dropped at his expression. Regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. But having to stand your ground. Richie’s jaw flexed as he swallowed. Silence filling the normally hectic space. His eyes darting between yours. Clearly holding his tongue from saying more.
Pointing a finger in your face, “You… You’re being a bitch right now.”
Disrespecting you further. You ground your teeth together. Fighting back the tears that pricked the corners of your eyes. All the years of complicated feelings bubbling in your throat. Lip quivering as you tried to keep a mean face. Nodding as you prepped to say more, but getting cold feet.
“Get the fuck out of my kitchen,” he had said steadily.
“No— NO! Don’t give me that shit,” you pointed with every word, “Don’t act like you and I have some unspoken agreement about being family. Showing up here as if I owe you an apology. You’re the one who told me not to come back. Remember that? Eh?”
“For fuck’s sake,” Richie rolled his eyes, “I told you to get out last night. Not to fucking jump ship!”
You chuckled in disbelief. Lip arching as you took a step closer to him, finger still pointed at his face. Sharp eyes meeting his, “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to say whatever the hell you want them show up here and act like I did something wrong, Jerimovich.”
“Ahhh, don’t ’Jerimovich’ me—“
“You knew better than saying that shit. Especially in front of everyone!” you clapped your hands together.
“Oh. Come on, Y/N! One fucking slip—“
“SLIP? Don’t you even dare. You know damn good and well how that makes me feel. How fucking angry I used to get when people in school would say that shit,” you barked in his face.
Richie got closer, practically pressing his nose to yours, “Stop playing victim, princess. You’re the one who had the nerve to bring my divorce into it. Let alone talking on Mikey’s name.”
Both of you huffing like bulls about to charge. The air between you running entirely too hot. Both your faces flushed.
“Why’re you acting like we’re strangers or something? Like you don’t even know me anymore?! I thought we were friends!” Richie spoke with his hands.
“I thought so too!” you held your arms out at your sides. Furrowing your eyebrows tightly together as your nostrils flared. Stepping back to rest against the door once more. Sniffling a little, “Thought things were different with us.”
Richie blinked. Things were different between you. Not like your relationship with Mikey or even Carmy. Richie always had a certain protective nature for you. Taking you under his wing as the only other none blood relative of the family. Something you had once bonded over when you were a young adult. Finding a comfort in him that no one else had ever given you. Hanging out with him and Mikey more once you were finally eighteen. And though he did not like to admit it, Richie was fond of you. More than he should have been. Laughing hard at some stupid joke in some movie you watched together. Sometimes letting you rest your body against his after a long day. Driving around late at night and just talking. It was all natural and easy. So, of course, he wanted to protect you. Needing to keep you on track when you teetered off the rails.
Carmy had went off to college just a few months prior. You were not taking it well. Not sure how to even function without your best friend, and things at your home had gotten bad. Your dad was drunk more often than not, and your mom could not take it anymore. Often taking his drunken frustrations out on you instead. It’s not like you could afford rent on your own, and you didn’t know anyone you could stay with.
Drinking helped you forget. The fake I.D. you had bought off some sleazy middle aged guy helped you get into bars and clubs. Drunk more nights than not. It helped you sleep. Helped you forget. It was the best distraction you had.
That night, you had been invited to a party by some older guys at a bar. Frat bros no doubt. Barely able to remember how you ended up at this house in the middle of no where. Surrounded by people you did not know. Music blaring so loud that you could not focus. A red solo cup that someone else had poured for you. Unable to taste it, really. Faces of strangers misshaping in your drunken haze. Some older girls stood around you chatting about life at their office. Mixture of groups confusing you further. Thinking this had to be a college party, but the way they talked about mundane work life made you question it. But the alcohol had you carefree. Bobbing your head to the over the top music. Eyes closed and smile beaming. Not sure what hour it was. Not sure where you were. Not caring either.
A firm hand on your shoulder had you spinning around before you could register the touch. Richie’s voice barely cut through the alcohol raging in your system, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hey! Richie!” you slurred, eyes lighting up when you finally realized it was him.
His eyebrows pinched the skin between them. Blue eyes wide and jaw hanging open. Shock written as clear as day across his face. Frustrated at you. Shrugging his arms to the side and shaking his head as he looked you up and down. Revealing clothes with ripped tights. Not enough layers to even begin protecting you from the cold air this time of year. Makeup smudged under your eyes. Cheeks glowing with alcohol.
“What the fuck is that? You’re not even old enough to have that in your hand,” Richie spoke through locked teeth, gesturing towards the cup in your hand. Aggressively snatching it from you and dropping it onto the ground. Earning a late protested ‘hey!’ once you saw the liquid pooling next to your feet.
You crossed your arms and shifted away from him, “Why do you care?”
Richie sighed. Pinching the top of his nose, “You know why. And if cousin isn’t here to keep you straight, looks like I’ve gotta be the fucking one. How come on!”
