#richie boyle

[odiniswithus]

DYLAN O'BRIEN as RICHIE BOYLE

——–THE OUTFIT——–

[obriengf]

How would the characters react to their partner who is usually smiley and happy, stop smiling because of a bad day or something happened

please send me some dylan characters and headcanons! TEMPORARILY CLOSED

stiles: the moment he sees your saddened face, his would drop too. your smile would be his driving force and without it, all energy would be drained. stiles would be desperate to know the source of what made you lose your sparkle but he also knew that comfort needs to come first, and questions asked later. stiles loves hugs - so immediately, you would be wrapped within his arms and he would hold you until he deemed enough. if you cried, his hand would rub your back. if you were just dejected, he would whisper stupid jokes in your ear until you laughed. he wouldn't try using his detective skills on what made you upset until he knew you were looked after.

mitch: if you were his work partner, mitch wouldn't know what to do if you were sad. usually, you were kickass and didn't let anything bother you, keeping your emotions at bay like the CIA taught you both so well to do. you would finish a mission, and the relief wouldn't be evident as it usually was - and that was mitch's first clue. he wouldn't ask what was wrong, but probably pat your shoulder awkwardly, and try to distract you with promises of drinks or packing up your belongings for the jet ride home. if you were his lover, he would feel emotional distress of his own seeing you upset. he would hold you tight, and try to coax out the reason for your sadness. if it was a person, mitch would definitely handle it.

thomas: he had spent so long making sure everybody was safe and happy in the safe haven, so it was only natural that his determination continued if he saw you downhearted. thomas wouldn't ask why until you were ready, but he would try to distract you. he'd probably convince you to go on a run with him to clear your mind, stopping for a break at one of the small cliffsides up the mountain as you both took in the view. he'd try to make you smile and happy, then probably make a comment like 'there's that smile I've been missing'. after a while, he would ask what was wrong. and despite possible protests, he would do whatever he could to make sure he could resolve it.

stuart: he didn't have the best social skills, and probably wouldn't notice you were sad until someone else mentioned it and it caught his attention. he would be awkward around the situation, but he wasn't heartless. stuart just rolling his seat over to yours and sitting silently until you looked over to him - he would smile nervously, probably reach out to lightly pat you shoulder and it would make your face screw up in confusion. but he wouldn't leave you as he started making small talk, asking if you needed anything, or wanted help with work. stuart wouldn't ask what was wrong but he would try be be accommodating, and that was more than enough for you.

joel: he is extremely empathetic - if you were upset, he would be on you in seconds asking what happened. joel would want to know so he could figure out the best way to make you feel better. you need comfort? sit back and he would make you some soup to 'warm your soul'. you need consolation? he would stick to your side, hugging you or just holding you to him as he rocked you slowly. you want to be left alone? he understood that, and he would let you cool off but he wouldn't be far away as he observed to make sure you were alright. joel would never be too far away... as long as he would be able to make you smile again.

sam: sam would begin with being slightly anxious - a part of him would worry if he did something wrong, the other part would be about whether he could fix whatever was wrong. this aspect of him drove gentle questioning about what led to you being upset, and once he knew the answer, he jumped straight into caring protective mode. he would have careful movements as he held you, or led you to a comfortable place. sam getting you a warm drink to give you a bit of pep, or if you are incredibly upset he would make you drink a glass of cold water to calm your nerves. he would assess whether you need to talk it through, and act accordingly.

richie: richie doesn't always think rationally, which is why anger would be at the forefront of his mind. the fact that something or someone made you upset was utterly appalling, and they needed to be taken down. he would find out what happened, and either send someone to deal with it on behalf of him as he looked after you, or he would go deal with it himself so that they felt the despair that provoked you to collapse sad and upset in his arms. he never showed this side of him in public, but behind closed doors he would absolutely dote over you - loving hugs and reassurance, a soft tender side that only came out for you. whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and promises like 'they will think twice next time they decide to mess with my girl again'.

[anonazure]

I contemplated adding my Stilinski bros as Eli's uncles...

But you know what, I want Eli to have more questionably dangerous powerful relatives

[freedomfireflies]

Hi! Can you do a Richie Boyle smut short where he has sex with the reader who happens to be Francis’ sister because he is jealous about how close Francis is with his father?

“You again.”

The deep, salacious purr slips over your shoulder as you feel a warm chest press against your back.

You recognize the voice. The accent. The smell of his cologne, and the incessant need to seek you out just to intimidate you.

You don’t want to feel intimidated by him, but sometimes…you just can’t help it. Because despite Francis’s warnings, Richie has always had this…ability. This effortless talent to draw in the attention of everyone in the room.

Maybe it’s because they know he’s the son of one of the most dangerous mobsters in Chicago, or maybe it’s just his charm.

Either way, he certainly always has your attention.

“Richie,” you greet, willing yourself to sound uninterested. “You’re early.”

You catch his nonchalant shrug out of your peripheral as he reaches into his coat pocket to retrieve a cigarette. “Or maybe your brother is just late.”

“He’s in another meeting,” you explain, glancing back just in time to watch him light the object between his fingers. “He’ll be here soon.”

He takes a long, slow drag, eyes falling over your face before he exhales the smoke from his mouth and tsks, “Not soon enough.”

With that, he brushes past you and further into the warehouse, leaving you to stare at his back.

“Let me guess,” he calls over his shoulder, removing his hat and tossing onto a nearby table. “He’s with my pops.”

You straighten up, taking note of the slight edge woven between each word. “Yes.”

Richie chuckles. A dark, almost sarcastic sound. “Of fucking course. Always. S’always fucking Francis, isn’t it?”

You don’t really know what to say to that, but you suppose it’s more of a rhetorical question as he suddenly spins around to look at you.

“And let me guess…” he says again, now taking a deliberate step toward you just to watch your lashes flutter. “They sent you…to keep an eye on me.”

You go deathly still as he begins to approach. You don’t want him to know he’s right, but you suppose he’s smart enough to have figured it out.

Francis didn’t think he would. In fact, nobody suspects Richie of being sharp enough to do anything.

You don’t know him very well, but even you can see that that’s an unfair assumption.

“They sent you…” he continues, head cocking as he studies you, “to keep me out of trouble.”

He’s closer now. Much closer and your heart begins to race as the light catches the golden hue in his eyes.

 You open your mouth, ready to respond, but find that you have nothing to say. What can you say? You can’t lie to him. He’d surely have you hung if he found out.

So, you go with Plan B. “They did,” you agree, breath hitching as you anxiously await his reaction.

He’s quiet for a moment, regarding you with what looks to be amusement as his tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip. “Yeah? You gonna keep me out of trouble?”

Again, you have nothing to offer him. No quippy remark, no argument—nothing.

And you want to berate yourself for the way you’ve gone so soft but there’s something…about him. Some shift in his demeanor that’s caught you off guard.

Francis has made comments about Richie for years. Calling him spoiled, weak, a waste of goddamn hair.

He’s painted him to be this narcissistic monster with no charisma or soul.

But the man before…is not the man your brother described.

This Richie is…well, breath-taking.

