#richie jerimovich fic

[the-hinky-panda]

The Hare Series: Part I

Title: The Hare

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Richie Jerimovich x Reader

Summary: You and your brother leave Ireland to open a pub in Chicago...just a couple blocks away from the new restaurant "The Bear." Connections are made and maybe The Bear and The Hare will help each other become successful.

Warnings: mentions of suicide

“So,” you set down a fresh pint of beer on the bar in front of the patron who’s been entertaining your patrons with wild stories for the last two hours, “how long has your friend been gone?” 

His good natured demeanor falters for a split second. “What are you talking about?” 

You had just opened the corner pub two weeks ago, around the same time that the deli down the block had closed for renovations. People who frequented the deli ended up at your business, including some of the people working on the restaurant. There were a few that you saw on smoke breaks that hadn’t crossed the threshold yet, but some like Fak and Angel, had shown up for drinks a couple times. Tonight was the first time that the tall, charismatic, blue eyed Richie made his way into the establishment. Two beers in, you figured out why. He and his best friend used to hang out here when the previous owner had it. Under new management, and Irish management at that, meant the familiarity went away with the sale of the bar. 

“Your friend, Mikey,” you wipe down the bar. “How long has it been since he passed?” 

“What makes you think he’s gone, Irish?” he counters, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and lighting it. 

“You just spent the last two hours entertaining my patrons with stories of the shenanigans you and he got up to in here. I figured if he were still around, you wouldn’t be here alone.” 

He laughs. “Shenanigans. Way to keep it authentic. The accent’s not bad either.” He rubs his forehead with the back of hand and blows the smoke out the side of his mouth. “You always ask personal questions to people trying to drink away their fucking problems?” 

“Only if it looks like the person needs to talk about their fucking problems.” 

“Well, I don’t. Thanks anyway.” 

“Fair enough.” 

You move away from him, cleaning glasses and snacking bowls as you move down the bar and talk to the other patrons. By the time you ring the last call bell, Richie has disappeared. You’re surprised to find yourself disappointed in his departure but closing up the bar keeps you busy until the last patrons leave. It takes another hour to clean the dishes, wipe down the bar and tables, and make sure the kitchen staff put the small kitchen right before they leave. 

With all lights off and doors locked, you start the short walk down a few blocks to the shitty apartment you’re renting with your brother as you work together to get the pub off the ground. Your commute takes you past the closed deli and that’s where you see Richie, leaning on the brick face, smoking a cigarette. The lights are on in the restaurant, dim behind the newspaper covering the window, so he must have come over to work on the renovations. The drywall dust on his pants and shoes confirm it. You cross the street and he nods at you. 

“Kick everyone out?” 

You smile. “The entertainment left.” 

He offers you a cigarette but you shake your head. “You gotta get better entertainment.” 

“We’re still working out some issues. Never opened a pub across the pond before.” 

“How many do you have over there?” 

“Two. One in our hometown of Thurles, another one down in Cork. This one,” you point across the street, “this is just practice for Dublin. Figured cutting our teeth in Chicago would be a good training run.” 

“If you can make it here…” 

You nod towards the newspaper covered windows. “Well, you’re certainly trying.”

“Trying. Yeah.” He drops the cigarette on the ground and grinds it out with his shoe. “It’s been almost a year.” 

You know the deli has just closed a couple weeks ago. “A year?” 

“Since my friend, Mikey, died.” He shoves his hands into his coat pockets. “It’s been almost a whole fucking year. I can’t believe it.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He gives you a serious look. “You actually sound like you mean that.” 

“I do.” You lean back against the brick wall next to him. “When I was nineteen, my little sister was killed in a car accident. I was bartending at our family pub and called her to come pick up our dad who was pissed and asleep in the corner. She never made it so I brought dad home that night and found out why she never showed. Some locals, drunk off their arses and joyriding, hit her.” 

“Fuckin’ drunks.” 

You nod slowly, remembering that evening when the family priest arrived with the police to tell your family the news. The wailing, the not being able to breathe, crying until there wasn’t anything left. Your mother pointing to you from across the living room. This is your fault. You called her. She would have been home if you hadn’t fucking called her.  Nevermind the fact that you wouldn’t have called her if your father had been sober. You clear your throat, shoving that memory from your mind. “Fucking drunks.” 

“Mikey shot himself. On the State Street Bridge.” 

“Fucking hell.” Suicide. Nothing accidental about that but the what ifs are just as brutal. 

“You can say that again.” He lights another cigarette. “I just keep asking myself, what did I miss? What if I had shown up five minutes earlier, caught him before he left the house. What if…I don’t even fuckin know anymore.” 

“You never will, dovey. Those of us left will never know.” 

You’re both quiet for a few moments, standing under the streetlamp in front of closed down Beef of Chicagoland, remembering Mikey and your sister, still running through all the what ifs that will never let either one of you go. Moments of silence are like that. They should be spent remembering the loved one and the joy they brought, but all they hold are your own personal failures. 

“So,” you break the silence, “I never did get to hear that voice message.” 

“The Bill Murray one?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh well,” he pulls out his phone with a flourish. “Can’t have you missing out on this piece of history.” 

And standing under a streetlamp in front of a closed down deli in Chicago listening to a voice message that could or could not be Bill Murray is how you fell in love.

[thecapricunt1616]

Nutmeg (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

𝒮𝓃𝒾𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓉 (𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝐵𝒯𝒞!): “Good girl” he praised as you closed your lips around his fingers, watching him as you swirled your tongue around them and bobbed your head making his cock twitch in his pants. “Such a little whore. Creamin’ in y’panties all day thinkin’ about me coming home and fucking you” he took his fingers and spread your lower lips, spitting on your clit and watching as it dripped down to the swell of your ass and disappeared.

♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Richie comes home after a long day at the beef & takes care of you! ♡ 𝐖/𝐂: 2.2K+ ♡ 𝐀/𝐍: I thought this was a request but either I already answered it & cant find it but this is Daddy!Kink with Richie I hope we all enjoy! ♡ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐓𝐂: D!Word (main kink in this fic!), Smut, Swearing, Spanking, Agegap!Relationship,The Beef!Richie, Not edited (we die like men here)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝐓𝐁&𝐇𝐇 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You and Richie had been seeing eachother for a good 7 months now. He was a good 12 years older then you, but you always loved dating men that were a bit older. They usually had it much more together and knew what they wanted, and they also loved taking care of their girls which was a must for any of your relationships.

He had given you the keys to his apartment, because he found out pretty early on he very much enjoyed coming home to see you on his couch watching one of your desperate housewives or dateline shows while you sipped on a glass of wine or two, or three depending how pink your cheeks were by the time he got in the door. 