That was the moment something shifted inside you. Richie’s hand on your forearm burned. Seeing him in an entirely new light. Rushing you out the door while curses rolled from his tongue. Giving any guy with a wandering eye a look that could kill. Feeling your stomach warm up when his blue eyes looked over his shoulder to you. For so long, he had been Carmy’s older brother’s friend. A guy who was always around the same way you were. Tagging along with the family antics. But now his image was changing. Protective of you. Guarded you from every body you passed.
The cold air wafting against your skin sobered you momentarily. Squinting your eyes into a harsh blink. Shivering instantly. Furrowing your brow at Richie, “Where are we going?”
“My car,” he bluntly responded.
You pulled your arm from his grasp. Firmly planting both your feet into the cold ground outside. Breath clouding in front of your face as you huffed.
Richie turned, arms falling loosely at his sides with a smack. Shoulders dropping as he tilted his head, waiting for whatever stupid thing you were going to drunkenly rattle off. Losing patience as you both silently stared, “What is it? You’ve gotta be freezing, come on—“
Without hesitating, he pulled his leather jacket off his body. Wrapping it around you, his hand met the small of your back. Tingling along your skin. You pulled it tighter against your body as you continued forward. The heat in your face was blurring between alcohol and blush. It smelt so strongly of him. Cigarettes and some cologne. Natural musk. Your heart was pounding as every nerve in your body screamed at you. Glancing over to him. Had Richie always looked so handsome?
No— fuck! Even drunk clean off your ass you knew better. There was no point in thinking something like that. Richie was way older than you, plus there’s no way he would be interested in someone like you. Carmy’s little friend.
The wedged heels you wore were beginning to burn. Walking more than you had anticipated. Especially on your wobbly legs. Relieved when Richie’s old-beater blurred in your sight. Opening the door, he helped you in. Holding your hand in his as he guided you into the passenger seat. Keeping you steady until you flopped backward against the cracking leather. Pointing at you and instructing you to buckle yourself in. Nodding mindlessly as your eyes grew heavier by the second.
Jumping when he slammed his own door. Taking his place behind the wheel, throwing his own advice to the wind. Putting the key in the ignition, the car barked to life. Puffing out a cloud of black smoke. He’d been driving this thing since he was a teenager. The life inside the engine was wavering. Looking over to make sure you were set, but you had not moved an inch. Tilting side to side in your drunk state. It made him smile a little.
Beginning to head back towards home, the car ride was silent to begin with. Until you groaned and had to sit straight up. Blinking slow then widening your eyes. Fighting your natural urge to sleep.
“Don’t barf in my car,” Richie warned.
“‘m not,” you sighed, swallowing the large amount of spit that gathered in your mouth.
Richie’s arm was propped up on his window sill. Fingers pressed firmly into his temple rubbing circles, “Your folks are gonna kill you.”
“They’d have to notice I’m gone first,” you slurred. Breathing a deep breath through your nose. Eyes staying opened without struggle now. Streetlights reflecting across your face every few feet.
It made Richie’s heart sink. He knew things were not good for you at home. It was the reason you spent so much time away from there. But he did not know it had gotten that bad. To a point that your parents were not even noticing their only child. Their only daughter who had dropped out of college before half way through the first nine weeks and started drinking as a way to forget her failures.
“I don’t wanna go back there, Richie,” you sighed, looking over to him. His eyes still locked onto the road ahead. Anxious that something would happen on the drive home and it would be his fault. Chewing on the tip of his finger. Slowly, you leaned over the middle console. Resting your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his body, “Please… don’t make me.”
Richard let out a broken breath. Swallowing the lump overtaking his throat loudly. Eyes darting anxiously to the side as he thought. Shifting his hands on the wheel so he could drape one over your shoulders. Wanting to make you comfortable.
“O-Okay, fuck. You can come stay with me tonight,” Richie blinked as fast as he talked, “But no more running off to parties alone. I don’t wanna know what could’ve happened tonight. You hear me?”
You nodded. Listening intently to every word. Happy to be in his presence. Happy to be leaned against him. Feeling safe for the first time in months.
Richie clicked his teeth together, whispering, “Mikey’s gonna kill me.”
Your head hung low. Holding yourself tightly as you bit your tongue. Trying not to cry. The lack of sleep not helping. Dewey eyes peering up at him. Breaking his heart right where he stood. Hating when you cried, especially when it was his fault. No one ever got under his skin like you. Like you had his heart wrapped around a string. Tugging it whenever you pleased. Even after all these years. After all the different directions your lives went in. He was always coming back to you.
“Y-You know how I am,” Richie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You know better than anyone, okay?”
Which was arguable. Maybe not as much since Mikey was gone. But there had to be other people who knew him better.
You shook your head slowly. Tucking your chin further into your shoulder. Embarrassment burning into anger. Ready to continue the screaming match. Ready to kick him out of your apartment. Back into the cold with that damn attitude of his.