And he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing he sees. And perhaps that’s all part of some act, but…for right now…you choose to believe it’s real.

His hand lifts, long fingers finding your jaw as he follows the sharp curve to your chin. Then, he takes hold and tilts your head up.

“I asked you a question, mama,” he murmurs, and you swallow.

“I don’t think I could ever keep you out of trouble,” you answer honestly, and you’re rewarded with a proud smirk.

“Is that right?” he hums, letting his thumb ghost over your bottom lip. “Well…maybe a little trouble is exactly what I need.”

You straighten up. “Yeah? And what makes you think you could handle it?”

His palm instantly moves back to your jaw as he squeezes—hard. “Better watching your fucking tone, honey.”

 “Yeah? Or what, Rich?” you retort, offering him a small but incredibly smug smile. “Hm? What are you gonna do without your little henchmen?”

He hesitates for no more than a second before he’s tossing his cigarette aside to grab onto both your hips and shove you back against the nearest support beam. 

You gasp to hide an excited whine, the wind nearly knocked from your lungs at the force of his aggression.

His palm comes up to your throat, fingers tapping your pulse point as he squeezes just hard enough to make your head spin. “Say it again.”

You squirm, a needy pit growing in your stomach at the devious expression on his face. In his voice. His touch. 

“Say it,” he hisses, lips dangerously close to your own. Taunting you with a taste. “Or beg me to prove you wrong.”

You’re practically panting, hands finding his shirt to clutch onto the material and urge him closer. “Rich…”

“What?” His head cocks, mouth once again dancing up in a condescending grin. “What, mama? What do you need?”

His fist snaps closed around your throat as you inhale sharply, your lashes fluttering until he’s satisfied with your reaction, and loosens his grip again. 

“You,” you whisper, but it’s teetering on the edge of a whimper. “You, Rich…please—”

He kisses you, quickly, and fervently. And it’s full of unspoken desire and need, his tongue tangling with yours as you just about slide down the beam.

“Nuh-uh,” he growls, using the hand on your hip to force you back up. “Not going anywhere, sugar. Gonna stay right here. Where I can ruin you.”

And maybe you know better. Maybe you know Francis would never forgive you. Maybe you know that you’re only a pawn in the game Richie is so desperately trying to play.

But maybe you just don’t give a shit.

“Hurry,” you murmur, head falling back as he kisses down your throat. “They’re gonna be here soon. He’ll kill you if he knows.”

Richie’s arrogant reaction is obvious to you even without being able to see his face. “And who says I fucking care, hm?”

With that, he moves to your dress, bunching the excessive material up so he can slip underneath and find you.

His fingers drag deliberately slow along the band of your underwear. And when he dips down to tease your clit over the fabric, you gasp again and straighten up onto your tiptoes.

He laughs, too pleased with himself for making you fall apart so easily.

He was right. He could ruin you. He’s going to ruin you.

And perhaps that’ll come back to bite you in the ass tomorrow.

But for right now…

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

LISTEN, I EDGED YOU JUST A LITTLE BIT, I'M SO SORRY BUT IF YOU EVER WANT A PART 2, LET ME KNOW, AND WE CAN FINISH WHAT WE STARTED 🤪

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[dylnsohbrien]

[asterias-record-shop]

Eghem *wink wink* here comes the Richie Boyle request babe. Can I please request a story where the reader and Richie are long time friends and the reader is suspicious of Mable, but Richie is not listening to her and then moments before he gets shot the reader comes and saves the day while also getting rid of Mable, cuz we're that petty💅🏼. I'm kinda struggling with where the romantic part comes, but maybe in the end? Idk that's why I'll leave it to u since you're more creative.

Thank you for taking the time!!!

—𓆩[took you long enough]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

"Richie, you know she has a crush on you, right?"

Your words make Richie roll his eyes, taking the cigarette you both were sharing as you kicked your feet slightly on the roof of his mansion. The two of you had been sneaking onto the roof since you both were young and your parents were already talking about how you both were to be married at this age.

Your mother was already planning your wedding to be in four months time.

Richie didn't sleep around like everyone thought, ending every night sneaking into your room before bed and having you clean up all of his injuries of the fights he had gotten in that day. You were a nurse in the war for a while, and it was proven of use now that your fiancé was a member of a Mafia.

“You think I give two shits? The bitch is… a prude. She can’t handle me.” Richie winked at you as he watched you throw the butt of the cigarette down to the ground. “So, how are our wedding plans going, doll?”

“Absolutely amazing,” you giggled. Richie smiling at how happy this was getting you. Maybe, just maybe, you would be happy getting married to him. “Even if it’s not real, you know damn well I’m getting my big wedding.”

Richie scoffed slightly, the only thing he could do. He couldn’t let you in and say how bad he wanted it to be real, or tell you that it already was real. You had always said you would never get married if it wasn’t for love, and if that was true, why are you marrying him?

“Why’re you marrying me, doll?” Richie lit another cigarette easily with his other hand as you made sure the gauze on his arm would stay.

You paused, tilting your head up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you marrying me?” He fixed his words, trying to sound more professional. “You always said you wouldn’t get married if it wasn’t for love.”

You inhaled as you fixed the gauze, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Well, I’ve always been told this was going to happen,” you shrugged, standing and gathering your stuff. “Guess I tricked myself into falling in love with you.”

Richie doesn’t say anything as you stand, balancing yourself on the roof as you go into the room, already making yourself comfortable in Richie’s bed. He quickly finished the cigarette, standing and going into the room before someone knocks.

“Work?” You ask, the moonlight illuminating your body and that perfect satin nightgown that he always tried to sneak his hand under.

“Most likely, doll,” Richie grabs his coat and starts putting on his holsters as you hummed. “Be back soon.”

“Yeah,” you respond softly, twisting so that he couldn’t look at you. Richie hummed as he slowly kneeled onto the bed, pressing soft, playful kisses to your cheek and temple. “Ew, Richie! Leave, oh my goodness, you’re disgusting!”

He laughed as he stood, scoffing at the harder knock before fixing himself and getting his poker face back on. “Be back soon.”

“Be safe, Rich,” you whisper back, humming as you softly pushed him away. "Your daddy had a phone installed in here. Call me if you need anything, Richie."

"Same to you, doll."

You didn't expect to get a call saying Richie got shot. When you got there, you were already pissed when you saw Mable trying to stitch him up. "For fucks sake, get your hands off of me! You don't even know how to clean it right- fuck!"

"Leonard? Leonard, where is he?!" You yelled out, unable to find him just by his voice before Francis stepped out.

"There you are pretty girl; Richie's been absolutely begging for you."

"Oh, shut up!" You respond, quickly going to the back. "I got it, you can leave now."

You glared at Mable who just stared, mouth opening and closing like a fish as Richie flashed you a slight smile. "There you are doll. What took you so long?"

"Shut up," you couldn't hold back a giggle, quickly setting your bag on the table and shoving her out of the way. "Where's Leo?"

"I don't fucking know," he grunted as you opened up your medical bag, quickly pushing his hand behind your head and pulling you down for a firm kiss.

