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@therapycat21
TherapyCat21 Ultimate Masterlist
Last Updated: 05/29/2025
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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
Extras:
Reader Aesthetic Travis Aesthetic Couple Aesthetic
Blurb 1 Blurb 2 Blurb 3 Blurb 4 Blurb 5
One Shots: ARN SERIES
The Grammys On Set SuperBowl The Positions Tour
One Shots: Not ARN
Oh Baby Call Her Daddy?
Defensive (Series)-- ONGOING 18+
Prologue Cocky Man Pt.1 Cocky Man Pt.2 Sassy Man Hibiscus Iced Coffee It's hard being casual Supernova
One Shots: NONE YET!
Series: NONE YET!
One Shots:
Victoria Secret Perfume Eternal Sunshine
His True Obsession (Series)-- ON GOING! 18+
00 Act One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four(18+) Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine
One Shots:
A True Story Noblewoman
His One (Series)-- 18+
Michael Robinavitch x OFC
00 7:00 AM 8:00 AM 9:00 AM 10:00 AM 11:00 AM 12:00 PM 1:00 PM 2:00 PM 3:00 PM 4:00 PM 5:00 PM 6:00 PM 7:00 PM 8:00 PM 9:00 PM
When it happend to me (Series)-- 18+
Jack Abbot x Reader
You Don't Get To Leave
Cheater Cheater (Series) 18+ FINISHED!
Synopsis Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10
Requests are open!!
I need some ideas for a Sammy Bryant fic? Any takers?
You Know Just How to Get to Me
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 :) //
{tags}
@megangovier ~ @person-005 ~ @hargrovehoe ~ @its-a-show-stoppin-number ~
I think about Richie Jerimovich at least 3 times every day, which I think is a perfectly normal amount.
We need more Richie jerimovich stories please, I’m gonna write one too but I need more stories 🤣🤣🤣😭😭😭❤️❤️
This should not do things to me...but it does 🥵
Just put me in horny jail
Am I the only one who starts to read a fic and can tell right away it’s chat gpt or ai? I feel like for some that it’s so obvious 👀👀👀👀
Okay I got the poll results for the last one but here’s a new one.
Write for Pablo Schreiber characters?
Yes
No
Would anyone read a Sammy Bryant fic that follows the entire show? Let me know ❤️
Yes or no
Yes
No
Pablo schreiber doesn’t get enough attention, that man fine!!! Especially in den of thieves
You Don't Get To Leave
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.
You already know you’re not going anywhere.
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...
© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚
more.
warning: smut! pwp, p in v sex, dry humping, age gap (think 25 and 35), mentions of gang activity, this is pre-divorce but post-separation sammy so kinda cheating kinda not (tammy cheated first so fuck her!), reader is horny and seduces sammy, similar to the tanisha storyline from season one but rewritten with an adult reader in mind, etc etc etc.
summary: after testifying against your stalkerish ex to the police, you were not expecting to get out of there with a crush on the guy in charge of your assignment
word count: 7.1k
note: just finished season one and i was correct in my assessment — i am in fact down horrendously bad for sammy bryant. ps. sammy pic credit to @mangonom!! (pss. not proofread!!)
➽──────────────────❥
you couldn't help but let out a sigh of frustration at the your current situation.
when you first started dating that idiot you met at some stupid party right by downtown la, you never expected that he'd land you in a police station within just a few weeks of knowing him — even when you'd already ended things.
it'd been an entire hour since you'd been sitting there, eyes becoming droopy at the sheer boredom of sitting around and waiting for you to come see if you'd be willing to talk.
you weren't an idiot. you knew that talking to the police was possibly the worst thing you could do. admittedly, you had been an idiot to not realize the guy you'd dated for three weeks a month ago was, in fact, affiliated with a gang, but at least you were smart enough to know not to be a snitch. even though you didn't give a flaming shit what happened to your ex, it simply wasn't worth retaliation.
but then detective bryant walked in.
as embarrassed as you were to admit attraction to what you and your friends would've deemed a pig, sammy bryant was just different from the rest.
he'd done a double take as soon as he walked into the waiting area, finding you sitting there with boredom in your expression. his eyes raked up and down you form, straightening up his posture as he walked in your direction. visibly swallowing, he readjusted his tie, offering you an awkward smile as he continued to walk towards you.
his slight awkward, yet determined demeanor charmed you within seconds. his politeness towards you also helped his case.