“You made me mad, alright? Shit’s been hard the last few months. And it was easy to take it out on you. That’s why I said what I said. I’ve got a short fucking fuse, you know that,” Richie over exaggerated with his hands. Taking a single step closer, but your harsh eyes stopped him. Shooting daggers clean through him. Reminding him of the expression you gave when he made an offhanded comment. Just with a new layer of disgust underneath it.
Richie remembered how his arm had snaked around your waist. One hand holding yours as to lead. Stabilizing you with every step you ascended, “You can sleep on the couch. I’ll get you a comforter and some pillows. Don’t go whining about being cold or nothing.”
Cold air cutting through him like a knife. Short sleeves the wrong choice of underwear. But atleast you stopped shivering with his jacket around you. Keeping his arm around you as he fumbled with the keys in his hand. Unlocking the door with a loud click. Kicking it open, having completely forgotten about the guest already passed out on his couch. Mikey’s unconscious body slumped across the cheap sofa he got from some guy. Stained and smelling of cigarettes, but he could not pass up on such a deal.
“Shit,” Richie mumbled. How could he have forgot that Mikey was here?! Taking up the only spare space he had to offer. Supposing his brain had went into over protective panic mode when he saw those boys circling you like sharks at the party. It was only a one bedroom, it’s not like there was some spare room he could cram you in. Closing his eyes and groaning lowly.
Beginning to guide you down the short hallway. Needing to talk what was happening out loud, “Change of plans.”
Clicking the dull yellow overhead light in the bathroom on, Richie guided your hands gently onto the stained countertop. Taking a step behind you and helping his jacket off your shoulders. Tossing it over his arm and looking at you in the mirror. Stress apparent on his expression. He pulled one of the drawers open and handed you a wash cloth, “Wash your face. I’ll try and find something for you to sleep in.”
Swiftly rushing across the hall into his wrecked bedroom. Piles of dirty and clean clothes merging together everywhere. Forgetting the last time he had done laundry. That damned laundromat had increased their prices. Running a hand through his hair as he scanned around the space. Begging for something he could offer you. Eyes reaching the small dresser he had tucked in the corner. Blue fabric hanging out of one of the half closed drawers. Finally. That shirt he won at one of the bars he went with Mikey to. Throwing a bullseye first try. Remembering how the room had erupted in applause and the blonde bartender had threw it at him. A dartboard in the center, oversized so that the bar didn’t have to keep extra sizing depending on who won. It sagged around his knees. Too big to wear out, but perfect for bed. Perfect for you.
When he came back to the bathroom, you had abandoned all layers besides your bra and panties. Rubbing your finger across your teeth with a glob of toothpaste that followed. Looking over to him with hooded eyes. His face bled red immediately. The matching lace set perfectly fitting your body was the last thing he expected to see tonight. Realizing how bad your clothes scattered across his bathroom floor would look to anyone else. Especially Mikey in the morning when he inevitably waddled into the singular bathroom to piss. Unable to stop himself from following the arch of your ass as you leaned down to rinse the toothpaste from your mouth. Muttering a curse as he strained to look at the ceiling. Offering out the barely worn t-shirt, “Put this on.”
Sliding it over your head, you lost your balance. Wobbling momentarily before catching yourself on the countertop. Giggling as you tried to keep quiet. Richie had jerked to catch you out of instinct. His hand held you at the elbow, concerned eyes peering at you. Body blocking the doorway, Richie hunched just enough to keep eye level with you. Standing together awkwardly, neither of you saying a word. This silence unlike previous ones. Tension webbing itself into it. His deep blue eyes making you blush.
“Guess I’m… uh, guess I’ll sleep in the tub?” you gestured behind you with your thumb.
Richie’s forehead wrinkled, “Fuck, no. You can, um, sleep in my bed.”
Shaking your head in disagreement, “Where will you sleep?”
“Floor’s fine,” Richie avoided the strong eye contact you attempted to hold. Stopping himself from making a decision he would live to regret. Even if everything in him begged to scoop you up in his arms and take you to bed. His eyes darted up, “You’ll have the whole thing to yourself.”
You flattened a hand against his shoulder. Shifting so that your weight pressed into him, hands loosely holding you. Richie closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Even when your lips pressed into his ear, “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight, Richie.”
A genuine plea. Not some forward move to get him to fuck you. Just a need to feel the touch of someone else. It made him sick. Shaking his head. Refusing to do this. Not with you. Not with Mikey in the other room. Not while you were drunk.
“Please,” it came out broken. Hiding your face in his neck when tears welled at your eyes. Grasping at his t-shirt with shaking hands.
Richie’s tongue wetted his lip. Taking a deep breath as he leaned his head back. Closing his eyes, “Okay.”
Walking together into his bedroom, Richie kept ahold of you. Pulling down the disheveled blanket to allow you to lay down. Draping it back across your body once you got comfortable against the pillow. The soft glow from the streetlights reflected in your eyes. Looking as beautiful as ever, Richie could have stared for hours. But that’s not what this was. So he rounded the bed and took his usual spot. Under the same covers as you. Bodies pressed tightly together on the full sized mattress. He turned his head to look at you, “No funny business. You hear me?”