You gasped, giggling as you moved your hands to cup his face, nodding. "Took you long enough."

ahhh, you’re literally the best, my love! I loved writing this when I had to take a little break from Bingo :)

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© asterias-record-shop

[itsawhumpyroad]

Chapter 10: Pit Stop III - Waltzing with Morpheus (AO3)

Francis’ transformation had begun swiftly. He’d fought alongside Mr. Boyle, Richie and Monk — proving himself through grit and skill. Mr. Boyle had no qualms about proclaiming him soon as his right-hand man. Gone were his rough, street-worn clothes; replaced by sleek, tailored suits and perfectly knotted ties.

He’d abandoned the dingy apartment where his father had met his end and where the moldy walls still carried the echoes of his mother’s dirty secrets. Mr. Boyle had offered him a room in his opulent mansion, a grand gesture of goodwill and trust. Yet Francis had politely declined, opting instead for a condo in a quiet suburb of Chicago. He’d valued his new family, but also his independence, and his own place provided a sense of privacy amidst the chaos of his new life.

However, Mr. Boyle had welcomed him at all times, inviting him to take full advantage of the mansion’s amenities as if they were his own. Francis had accepted this offer, finding himself occasionally lounging in one of their swimming pools, wrapped in a plush towel after a steamy session in the sauna, or savoring exquisite food crafted by Mr. Boyle’s personal chef Mr. Goldrick.

Inevitably, he had also caught glimpses of Richie’s erratic life: Girlfriends fluttered in and out of the mansion with alarming frequency. Some came for the glitz and the cash, exploiting his wealth for their own gain. Other relationships were genuine and intense and craved Richie’s affection. Their laughter would often ripple through the halls, and more than once Francis had awkwardly stumbled upon them together. But what all those relationships had in common was their brevity, each one plunging Richie into heartbreak that either catapulted him into the wild swirl of Chicago’s nightlife or further entrenched him in their underworld businesses.

Read more on AO3.

[purelysober]

people are like: “my fandoms so small, we only have like 500 fics on ao3!!!”

bitch i got 1 good one.

but thank god it’s a heavenly masterpiece because less than like 7 months ago there were only 2 which were weird ships… no i did not wanna read dylan o’brien characters shagging derek hale what the fuck 😭😭

best fic ever.

[snatching-ishidates-wig]

[slytherinsbrat]

I've been hit by such a writer's block lately. Yet I'm dying to write something. I'd love to write either:

•Stiles stilinski x reader

•Richie boyle × reader

Can someone send me a prompt please?

[odiniswithus]

two gangsters

[obriengf]

OH how would the guys react to seeing reader in something sexy for the first time

omg i loved this - please send me some dylan characters and headcanons!

stiles: his jaw would quite literally drop to the floor, eyes staring shamelessly. you were probably going to a party and lydia gave you some unnecessary fashion advice, but you started rethinking just how necessary it really was when you saw stiles' reaction. he would have the equivalent of cartoon heart eyes, and an obvious trail of drool down his chin. constantly babbling about how good you looked, how beautiful you were. scott would need to give him wack over the head to break him out of his admiring daze.

mitch: this depends purely on the situation. if it were casual, he would wolf whistle loudly. probably make some small remark about how sexy you look, how he was desperate to get his hands all over you. holding your hand above your head and prompting you to twirl for him. if it were on a mission, however, he would stay silent but he can only control himself so much. you're undercover and he didn't expect the tight material, but he would stare, like really stare... especially at your ass. most likely thinking very dirty things.

thomas: the first thing he would do is curse under his breath, very taken aback. he would be drawn speechless after that, but it was his eyes that did all the talking. they trailed every single inch of you, slowly and with purpose. when he focused on a bit of skin you can guarantee that he would be biting down hard on his lip, trying to hold back a moan. thomas wouldn't be able to stop thinking how soft your skin would be, and you better believe that he has the image of you burnt in his mind forever.

stuart: he would need to be coaxed away from his phone or laptop screen, but damn, when he did he would forget that they even existed. his face would contort into a faux-drunken expression as he took you in - eyes blinking constantly, wondering if this was a dream. you'd be talking to him about going out with neha and some other friends, but he wasn't listening in all honesty, just absolutely mesmerised by how hot you looked. then he'd probably snap out of it and remind you to take one of his jackets to stop pervs from staring at you too.

joel: it'd be a hot day, a really hot day, as you wandered across the surface to get to jenner beach. joel would be ahead of you, face peering down at the map, talking aloud but mostly to himself. it wasn't until he turned around to ask you something that he saw that you had shed some layers - your jacket gone, shirt rolled up your torso, shorts cuffed even shorter. you were glistening from the heat and perspiration of the environment. he could hear boy barking at him, and he could see you reach out, but joel was so taken by how you looked that he didn't notice the hole behind him - one step too far, eyes focused on you, and joel fell deep, and hard (play on words, hehe).

sam: he first saw you standing across the bar from him - he'd definitely spoken to you before, in fact, you were one of his many tinder dates, but he never called you back. sam didn't remember that though as he drunk in your tight clothes that hugged you just right, and how your hips swayed as you walked, your body perfect as it stood before him. sam's obliviousness forced him over to you as he leaned on the bartop, tongue lapping at his lips, a silent groan settling in his chest. he threw a compliment your way, and next thing he knew, your drink was thrown back in his face.

richie: he would be so proud that his partner looked that good. it was a thing of richie's to focus on appearances - he had to, always being in the spotlight. not to be mistaken though with the fact that he loves you for being you, your kindness and huge heart is what captured his. but he never would've expected your clothing to be that figure-hugging, especially within this day and age of conservative, but expensive, dressing. you were both at a gathering and richie definitely showed you off, you were his and he wanted everyone to know it. after enough gawking, though, he took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders - not to be removed until later tonight, in his bedroom.

[harringtonstilinski]

Mastermind - Richie Boyle (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Richie Boyle x Reader Word Count: 2,691 Warnings: fluff Smut: no | yes; fingering Requested: Yes! I hope it meets your expectations, anon friend!​​​ A/N: Hi, friends! After not posting for Richie for ages, I'm finally getting one out! I think this is the shortest smut piece I've ever written, lol. BUT, I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

May 1956. The biggest month of your life. Your third date with Richie Boyle was this month. The two of you had met at Burling’s when you were getting your father’s suit back from being tailored. 

After Leonard had handed you your father’s suit, you turned to walk back through the entry where Mable sat, only to crash into Roy Boyle’s son. He held you steady with a hand on your back, asking if you were okay, and from then on, you and Richie had a thing going.

He had brought you to his home the night of your second date to meet father, the Irish Mob Boss, Roy Boyle. Everyone was taught to fear ol’ Roy because of his background, but he showed you nothing but kindness and welcomed you into his home with open arms. Ever since then, you were an honorary member of the Boyle family.

But, tonight was a very special night. Richie had told you that he had something special planned and to dress casually but nice. Since the only thing you really wore was skirts, you opted for a black, knee length one with a pink top and your black and white Oxford shoes. 

Your hair was down and in curls that were in style. As you were touching your curls up, you heard a knock coming from the front door, so you hurried as quickly and elegantly as you could before grabbing your purse, your coat and gloves, putting your coat and purse on as you walked briskly to the door, opening it after putting on one of your gloves.

