O, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
synopsis: just when the night begins to settle in the upper East Side, your sleep gets disrupted by a certain ruffian from the West Side who you've been told to steer clear from.
tags: riff lorton x fem!reader, reader gets called "girly girl", mention of a gun, fluff, riff being a loverboy, petnames (pretty, doll, girly girl)
notes: my 'upcoming' section on my intro post is so wrong lmao, i was supposed to get dennis whitaker headcanons out a while ago but this came to me and i HAD to get it done. divider credits: uzmacchiato
It's never really silent outside.
No, New York is never silent. Whether it be the constant sound of traffic that has become relaxing, or the sound of demolition companies knocking own old apartment buildings, or the sound of construction workers building new condos in replacement of the previously knocked down apartments, the city is never silent.
Tonight, however, it gets close. No sounds of construction or demolition - maybe the workers are on vacation, maybe it's a Holy day, or maybe they're on strike - but still the usual sound of traffic.
You're curled up in your bed, your eyes flicking over the words on the pages of the book in front of you. You can feel your eyes getting heavy, the words on the pages blurring together, forcing you to re-read the same page thrice.
You stop forcing your eyes awake and the book begins to slip from your grasp, your head falling against the pillows behind you. The sound of traffic begins to disappear...
You ignore the sound, maybe the construction work was back on, or maybe your parents were moving around in the next room.
You open your eyes with a groan, swinging your legs over the side of the bed when the noise eventually disturbs the early stages of your sleep.
You're just about to head out of your room to complain to your parents to stop making so much noise when something catches your eye on your balcony.
Four stones that definitely weren't there earlier.
You look at them from inside your room for a few seconds longer before you venture out onto the balcony, kicking the stones aside before taking a peek over the edge.
Riff Lorton. Leader of the Jets, No. 1 on Lieutenant Schrank's "Most Wanted" list, A "no good delinquent from the West Side" according to your father.
And the absolute light of your life.
RIff looks right back up at you with the same grin he always does, toothpick between his teeth as he grins. He holds the small, wooden pick between his fingers as he speaks.
"Was beginnin' to think you'd gone deaf, girly girl." Riff teases, popping the toothpick between his teeth once more as he looks up at you.
You're a few stories up but with the help of the fire escape stairs, he could be up in no time.
"My dad'll kill you if he sees you here, Riff." You warn him, your words no exaggeration.
The one time your father walked in on you sneaking Riff through your window, he was calling for your mother to grab his gun. Riff scrambled the hell out of there, leaving you with an extensive lecture on why you should "stick to your own pond", or some other stupid analogy.
Riff's grin only grew at your warning and he shrugged off the words.
"Daddy dearest don't scare me. Been away from you too long." Riff said as he was flicking away the toothpick and already beginning to climb the fire escape stairs.
You look behind you into your room, making sure your door is still closed. When you look back, Riff was already standing on your balcony.
You jump, not expecting him to reach you so quickly.
"You scared me." You tell him as you take a step closer, his hands reaching for your waist before you even take the first step. The touch has you looking back into your room.
Riff tuts and tugs at your waist, redirecting your attention to him.
"Stop it with that. I ain't afraid o' your dad." Riff tells you once more, that same grin sneaks onto his face again. "We're like that one pair that was in that show that was playin' at the community theatre."
You look at him, his words giving you no hint to what he was talking about.
Riff rolls his eyes at your confusion, tutting as his grin fades slightly.
"Ya'know, the one with the stupid way a' talkin', they're from different families, they die at the end."
A smile tugs at your lips when you piece together his words and realise what he's talking about.
"Romeo and Juliet?" He nods. "What do you - big, bad gang leader, Riff Lorton - now about Romeo and Juliet?" You tease, trying not to chuckle as you speak.
Riff groans at your teasing and squeezes your waist.
"Ice took his broad," You glare at the word, "girl. Took his girl to see it a few weeks back." Riff quickly corrects, tugging you a little closer as he spoke. “They’re like me an’ you, Romeo and Juliet. Ya’know, minus the death, and the stupid way a’ talkin’.”
You smile as he talks, just nodding along to his words as your hands rest on his shoulders, fingers tugging at the fabric of his shirt absentmindedly as you listen to him.
“Whatever, ya’know what I mean.” Riff says, shaking his head before placing a peck to your lips. “You gonna ever invite me in, or am I sleepin’ on your balcony tonight?”
You roll your eyes at his words, your smile ever present as you reach to take his hand and lead him back into your room.
You let go of Riff’s hand to close the balcony door after he enters. Riff looks around your room as if it’s the first time ever being inside.
No matter how many times he’s seen your room, he can’t get over how different your room is to his whole apartment, how much better your room is.