You smiled. Closing whatever gap existed between you. Tossing your arm across his chest and snuggling into him. Closing your eyes and savoring this feeling. Whispering, “Thank you, Richie.”
His arm rested under you. Hand petting at your shoulder for just a moment before he rested his mouth to the top of your head. Nose nestled into your hair as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”
Probably the softest moment either of you could remember. Unsure the exact moment that had pivoted to change that dynamic. To make both of you cruel and hateful. How had you gone down such different paths? When things between you had been so obviously intertwined for so long. Feeling now as if nothing had been before. Only anger and disdain.
Fingernails digging into your arms attempted to calm you. Something you had done since you were a kid. Hugging yourself when things seemed uncertain. Making up for the lack of sympathy and compassion your parents had. It made you stubborn, no doubt. You squinted at him, “Why are you really here, Richie?”
“I came to get you back,” he shrugged, raising his eyebrows with his breathless words.
“Why? So we can fight more? Or so you could get Carmy off your back?” you let your head fall to the side. Earning a loud scoff from Richie. Who was pacing once more. Contorting his face as he thought of a comeback. Hands digging into his pockets as he stepped. His inability to tell you the truth hurt worse than the fight.
Pushing off the door, you headed into your kitchen. Ignoring the noise that escaped Richie when you walked past like he wasn’t even there. Bringing his thumb up to his lips and chewing at it. Tapping his foot as he stared down at the floor. Blocking him out as you grabbed a bottle of water from the case you had laying on your floor.
“Carmy didn’t send me,” he finally said, “Everyone’s counting on you. We need you. I-I—“ He stopped himself when your head whipped upward. Waiting for the next part. For that simple admission. The thing that would change all of this.
“I’m not coming back,” you stated under your breath.
Richie sighed again. Swallowing the lump in his throat. Running a hand down his face and cupping his jaw. Nodding with the thoughts running rampant behind his eyes. Beginning to step closer to you. Resting his hand on the short island countertop. Leaning his weight as he looked at you, “I need you to.”
It shocked you. Eyes widening at the simple phrase that you don’t know you’ve ever heard him utter. It had to pain him. The look on his face told you that. All you could do was shake your head, whispering ‘no’ like it was breathing.
Richie stepped in front of you. Grabbing both your shoulders in his large palms. Staring at you with those intense blue eyes, “Come on. Tell me what I gotta do. Whatever, I don’t care, just— just tell me what it’s gonna take.”
You stared up at him. Jaw clinched as you thought. Taking a deep breath as your eyes darted to the side. Rejoining his with a softening of your expression. Blinking rapidly as you spoke, “Tell me why you’re here.”
Confusion tugged at his expression. Denying the truth. Even when it was clawing its way from his ribcage and into the back of his throat. Practically strangling him. He hated this. Hated how soft you made him. How easy you let him inside. How right it felt to have his hands on you again. No matter how he tried to deny it, you were what he wanted.
His forehead pressed to yours. Tightening the grip he had on your shoulders. Working up the courage to admit, “I came to say sorry.”
Your heart pounded. Feeling your mouth run dry at that. Richie never apologized, even when he had offended some of the most important people. Tending to stand his ground for whatever thing he had used as an insult. Getting punched? Slapped? Cussed? Didn’t matter. Richie was always right.
His hand came up to cup your cheek. Flattening against the side of your face as his fingers ran through your hair. His tongue wetted his lip, “I hate when I care about people. Makes me want to push until they won’t come back. No matter how bad I get hurt. When you came back, it was like this cut reopened. And I had to make it stop. I… I’m sorry I said those things to you.”
“I’m sorry, Richie…” was all you could muster. While it meant the world, you were not sure you could jump back into the job. Wanting to help Carmy, but not worth sacrificing whatever thread held you and Richie’s complicated relationship together.
He released his hold on you and stepped back. Looking up at your ceiling and flattening the back of his hand to his forehead. Nostrils flaring as his adam’s apple bobbed.
“F-For all of it. I-I’m sorry that I brought up your divorce. I’m really sorry that I even mentioned Mikey. I should’ve just stayed away, a-and let you guys handle this. Instead of inserting myself where I don’t belong. As usual,” you cupped your hand around your mouth, feeling your throat start to burn with the words, “I just wanted to help. I guess I still thought that things could’ve been how they used to be. When we used to… I dunno. Feel like a family or something. I’m so fucking stupid.”