Tonight was no different. Around 7:30 he called it quits and told Mikey goodnight, and when you heard his key in the door you were on the balls of your feet practically hopping to the door like a bunny. “Hey pretty girl” he said, dropping his keys on the hall table and wrapping his lean arms around you tightly, kissing your neck gently and giving you a loving squeeze. “How was y’day” he gives you a firm pat on the ass as he pulls away. 

“It was good. You smell like beef sandwiches” you teased, gently cupping the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. It was deep, and loving, and tasted like mint gum and cigarettes. He smoothed his palm up the small of your back 

“Mmhmm that’s why I need a shower” he said before pecking your lips one more time for good measure. You pouted a bit 

“No I didn’t say you smelt bad. Come snuggle stinky beef boy” you teased and he chuckled as you drag him by the hand over to the couch. 

“You know if I sit down you can’t get me back up unless it’s to bed so my stinky beef ass is gonna be all over you all night” he told you as you push him to sit and get settled comfy on his thighs, taking his chain out of his t’shirt and playing with it. 

“Who said I didn’t want that?” You rubbed your palm over his spiky short hair, kissing his forehead lovingly. “Did you have a good day?” You asked and he rested his head back on your hand, putting his hands over your ass and squeezing. 

“Same shit different day baby. I like these little shorts, mm? You should wear em’ more f’me when you come over” he plays with the glitter on the back of your ass where it read ‘PINK’ 

“Yeah?” You smiled a bit, gently tugging his chain. “I think you like anything so short it’s basically panties. That’s why I only wear em in the house” you joked and he hummed, reaching his hand under you and cupping your heat 

“You miss me today?” He asked in that quiet way that made your stomach flip and your heartbeat extend all the way down to your cunt. 

“I did. And I was sad when you told me you had no time for me this morning. Left me so wet. All day long. And I had work so I couldn’t even play with myself” you said and kiss just below his pulse point, he tuts, gently pressing down and rubbing back and forth over your clothed pussy. 

“I did that to my sweet girl? How rude is that mm? I should make it up to you, why don’t you lay down f’me princess” he said and you smiled as you did as he asked, lifting your hips so it was easier for him to slip your shorts and little cheeky panties off. The apartment was mostly dark, other then the glow of the TV and the light you always kept on above the stove- but neither of you could miss the dripping arousal. Just as he’d left you this morning, achingly wet and needy. 

You’d had a wet dream and by the time you woke up he was already in the shower for the day, and using your own fingers just made you more desperate. “Jesus - these are fuckin soaked babe, look at this” he scraped some of the creamy white arousal off of the fabric of your panties. “Open” he said and you did so, sticking your tongue out obediently. 

“Good girl” he praised as you closed your lips around his fingers, watching him as you swirled your tongue around them and bobbed your head making his cock twitch in his pants. “Such a little whore. Creamin’ in y’panties all day thinkin’ about me coming home and fucking you” he took his fingers and spread your lower lips, spitting on your clit and watching as it dripped down to the swell of your ass and disappeared. 

“Mhmm. Making a mess in my panties all day f’you daddy” you pull him to you, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for a kiss. “Are you gonna stretch me out with your big cock? Please daddy?” You asked in a sultry voice and he nearly groaned. Before he’d met you, he had no idea he had such a kink. But the first time it slipped out of your mouth he couldn’t stop himself from spilling inside of you within a few minutes. 

“So fuckin filthy” he pushed your hair back off your forehead in that gentle soft way that gave you chills, tucking it behind your ear and cupping your cheeks. “Get on y’knees. Wanna fuck your face a little first.” He said and you giggled in delight, getting on your knees in front of him and looking up at him with sparkly bedroom eyes. 

“I love sucking you, daddy” you said and stuck your nose in the fabric of his tented track pants, inhaling the heady scent of precum and a tinge of sweat from his long day in the kitchen. “Mm” you hum, eyes closing as you kiss his tip through the fabric 

“I can tell, practically droolin’ already hmm?” He took pulled himself out for you, tugging you back by your hair in his fist to look at him. “Open that pretty mouth” he said and you grinned, opening wide and sticking your tongue out, eyes closing. He took his cock and slapped your tongue a few times with it, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb as he thrusted into your mouth. You moaned at the taste of him, slightly salty and a tinge of sweet. 

“Dreamin’a’this fuckin mouth all day” he eases your head down inch by inch, relishing in the gagging and slurping noises you made when your nose brushed his pelvis, cock jammed nearly half down your throat. “Swallow-“ he pushed your head down further and you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing around him best you could and he pulled you off by your hair so you could breathe for a moment, gagging and coughing as his cock is pulled from your throat and strings of saliva connecting the two of you for a moment. 

“That’s my good girl, so messy, such a good whore f’daddy aren’t you” he said as you looked up at him while jerking his cock over your face with watery eyes and a drooly chin. 

“Yes daddy- only yours- wan’more” you said and opened your mouth, pushing yourself down and resting your hands on his thighs as you shut your eyes and tried to force yourself down how he did but gagging and pulling yourself back “I need help” you pout adorably 

“Aw, You need help baby? Here let daddy help you” he said in a nearly mocking tone and eased your head down, gripping your hair when your nose brushed the curly dark patch of hair at the base of his cock and letting out a grunt. “So fuckin warm and perfect - god. Second best to your cunt. Best fuckin feeling in the world” his head drops back as he essentially uses your throat as a fucktoy by pushing and pulling you off of his cock by your hair tightly pulled back in a ponytail in his fist. 

Filthy salacious noises were pulled from your throat, spit dripping out of the corners of your mouth and down your chin as he was surely bruising your esophagus but any time you eat and drink over the next 3 days you’ll be sweetly reminded of being on your knees for your favorite man. He realizes one of your hands missing and slows his movements of your head that he was still controlling as he follows it down. “Are you fuckin touchin’ y’self? Holy shit.” He pulls you off his cock 

“Have you cum yet?” He demands and you quickly shake your head 

“Just touching- promise. I stopped when it felt too good I swear” you said, hoping he wasn’t too upset. 

“Get up” he ordered and with the help of the couch due to your wobbly knees you stood, looking up at him. “Y’r a fuckin mess. You know that?” He pats your cheek “bend over” he ordered and you smiled, happily bending yourself over the arm of the couch and resting your stomach so your legs wouldn’t have to do all the work. “Tryna fuckin take orders at work and all I can think about is how you look on your knees chokin and droolin’ on my cock” he said as he lined himself up, thrusting into you. 

You whined hotly, gripping the couch cushion while he gripped your hips with a bruising pressure, again, instead of thrusting himself- using his arms to slam you back onto his cock, the wet loud sound of your skin clapping together filling the room, that and your porn-like whining. “F-feels so good daddy. Missed you- ah! - Missed you so much!” You cry out when his tip ruts into that spongey yummy spot inside, gushing white cream around his cock. 