Smiling, you looked at how handsome Richie looked in his suit. “Hi, Richie.”

“Hi, beautiful,” he replied. “Damn. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said, your cheeks warming a little. “You look handsome as ever.”

“Thanks, doll.”

The nickname that made your knees weak. 

“You ready?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled, putting on the other glove. 

Richie put his arm out to the side, letting you walk in front of him after you locked and shut your door. Being the gentleman that his father raised him to be, he made himself home on your right, blocking the traffic from you in case something were to happen.

The movie theater wasn’t far from your home; a couple of blocks at most. Richie had it all planned out, and executed part of his plan on his walk to get you. He put his arm around you as you walked before saying, “Listen, doll, I was thinking; maybe we'll catch a later show and go get some dinner.”

You happily groaned, carefully leaning your head back on his shoulder as to not mess your curls up. “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

“No snacks?”

“Nope. I was too busy getting ready to think about food.”

The two of you hadn’t really had your first kiss as a couple yet. The closest your lips got to each other were your cheeks. So when you looked up at Richie, your heart beat just a little bit faster as he looked down at you and smirked before kissing your forehead.

Nevertheless, you smiled and looked forward, seeing a couple put their heads down and scoot to the other side of the sidewalk. The action made you sigh in defeat.

“What’s the matter, doll?” Richie asked.

“I just don’t like seeing people cower at seeing you or your father,” you answered, honestly. “It makes me sad.”

“I know. But that’s the way my family works.”

Looking back up at him, you said, “Please tell me it won’t be like that if we have a family one day.”

Richie looked down at you, seeing the worry in your eyes, and smirked. “I promise. Besides, I think Francis will take over and kick me out of my own family.”

“I’ll have to hurt him, then,” you said, a small smile on your own face.

Turning the both of you towards the door of both of your favorite Italian restaurant, Richie asked, “And how do you plan on doin’ that?”

“Kick him in his family jewels.”

The two of you chuckled as you walked inside, the host quickly grabbing two menus and leading you to Richie’s normal table. What struck you as odd as the three of you passed the tables, was seeing Mable there, looking sad and uncomfortable at seeing the two of you together.

You decided to ask Richie about after the host left the table once Richie helped you in your chair. “Hey, Richie?”

“Yeah, doll?” he asked, looking at his menu, already knowing what he wanted.

“Was there something between you and Mable before I came along? She’s here and looked quite upset.”

Sighing, Richie set the menu down, lacing his fingers together before placing his arms on the table. “Yes. I couldn’t get you off my mind after our first meeting, so I broke things off with her a couple of weeks later. I waited about two months before asking you on our first date.”

“Such a gentleman,” you replied, sarcastically. 

“You’ve seen how my Pops is with me and Francis. Treats that son of a bitch like he’s his goddamn son.”

You flinched at his use of language, something you weren’t used to yet.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized. “But the one good thing about him is that he treats you like the daughter he’s always wanted.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” you smiled, holding your water glass up to take a small sip.

When the waiter showed up at the table with Richie’s favorite appetizer, he voiced that our meals would be out shortly, to which Richie thanked him for. 

He looked at you, a chuckle sounding from his throat at the disgusted look on your face. “What?”

“I still can’t believe you eat calamari.”

Just then, the waiter returned, setting a plate in front of you, profusely apologizing. “I am so sorry, Mr. Boyle. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s fine,” you answered. “Thank you.” You smiled up at the waiter, seeing a bead of sweat fall to his eyebrow from his hairline. 

He quickly smiled at you before darting off to the kitchen. 

Looking at Richie, you knew the look he was wearing all too well. “Oh, stop it, Richie. It was an accident. Maybe they didn’t have it ready when yours was. I mean, you do come here alone sometimes. Maybe they didn’t think you’d have someone with you.”

“Then why would they get two menus?”

“Rich,” you said, softly. Using the nickname only you were allowed to use, aside from his mother before she passed. “It’s fine. Don’t cause a scene.”

Richie relented, looking down at your plate. “Tomato and bruschetta?”

Holding one out for him, you smiled and said, “Here, try it.”

“Try the calamari first.”

“I have. I had a bad batch once. Turned me off of it forever.”

“Where from?” Richie asked.

Waving him off, you answered, “This little diner I used to work at. I actually think your dad used to stop by a lot.”

You looked at him while taking a bite of your food, seeing a look of confusion and thoughtfulness on his face. Snorting lightly, you covered your mouth with your hand. “What’s with the look?”

“Pops never stopped by any diner. Not that- wait, the one off West Randolph?” He pointed his fork at you in recollection. “The sock-hop one.”

Nodding with a smile on your face, you answered, “The Soda Hop.” You set your bruschetta down, covering your mouth while you laughed. “Such a cheesy name.”

Richie joined you in your laughter, essentially agreeing with you about the name when the waiter showed back up, bringing out Richie’s order of a roast chicken with his favorite sides, as well as your order. 

The two of you dug into your meals, laughing and chatting while you ate. When dessert came, you thought you were going to bust, but as you were walking along the sidewalk with your arm wrapped around Richie’s, everything seemed to fall into place.

To say that you were falling in love with Richie was an understatement. You were in love with him the moment you bumped into him at Burling’s. You’re thankful that your father sent you instead of going himself.

As you and Richie approached the theater, you stopped him and turned to face him. “Please tell me this is just a normal date on a normal night watching a normal movie.”

Richie took half a step closer to you, placing his hand gently against your cheek, your head tilting into his touch. “Of course it is, doll. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you’re Richie Boyle, and knowing you, you probably bought out the whole theater for only us.” You felt him stiffen slightly at that.

“Richieeeeee,” you groaned.

“I just wanted it to be special,” he said, softly.

“It would’ve been special even if it was packed full of people, babe.”

Chuckling, his eyes cast down to your lips before looking back into your eyes. “Wouldn’t be special with what I have planned for us, beautiful.”

Your core clenched at his words. The two of you hadn’t reached that part in your relationship yet, and you felt ready. You just weren’t sure if Richie was ready for that part. Well, you actually did know that he was ready. It was just a matter of time before either of you made a move in those regards.

“Come on,” Richie said, putting his arm around your shoulders. “Let’s go enjoy this movie.”

You didn’t know which movie he had picked, so to say that you were excited was an understatement as the two of you walked up to the snack counter, where Richie ordered the two of you a couple of Cokes before you two went into the theater.

Finding your seats was easy as Richie had suggested the seats in the dead center of the room. Smiling as you sat down, you looked at your boyfriend, watching as he took off his coat and hat, setting them into the seat next to him before finally finding a purchase beside you on his own.

You could feel that something big was going to come out of tonight, whether it was him ending the night in your bed, or you in his, but as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling your knuckles to his lips, you didn’t care where the night ended… as long as it ended with him.

The film that the two of you were watching was titled The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit. You had absolutely no idea what it was about, but you sat through the first quarter of the movie, eyes glued to the screen as you tried to follow along with the story line.