You hit your fist to your forehead. Tears finally passing the threshold. Burning down your flushed cheeks. Words overflowing like vomit from your lips, “Carmy will know some people. Someone can take my place. Help you guys out in a productive way. Better than I ever could, Rich. And you guys can go back to being a family without me dragging on your coattails. I’ll stop being ‘Carmy’s little’ whatever and I can… we can stop whatever this is—“
Richie rushed back over to you, both hands grasping the sides of your face. Lips taking yours between them. Taken completely off guard, but slowly melting into him. One of your hands joining his on your face. Sparks jolted every inch of your body. Feeling the thing deep inside you bloom. What you had been starving for air all these years. Finally getting its life breathed back into it.
“Shut up,” Richie breathed barely above a whisper, “Please. Just shut up and come back.”
“Richie,” you swallowed.
His hand tangled in your hair. Keeping you close to him. Noses bumping one another. Your hands flat against his chest. Lips not even an inch apart. Struggling to breathe. Air thick and hot between you.
“I can’t lose someone else,” Richie pressed his lips to yours again, “I just got you back.”
Hands traveling down your body, Richie squeezed your hips. Holding you tightly to him like you were going to run away. Stepping until your back met the countertop. Breathing lowly as his hooded eyes scanned you. Flattening his palms against the cold granite, caging you between them. Tilting his head before interlocking lips once more. You draped your arms over his shoulders. Letting him kiss you however he wanted. His taste overwhelmed your pallet. Scent filling your nostrils. Weight pressed into you. Entirely him.
Steadily growing more and more heated with every movement. Tongues tasting the other. Teeth bumping occasionally. One of your hands gripping the back of his head. His stabilizing against your spine. Both of you pretending to ignore the bulge that rose in his pants.
Lips began to venture down your throat. “You’re one of the most important people in my life,” kissing against your pulse, “I’ll make this up to you however I need to.”
And you could not help but smile. Still apologizing as his mouth left a trail on your skin. Even when his cock was already half-hard and his mind had ventured to far darker places than he usually let it, he was still apologizing. Mouth always running. Over explaining everything.
His lips felt like heaven against your neck. Flattening his tongue and sinking his teeth in. Certainly leaving some purple marks that you would have to explain. But how could you care about that when you felt so good.
Richie was slowly losing his composure. The hunger in him creeping its way out. Hands growing a little more greedy as he cupped your ass. Pulling your lower half to his. Grinding against you as he sloppily put his lips back to yours. Broken breaths rolling through him. Chasing this feeling like it would disappear any second now. Causing your legs to press together, needing to feel some relief for the ache between them.
One of your hands flattened against his lower stomach. Toying with the hem of his shirt until your fingers met his skin. Feeling the soft happy trail that led down to the band of his pants. Dipping your fingertips beneath to rim along the elastic. Meeting the hair that decorated along his pubic bone. Richie’s air caught in his throat. His own hands cupping the sides of your face once more. Guiding you to meet his eyes.
You exhaled as your head fell to the side. Biting your lip as your eyes darted around his face. Taking in the way his cheeks flushed red and his eyes laid heavy. Lips swollen from kissing you. Dying to get him out of his clothes. Taking his hands in yours, you pulled away from the counter. Stepping backwards slowly, trying to make sure you did not bump any furniture. He followed you with ease. Leading him across your apartment to the hall where your bedroom lied. Stopping in front of the partially opened door and looking up at him again.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Tongue wetted his lips as he looked into your room then back to you. Eyebrows raising ever so. Which made you smile right back at him. Blushing as you giggled. Leaning your head against the doorframe. One of his hands held onto your hip.
“This how you want me to make it up to you?” Richie’s voice had dropped an octave, smug tone adorning it.
You grabbed his jacket between both your hands, pulling him down to you. Furthering into your bedroom. Stopping beside your mattress. Smiling with a laugh, “Maybe.”
Richie shedded his jacket into the floor. It’s weight thumping loudly. Arms flexing against his tight t-shirt. Swiftly removing his shirt as well before taking you back in his hands. Kissing you once more. Tongue lapping against your pallet. Hands ghosting down your sides to pull your t-shirt over your head. Dropping it into the pile with his clothes. Taking a moment to stare at your breasts spilling over your bra.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” Richie said it with a low groan.
“Don’t flatter me, Jerimovich,” you quipped. Playing with him. A tease that came as natural as breathing between you.
“Not flattery when it’s true,” he cocked a brow, shaking his head as he spoke to emphasize his point. One hand cupping your breast. Thumbing at your nipple that had perked beneath the thin cup. A moan escaped the back of your throat. Small and barely noticeable. But it caught Richie’s attention. Reaching around to unclasp your bra, his breath fanned against your ear, “And don’t tell me what to do.”
You laughed. Bra sliding off your shoulders as Richie pulled back. Letting to drop in the floor, you flattened your hands to his bare chest. Exploring across the hair along it until your fingers met the cold metal around his necklace. Hooking a finger around it with a smile. Fluttering your lashes up at him. You pushed up so your lips could kiss against his throat. Nipping and sucking the skin. His head fell back with a low moan. Making sure you left a purple mark for tomorrow, it would only be fair. No one would ever put the two together. Even if the two of you had matching marks proclaiming your newfound relationship. After the events of the other night, it would be impossible to believe.