He spread your cheeks in awe, watching as his cock pumped in and out of you surrounded by pretty white sticky cream “y’make such a mess mm? Such a nasty little girl” he spanks you hard enough to leave a handprint and you yelp, biting down on your lip to deal with the sting, your walls clenching around him on impact. 

“S-sorry daddy- just feels so good- you make me feel so good can’t help it” you gasp as he forces your legs apart further and starts to rub your clit, alternating between slow and quick circles that matched the force of his thrusts and the mix of that was causing you to see stars and drool on the couch cushion you were leaning on due to the fact that you were so slack jawed your tongue was nearly falling out of your mouth. 

“Look at that- fucked you stupid already and I’ve barely gotten through with you huh? Who else can fuck you this good baby tell me” he spanks you for your attention and you whimper, your orgasm not far behind 

“You- you - only you daddy, no one else I swear!! Please- please fill me up- cum in my pussy pretty please daddy” you whine out and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He groaned, leaning over you and wrapping his arms around your front, holding your tits steady as he starts to snap his hips faster 

“Yeah- that’s fuckin right I own this pussy- gonna fill you up princess don’t worry, I always fill up my favorite girl hmm?” He said against the shell of your ear, before giving a kiss to your temple. “You close Angel? I wanna feel you milking my cock when I fill up this tight fuckin pussy mm? Give you every last drop” he said and you felt your legs start to quiver, your toes curling into the carpet. 

Your thighs were painted with your white creamy arousal, neck was wet with saliva and spit. Every thrust was drawing a soft uh uh uh uh from your throat as he drilled you into the cushion of the couch, using one hand to play with a peaked nipple under one of his the beef shirts you stole from his laundry pile, and the other to rub your clit messily as he was so close to his own high. “C-cumming” you warn and within a few thrusts your walls were spasming around him, your eyes rolling back behind your lids and biting the pillow as you nearly scream ‘fuck’ 

“God- pussys fuckin suckin me in baby- shit-“ Richie breathes as he finishes inside of you, warmth filling your belly and core, a small smile filming on your lips. 

“So good- so good. Love you daddy feel so good” you ramble, completely fucked out.  “Love you babydoll, now I think we both smell like Italian sandwiches” he teased

Fin

[buzzcutlip]

Obsession Richie Jerimovich x Fem!Reader Explicit 400+ words A/N: This is not very happy tbh. It somehow reflects a strange mental place that I'm currently in. But - read it as lightly as you need - that's why it's so short :)

“I can only think about you. It’s fucking annoying.”

Richie’s breath is hot on your cheek, on the sensitive skin of your neck. He has you pinned against the stainless steel counter, right opposite the stove. Everything smells of cleaning products, and you’re worried about the fingerprints you’re leaving on the surface, marring the crew’s hard work. No one loves the evening cleanup. Or—maybe Carmen does.

The weight of the world lies upon your shoulders, and you’re crumbling. Your life seems like a departing train that you can’t jump on. Even your friends know something’s up, and you’d rather not see them than lie to them.

But Richie’s right here; he’s not leaving. At least not this minute. Your fingers scramble to grip his biceps, his shoulders. The cotton of his raglan t-shirt is soft and washed out. You like this piece on him. It makes his shoulders look extra wide, hips more narrow in comparison.

Richie’s hands find their way under your shirt, rough pads scratching the soft skin of your torso, adding to your want.

“Not—not here,” you say hurriedly. Someone’s gonna fucking touch something and set the place on fire or something.

You quickly dismiss fucking in the bathroom, thank you very much. Just. Gross. The place where you end up is by the lockers.

After getting your jeans out of the way, Richie takes his cock and presses the head against the seam of your pussy, where the wetness gathers. Then he slides it gently through the slick, watching it with wordless rapture, unblinking. He rubs against your clit too, making you twitch. Weird. You always thought that the moment Richie got access to a pussy, he would slam in right away. But he doesn’t. He kisses you some more, less dirty than before—slowly and thoroughly, a large hand holding your jaw in place.

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold on tight. The position is uncomfortable, Richie’s snappy thrusts jolting you against the metal lock that keeps digging into your back. You could have invited him to your place, but you’re embarrassed about the mess there. Tidying up has been at the bottom of your to-do list for weeks.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” Richie mumbles brokenly into your hairline while helping you stay upright. The words strike you like lightning—sudden, strong, and electrifying. A broken sob tears out of your throat, and Richie must feel how your pussy clenches. You don’t know what you’re doing to him, so you turn your face into his arm, biting on his clothed bicep to ground yourself, to silence yourself, leaving a wet ring on the fabric.

“I’m obsessed with you.” Should it unsettle you?

[richiejerimovichsblueeyes]

Thighs! Richie Jerimovich x female reader. 18+ MDI

Warnings- P in V, face sitting, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, light biting. I probably forgot something, anyway...minors you are warned.

Author Note- I just know Richie loves thighs. He would be so obsessed, and grabby. So, naturally I had to write out my little idea. Enjoy!

Friendly PSA-Reblogs, hearts, and comments make me do a little happy dance 💕

Request are open!!

Richie just loves your thighs…

•The way his big rough hands grip your upper thighs while you ride his cock.

“So good, babe. So wet, so tight. You ride me so well.

•He loves to nip the soft flesh with his teeth while he eats you out. His fingers work inside you to bring you to the height of pleasure. He loves the little noises and gasps you make when his teeth kiss your skin make him feel like he's a god.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. Your skin, and your sweet little cunt.” He whispers against your core. The vibrations of his voice causing the walls of your cunt to clench. 

•Those tight blue jeans always drive him wild. The way they sculpt your legs, thighs and ass. It makes him just crazy. Stirring his cock as you bend down to pick up something that he dropped on purpose….cheeky minx. 

“Gotta see you bent over for me” He grins while he enjoys the view of you bent over. Beautiful thighs, and a round ass.

•Whenever you wear a dress you pick one that hits mid-thigh. Because you know he won't be able to handle it. He'll have you pulled away in a restroom, the top of the counter at the bear, or a dimly lit corner. He'll be touching your thighs, his thick fingers sliding between them to find your soaked folds. Plus, a dress is easy access…and he goes absolutely feral when he realizes your not wearing panties. 

“Fuckin, hell baby. Such a dirty girl for me” He praises while his fingers glide over your swollen clit.

•His hands will slap and kneed your upper thighs as you sit on his face while you grind against his mouth. His hands, and tongue working in tandem to send you to the edge. He leaves no place left untouched. From the junction of your hips and legs to your ass. His hands slow and deliberate. 

“Just like that. Ride my face, babe.” Richie declares while your climax builds quickly.