sammy was sweet in his attempts at encouraging you to testify for a case they were working on. he had explained that his team was hoping to solve a murder case they were sure had been done at the hands of the gang your ex belonged to. he stumbled over his words once or twice, chuckling in embarrassment as you looked at him with obvious interest in your eyes. he seemed a little older than you, but there was no ring on that finger, so you figured he was fair game.
he huffed, scoffing any time his questions landed back to your former relationship with your ex. he wasnt shy in expressing disbelief at you dating what he called a 'useless delinquent,' claiming that a pretty girl such as yourself deserved better. this earned him a look from his partner, who was mostly a silent participant, but all you could do was giggle and twirl your hair.
so, yeah. maybe you'd let yourself fall for a guy you'd just met. a cop, no less. and maybe you'd even put your life at risk by testifying against a fucking gang member. but you'd gotten sammy's number by the end of it and a promise that he'd keep you safe, so perhaps it was a win after all.
➽──────────────────❥
you hadn't heard anything back from the police department since you left their office three days ago. you also hadn't found any good enough reason to contact sammy in those three days.
he'd said you should call if you found yourself in any danger, very insistent in that piece of advice. you heard him arguing with someone you assumed to be his supervisor, making a case that you needed to be put in some sort of witness protection in case something were to come up. it was touching how adamant he seemed about it. you could tell he was a good guy at heart.
that was when he gave you his card, gulping at the flirtatious smile on your lips when you gladly accepted it and giving you strict direction to have no reservations in calling him if you were ever in any danger.
it unfortunately didn't go past three days before you found yourself calling him as your body shook with fear.
you didn't live in a particularly dangerous part of town, but it also wasn't the type of place you'd be comfortable going on a nighttime walk in. still, you were never expecting anything news worthy to go down in your neighborhood.
when the gunshots began, you thought it must've just been a car backfiring, maybe some dumb teenagers lighting some poppers out on the street. it took your lamp quite literally exploding to your left for you to drop down to the ground in fear, crawling your way behind your kitchen counter and pulling out your phone, sammy's number already saved in your contacts and ready for dial.
"s-sammy?"
"yeah. who's this?" he didn't quite register the fear in your voice at first, his voice slightly muffled as if he were chewing on something.
speaking at that moment was a difficult task. you were hyperventilating, shaking to the point where gripping the phone felt almost impossible. you couldn't think of five objects you saw, four you heard, whatever the fuck the rest was. all you could think about was the shots fired and the possibility of someone stepping through the door to finish the job.
not realizing you'd been panting into the phone for a full minute, sammy's voice interrupted your thoughts.
it was a call for your name. a question, checking if it was you on the other side of the line.
"y-yes. sammy? i need- they're here. i'm scared, sammy." you cried.
his tone shifted immediately. you could hear commotion from his end. the picking up of things, some steps, a car door slamming shut, some unintelligible yelling.
he was on his way.
"stay right there, okay, sweetheart? i'm coming to get you. stay on the line with me, okay?"
his words were rapid, anxious, but they still offered you the comfort you needed at that moment. knowing he was willing to drop everything to come to you was enough to get your breathing back to a manageable capacity.
you tried to respond, failing at getting anything other than a whimper out of you.
"you don't gotta speak, baby. just know i'm here. keep your head down. hide if you can. i'm breaking all sorts of traffic laws to get there as soon as i can."
that make an attempt of a chuckle leave your body. he was charming even in crisis.
and he was true to his word. within five minutes you could hear the loud voices of him and his partner as they crossed the threshold of your household. their loud steps and the clanking of their uniforms unnerved you despite knowing they were there to protect you. even as they called for you, you remained hidden behind the counter, body unwilling to move.
sammy called your name a few times before finally heading into your kitchen and rounding the counter, eyes widening when he found you with your legs crammed into your arms in a fetal position. you were still shaking, tears dampening your cheeks.
"oh, baby." he murmured as he knelt to your height. "it's okay. we're gonna get you some help, yeah?"
you nodded, a small smile forming on your lips when he lowered his gaze to yours. he helped you up, holding onto you so your shaky legs wouldn't give out.
walking over to his partner, he received the 'all clear' signal, assuring there was no longer a threat in your home despite the intense damages from the shootout. more people had showed up within a few minutes. a few more cops and some suits, along with a few spectators from your neighborhood. but throughout it all, sammy stayed with you, sat with you at the sidewalk with an arm wrapped around your shoulder.
at spotting a certain lady, the same he'd been arguing with about your witness protection status, he got up, marching her way. you objected at first, still terrified and liking his comforting presence way too much, but he reassured you with a few shh's and a pat to your hair.
they were a few steps away, so you couldn't actually hear the conversation. but it looked intense. charlie was screaming, face distorted in anger as he wagged his finger at her, arms moving around, expressing his frustration.
his partner took a seat next to you then, watching sammy's argument along with you for a bit before breaking the silence.