You sat back onto the mattress. Scooting yourself back to make room for him. Spreading your legs as an invitation. One Richie happily accepted. Crawling onto the soft covers and over you. Both of you slowly lowering until your head met a pillow. Lips meeting once more in a tender moment.
Richie’s hands met the band of your sleepwear. Tugging them and your underwear down in one swift pull. Throwing them behind him somewhere. Leaving you entirely nude before him. Vulnerable in a way you had never been with him. Feeling suddenly conscious of your body, you tucked your face into one of the pillows beside your head. Cheeks flushing when you could feel his strong gaze on you. He leaned down and placed a kiss against your clavicle. Kissing a path down to your breast, taking your nipple between his lips. Sucking and flicking it with his tongue. His other hand pinching the other one between tight fingers. Rolling it to match how his tongue moved. Your hands gripped the back of his head, moaning as your back arched. Forcing your chest closer to his mouth.
One hand traveled to your core. Calloused fingertips meeting your sensitive clit. Making your entire body jump, and Richie to pull off your breast. Looking up at you with a wicked grin. Laughing as he widened his eyes at you, “What? Those boys you’ve been with not know where it is?”
You scowled at him, “Fuck you. It’s just been a while.”
Stretching up to kiss at your jaw, Richie tried to hide how he chuckled at that. Utterly amused by everything your body had to offer. The strum of your heart racing at your pulse. How your eyes rolled back in your head. How red you were in the face right now. He was enthralled by it all.
“Yeah?” Richie slowly slid a finger into you, “Well, ole Richie will go nice and slow for you. How’s that sound, baby?”
Your mouth fell open. Eyes forcing themself shut as you threw your head back. Exhaling harshly, his name mixing itself into the sound. His finger pumped slowly into you. Curling and hitting the spot that made you see stars. His thumb pressing into your nub now. Adding fuel to the flames already raging on inside you.
Richie watched your every move. Admiring you as you slowly lost yourself to pleasure. Moaning and rolling your hips to meet his hand. His cock was throbbing between his legs. If you were like this from his finger alone, he could not wait to see how you acted with his cock inside. Chewing his lip for a moment until he could wait no longer.
Removing himself from your entrance, you whined at the loss of sensation. Eyes flying open to see him kicking off his pants. Giving you a full view of him in all his glory. Springing up to smack himself in the stomach, swollen and leaking. Red with his need. Absolutely living up to every fantasy you had ever had about him. Gawking now.
His eyes darted to your face. Catching you in the act, feeding his ego a bit. Smirking at you now, hovering his lanky body above you. Kissing from your cheek to your lips. His head fell to the side as he questioned you, “What’s that face about?”
You got a little flustered at his cocky attitude. Absolutely knowing the effect he was having on you. Making sure to use it to his advantage. Hands came to cup his face, “I just like looking at you, Rich.”
Lips interlocked once more. His cock gliding between your folds, making both of you grunt in satisfaction. More turned on than either of you had been in a long time. Richie pressed his lips to your ear, “Can I fuck you now, pretty girl?”
You sighed with a wide smile, “Please.”
Richie grasped himself at the base, lining up with your entrance. Taking his time to press the head between your folds. Shallowly thrusting to let your body adjust to him. Living for the view of your face contorting in ecstasy. Jaw hanging open as you panted. Sinking in inch by inch until your cores were pressed together. Dipping down so that your foreheads were flush. Heaving deep breaths.
There was a part of you that told you how perfect this was. How maybe this is how things were always supposed to be. And maybe if you and Richie had tried sooner, you’d both be living very different lives. This connection between you had always been different. Perhaps you should have explored it before now. But there was no changing the past. Only the choices you made going forward.
“I love you,” Richie breathed as quiet as he could. Words he swore he would never give another woman. Ones he never thought he could give someone again. Not after all the heartbreak and loss.
It made tears prick at your eyes. Shocked. Wanting to question him. Wanting to deny it. But it felt so right. You smiled, “I love you too, Richie.”
A wide smile taking over his face. Quickly kissing you once more to hide how flushed he got from that. Beginning to pull back before thrusting back into you. Finding a slow and steady rhythm that had you gripping tightly against his back. Nails scratching him. Never had you felt something so good in your life. He was perfect.
Richie’s hand traveled down your figure. Finding your clit once more and circling it with two fingers. Earning a rather loud moan from you. Hips arching at his touch. Giving him a new angle to fuck into you.
“Ri-Richie—“
“Yeah? Tell me, sweetheart.”
“It’s so— so good,” you whined, swallowing harshly.
He smirked, “I know. It’s like this pussy was made for me.”
Moaning in response. Feeling the way the familiar coil in your belly was tightening. Warmth blossoming along your skin a warning of how close you were. If he continued like this you would be unraveling any second now. Walls squeezing him tightly as your body prepared.
“You gonna cum?” his tone naturally teased.