When you felt Richie’s lips on your knuckles again, you looked over at him, watching as he kissed his way down your hand and up your arm. As his eyes locked on yours, you couldn’t help the feeling that came over you as you leaned towards him, and he to you, your lips locking in your very first kiss as a couple. 

As your lips moved in sync, you didn’t register his hand moving to your inner thigh, slowly pulling your skirt up to your mid-thigh before gliding his fingers back up your inner thigh to where you wanted him most.

“Richie,” you moaned, softly.

“Yeah, babydoll?” he asked. You could hear that stupid smirk on his face as he spoke. “What do you want?”

Resting your head on his shoulder as he barely skimmed your clothed core, you quietly whined, “You,” before looking back at him. “I want you.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Softly kissing his lips, you breathed out a sigh before whispering, “Touch me. Please.”

He looked around at the exit points for any of the employees before looking up into the projection booth, seeing a body disappear out of sight before the booth’s door and exit doors closed, leaving the two of you alone.

Richie looked back to you, seeing an already fucked out look on your face. “Damn, baby. Fuckin’ needy already, huh?” He turned his body more toward you, moving his hand from your aching core to your knee, spreading your legs a little further apart, your skirt rising up more at the action.

Bringing his hand back to your center, his eyes locked onto his hand as he rubbed and down with two fingers before looking back at your face, your eyes shut at the small amount of pleasure he was giving you. “Do you want more, baby?”

Nodding your head, you whined a little louder than before. “Please.” You opened your eyes at the feel of your panties being moved to the side, Richie’s fingers gliding up your center, spreading your lips apart to reveal more of you to him.

You’d had sex with other men, sure, but none of them made you as wet as Richie did. 

“Damn, babydoll,” he whispered, eyes moving from your wet core to your eyes. “This all for me?”

You nodded your head again, your bottom lip between your teeth. A moan escaped your throat as you watched him put his fingers into his mouth, lapping up the arousal he had gathered, a satisfied groan coming from his own throat.

Bringing his fingers out of his mouth, he said, “You taste amazing, baby,” before bringing his fingers back to your center, a single digit sliding into you with ease, pumping a few times to elicit a long and loud moan from you before bringing said digit to your clit, where started to rub your nub in circles.

“You like that, babydoll?” he asked. “You like me playing with your clit?”

Your answer came in the form a loud moan, your head tossing back slowly, the pleasure starting to course through you as he moved his finger down to your entrance, circling your arousal a few times before inserting two fingers into your heat, his thumb attaching to your clit where he rubs circles in time with the pace he was setting his fingers.

“Damn, babydoll, you’re makin’ me hard,” he whispered, watching as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, the pressure in your belly starting to form.

Picking your head up, you looked at Richie, one of your eyebrows up and the other furrowed in pleasure. “Please, don’t stop Rich.” You took a breath to speak, but your words were cut off by a groan of pleasure. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Richie almost stopped all movements of his hand at hearing you say the word fuck. “My little innocent girlfriend said the word fuck. I’m corrupting you.”

“Shut the fuck up and make me cum,” you replied, your body bouncing with the movements of your hips. Once you felt the coil in your tummy was about to snap, you tossed your head back again, saying, “Faster, Rich. I’m gonna cum.”

Doing as you asked, Richie pumped his fingers a little faster, a yelp sounding from you as he pumped his fingers a little harder than he anticipated.

“Oh, my god,” you groaned. “Do that again. Do that a-” The word died on your tongue as Richie pumped his fingers harder into your core, the coil snapping without warning, your pussy pulsing against his fingers.

Slowly working you through your orgasm, Richie couldn’t help but watch as you tilted your head back up, looking him in the eyes. When he was sure your high was over, he pulled his fingers from you, putting his fingers back into his mouth. “Fuck, you’re incredible,” he moaned after pulling his clean fingers from his mouth.

He readjusted your panties and skirt, your legs back in their proper place. Once your head was resting against his shoulder with your hand around his arm, you sighed in content, noticing the movie was almost over with.

Looking up at him, you smiled. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Once he looked down at you, he smiled back and asked, “For what?” “The best night of my life… you little mastermind.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N 2: let me know what you thought!

Additional Note: i hope i did richie justice! 

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​​​​​ @stixnstripesworld​​​​​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​​​​ @quanticobae​​​​​​ @mischiefandi​​​​​​ @kellyashcroft​​​​​​ @lauren-novak​​​​​​​ @good-vibes-and-glitter​​​​​​

Posted on January 31, 2024

[madwomansapologist]

So It Goes… x Charles Boyle or Richie Jerimovich?

Taylor Swift Writing Challenge: So It Goes

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Charles Boyle & More Richie Jerimovich | #taylor swift writing challenge | AO3

synopsis: A night out, with alcohol and the man you want.

warnings: read this while listening to So It Goes.

— AND ALL OUR PIECES FALL RIGHT INTO PLACE.

• Everyone had promised Holt they'd be on their best behavior, but he should have known better than to expect his squad to miss out on Cop-Con. While he was preoccupied with a presentation, his attempt to annihilate Jeffrey Bouche, all the police officers were partying in one of the hotel rooms.

• So much drinking, so many games, at some point the sobriety faded into a murky blur. The world was no longer the same, no past or future to think about. All you wanted was for Boyle to keep making you laugh, and for the alcohol to keep filling you up. You were caught up in the moment.

• It was cold, but you both didn't mind that when you decided to leave your hotel room. Unable to walk in a straight line, words mixed in both your mouths. Boyle caught you when you stumbled, your laughter finding its way into his chest. You just wanted silence, Boyle just wanted to follow you. There's only so much noise you can take after so many tequilas. You didn't count how many drinks you had, but honestly, baby, who's counting?

• With a bottle half empty, you found a path in a garden. Life is so complicated, but walking around with Boyle aimlessly and talking about anything that comes to mind, it's so simple.

• Boyle said something about a robot, you thought you were hallucinating because at that moment nothing made sense anymore, when you passed him the bottle. Boyle stopped walking to take a sip, so you pulled him by the tie. He gasped, which made you laugh, and used his free hand to grab you around the waist. He pulled you close, and not even the drink stopped you from blushing.

"We don't need to hurry", Boyle took another sip. His body was so warm. "We have all the time in the world."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, Boyle practically kept you on your feet. At that moment, Boyle was wearing you like a necklace. "We have?"

"W-We do."

You pulled away, walking backwards as he glared at you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed when to stop walking. You smiled, and Boyle felt like he'd been shot. His chest was burning. "Then come here."

Boyle approached, his hand caressed your face as if it were a soft cloud. Charles smiled when he felt your hand on his. And when his lip was against your, your bodies intertwined, you dropped yourself into the pool.

And Charles followed you.

— GETTING CAUGHT UP IN A MOMENT LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE.

• It was a tough day to work at The Beef. A tough week. Month. Semester. Well, it can go on and on forever. Carmy almost had a heart attack five times. Sydney was on the edge of crying in front of everyone. Tina bruned your broth and Marcus held you down when he realized you would resort to violence. And Richie was a dick the whole time. As customary.