•Richie just has to cum on all parts of you and your beautiful thighs being one his favorites. His release is painted on your thighs. After he cums he spreads around his cum with the tips of his fingers, taking a bit and placing two fingers between your lips for you to lick off the remains greedily.

“My good fuckin girl, takin my cum so good” He growls while he pushes his thick fingers in your greedy mouth. 

•You hate the way you look in this pair of shorts. Richie notices your standing at the full length mirror. He notices your frustration. His blue eyes meeting yours. 

“You look so hot” he says in a low growl as his tall frame stands behind you. His hands find your hips, rubbing them in slow sensual circles. 

“So sexy.” He says as he kisses a trail down your neck while he toys with the hem of your shorts.

“So beautiful.” He growls between kisses. “I think you're so fuckin’ gorgeous. I wish you could see what I see. I am absolutely in love with everything, and every part of you.” He whispers while he unbuttons your shorts. 

Soon enough you watch as he has your back pressed against his chest while he rocks his thick cock in and out of you. 

“Mine.” He grunts as you whimper and moan while he fucks you so good. “My beautiful girl.” You lean your head back against his shoulder. In these moments none of the noise in your head matters, just you and Richie. 

His breath comes out in labored gasp as he nears his orgasm. You feel his nails dig into your thighs as he pulls you back so he's as deep in your pussy as he can get. There will be marks tomorrow on your thighs reminding you how much he craves you, and how much he loves to show you that you are everything to him. 

[kdogreads]

Richie Jerimovich NSFW Alphabet

Co-written with the incredible @foreveraimingtowardsthesky

Thank you so much for collabing on this, my friend! It’s been a longtime coming but here we are 🤪😍

Enjoy this look into our wildest delulu fantasies with our bb Richie. This was a 50/50 project and still took us forever so please APPRECIATE IT 😂❤️

A — Aftercare

There is nothing Richie loves more than smoking a cigarette with you in his arms after he blows your mind. He’s trained to read people and you are no exception. He’ll help you clean up then he’ll cuddle you, or kiss you silly, or light you a joint, or brush your hair for you. Whatever you need this time, he’s on it.

B – Body part (favourite of yours and theirs)

Richie likes - no loves - your mouth. The way your lips close around a cigarette plucked from his hand, the wet heat of it when his fingers press against your tongue, how you open up so readily for him when you’re on your knees, the sharp indent of your teeth in your lower lip when you’re trying to be quiet.. Yeah, he could lose hours dreaming of your mouth, thinking of new ways he can make it his. Spit in it. Gag it. Have you clean him up with your tongue..

C — Cum

Richie can be nasty. He wants to cum on your face, your chest, your ass, literally anywhere he can. It’s his way to mark you as his without leaving hickies or anything, ever the practical thinker. His favorite by far, though, if you’ll let him, is to cum inside you. Chef’s kiss.

D – Dirty secret

Richie has fucked, or tried to fuck, too many short-lived staff at The Beef to mention. But that’s no secret. In fact, there’s really only one thing he hopes never gets out. Luckily for him, she feels the same way. Chalk it up to the effects of grief and alcohol, explain it away however you like, but if word got round? I don’t think her little brother would ever get over it.

E — Experience

Honestly, Richie doesn’t have a ton of experience with different partners, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t treat you R I G H T. He’s only had a couple relationships besides you and Tiff and maybe he brought home a girl from the bar once or twice before you. This man is a very, very fast learner, though. It doesn’t take him long to learn every little thing that drives you wild and he’s more than willing to experiment with what you like (always with permission first).

F – Favourite position

Richie wants to see. He wants to see his cock sinking into you. He wants to see your face when you come. He wants to see the rise and fall of your chest and he wants to see his hands on your body. Richie also wants to bend you over and fuck you from behind. He likes how it makes you whine when he pulls your hips back as he fucks into you.

So he fucks you on your knees in front of the mirror on his bedroom wall, drags his fingers through your gathered slick and rubs the mess across your tight little asshole, his thumb circling and circling and circling before pushing inside. Like this he can watch as he fills you up, and see your fucked-out face as you fall apart.

G — Goofy

Our Richie is a big goofball in every aspect of his life and sex is no exception. He loves being able to laugh with you and tease you while he’s inside you or eating you out. One day he gets it in is mind that you have to call him Mr. Jerimovich as like a demeaning/authoritative thing, but when you actually call him that, he cracks up laughing. Cannot keep a straight face for the life of him. “It sounds like you’re talkin’ to my fuckin’ granddad. Too fuckin’ weird for me, baby, m’sorry.”

If he’s had a rough day, though, and needs to take it out on you, it’s all serious. No jokes, no laughing, no teasing. He just takes when he needs from you — and of course makes sure you have a good time, too.

H – Hair

How well groomed is Richie? Richie is a low-maintenance, one-bottle-in-the-shower guy. He keeps his hair and his beard short, that’s his look. Once upon a time, he got clippers and a beard trimmer for Christmas, so he does this himself, and every so often the rest of him will get the trimmer treatment. He’s not super hairy but he likes how his dick looks bigger after. He’s only human, after all.

He’s clean, but not meticulous. He doesn’t mind things getting a bit.. dirty. And if you’re honest with yourself, you sometimes like him best at the end of a long day. A little sweaty, a little rough around the edges, his skin tasting like salt and cigarette smoke.

I — Intimacy

Richie the cuddle master, am I right? He loves physical affection and just being close to you. If you’re having a slow, sweet love session, he’ll hold your face and tell you the stickiest sweet things you’ve ever heard in your life. “You were made for me, baby. I was made f’you” and “You’re so beautiful, sometimes I can’t believe you’re mine” and “I love you so much my heart fuckin’ hurts.” Loves eye contact, loves holding your hands, loves loving you basically.

Talks you through it. Big time. He’s in his daddy era and he’s desperate for his baby to cum. 🥵

J – Jerk off

In a word. Yes. In the shower most mornings. It’s a Pavlovian response now. Routine. The hot shower spray. The steam. His hand wrapped round his cock.

But he’s seen the way your breath catches. When he’s knelt between your spread legs. When he drags it out just a little longer, his fist working over his cock as though he prefers it to your pretty pussy. How your eyes follow the movement of his hand as he makes you wait, how your tongue darts out against the softness of your lips..

Until finally - - You like watchin, huh? Your face had heated under his scrutiny, but you couldn’t deny it. And since then? Pictures. Videos. Whenever you’re apart for while and sometimes even when you’re not. His hand sliding over his hard dick, slow at first, then faster. You can hear his breathing, all the bitten off sounds he makes - - fuck. Sometimes it’s a piece of your underwear that he’s ruined, the sheets, his shirt. Sometimes come splashes hot against his tense belly. It’s insanely hot. It makes you ache for him. And he knows it.