"he's good, sammy, y'know? he's a good cop. he's gonna take care of you." he reassured.
"yeah?"
he nodded, easy, casual, "he's been worrying about you ever since you left the station. tried to get them to give you clearance for witness protection. almost got written up over it."
that surprised you.
you'd only known the man for a few days. had only spent a total of two hours with him in the interrogation room. yet he had been fighting for your protection this whole time. it made your skin shiver.
it wasn't even ten minutes that sammy spent arguing with that lady before throwing his arms up in defeat, stomping away from her the way he had towards her. he shook his head, rubbing at his face in frustration before making his way towards you and his partner still sitting on the sidewalk.
"she says she won't clear her. no fucking funds or whatever the fuck." he huffed to ben, you believed.
"no? so what are you gonna do?"
sammy turned to you, determined.
"get up, sweetheart. i'm taking you home with me."
➽──────────────────❥
"sorry about the mess, i just moved in." sammy apologizes as he picks up odd items around his apartment, throwing them out of the way as he shows you around. "it's kind of like my bachelor pad, y'know? i, uh, i don't have an extra bed, but the couch fold out." his tone was forcefully enthusiastic.
you weren't exactly excited about sleeping on a couch, but hearing some sort of confirmation that he was single lifted up your spirits. that, and the fact that you'd be staying in detective bryant's apartment rather than in some dingy motel. it was unsure how long you'd be here, but you hoped long enough to get some of those sick fantasies about the detective out of your mind.
"i like it. it's tidier than most guy's." it wasn't necessarily the truth, but you were just happy to be there (with all things considered, at least).
you were still slightly in shock, but sammy had done a great job in comforting you on the ride here. his hand hadn't left your own the entire time, calloused thumb caressing the back of your palm as your hand rested on your thigh. he was touchier than you'd expect a cop to be, but you weren't complaining. you hoped his touchiness hinted towards something more.
"really? well, at least i'm not a total mess." he chuckled. "anyway, would you like something to eat, drink? all i have is, uhhh, water and beer." he grimaced at his options. "and some leftover pizza. sorry." he scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. "it's been a while since i've had to worry about picking up groceries."
you tilted your head in question, putting down your overnight bag on the couch — he'd promised he would take you home tomorrow to pick up some more of your things, enough to stay for an undecided amount of time.
"yeah. just got a divorce. well, uhm, still in the process of it, but y'know." he continued.
you offered him a sympathetic pout, hand landing on his arm to rub it comfortingly. "oh, i'm sorry, sammy. i'm sure having to house me isn't really gonna help things. i could always just get a hotel or-"
"no! no, don't worry about that. it's all said and done anyway." he mumbled that last part, clapping his hands in front of him to signify a change in subject. "you can take a shower if you want. i'll have the couch set up for you when you're done."
"thank you, detective. really."
"sammy. you can just call me sammy."
"thank you, sammy."
you were pretty sure he blushed at that, but it was a little too dark in his apartment for you to tell. still, you left him there, heading towards the direction in which he'd pointed out the shower to be when you first arrived.
getting naked in his apartment proved more exciting in theory than in actuality. sure, you got to use his toiletries, meaning you ended up smelling like him, and maybe you nuzzled into his towel a little more than a normal person would, but it was pretty uneventful past that. still, maybe he had some imaginative thoughts about having a younger girl naked in his apartment (at least you very much hoped so).
once you were done, you decided to be a little mean. maybe you forgot your pajamas in the living room on accident. maybe it was on purpose. fortunately, this was not something you'd have to testify on.
"sammy!" you called out from inside the shower, smiling to yourself in satisfaction at him having a glass shower rather than a curtained one. this fact would serve its intended purpose.
"y-yeah?" he yelled out from outside, voice sounding louder by the end of the syllable once he made his way to the other side of the bathroom door.