All you could do was nod and call out his name. Words not forming in your mind. Only the feeling of his cock stretching you over and over. The pressure of his fingers sending you to your finish. Wrapping your arms tightly around him as your insides began contorting. White hot blooming all throughout you. Swearing you had never finished so hard.
Richie’s lip quivered at the sensation. Holding you close as his cock began to twitch. Barely thrusting forward a few times before he was spilling inside you. Coating your sensitive walls with his release. Taking your lips between his to hide the moan that ripped from the back of his throat. Grunting with each rope of cum.
As your bodies came down from their highs, the two of you stared at one another. Eyes blown wide with a carnal pleasure. Feeling closer than ever. Faces sharing in their glow. Panting in unison.
Richie rolled off you. Both of you wincing at the sensation of loss. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his side. Cuddling together in the post orgasm haze. Smiles written on both your faces. Lingering in the silence of the late hours.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” you whispered holding his eyes.
“Good,” he returned. Running a hand along the side of your head. Simply to feel you in his grasp. Loving how your body fit perfectly against his side as it always had. This intimacy between you entirely new, yet somehow familiar.
The early hours of morning were beginning to creep under your skin. Yawning then nuzzling your head against his shoulder. Sleepily kissing his cheek before tucking your face under his jaw. Bodies pressed together. Arms wrapped around one another. Lingering in the comfort. A promise of new beginnings.
“Goodnight, Richie,” you mumbled against his skin.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” punctuating it with a kiss.
~
Richie’s body woke him up bright and early. Still in your bed. Your body still snuggled against him. Warm and comfortable. Light from the window basking you both in its morning glow. He admired you. Even asleep, you were stunning.
Then he heard a little buzz from his clothes discarded on the floor. His phone still in the pocket of his jacket. Cursing softly under his breath as he looked into the floor. There was no way he could reach it from the bed. Besides, he did not want to disturb you with a phone call. So he ever so slowly began to remove himself from you. The chill of the room sending goosebumps across his skin, only making him more frustrated.
“Rich…” you mumbled still mostly asleep. Chasing after his body as he slipped from the blanket. Eyebrows furrowing in disappointment.
“I’ll be right back,” Richie pressed a kiss to your head, keeping his voice to a whisper, “Phone keeps going off. I’m gonna see what’s going on.”
You grunted in response. Instantly falling back asleep. Richie threw his pants and jacket on. Digging in the pocket for his phone as he walked out of your bedroom and to the front door. Pulling out the box of cigarettes with his phone. Placing one between his lips as he unlocked his screen.
It was Carmy.
Eight times. Calling him over and over like the little shit he was. It was probably something that could have waited until later, but Carmy did not have a relaxed bone in his body. He flicked the lighter he had tucked in the box and took a drawl of the cigarette before another call came through.
“Hey, cousin—“
“Look who decided to finally answer. Hey, yeah, Rich. I need you to go apologize to Y/N today. Last night was a fucking wash. I don’t care what you gotta do, just go say you’re sorry,” Carmy speedily said on the other line.
Richie smiled. Resting his head against the brick outside your apartment. Cigarette loosely dangling from his lips. Watching the way the sky shifted colors across the city. Feeling a warmth in his chest. Knowing you were just a door away. That you were probably still waiting for him to come back into bed.
“You hear me? I fucking mean it,” Carmy’s tone shifted when Richie did not answer.
“Yeah. Watch your attitude, kid. I’ll take care of it,” Richie muttered into the phone. Eyebrows knitting momentarily before his posture calmed.
“Thanks, cousin.”
~~~
[END]
// Thank you so much for reading! This is my first time writing for Richie, and I think I’m in love with this guy. I love how brash and sarcastic he is. What a dream boat. A very fun addition to my roster. As always, my inbox is always open. Requests are welcome. Likes and Reblogs are appreciated. I love you :) //
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
TherapyCatTalks: After a very long hiatus....I'm back! Hi everyone!!!
Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbott x Reader
Word Count: 2k
He’s always watching. Not the way other men watch, but in a way that feels like he’s cataloguing every piece of you — to keep, to protect, to never let go. And tonight, you find out what happens when you try to walk away.
The hospital hallway smells like antiseptic and burnt coffee. You’ve been running charts since sunrise and your legs feel like lead, but you stop cold when you see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you like he’s been waiting all night.
“Thought you clocked out an hour ago,” you say, forcing your voice into something casual.
Jack doesn’t answer. His gaze drifts down your scrubs, catching on the smear of blood at your hip, then back up to your face. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but they burn like they’re cutting through you.
“Why were you with him?” His voice is quiet, dangerous in a way that makes the hair on your arms stand up.
You blink, taken aback. “He’s a surgeon. We were going over charts.”
Jack pushes off the wall and takes a slow step toward you. The overhead lights catch the silver in his hair, making him look sharper, older, completely untouchable. “You don’t look at charts like that.”
Your pulse skips. “Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to remember his face,” he says. “Like you’re planning to say goodbye.”