• But this time... it was the last straw. It wasn't just a shit day or a exhausting work, it was Beef's birthday. So Carmy decided everyone should get out tonight. Nothing fancy, just a bar where everyone could eat and drink and forgot that they hate their lives. Nice.

Tina spend the night talking with Marcus, just gossiping. "You noticed how they hate one another?"

Marcus camly agreed. "Richie knows how to be a dick." He at some of his fries. "Even the way they look at each other..."

"One day they will fight", Tina bet.

At the bottom of the bar, in a dark room that was definitely not made for customers to enter, were the two of you. His jacket on the floor, lipstick on his face. Sitting at a cold table with your back to the wall, all that existed was the man holding you.

Cold fingers sliding down your thigh. You wear his hand like a necklace. Scratches on his back. And so it goes.

"They will notice", you whispered against his mouth. There was clear meaning to what you said, but you made no effort to pull away.

"They can get fucked."

"I'm serious. They will notice we leave at the same time. And they will talk." The kisses on your neck made you stop. "But you don't care, do you?"

Richie backed away. Looking deep into your eyes, his blue eyes giving you goosebumps. He pulled you closer, a smile escaped his mouth. "You're mine to keep."

You smirked. "Then I'm yours to lose?"

"Never to lose." Richie caressed your hands. "Now come here."

— SO IT GOES...

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

BROOKLYN NINE NINE: @flowercrowns-goodvibes @notanalienindisguiseblink @vyctorya

THE BEAR: @flowercrowns-goodvibes @notanalienindisguiseblink @vyctorya

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[loolooloo-i-got-some-apples]

- masterlist collections -

all of my sloppy fanfics, headcanons and blurbs in one place

key :

🎱 = fluff,

⚠︎ = dark themes,

✮ = angst,

💿 = smut

CWO = currently working on

These works are my own and i do not give permission to repost, share, or rewrite these on other platforms.

masterlists !

FYI: for anybody wondering, no my requests are not strictly these shows/movies or characters, you can request whatever you’d like, these are just guidelines and characters i plan on writing for the most.

OBX

featuring - rafe cameron, jj maybank, john b routledge, pope heyward

SOUTH PARK

featuring - kenny mccormick, stan marsh, eric cartman, kyle broflovski, butters stotch, tweek tweak, craig tucker

BROOKLYN 99

featuring - jake peralta, charles boyle, rosa diaz, amy santiago

DAWSON’S CREEK

featuring - dawson leery, pacey witter, charlie todd, jack mcphee, cj braxton

DAZED AND CONFUSED

featuring - randall ‘pink’ floyd

WHIPLASH

featuring - andrew neiman

ANNE WITH AN E

featuring - gilbert blythe, jerry baynard

BIG HERO SIX

featuring - hiro hamada, tadashi hamada, wasabi, fred

BRIDGERTON

featuring - anthony bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, colin bridgerton, theo sharpe, simon bassett

CALL OF DUTY

featuring - soap, ghost/simon, konig, price, keagan p russ

CRIMINAL MINDS

featuring - spencer reid, derek morgan, aaron hotchner

ENOLA HOLMES

featuring - sherlock holmes, viscount tewkesbury

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES

featuring - raphael, donatello, mikey, leonardo

SAW

featuring - adam stanheight, daniel matthews

SCREAM

featuring - billy loomis, stu macher, ethan landry

HARRY POTTER/SLYTHERIN BOYS

featuring (harry potter) - george weasley, fred weasley, ron weasley, oliver wood, harry potter, cedric diggory, neville longbottom

featuring (slytherin boys) - mattheo riddle, tom riddle jr, enzo berkshire, theo nott, draco malfoy, regulus black, blaise zabini

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON

featuring - hiccup haddock

IT (2017)

featuring - richie tozier, eddie kaspbrak, bill denbrough, stanley uris, ben hanscom, mike hanlon

MARVEL

requests open for all characters!

MAZE RUNNER

featuring - thomas, newt (male + gn only), gally, minho

MID90S

featuring - fuckface, ray, fourth-grade

ON MY BLOCK

featuring - oscar diaz, cesar diaz, latrelle, jamal turner, ruby martinez

PERCY JACKSON

featuring - percy jackson, nico de angelo (male and gn only), jason grace, leo valdez, frank zhang, grover underwood

RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2

featuring - arthur morgan, john marston

SCHOOL SPIRITS

featuring - wally clark

SUPERNATURAL

featuring - dean winchester, sam winchester

STAR WARS

featuring - anakin skywalker, obi wan kenobi, din djarin

SHAMELESS

featuring - carl gallagher, lip gallagher, ian gallagher x mickey milkovich

TEEN WOLF

featuring - stiles stilinski, scott mccall, derek hale

THIRTEEN

featuring - mason freeland

TOTAL DRAMA

featuring - duncan, alejandro

WOLFBLOOD

featuring - rhydian morris

XMEN

requests open for all characters!

BALDURS GATE 3

featuring - astarion, shadowheart, halsin, gale, lae’zel, wyll

[asterias-record-shop]

—𓆩[house on the water (r.b.)]𓆪—

**I’ve literally been thinking about this since I watched the outfit. you don’t have to have watched the outfit, just know Dylan O’Brien is a fine ass mobster with a Jersey accent. slight angst, little bit of fluff, very toxic relationship (remember Richie is a guy from around the 50s raised in a crime family, he’s a bit of an asshole and misogynist but you change that later on) but Richie promises he’ll get better, definitely maybe a bit OOC Richie, mdom turned msub, I got carried away, most likely gonna have a part 2**

Richie had come in right before closing, as always. Leonard had stepped out because he wasn’t feeling well, which was odd because he almost never left, leaving you to take over closing.

You were busy folding the handkerchiefs that Leonard was way too anal about, but followed how precisely he liked to fold them into long rectangles unlike the previous secretary, Zoey. You were glad when she left, mainly because she always eyed your boyfriend Richie every time he came in. Especially with the fact that she always gave Leonard more work when she wouldn’t fold the fabric correctly.

You sighed as the bell rang, looking up as Richie and Francis came in. “Leonard isn’t here,” you say as Richie slipped an envelope into the box in the corner, Francis humming.

“Where is he?” Francis walks over and sits on the table as you quickly move Leonard’s prized shears, setting them on the separate counter.

“He didn’t feel well,” you explain as you set a stack of folded fabrics on the other desk. “I told him to go to the hospital.”

Francis grins. “You couldn’t take care of that, darling? Thought you were a nurse.”

You glared at him as you turned around. “I was a nurse, Francis. Didn’t keep my certifications up whenever my daddy got sick,” you say as Richie whistles. “Don’t whistle inside my work, Boyle, you will call the demons inside.”

Francis laughs as he jumps down from the table, quickly trapping you between the desk and him. “Aren’t we already inside, darling?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pushed him back. “You keep trying that, you bastard, I’ll have my daddy throw your body on the side of the road like the trash you are.”

He shoves you back, glaring. “You talk big until-”

Richie quickly gets between you two, cocking his revolver as he pressed it to Francis’ lower abdomen. “You better keep your fucking hands off my woman, Francis. I’ll fucking kill you.”