"i left my pj's outside. do you think you could bring them in for me?" you yelled out. "oh, and a towel?" okay, maybe too obvious.
you could practically hear him hesitate, picture him open and close his mouth like a fish, not knowing how to answer. it took him a few silent seconds before actually verbalizing any sort of response.
"yeah, sure. i'll- i'll be right there!" he yelled back, steps trailing away from the door before trailing back after a few moments.
a knock was heard about a minute later, a hesitant one, as if you were the one who owned this apartment and not him.
"can i come in?" he called out. "i can close my eyes if you want me to. or, uhm, i could-"
"you can come in, sammy."
the image as he came in was nothing but comical.
with a hand held up to his eyes in a similar fashion to shield oneself from the sun, sammy took large, yet hesitant steps into the room. he reached out to the counter, practically throwing the clothes and towel on its surface.
"there. i- can you reach them?" he couldn't tell, as his eyes were facing towards the door, never once in your direction.
"can't really reach the towel. can you come closer?" it was hard not to giggle childishly as you said it. you were certain you could reach the towel if you tried hard enough.
he sighed, taking a few more steps before taking a quick look in your direction to make sure he was close enough. he groaned audibly before shutting his eyes shut.
"i'm so sorry. i swear i didn't see anything, i-"
you actually giggled this time.
"it's fine, sammy. i'm just pulling your leg. you can just drop the towel on the floor. i'll be fine from here."
he chuckled along with you, shaking his head to himself.
"you're going to make your stay really hard for me, aren't you?"
"goodbye, sammy. thank you for the towel." you dragged the 'goodbye', hoping the flirtation in your tone was obvious.
he closed the door with a huff, leaving you there, naked, wet, and embarrassingly enough, a little turned on. he was a fucking gentleman, you couldn't help if you found him attractive on that regard (other than all other physical attributes that drew you to him in the first place).
➽──────────────────❥
"oh, sammy, you didn't have to do all this."
walking out of the restroom, hair damp and now pajama-clad, you came across sammy sitting on the couch, heated up slice of pizza in his hand and a few snacks set up on the coffee table in front of him. the bed was already set up, with a few throw pillows and a fuzzy blanket ready for you. there was also a lamp that hadn't been there before, its warm light adding just enough vibrance to the room to not be overwhelming. the tv was on, playing some documentary in the background, adding a comforting ambience to the room. on top of it all, he had tidied up quite a bit, organizing your stuff on a table nearby while you were showering.
he shook his head, mouthful, "nonsense. want you to feel comfortable." he patted the spot next to him on the folded-out mattress, head gesturing at a plated slice of pizza in front of him. "you've been through a lot today. i want you to feel safe here."
you sat next to him, a soft smile on your face. "you're a nice man, sammy. anyone ever tell you that before?"
he scoffed. "tell that to my wife." his eyes rolled ironically, reaching over for a beer and handing you one of your own without a single word.
you took it, chuckling to yourself before setting the beer aside. you wanted completely lucid for the plans you had for tonight.
"you guys still together?"
it was a nosy question, but you needed confirmation before doing anything. you weren't a homewrecker, specially not considering you spotted a few pictures of his baby around the house — none of his supposed ex, though.
he shrugged, scoffing to himself. "nah. i've moved on. just a bunch of paperwork left now, i guess." he shook his head afterwards, hand making a dismissing gesture. "god, sorry. you didn't come here to listen to me complain about my ex-wife. you have way more things to worry about."
scooting a little closer, you closed some more distance between you, finding his eyes.
"don't worry about it, sammy. i'm staying here at least for the next few days, we might as well get to know each other, right?"
he nodded contemplatively. he gestured towards your beer, calling attention to it. "you don't drink?"
"no, yeah, i do. just wanted to stay sober for tonight. i was thinking we could just hang out for a while. unless you need to get up early?"
sammy shook his head, leaning further into the couch to signify his willingness to stay up with you for a while. "i'll stay up. you still shaken up?"