You hate how easily he reads you. You’ve worked so hard to keep him at arm’s length, to stay professional, to convince yourself this is just a job. But he always seems to know when you’re lying. “Jack, this isn’t—”
“Don’t.” He closes the distance, his voice low. “Don’t do that thing where you push me away because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” you lie.
His hand catches your wrist, not harsh but unyielding, and his thumb slides over your pulse. “Yes, you are. Not of me. Of this.”
Your throat feels tight. “Jack, we can’t—”
“I don’t care if we can’t.” His words are soft but full of steel. “I’m done pretending I don’t notice you walking out every time I walk in. I’m done watching you bleed yourself dry for everyone but me.”
“I have to leave this hospital eventually,” you whisper. “I’m not staying here forever.”
“You’re not leaving me,” he says, closer now, his breath brushing your cheek. “Say it.”
You almost laugh, sharp and bitter. “That’s not how this works.”
“Say you’re not leaving. Say you’re mine.”
The hallway is silent except for your heart hammering in your ears. You want to tell him no. You want to remind him he’s your superior, that this is wrong, that he’s impossible and cold and dangerous. But you can’t, because the truth is you’ve been his from the first day he called you by your last name like it meant something.
Your silence is all the answer he needs. His mouth crushes against yours before you can take another breath, desperate and consuming. His hand slides up to the back of your neck, holding you still like he’s afraid you’ll disappear mid-kiss. You make a muffled sound of protest, but your fingers are already clutching his shirt.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “You don’t get to leave,” he murmurs, voice softer now, but no less commanding. “Not from me.”
You’re still shaking twenty minutes later in the break room, sitting at a plastic table with your head in your hands. The vending machine hums, filling the silence. You tell yourself to breathe, to forget the way his lips felt on yours, the way his voice went low like he could break you open if he wanted to.
You don’t hear him come in until his shadow swallows yours.
“This isn’t over,” Jack says quietly. No anger now, just certainty. “I’m not letting you walk away and pretend this didn’t happen.”
Your fingers tighten around your coffee cup. “You’re going to ruin me.”
He leans down, his lips barely brushing your ear. “No,” he whispers, “I’m going to save you. Whether you like it or not.”
The heat in his voice makes your stomach twist. You can still taste him on your lips, still feel the ghost of his thumb pressed into your pulse. You should walk out right now, put as much distance as possible between the two of you.
But when his hand skims your hip as he passes, a barely-there touch that feels like a claim, you stay rooted in place, breathless and betraying yourself.
being in a bad mood and jack abbot helping you by fucking it away.
the man's got you pinned at the edge of the bed and pounds into you from behind, rendering you gasping for air and all but helpless.
he had spotted it instantly–your bad feelings in the form of frown-twisted eyebrows... tense shoulders... short, clipped tone and even shorter fuse. whatever trepidations had wiggled their way onto you nerve, latching and eating at your mood, jack shoos them gone with ease.
both of your arms are pinned behind your back, held snug by jack as you groan with every pummel of his hips. stoke by stroke, it's all stripped away. the layers of anger peel themselves from you, leaving only the full feeling of his cock slicking itself deep inside your hole. stretching you with a sweet burn and nudging at the spot that steals your breath with no intentions of returning it.
the bed rages beneath you, clunking and shaking almost as bad as your wobbling legs. jack senses the balance you're loosing with a single scan, pausing balls deep inside you to shift you closer. he tugs you right up against him, front pressed into your back, arms wrapping tight to hold you steady.
"'ve got you, sweetheart," he promises, voice gravelly thanks to the way you flex around him even tighter like this. choking his cock and making it weep as it squelches along your walls. a kiss plants at your shoulder, lips remaining in a wet press against your skin as jack resumes his thrusts, your ass clapping against him in unhurried, filthy smacks. "just keep taking it, yeah? lemme keep makin' it better..."
when the speed starts to pick up again, it's almost too much–just what you need. you feel the thick of him all over, your entrance starting to cream and spasm, engulfing you inside an intense wave that makes you feel as if you're touching another universe.
jack plucks your peak from you with quicker but deep thrusts and a slew of praises.
there we go. there you are. bein' nice and sweet for me again, just how i like. needed someone to fuck you nice and deep, huh? take your mind off things...
after you come, you're putty. weeping and begging jack to keep fucking you because you need to come again and wanna feel him stuff you full of the load you know he's been holding back. he shushes your tears with soft coos, forcing his thrusts to reach a new, relentless depth inside you.
jack rambles lowly the entire way to the next finish, promising that he'll fix whatever it is every time. just come to him and he'll make it better. clear the clouds away and return the sun to your skies with an endless lasso and sturdy tug.
he finally releases his load with long groans, dragging another leaking orgasm out of you as he clings to your figure with a reassuring embrace.
the two of you collapse onto the bed, jack atop you in a warm smother as you struggle to remember why you were so upset in the first place...