You start to grin, rubbing Richie’s shoulders. “Shoot ‘em, Richie,” you teased him, Francis rolling his eyes with a scoff. “Make him bleed.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Francis says as he walked out. “I’ll be at the house, Richie!”

You come out from behind him, watching as he uncocked the gun and put it back into the holster. You go to the fabrics, resuming to fold them up as Richie slowly comes behind you, hands settling on your hips. “What’s for dinner tonight, doll?”

“Whatever your maid is cooking up at home,” you say quickly, straightening out your dress before you grab another stack of fabrics. “You ain’t coming home with me.”

He rolled his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

You let out a laugh. “Why the hell should you? You haven’t come home for the past three days.”

“Hey,” Richie says, forcing you to turn around as he pressed you against the table. “You better remember who you’re talking to, doll. I paid for that pretty ass apartment you got right on the water, I can come home whenever the fuck I want.”

“Give me a number, Richie, I’ll fucking pay you back,” you hissed in response as he takes off his hat, pulling his gun from his holster to press it to your chin. This wasn’t the first time you had been held at gunpoint by Richie Boyle, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Pull the trigger, Richie Boyle, I dare you.”

He scoffs out a laugh as he cocked the gun, your hand pushing into your skirt Leonard had custom made for you with pockets. “You’re way too fucking bold for your own good, woman.”

You take out your own revolver, pressing it to his groin as you raised a brow. “At least I have bite behind my bark, Rich.”

He pauses, eyes flickering down as you do the same, cocking your gun. He huffs out a laugh as he uncocked his gun, trailing it along your jaw before tucking your hair behind your ear with the muzzle. “You’re so pretty, darling. It’s a shame your attitude makes me want to put a bullet in you.”

You roll your eyes as you uncocked your own gun, sliding it back into your pocket. “You’re such a charmer, Richie.”

He groans dramatically as he threw the gun onto the table, taking yours and doing the same. “You’re so bold, y’know that?”

“I think you forget I’m not one of those good little girls begging for a taste of bad,” you roll your eyes as you turn, grabbing your revolver that matched his, the only difference was yours had his name engraved and his yours. “You know I’ve been fucking gangsters since you were playing with yourself.”

He grins as he grabbed his revolver, slipping it back into his holster before grabbing a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and a lighter. “But I’m the best, right darling? I’m the one that can make you cum the hardest?”

You giggle. “Sure, handsome,” you say, taking the lighter and the cigarette he slipped between his lips between your teeth before lighting it. You take a long drag as his tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his lips before you blow the smoke into his face. “You can think that.”

He chuckled as he takes back the cigarette, doing the same you did before pulling your lips to his and blowing the smoke into your mouth. You hum, exhaling through your nose as he holds the cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers. “I know that, darling. I’m the person who’s got you clawing into the bed every night.”

You hummed. “Except for the past three.”

His eyes roll back as you push him off, grabbing the fabric and putting them in a box so they wouldn’t start to smell like smoke. “Don’t start with me, Y/N! I fucking hear enough from-”

“Don’t you talk to me like that, Richie Boyle!” You yelled at him, stomping over to take the cigarette from him and press it dangerously close to his Adams apple. “I’m not a fucking whore who will let you talk to her however you please. If you want to talk to someone like that, I’ll start packing my bags now and leave that fucking apartment you said you bought.”

It wasn’t a lie. He did buy the apartment, you just kept up with the bills. You made enough from Leonard and the monthly checks your father sent you, even being able to stowaway some as a keepsake. You definitely didn’t need Richie like he thought you did.

“Fucking do it. I dare you.”

You throw the cigarette to the ground, stomping on it with the tip of your heel as you turned around. “I’m fucking done with you, Richie Boyle. You think you can just come and go as you please and talk to me however the fuck you want? Think again, Richie, I’m not a girl you can fucking walk all over!”

He laughs. “Where are you going to go, darling? Hm? Don’t forget your daddy doesn’t own this town anymore, mine does.”

You turned around, gasping as he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his chest. “And you know what that means?” He grinned, leaning down, his smoke tinted breath fanning onto your lips. “I own everything in this town. Including you.”

You shoved him, fists clenching as you turned around. “Fuck you, Richie.”

“Where are you going to go, huh?!” He yells, following you through the tailor shop. “Look at me. Look at me!”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to turn around before your hand connected to his cheek, slapping so hard that the noise echoed across the walls. You gasped as his head stays facing toward the side, covering your mouth as he clenched his jaw. As much as it shocked you, you certainly didn’t regret it. “You better fix your fucking head, Richie Boyle. I am not an object that belongs to you, and I’m certainly not going to stand here and take your shit. I am not the cause of your frustrations and I’m certainly not going to be on the receiving end. Now let me go.”

His grip loosens as you walk toward the end of the room, grabbing your coat from the hook before slipping it on. “I’ll have my stuff out by the morning. Daddy will send people to get my things in an hour-”

“Y/N.”

You sniffled, wiping at your cheek. “We’ll talk about who will keep Kingsley,” you say, talking about your German Shepherd that you found on the streets. “But I doubt you’ll want him because you never fucking did anything for him. Daddy will send a car to get me in a few minutes, I’m going to call him.”

You couldn’t walk out of the room before he softly grabbed your hand, pulling you into his chest. “Doll, look at me.”

“No,” you say, attempting to push against his chest as you stared at the now insanely attractive ties. “Let me go, Richie.”

“Y/N,” he says, his other hand softly cupping your cheek to get you to face him. “I’m sorry.”

You inhaled sharply, those were not words you had ever come out of Richie Boyle’s mouth. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, stroking your cheek with a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, doll, I am. Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

Your eyes narrow, squinting at him as you shook your head. “I’m not dealing with your shit, Richie. I’m not, never again. I don’t fucking deserve it.”

He shook his head. “I know. I know, darling, I know. You don’t. I promise, I promise I’ll try,” he lifts your hand to his lips as you bite your lip, holding back a sob as he kissed your knuckles. “I’m so sorry, darling. I’ll be better. I’ll be better for you. I’ll come home every night, I’ll stay with you until you wake up, I’ll take care of Kingsley and let him onto the bed if you want. Just don’t leave.”

You shake your head. “You’ve said this before, Richie. I’m not going to be a fucking dumbass and listen to you again.”

“Why the fuck do you think I bought you that apartment, huh?” He snapped, the hand on your cheek going to hold your jaw. “So I knew where the fuck you were every night. So it was in my fucking territory and I can fucking protect you. Because I know you fucking love that stupid marina for whatever reason you’ve never fucking told you. Why do you think I want to do that, hm?”

You paused, looking up at him. He was so close. “You can’t even say it, can you?”

He scoffs, looking away before you tried to pull your wrist from his grip. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not going to be with a fucking coward who can’t even say three fucking words,” you snapped, trying to pry his hand from your wrist. “Let go of me!”

“Why are three fucking words so important to you, huh?!” He raises his voice before you gave him that look, oh that look that always put him in his place. “Why do you want to hear them so bad? Why does it matter if I say it or if I show it?”