"not anymore. just like the company."
you smiled at him, with him offering you a shy smile in return.
it was easy to see that he was conflicted about your behavior. you weren't being exactly subtle about your interest. perhaps not straight up direct, but the hints of interest were there. him having conflicted feelings about returning your interest made sense to you.
so nothing happened that night — as hard as it was to not make a move on him. you decided to leave your attempts there, to simply spend the next few hours talking to him, grateful that such a nice man was willing to take you in.
sure, it was hard to drive your eyes away from the yummy muscle littering his arms, or from the constellation of freckles found all over his face, but you didn't want to scare him away or have him think you were some sort of sexual deviant (though, for him, you would gladly take that title).
when you went to sleep, he tucked you in, either incredibly oblivious as to the effect his domesticity had on you, or simply returning your affections in the most subtle way he could think of. you braved a kiss to his cheek as a form of goodnight, smiling when he visibly froze at the act, returning a pat on your shoulder instead.
the following day, you woke up to the coziness sammy had set up for you in the living room. you were still bundled up in the comfortable blanket, receiving some warm light from the lamp he'd left on nearby. on the table in front of you was a note from sammy, reading off the time in which he'd get back from work, with his credit card to the side and instructions for you to order some takeout.
you spent the entire day in his apartment, nosy as ever as you looked over anything of interest you could find. most of the day, however, was spent watching boring reruns on tv and waiting for sammy to get back. you took a chance to cook some quick meal and clean up as much as you could, wanting to repay him in any way that you could. there was now an overload of food, with the meal and the takeout combined, but you knew sammy would appreciate it.
when he came back, you welcomed him with an embarrassing amount of giddiness. you felt like a puppy awaiting for the return of its owner, wagging your tail when the man walked through the door.
every other day went more or less like this. you were off work for the time being, being instructed to stay indoors at all times unless sammy happened to be home. it was only until they caught the guys who had shot up your house. this was apparently an off-budget form of witness protection. no budget for actual protection, sammy had communicated to you with a disappointed tone of voice.
except you were anything but disappointed.
sure, your current living situation wasn't exactly conventional, but sammy made things as comfortable for you as possible. he had taken it upon himself to buy you any of your usual toiletries, your favorite foods, had even emptied a chunk of his closet for you to use. the place was too big for sammy, he'd said. claimed it was probably made for a couple rather than for a single guy. you tried your best not to read into that comment, but your delusions could not be deterred.
the two of you had become quite friendly with one another. your flirting never faltered, occasionally inspiring some flirting of his own. for the most part, you treated each other as roommates, friends, maybe something unlabeled.
he'd opened up to you about his divorce. not sad, not regretful, just nostalgic. his memories of his marriage were fuzzy, telling you it was a strange relationship, one mostly out of convenience, that it was the next logical step in his life at the time. you comforted him when you could, joked about it when it seemed sensible. the two of you grew close, not as much as you would've liked, but you knew you'd get there.
➽──────────────────❥
today was different from most days.
sammy was later than usual, now multiple hours late from work. he hadn't let you know of any overtime he was planning to take on, so you knew that this was most likely unplanned — and probably inconvenient for the poor man.
when he came home, you could hear him from your spot at the couch. you could hear the stomping of his feet, the way in which he threw off his shoes, how he slammed his keys on the kitchen table, the slam of the door, the curses under his breath. it was all leading to the conclusion of a very frustrating day for sammy. it made you feel guilty for even staying at his house. you knew he enjoyed your company, but perhaps you were also an inconvenience to him. the last thing you wanted was to make his day worse, to get in the way of him having some peace and quiet after a shitty day.
still on the couch, you decided to feign slumber. it was better for you to get out of his way, to give him one less thing to worry about.
you could hear the dragging of his feet as he stepped into the living room area of his house, suddenly making much less noise as he walked in your direction. you laid there, assuming he'd just walk past you and into his bedroom for a shower in his connecting restroom.
but then he stopped, far closer than expected. the sound of his footsteps halted near you. you held your breath, hoping not to give yourself away. that's when you felt body heat closing in, a hand softly patting your hair and the slight pressure of his lips on your cheek, so light it was almost impossible to perceive.
"missed you today. was hoping you'd be awake" he mumbled under his breath before walking out of the room.
within moments, you could hear the shower running, the sudden lack of his presence in the room.
you sat up, now feeling inadequate. had you known he needed some sort of comfort, you would've sat there waiting for him, offered him anything he needed.
getting up, you walked over to his room as quietly as you could. it was unlikely that he'd head back out after the long day he'd had, so you decided you'd meet him halfway.
you sat on his bed, a little awkward, a little uncomfortable. maybe this was too forward, waiting on his bed while he showered, donning only some oversized shirt and panties underneath.
he was a nice guy. if he really wasn't interested he'd let you down easy, right?
there wasn't much time to think it over. his shower ran shorter than usual, the sound of the water hitting the tiles dying off far quicker than previous times. he must've been exhausted. probably one of those days on watch rather than patrolling. your heart stilled, nerves increasing and skin rising in goosebumps.