K — Kinks

This man will shock you with just how freaky he can get. Choking, gun play, knife play, slapping, daddy/sir, tying you up/getting tied up, he’s into it all. Something you’ve always wanted to try? He’s down. It doesn’t always have to be super kinky stuff, though. Sometimes he’s in the mood to make love to you and, when he is, he’s the stickiest sweet lover you’ve ever had.

Once he discovers the the free use concept, it’s his favorite. “Don’t let me stop ya, baby. You keep workin’ on that,” while he proceeds to fuck you into a different universe. 🥵

L – Location

Anywhere. At the restaurant when everyone else has gone home (that reservations desk is his in more ways than anyone else knows). In his car, where there’s just enough room for you to straddle his lap in the driver’s seat. Up against the wall in some dark corner when he just can’t wait. On the couch, forgotten movie in the background. The kitchen counter in the middle of a lazy weekend breakfast. In the shower, the pretty noises you make bouncing off the tiles. In your bed. In his bed.

That’s probably his favourite. His bed. When you’re waiting for him at the end of a long day in his bed. Wearing his shirt. Your perfume on his pillows.

M — Motivation

YOU. Richie is such a romantic at heart and, if you’re his, he wants nothing more than to make you happy any way he can. He loves to hear you whine and moan for him or squirm under his touch. Part of him selfishly loves knowing he can make you feel better than anyone else ever has. He loves making you forget all your worries with his fingers or his mouth or his cock. He gets off just by knowing how satisfied he can make you.

N – No

It’s a short list, but anything you’re not into is at the top of it. You can also add to that anything too elaborate. Role play’s fine just nothing too fuckin weird alright.And he doesn’t need a red room of sex shit, doesn’t need whips and chains when his tie looks so pretty around your wrists, when his belt drags so nicely against your skin.

O — Oral

You mean Richie “could eat pussy for three meals a day” Jerimovich?? He LOVES oral. As much as he loves feeling your lips wrapped around him, he loves feeling you squirm under his tongue even more. He’ll have you pinned down with his arms begging him for a break at any chance he gets. Giving is his favorite, but he loves receiving, too.

He loves when you give him road head. Loves it. Only when it's late at night and you're alone on the back roads, though. He knows just what you're thinking when you reach a hand over coyly and scratch your nails along his thigh. A silly grin spreads across his face and he gives you a subtle nod to encourage you. By the end he's usually pulled over somewhere with both hands in your hair and a plan in place for when you get home...

P – Pace

He can go slow. If that’s what you need. He likes how he can feel everything when he takes his time, but it wears away at his self control and he didn’t have much to begin with. You like to ride him, achingly slowly, stretching his restraint as far as it’ll go before it snaps, before he grips your hips and fucks up into you, or until he flips you over and fucks you through the bed.

Q — Quickie

Are you kidding me? Richie loves quickies. Possibly his favorite thing in the world. Just finished dinner service? He’ll fuck you in the alleyway. Popped in to say hi while you’re running errands? He’ll bend you over Carmy’s desk. Even just going about your day at home he’ll come up behind you in the kitchen and pull you up onto the counter. Any chance he has to get you off he’ll take.

R – Risk

Is Richie a risk taker? Yeah. He gets a kick out of the possibility that the two of you might get caught. Actually no, he gets a kick out of you getting so fucking greedy and needy for him that you’ll let him touch you, let him fuck you, where anyone might see. His hand between your legs under the restaurant table, his mouth on your breasts in the cool evening air, your back against the wall and legs round his waist, your body pressed to the high rise window of the nicest hotel room he could afford. It fuels his possessiveness. You’re his and he wants everyone to know it.

S — Stamina

Richie isn’t as young as he used to be, but he uses what energy he has wisely. In his younger days he could go at it for hours, but nowadays his poor achey back can’t take more than one, maybe two rounds. He gets you off more times than you can count before he even thinks about fucking you, so don’t let his old age scare you.

Just because his body gets tired faster doesn't mean his sex drive has gone down, though, so don't you worry about that.

T – Toys

The first time Richie caught you with your favourite toy, he’d watched from the doorway with a dangerous mix of jealousy and want. You’d pulled the toy from your body when you saw him, but he’d shook his head and something in the look in his eyes made your mouth go dry and your stuttered explanation die in your throat. – - Don’t stop. He’d climbed onto the bed, sat back against the headboard and pulled you to his chest between his spread legs. - - keep going.. s’it feel good? .. feel better than me, huh? - - you’d said no, but he’d slapped your hand from the toy anyway, taking it from you and mimicking the movements he’d watched earlier, but harder, faster, more him. And he’d liked the way you’d surrendered control so easily, the way your head fell back against his shoulder, how your fingers twisted into the fabric of his sweats. And it occurred to him that he could keep this up for hours..

U — Unfair

Richie is a little shit… of course he loves teasing you. He’ll send you dirty texts all day while you’re at work and get you all hot and bothered. Then he’ll edge you for what feels like hours if he feels like it. He always leaves you satisfied after his fun, though, he is a gentleman after all.

When he first discovered what his "harmless" teasing does to you... Oh man. It's like he can't stop now. He'll pull you into the office at work just to whisper dirty things in your ear.

"You look real pretty tonight baby," He leans in to kiss your neck, hands wandering all over your body, "Fuuuck, you want daddy to take care of you, hm? Touch you? Make you scream so everybody knows who you belong to, yeah?" Swoon.

V – Volume

Richie has the dirtiest mouth in all of Chicago. He remembers the first time he’d called you his good fuckin girl. He remembers because you came hard and tight and wet before the words had barely left his mouth. Now he won’t fucking shut up. And you love it like that. But the best thing? There’s this noise he makes when he’s close to losing it. A filthy low groan as everything begins to unravel. It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

W — Wildcard

Richie definitely has a thing for public sex. The thrill of potentially getting caught, having to show off his pretty baby to whoever catches you… He can’t help it if he wants to show you off and make it clear just who belong to.

X – x-ray

What’s going on in those tighty whiteys? He’s not gotten any complaints. Well, no, that’s not quite right. He’s gotten loads of complaints. Just not about his dick. If he was the type of guy to be heading down the gym (although lets face it, he isn’t ) he wouldn’t need to be shy in the locker room, if you catch my meaning. Alright, alright.. it’s big. You happy now?

Y — Yearning

He may be in his 40s but his sex drive is stronger than ever. He always wants you. Richie is just insatiable sometimes. It’s like he can’t believe you are his to take care of and please whenever he wants to and he does.

Z – zzzz

He’s not even stayed awake long enough for you to read the end of this. Sorry. But let’s be fair, he’s a hard working guy and he’s had his fair share of sleepless nights. So you can’t begrudge the fact that he sleeps like an angel (an angel splayed across 75% of the bed, but still..) once you’ve both had your fill. Now roll him over before he starts snoring.