“Because you don’t fucking show it, Richie!” You yelled at him, finally getting his hand off of your wrist before pushing him back. “You don’t show it or say it! All you do is come home, ask for sex, then leave! I’m not your personal fucking whore, got dammit! You don’t say it, you don’t act like it, for fucks sake, sometimes I wonder why I’m so fucking in love with you!” You inhaled deeply, covering your mouth. “I’m leaving, Richie, before something happens that we can’t undo.”

Richie licked his lips before covering his mouth, looking away. “You’re in love with me?”

You laughed bitterly before scoffing. “I was, yeah, Richie. Now I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m not going to fucking stay with a coward like you. You might be all strong and shit in every fucking area of life, but you’re a fucking coward in this one,” you grabbed your purse, turning around. “I’m not going to stay with someone who’s too scared to love.”

“I love you.”

You paused. Why did it take him so long to say it? Was it just because you were leaving? The fact that the great playboy Richie Boyle wasn’t going to get someone he wanted?

“I love you,” he repeats, walking over as you start to take off your coat and put your jacket onto the hook before putting your purse over it. “Y/N, I love you.”

“You should leave, Richie,” you whisper, turning around to cross your arms over your chest. “I still have work to do, and I’ll be damned before I let you push me out of my job.”

He walked over, slowly crumbling to his knees in front of you. “I love you.”

“Get up, Richie,” you say, trying to go around him before he grabs the back of your thighs and pressed kisses over your dress. “Pathetic isn’t a good look for you.”

It was a lie. Pathetic was an extremely good look on him. Everything was a good look on him, for fucks sake, he was Richie Boyle.

“You don’t think so?” He teased, rubbing your thighs down to your calves through your dress. “Thought you liked it when I’m on my knees.”

You scoffed, yelping as he pulls you flush against him. “Richie, I’m not dealing with your shit-”

“No more shit, darling,” he says, kissing at your hip. “I’ll show you. I promise.”

A gasp falls from your lips as he starts to lift up your skirt, bunching it up at your waist as his hands go to your pretty lace underwear. “You want me to stop, doll?” He asks, licking a firm line from your cunt to your clit through the fabric. “All you gotta do is tell me.”

“Fucking hell, Richie,” you whisper, covering your mouth. He always did this, always. You both had gotten into fights before, and they always ended like this: sex against the closest surface. Not this time though. “Richie, stop.”

He pauses, looking up at you confused. “Why?”

“Why must you ask why? You don’t need a reason, I told you to stop!” You shove him, going around his body as he rushes to stand.

“Hey! Y/N, don’t you walk away from me!” He quickly comes behind you, turning you around to press you against the table of ties. “Why the fuck are being so difficult, huh? I’ve done everything you’ve wanted!”

“Not when I wanted you to!” You yell back, the bell of the front door quickly covered by your shout. “You don’t try, Richie. I’m not going to deal with your childish antics like a little boy who doesn’t get the toy he wants.”

“You listen to me,” Richie says, voice shaking in anger as his hand grabs your jaw to get you to look at him. “I’ve been fucking trying the entire time we’ve fucking been together! Don’t tell me that I’m not trying!”

His yelling reminds you of whenever your father would yell at your mother before she walked out on him, immediately resetting his brain functions to where he found out how much he needed her and did everything she wanted to get her back. Your eyes were watering with tears just like hers used to, asking yourselves why you loved such a horrible man.

“Why aren’t you looking at me, huh? Don’t fucking-”

“Mister Richie,” a voice says, both of you looking to the side to see Leonard standing there. “I don’t… I don’t think it’s right for you to be talking to Y/N like that.”

Richie scoffs. “What’d you say to me?”

“Richie stop,” you say quickly, grabbing his jacket to pull him back to look at you. “I’m okay, Mr. Burling,” you smiled at Leonard, a sad, teary eyed smile. “I’m okay, Leo.”

“You hear that, old man?” Richie says as he grabbed your hand. “She’s fine. This might be your shop, but don’t forget who runs it.”

He looks at you, watching as you nod with a deep inhale. “I’m okay, Leo.”

Leonard shook his head. “You need to let her go, Richie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, old man,” he yelled at Leonard, quickly pulling his gun with your name engraved on it towards the older man, cocking it. “You want to talk to me like that?!”

“Richie, stop! Stop, please!” It didn’t click that you had your own gun, but even then, you wouldn’t be able to put a gun to Richie. “Just… just stop! I’ll do whatever you want, just leave him alone. Please.”

You quickly grab his gun, uncocking it. “Please.”

Leonard exhaled as Richie puts down the gun, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Let’s go, doll. I’m feeling pasta for dinner, sounds good?”

You nodded mindlessly, his hand resting in the small of your back before he pushed you in front of him. “I’m sorry, Leonard.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay, honey, I’ll see you tomorrow-”

“No you won’t!” Richie yells as he gets to the door. “Tomorrow is date day. And night.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the door slammed closed. “I don’t have my purse.”

“You don’t need it.”

“I need my coat.”

“You can have mine,” he starts to slip off his jacket, slipping it over your shoulders as he blew into his gloved hands. He fixes his suit jacket, slipping his hand into the pocket that lounged near your skirt to take out his cigarettes and lighter. “You want one, doll?”

You shake your head as he holds one between his teeth, lighting it by covering it from the blowing wind to make sure that it lit. He inhaled deeply as you bring the coat closer to your form, Richie’s hand settling back into the small of your back as he fixed his hat. “You wanna do anything specific tomorrow, darling? Can take you shopping, we can go out to breakfast-”

“Why are you acting like you didn’t just pull a gun on my boss?”

He scoffs, puffs of smoke falling from his lips before he takes another long inhale. “You don’t need him, or that stupid job. I Can support you on my own.”

“Why? So you can hold it over my head like you did earlier? No thank you.” You scoff in response as he shrugged.

“I could just make you quit.”

“Richie Boyle, you better fix- mhm!” You hummed loudly as he holds you hips, pressing you to a brick wall as he pressed his lips to yours.

Oh, you hated how addictive his kisses were. His smooth lips and breath laced with smoke, slick tongue pushing into your mouth as the cigarette holding hand cups your face and pulled you closer. “I wouldn’t make you do that, doll,” he says, smiling. “I know how much that stupid tailor makes you happy.”

“He’s a cutter,” you correct, shaking your head. “Not a tailor.”

“Whatever the fuck he is,” he says, taking the cigarette to his lips and inhaling deeply before blowing into the cool night air. “We should… invite him over for dinner one day.”

You shake your head, trying to push him off. “You say that now, but as soon as the time comes, you’re running for the hills.”

“Y/N,” he says sternly, stroking your lips with his thumb. “I’mma make you happy, doll. I’mma make you so fucking happy.”

You inhale shakily as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, the cigarette burning quicker than normal in the cold air. “Richie, I’m not dealing with your shit anymore. You got too many strikes.”

He shook his head. “I know, doll, I promise I’ll do better. I swear.”

You softly pat his cheek as he smiled at you. “You better, Richie Boyle.”

“I love you, Y/N L/N.” He says, loudly and confidently. “I fuckin’ love you.”

You giggled, stroking his hair. “I love you too, Richie Boyle.”

part 2 maybe?

© asterias-record-shop