There’s no leaky pipes causing damp and peeling wallpaper, you have actual working heating so you don’t freeze in the winter, in the same fashion you have a real AC so you don’t cook in the summer. The floorboards aren’t creaky, the bed isn’t springy, no windows are cracked and your locks actually work.
You walk up behind Riff, standing on your tiptoes behind him to place your chin against his shoulder, tilting your head to look at him.
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” You ask, watching as his eyes dart around the room before they land on you.
Riff huffs, and reaches behind him to grab your hand, bringing you in front of him now. He smiles down at you, not the cocky smirk he sports daily around the Jets, but a real genuine, almost soft smile.
"You. How I managed to get a rich, upper east br- girl to settle for lil old me." His smirk returns. "And how pissed daddy dearest is gonna be when he sees me in the morning."
You roll your eyes at his words. Up close, you see a few injuries that look fairly recent. A split lip, a fading black eye, a dark red stain on the collar of his shirt that looks like dried blood.
You don't question it, not anymore.
Not since the first night you cleaned up his wounds and he explained why he looked like he'd been dragged back from Hell by the ankle. Not since the night you and him were walking the streets after sunset and he was ambushed by a few members of the Sharks.
It's better not to ask. Better not to know.
Riff still notices the concern in your eyes, however, and he tuts, swiping his thumb down the crease between your brows.
"C'mon, 'nough of that." He tutted, looking down into your eyes, those damn eyes that always seemed to stun him for a few seconds, those damn eyes that are always filled with worry at the sight of slightest cut. "I've been in worse conditions. I'm invincible, y'know that."
Riff leans down to press a kiss to your lips. A soft kiss, one you would never expect from a big, bad gang leader like him. A kiss of reassurance, of calming, of reminding that right now, he's here, and he isn't leaving.
Of course, the moment is ruined by him pulling away and pinching your cheek, because God forbid Riff Lorton shows vulnerability for more than thirty seconds.
You whack his hand away and he chuckles, stretching out his back as he let out an over exaggerated yawn.
"Now, c'mon, doll, I just climbed up a fire escape for you, you bring me inside and have me stand at the end of your incredibly soft, incredibly large bed, and I ain't asleep? You're killin' me!" He groaned as he unceremoniously threw himself against your matress.
You roll your eyes again and walk to the edge of your bed, sitting down on your side.
"Y'know, I'm gonna start thinking you're using me for my bed and the apartment." You tease, reaching out to shove his shoulder.
Riff hums as he toes off his shoes, kicking them off and letting them land somewhere in your room.
"Hm, you'd be right about that, girly-girl." Riff teased right back, looking at you with that damn smirk again before he's stripping off his shirt and tossing it to the floor.
You slide under the covers as he unbuckles his belt and tugs off his jeans, letting both join his shirt in a heap beside your bed.
"I'm gonna have to buy you pyjamas for whenever you decide to sneak in next." You say as Riff joins you under the covers, his hands immediately seeking out your hips.
"Why? Nothin' wrong with what I sleep in." Riff retorts, pulling you against him when he settles against the mattress. "Besides, 's easy access." He teases with a wink and a playful bite to your neck.
You scoff and shake your head, shoving him away. "You're disgusting."
He laughs, shrugging his shoulders as he moves back beside you. "You love it." He says with a smile as he settles back against the mattress, tugging you closer so that you lay your head against his chest. His arm wraps around you like it's second nature.
"You'll still be here in the morning?" You ask, a yawn interrupting you halfway through your sentence.
Riff huffs, his arm moving a little more securely against you. "Only way I'm leaving is if daddy dearest sticks to his promise and barges in with his beloved shotgun." Riff tells you, tilting his head downwards to press a kiss against your head amidst your hair.
You smile, allowing your eyes to close. "Goodnight." You sigh softly.
Riff allows himself to smile at your soft, singular word, his fingers gently tracing up and down your arm, something he does every night he's with you ever since you told him it helps you sleep. "Yeah, g'night, pretty girl." He replies, his own voice as soft as he could manage, not wanting to disturb your light slumber.
Riff watches you sleep for a few minutes, the soft moonlight peeking through the window where the curtain isn't fully closed illuminating your figure. He always falls asleep after you, he makes sure of it.
Partly because he's scared to let his guard down, especially around you. He would never forgive himself if those rotten Sharks did something to you to get to him. But partly because he can't believe this is real. That you chose him, that you're beside him.
After those few minutes, when he's looked around the room and made sure there were no threats hiding in the darkness and he's come to terms with the fact you're real and you're really beside him, he relaxes beside you, his fingers slowly stilling against your arm.
And if your father does storm in tomorrow morning, sees Riff's clothes on the floor, presumes Riff was only there for one thing and in turn reaches for his gun? Riff would argue that this, being beside you, even as you're both asleep, was 100% worth it. And probably one of the best ways to go.