he didn't notice you at first, but, god, did you notice him.
wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he used a smaller towel to dry his hair, effectively covering his eyesight enough to not take notice of you as he walked towards his bed.
he was a vision, with a backdrop full of steam being created by his shower. his curly hair peeked from the towel he used to dry at his hair, looking darker in hue due to its dampness. what took the cake, though, was his body.
the hard muscle you'd fantasized about for weeks was out in the open. the freckled skin, slightly tanned at the forearms, paling at the middle. the same skin you got a peek of any time he'd lift his arms for a well-needed stretch. you wanted your hands all over it, to swallow him hole, drag him to bed and keep him there.
your mind landed in the gutter upon the first sight.
a shrieked "shit!" was not the reaction you'd want from a man finding you waiting for him in bed, but you understood that announcing your presence would've been preferable to him.
"sorry."
"no, don't apologize. just, uh, wasn't expecting you there. thought you were sleeping."
he walked over to you, sitting next to you on the bed, skin still slightly damp.
you were resting your weight on your knees, hands laying on your thighs and body facing his.
"rough day?"
he chuckled humorlessly, "yeah. you could say that."
you leaned closer, head close enough to his shoulder you could've comfortably rested it there if you'd so wished.
"wanna talk about it?"
he turned to you then, eyebrow lifting in question.
"y'know. that's the first time i come home to someone asking me that."
a pout made its way onto your lips. you didn't know much about tammy, but damn her.
"well, i'm asking."
you took this chance to crawl onto the fame of the bed, leaning against it before patting the space next to you, asking him to sit next to you.
"i'm naked under this." he said, dumbly. no shit.
you rolled your eyes. "so am i."
you were still on laying your weight on your knees, meaning that one wrong move and sammy would get a perfect view of the sad excuse for panties you had underneath. similarly, if he played his cards wrong, his towel could move in just the right direction to give you a peek at his goods.
those were odds you liked.
and sammy seemed to like them just as much, shrugging at your challenging comment and sitting next to you at the head of the bed.
"you've been making this very hard for me, kid." there was amusement in his eyes.
"how hard?" you leaned closer, teasing.
"is everything out of your mouth an innuendo?" he chuckled, bumping his shoulder with yours.
"don't know what you're talking about, officer. i think you just got a dirty mind."
"it's dirty, alright."
you shared a laugh, the sound faltering after a few moments, leaving you with a comforting silence.
"so. day. bad?"
"yeah. day bad." he huffed, hand running down his face, rubbing at the tissue there.
"is there anything i can do to make it better?"
you meant it. whether his response was flirtatious or in earnest. you hoped for the former, but were prepared for the latter.
"the answer i wanna give you'd be incredibly inappropriate." he practically groaned.
reaching between you, you grabbed his hand, pressing it to your thigh. not in a suggestive manner, no. just to have his skin on yours somehow.
"i think we're past inappropriate. don't you think, sammy?"
your words were whispered now. you weren't sure when, but the distance between you had diminished over the few minutes you'd spent talking. it was still a proper distance, but one sudden move could've easily changed that.
from your place, you could see every detail about sammy. the warm light of his room offered you the perfect view to every mark on his face, every freckle, every wrinkle. you could see how his lip quirked upward at your proximity, how the furrow of his brow expressed the slight hesitation still there. his hair was practically dry now, somehow creating the prettiest curls despite any lack of attention given to them after his shower.
a fleeting thought of washing his hair came to mind. lathering the shampoo on his curls, taking care of sammy after a long day, covering the expanse of his skin with soapy suds and washing it all off for him. leading him to bed, fresh and new and running your hands through his hair until he fell asleep.
your fantasy died off when sammy finally made a move of his own. his hand loosened around yours, fingers extending and tracing the soft skin of your thigh, wordless and intimate. his eyes were focused upon that spot on your skin, leaving it after a few seconds and finally finding your eyes, a carnal look overcoming them.