[pinkestofpanthers]

i wanna write for richie but i want to test out the waters and actually make sure people like what i write for him because i do have a work in progress for him at the moment...

besides the occasional game of uno, you did not play cards much. every single time someone tried to explain a card game to you, your mind went blank and you found it hard to follow along. and if there was another thing that was to be known about you, you could be a people pleaser at times. in part, it's the reason you're out in the back of the restaurant sitting on a milk crate. richie's right across from you, shuffling the deck of cards that he sneaks into his suit pocket for occasions like this.

this has become a ritual between the two of you. every thursday after closing, he calls over to you and mouths a "you down?". your response is always a big smile, which you didn't even think you could muster because of how late it always is. he grabs three milk crates. two serving as a seats for you and him, and one as your playing table. to thank him for always setting a seat for you, you bring two glasses of water out to the back.

it started on a particular thursday morning. richie strolls into the kitchen looking as giddy as you've ever seen him. he's waving around a box of bicycle brand playing cards and bragging about how eva won them in some sort of gift basket from school and she didn't want them.

"kid doesn't know what she's missing out on," he looks to ebra, who just clocked in for the day. "sometimes all i needed was a deck of cards. a good game of solitaire, rummy, even poker. won my first pack of smokes at fifteen from a game of spit."

"spit?" you looked back to the two men. you didn't even realize you spoke what you were thinking out loud. you catch richie's attention, and he lightly scoffs.

"you've never heard of spit?" it almost sounds like an insult coming from him.

"never even played. i'm not good with card games," you explained, smoothing out the small little wrinkles in your dress shirt. you had tried getting them out of your waitressing uniform the night before, but had no such luck.

"you know what? what about a quick game before we open? i promise i know this game like the back of my hand, i'll tech you in no time," he sounds so sure, like he could shuffle and deal the right amount of cards in his sleep. as you're about to respond, carmy busts out from the walk-in, yelling about how there's only twenty minutes to open and everyone should start prepping their stations. he motioned to you and richie,

"you two, get out front. and no card games!" he shouted, and you both mutter out a "yes chef".

"come find me after closing, i'm gonna school your ass," he whispered as he held the door open for you.

and that's how you're here, week after week without fail. you feel a bit bad because you haven't necessarily gotten the hang of the game yet, and you don't want richie thinking you're not enjoying yourself. just being in his presence, having him acknowledge you and take the time to really teach you how to play, it warms your heart. it makes you feel a way that you want to say is strictly platonic. you feel there might be something there for you two, but you just chalk that up to you being delusional.

you're so close to the end of your game. this is probably your fifth or sixth round, you seriously lose count every single time you two play. richie has three cards left and you only have two. you don't have high hopes because there's been times you've been left with one card and richie won regardless. you've only won two games, and you didn't really win them. richie just made you win, and that made you feel a certain way too.

you stare at his cards. he has one queen of hearts, a two of hearts, and an eight of diamonds. you have an ace of spades and a two of clubs. you could win, if the next card drawn made you lucky enough. richie looks to you, eyebrow raising and hovering his hand over the deck placed to his right.

"come on, hit me, richie!" you both laugh as he turns over the next card, revealing an ace of hearts. richie lets out an "ooh" as he placed down his two of hearts. that's all he can do, and you realize this is truly the game where you finally get your first real win. you start to laugh to yourself as you place down your final cards and leave richie stunned.

"holy shit," he blurted out, double-checking the cards you placed down to make sure there wasn't some kind of mistake. you hated the way it made you giggle, it made you feel like a little girl.

"you didn't make me win this time, did you?" you accuse him, making him hold his hands up in defense.

"i had nothing to do with this, sweetheart. did this shit all on your own," he chuckled and collected the cards and gave them one more shuffle. you never let him know, but you love it when he calls you that. you wish he would only call you that, but you know it's a term of endearment he uses on everyone. sugar, sydney, and even carmy (that only happens when they're yelling at each other in the back). you wonder if one day he could call you something else, a nickname he had just for you.

"now that you've gotten your actual first win, maybe we can try another game. i'm thinking blackjack next, but the cards are in your favor," he cringes at his own joke but you do find some humor in it.

"what about poker? it's a card game everyone knows about, i just don't know how to play it," you look at him and he nods.

"we can do that. i don't play it much anymore. i think last time i played was when me and mikey tried impressing this girl. she turned it into a game of strip poker, though," he explained, packing the cards back into their box.

"well, i wouldn't mind doing that," you don't know what came over you, really. your eyes widened by your own comment, you hope he thought you were just referring to poker itself, not strip poker.

"then we better move it somewhere inside, then. your place or mine?" he winks at you and you know you have him right where you want him.

a/n: please i hope this reaches the right people & my richie girls are able to enjoy this :) if anyone is interested in the richie fic i have completed like 25% of, let me know!

[lingersugar]

why does nobody write for richie do you guys hate fun be honest

[madwomansapologist]

hello! i saw you would like to write for the bear! would you consider writing yandere stuff for richie? tysm!

richie jerimovich being obsessed would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Richie Jerimovich | AO3

synopsis: You deserve better than him. Richie knows that. You deserve so much better, but the heart wants what it wants.

warnings: yandere themes. kinda tsundere, but still. actually unrequited hate.

note: please I need people to make icons of richie!!! i can only find the same two pics and they're not even that good. also thanks to your request my dear, hope you like it!

• Richie tried to ignore you. He really did. Richie tried so hard to not think about you. To not look at you. To not get lost on your eyes. To not burn his hand instead of cooking because he got distracted watching you working. Richie tried so hard, but he never was strong.

• Maybe he would be able to ignore you, if it wasn't for The Beef. If you didn't work there, if you wasn't part of his life, maybe Richie could've stayed away. Maybe he could've convinced himself that you weren't that important.

• So, unable to ignore you, Richie tried to push you away. Bossy, rude, impolite: he uses his face like a new clothe. If you didn't want to be around him, then you would free him from... From you.

• No one realized that he loved you. But he did love you. Deeply. Richie ache for you. No one realized that, and it included you. Richie expect you to back away, but he couldn't control your reaction: since the moment you understood he was an asshole, you decided to make his life a hell.

• He hates you, so what a better way to hurt Richie than to be constantly bothering him? Always cooking beside him, talking without thinking first, making sure to overstep so he can be uncomfortable. You really thought you were making something.

• Some way you really were torturing Richie, but not how you expected.

• Richie couldn't help but fall in love with the way you love cooking. How you can do it as a second nature, without even thinking about it. He loves to watch your hands, and you are always so close to him. Always arguing, screaming, fighting with Carmy because you are so sure of what you're doing. Richie don't even know the amount of times he got to redo everything because he got distracted on you.

• And he loves to hear you jabbering. To hear anything that passes your head. All Richie want is to know exactly what you're thinking, all the damn time. Your voice could put him to sleep, but he makes an effort to be concentrated on you.

• You didn't even noticed when he stopped being an asshole. Richie just understood that the universe couldn't help him. That the universe wouldn't have mercy on him. Because you deserve better. You deserve so much better. But if nothing can make you ignore him, then how could Richie ignore you?

• He didn't act. Richie didn't told you anything. He just accepted that nothing could stop him from loving you. Still wearing that angry facade, he took care of you. Complaining about how foolish you are, Richie makes sure you don't forget your coat on the way home. Bad mouthing his performance, he makes you take breaks to rest. Yelling at you, he made you start heading home on a safer path.

• And, for now, Richie won't act. Not while he don't deserve you. But he's working on that.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

THE BEAR TAGLIST: @flowercrowns-goodvibes @notanalienindisguiseblink @vyctorya

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

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[lovableapocalypse]

i want to write richie x berzatto!reader sooooo bad...

[thecapricunt1616]

Cherry (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Cherry juice is considered an elixir of immortality most often associated with the feminine aspects of beauty, sexuality and procreation. ♡ Summary: Richie has a hard time telling Tiff about his new GF ♡ W/C: 3.0k ♡ A/N: EEEEK I hope you all like Pt. 2 of Pink Pony Club!! Sorry there's no smut but if y'all really want a pt. 3 LMK!!! heheh, hope you enjoy! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Agegap!Relationship, Angst, Swearing, Smoking Read Part 1 ♡Here♡

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

Richie still hadn’t told Tiffany about you. It wasn’t that he was avoiding her, as he was picking Eva up at school on Friday evening and dropping her back off on his weekends on Monday morning. Alright, maybe he was avoiding her. That was because, on his time off, you were glued to his side, he wasn’t complaining, he loved having you around. He actually was the one who assured you stayed glued to his side whenever he got out of work, he made his way to the Pink Pony and picked you up - then headed back to his.

You had met Eva at the beginning of the month, easy to say that she fell in love with you at first sight. Your jingly dangly jewelry, the pink streaks in your hair, the colorful and whimsical tattoos you had, she told Richie “Daddy, she reminds me of a carebear!” the first time you’d met which earned a giggle and an honest thank you out of you. She was such a bright, funny little girl. She was also very sweet, and knew how to get what she wanted out of her dad which you highly respected. 

He had told you about Thanksgiving friends and family night at The Bear about 2 weeks prior to when it would happen. If he was being honest with himself he thought it would be a shot in the dark that you would even say yes and want to go, but to his earnest surprise - you were over the moon excited and told him you were honored that he’d asked, and gushed about picking an outfit and how you would do your hair. This made him both excited and fucking nervous because this meant he would need to really figure out what he was going to say to Tiff when you show up.

He knew that Eva probably had said something to her, considering how she couldn’t stop asking you questions when she was in your presence and complimenting your accessories and makeup - which probably meant she was gushing about you to her mom since if the girl had one hobby it was excessive talking. She probably got that from him, that was what you always teased. But now that the day had finally arrived, he was nervous that everything would truthfully go to shit, and that he would be left with yet another huge mess that he has to clean up by himself. 

When he woke though, to hearing giggles in the kitchen and the smell of coffee, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. He had never had the pleasure of waking up in an apartment that felt like home, but since you came around you had made that a reality for him and it was one of the things that he loved most about you. He sat up, rubbing his face before standing to stretch his tight back, and pads out to the kitchen to see you demonstrating to Eva how you stain your lips and cheeks with cherry juice. She was sat on the counter and you were stood in front of her showing her how.

“See so you bite, these ones are nice and juicy so they give great lipstick” you bite the tip of the cherry “Then you rub it where you want it, but don't forget to dab it in or you’ll look like Bobo the clown” you joke and she giggled, copying you and rubbing the juice on her lips and cheeks. “Beeautiful darling!” you said in an exaggerated french accent causing her to laugh even more.

“Lipstick huh?” Richie comes up and hugs you from behind, taking the cherry from between your fingers and rubbing some on his lips “how does daddy look mm?” He makes a kissy face 

“Beautiful daddy!” Eva tried her best to copy your previous accent “pixie promised she’d let me wear real lipgloss to dinner, right pixie stick?” She said and you gasp playfully, poking her belly 

“No! I said if daddy says that it’s ok, I will let you wear my clear lipgloss.” You told her and gave Richie a sweet peck before turning and grabbing one of the old mugs from The Beef and pour some steaming black coffee in it before handing it over to him. 

“Well if it’s clear then I guess It should be ok, thank you sweets” he took the cup gratefully and kissed the top of your head before sitting at the table with one of his little old man sighs. “She eat?” He asks and you nod. 

“Of course- she had toast and eggs. I didn’t wanna wake you she was up around 5, she’s an early bird. Hey Eva, how about we go get your shower all done so you can play until it’s time to get ready, do you want me to help you get it set up?” You asked and she nods 

“Can I use your pretty soap?” She asked and you giggle a bit, lifting her off the counter on to your hip and carrying her to the bathroom 

“Of course little princess, you can even use my special sugar scrub that matches mm?” You set her down on the floor carefully and started the shower for her, grabbing her a towel from the linen closet, and play clothes from her bedroom and setting it down on the bathroom counter. You made sure to check the temperature for her to assure it wasn’t too hot before ruffling her hair playfully “call daddy if you need help ok?” You remind her and she agrees with a hum as you shut the door behind you. 

“Y’good at the whole step mom thing” Richie says from the couch where he was now watching the news. You smiled a bit, walking over and taking his cup, setting it on the coffee table before straddling his lap and wrapping your arms loosely around the back of his neck. 

“Am I?” You gently rubbed the spiky short hair at the back of his neck and he rested his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there gently. 

“Y’good for er’, really good.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around your back and hands trailing down to squeeze your ass in your little black sofee shorts he loved so much. 

“You’re a sweetheart. Makes sense how she’s such a sweet little girl” you kiss his temple gently. “Is her mom still coming?” You asked. You weren’t nervous, you’d had boyfriends before where their ex wives didn’t like you, although this was your first rodeo with an ex-babymom so it would you assume be a bit different. 

“She is…” he said softly, in the way that let you know his mind was definitely somewhere else. Richie wasn’t soft, he wasn’t gentle. He if anything navigated his life something akin to how a bull would navigate a fine china shop. 

“You’re nervous baby, why.” You rub his shoulder gently and he shrugs a bit. 