"yeah. i think so too."
the gap was closed then, with sammy's lips basically launching against yours, pure urgency in his movements. his sturdy hands landed on your hips like magnets, gripping at them harshly as he pulled you on top of him into a straddling position.
your legs wrapped around his own, your weight distributed between your knees and his thighs. the feeling of him under you made you dizzy with desire, made you kiss him a little harder, made your tongue dig a little deeper into his mouth. it was a mess of heavy breaths, saliva being exchanged liberally between the two of you. your hands pulled at his curls, earning a groan mixed with pain and pleasure, head thrown back and giving you the perfect chance to kiss down its length, licking at the remnants of shower water and sucking at the freckled skin.
the towel proved to be a thick barrier between you, but you remedied that by digging your hand between your bodies, hastily unwrapping its front and freeing him from underneath. his hands had found the bare skin under your shirt by then, reaching up to your breasts and cupping them in his hands, squeezing and running his thumbs over your peaked nipples. trailing back up to his lips, you sighed into them at the feeling of his hands on your skin, crying out when he pulled at your nipples, chuckling into your mouth at your squeal.
"sammy, fuck." you mumbled into his lips.
"can i get this off?" he almost whispered, hands already on the hem of your shirt, fingers itching to throw it off.
silently, you nodded, leaning back to give his hands some space to lift it off.
his greedy hands went up to your breasts again. there was no degree of shyness in showing off his depravity towards you. his hands felt at every inch of your body, going north to south and caressing every curve he could get his hands on, groaning at every moan you released at his touches. you felt itchy with desire, needing his every touch, his every drag of his fingers on your skin.
"i lied." he mumbled, making you look up at him.
"hmm?"
"that day, when you asked me to get you a towel. i turned around and saw you. naked. in my shower." he was panting every word, mumbled between kisses on your breasts. "you've been driving me crazy since that first day."
"that's good." you sighed. "cause i've been wanting to jump you since that first day at the police station."
he groaned, face digging into the crook of your neck and licking at the skin there. he sighed into your flesh, lips dragging all the way to your earlobe and nibbling at it, heavy breath so close it took over your senses.
"god, baby, you don't know what you're saying." he sounded tortured. "you're gonna make me lose my mind." he continued, hands reaching down to your middle and toying at your panties. his fingers dug beneath them, snapping at the band softly a few times before gripping at it and ripping it off, the ripping sound making you gasp.
"you're a fucking dream." he kept going, lips resting against yours, but not filling the gap, just breathing against you. "you have any idea how long i've wanted a pretty girl waiting at home for me like this? hmm? cooking for me, cleaning my place, waiting up for me with nothing on but these tiny little panties." he rubbed at your nude hips, rounding his hands to grip your ass. "just pushing me until i snapped."
your chest rose up and down, your breath heavy with desire. that was exactly what you'd wanted. you were in denial, but you'd been playing a silly little housewife fantasy ever since he'd taken you in. you'd been waiting for the day he finally came home and did with you as he pleased, until he finally stopped holding back and gave you what you both clearly wanted.
but he was being cruel now.
his hands felt so good on you, and the heaviness of his breath seeping into your lips made you sick with lust. his words had your eyes rolling back, your fingers bruising at his arms with their harsh grip. you needed him inside you, needed him to slip through the sopping wetness between your legs and let you have your way with him — or even better, use you to his heart's desire.
"sammy, please-"
"yeah, yeah, i know. i'm right here, sweetheart."
he was about to lift you up, line himself up and finally give you what you'd been begging for. but there was something else you wanted. something you'd been dreaming off since you first saw him, confident gait as if he were carrying something heavy. and now you had evidence of it.
you scoot away from him, hand reaching between you to hold him in your hand. the precum dripping from his tip made the perfect lube, moisturizing him enough for your hand to smoothly jerk him a few times before lowering your mouth on him, tongue out first to lick at the head.
"oh, baby-"
you took him in, mouth hollowed out and tongue sticking out, licking and sucking at his underside. you bobbed your head a few times to test his girth in your mouth, unable to take the whole thing in due to how thick he was, but still getting enough to hit the back of your throat. gagging around him, you moaned when his hand gripped at your hair, holding you there as his hips swirled up into your mouth a few times.
"just like that, sweetheart, shit. fucking gorgeous mouth." he moaned when you gagged, head thrown back.
saliva pooled at his base, creating a mess that trailed from your mouth to his balls. your hand went south, playing with his balls while your mouth remained occupied. your moans vibrated against him, making his toned stomach tense above you. when you looked up, you found him with his mouth agape, occasionally trapping his lower lip with his teeth to hold back sounds of pleasure.
it wasn't long until he pulled you off by your hair, making you gasp once your mouth was freed up. still, the newfound oxygen didn't make you whine at the loss of his cock in your mouth.
"i wasn't finished." you pouted at him.
he pouted back mockingly, thumb cleaning up the sliver of cum still on your lower lip before pecking at your lips. "don't wanna cum like that, baby. i have so many other plans for you.
pulling you up, he brought you to wrap your legs around him once more, hands naturally landing on your ass and pressing you up against him, breasts now in direct contact with his chest, nipples rubbing against him.
"gorgeous girl." he mumbled. "can i fuck you now, huh?"
you nodded, eyes on his lips, tilting your face so they'd connect, only to be stopped before making contact.
"shhh. patience."
asshole. he loved how into him you were. and you couldn't say you minded it. you had no problem being a desperate mess for him if that's what he wanted.
once again, he lifted you up just enough to sneak his dick between you, finding you dripping even more than before. he groaned at the feeling, letting his tip dip into you. the slight stretch made your back arch, your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders. the feeling maximized as he lowered you further, veins popping out of his arms at the strength with which he held you.
"fucking shit." he gasped, lowering his head to your shoulder, teeth baring and scraping lightly at you, clearly trying to hold back from biting you. "don't fucking move, baby. shit. need a second."
but those words meant nothing to you when you were already on cloud nine. you gasped at the feeling of him breaching you, back painfully arched and tits pressed into his chest, slightly dragging yourself up and down for some stimulation on your nipples. when you tried to mindlessly bounce on him, his hand tightened even more, groaning in a mixture of pleasure and frustration.
"just one minute, baby." he huffed. "gonna fucking come if you move."
you tightened at that — you hadn't meant to. his voice was just so gruff and his skin felt so good against yours (plus his dick, hard and curved so deliciously inside you didn't help), you couldn't control how your pussy reacted to him.
"sammy, please." you whined. you leaned closer, licking a strip of his neck and sighing into his ear, teeth nibbling at his lobe before pleading again, mean and needy. "feel so fucking good, baby. need you to fuck me. please?"
once again, he groaned, nodding defeatedly.
"okay, baby. just- fuck, just go slow, okay? gonna fucking come if you- oh, fucking shit."
you didn't listen to him, digging your fingers into his shoulders and beginning to move to your liking. the slapping of skin was immediate, the back of your thighs hitting against his legs while the poor man below you groaned and moaned into the skin of your neck. he licked and bit at you, drooling all over you while his hands scrambled to grab at your waist, legs, hips, tits, anywhere they could find.
you couldn't voice how good you felt. all that would leave your lips were the two syllables that made up his name, along with the occasional expletive. when his hips began hammering into yours from below, even those two syllables became an uphill battle.
sammy used all his strength to lift you while you fucked yourself into him, softly tackling you onto your back without removing his dick from your warmth. now above you, he wrapped your legs around him, pressing his full weight against you and trapping you beneath him. he lost his mind then, mindless as he fucked into you, groaning filth into your ear, feeding off your every whine of his name.
"so fucking good for me. perfect fucking pussy."
"how're you this tight, baby? huh?"
"that's it, take it for me, baby. such a good girl."
"you needed this dick so bad, huh? so tight i can barely breathe."
he had you babbling incoherencies in return. his words made your mind melt, your resolve leave you completely. you were so gone, your orgasm snuck into you with no warning. by the time you felt that burning hot sensation in your stomach, you were already in it. you tightened around him, biting his shoulder to muffle the scream you let out. but this didn't deter him. no, it only brought even more filth out of his lips, it only made his hips go harder, fucking you through the entirety of your orgasm.
his hips faltered after a while, a low groan leaving him when he began to release into you. one last time, he pushed deeply into you, filling you with his cum, a broken chuckle leaving him when it kept going and going, slipping out of you. when he pulled out (earning a cry from you and hush from him), his fingers took his cock's place, pushing in any spunk that leaked out.
not that he'd admit it, but a sick part of him hoped it'd take. that it'd fill you up for months, up until the moment you gave him a shared piece of you that'd have you in his home for the rest of your lives. you hoped this too, quiet and ashamed, but the two of you were well aware of your birth control pills sitting outside on the coffee table. it was just a fantasy, but the thought still made your cunt flutter around his fingers.
"shit, kid." he chuckled when he finally laid down beside you. "don't take this the wrong way, but i hope they never find the funds for that witness protection."
you slapped his chest lightly, giggling when he huffed and pulled you in closer, letting you nuzzle under his arm. "what, wanna keep me hostage now?"
"it's not a matter of want, baby. you're mine now."
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