“Eva’s been happy lately and Tiff…she has a tendency to freak out. I just…our custody agreement. I worry that she would use it against me if she doesn’t like who I’m dating and you’re the first girl I’ve gone steady with since the divorce.” He tugged your hips closer to his and you settled comfortably over him. 

“And you aren’t on drugs, you’re mentally stable, you have a nice apartment, you have a car. You are in a loving relationship, anyone around us can contest to how much we love eachother right baby?” You gently kiss over his face in the way that made him smile and blush, his pretty eyes fluttering shut. He always reminded you of a teenager when he did that. 

“Yeah, yeah. But guys aren’t favored as highly in the family court and all that bullshit. I know we’re both providing a fuckin stable loving home er whatever they call it. An’ she loves you, and you love her, and we’re one big fuckin happy family - but tiff can go and rip that up and just say- just-“ he sighed as you kiss the sweet spot on his neck, losing his train of thought. 

“What. That I’m a whore? I can show them my real estate portfolio. I own half of the club, they can’t prove I dance, baby.” You cup his cheek and plant a gentle kiss on his lips as you heard the water cut. “Eva is almost 10, baby. Shes gonna legally have her opinion soon enough on who she can live with. We just have to stick it through, yeah?” You kiss his forehead and he sighed, nuzzling his face between your breasts and breathing in your perfume. 

“Promise” he hummed into your skin and planted a sweet kiss on the skin as Eva loudly calls 

“DADDY!!! PIXIE FORGOT MY PANTIES I NEED PANTIES CLOSE YOUR EYES!!” At the top of her little lungs, causing you both to laugh. You got up, padding to her bedroom and grabbing a pair with Bluey on them and going back, knocking on the door gently 

“Sorry! Sorry pipsqueak! My eyes are closed daddy’s eyes are closed I got your panties can I chuck em’ to ya?” You giggled amusedly, covering your eyes with your hand and Richie does the same, chuckling to himself as he blindly sips his coffee. 

“Pixie! I can’t believe you forgot my PANTIES!” She squeaks dramatically, quickly opening the door, ripping the panties out of your hand and shutting the door quickly once again, clicking the lock which makes you giggle even harder at the thought a 7 year old needed ‘privacy’ 

“I know! Worst best friend ever EJ” you teased, a name only you gave her and she loved it. She said other girls in her grade didn’t have ‘letter names’ but the boys did, so she liked that she had a letter nickname. 

You sat back on the couch, shaking your head as you sip your morning smoothie “that one is a little you, a little girl Richard” you teased with a smirk and he nudged you with his knee jokingly. 

“Y’know she uh…” he rubs his nose “she asked t’be called EJ at school. Her ma was askin’ why. Another reason why I’m uh…nervous I guess” he admits, staring into his cup of black now lukewarm coffee as the weatherman goes on about todays high would be 42 and raining all day long. 

“She did” you look into your cup of ice coffee, the dribbles of condensation running down the glass. You swallowed thickly her mother likely didn’t approve. To which he confirmed that theory by explaining 

“Tiff asked if i was uh…” he chuckled “with all that woke non-binary shit. And that I was turning her into a tomboy and that it’s uh..not what it was when we were young. And that girls have to be girls, now. So..she got all pissed and said we gotta get her outta that.” He said and you swallow thickly. You had trans and nonbinary friends, so the thought of his ex wife not being accepting was a stab to the gut. And you knew her biases were strong if she was simply hounding on a name? You knew that she was not an accepting person. 

“Wow…uh…no she can have any name she wants, honey. I know you believe that cause’a’how your dad controlled you. Tell me you won’t force her to be who her mom wants her to be” you look him square in the eye. He swallows thickly, nodding simply and taking your hand, squeezing it gently as Eva comes out of the bathroom. 

“Nice to have panties pixie stick!” She chides, causing you to giggle. 

“A tiny Richard” you said gently and poked his cheek gently. It was a day of playing, and giggling, and reading books- until it was finally time to get ready for the night out. Richie put on his black work suit per usual, a handsome tie that you knew he’d be using to tie your wrists behind your back later when Tiff took Eva for her week long stint. 

You wore a babydoll, long sleeve dress, it was cream colored. It was also adorned with sage green floral patterns, and had puffy sleeves. You wore a beautiful sage bow, tying back your hair and simple makeup. Eva and you were wearing matching lipgloss, which by her attitude gave her all the attitude and confidence in the world. “Let’s do our affirmations, EJ” you told her, gently stroking her little arms and meeting her gaze in the mirror. She smiled proudly and nodded 

“I am beautiful, I am smart, I am strong, I am worthy, I am capable, I am able to do hard things, I am creative, and I lead my life with love and kindness” she repeats your mantra, while looking herself in the eyes and you smile proudly.  

“That’s right pretty girl, my pretty capable smart worthy kind girl” you kiss the top of her head proudly. “Now, do you want…” you dig around your purse and pull out the travel size Marc Jacob’s perfume you got for her with a kind smile “a fancy girl perfume?” You ask her and she gasped like you’d hung the moon on a string, taking it from you and looking at it closely. 

“Pixie!!” She said excitedly, spritzing it on her wrist and neck like she’d seen you do so many times before and dabbing her wrist to her neck to dry them down. “I smell like a lady! A real fancy lady!!” She said excitedly and jumps up and down in her little Mary Jane heels she had begged Richie to buy her. You laughed a bit, nodding happily and adjusting the little curls you’d made in her hair with a hot curing iron. 

“A real fancy lady” you repeated happily. “Go show dad!” You urged as you finished putting your earrings on and she clopped off. You hear Richie gasp and her squeal as she was picked up and kissed all over her face 

“Who’s this prettiest girl? Mm?” He joked, holding her like a koala as he went back to the bathroom and stood behind you. 

“Pixie is prettiest” she said and patted your hair, causing your cheeks to rush with heat. When you got to the restaurant, you were ushered to your table with you on one side and Eva next to you, and an empty seat sitting directly across from you. You assumed that was Eva’s moms seat, you ended up being right. 

“So this is uh… my girl, Tiff.” Your head popped up, standing and extending your hand 

“Nice to meet you! Tiffany, right? You have a beautiful girl, and so smart!” You gush, hoping to land a good impression. She looked you up and down judgmentally, eying the shortness of your skirt and the low bejewled cut of your shirt, before grabbing your hand carefully like you had some kind of sickness, dropping it before turning back to Richie with a unreadable look on her face. 

“Back porch!” She ordered and walked off with her glass of wine, the back door closing behind her with a slam that made you wince. He apologizes to you with his eyes, patting your bum as he headed out behind her. 

By the time he came back with her at his side, everyone had been sat for dinner, and your and Eva’s head popped up, staring at them. “All set honey” Richie said cooly, kissing the top of your head as he made his way back to the host’s stand, cracking his knuckles nervously and standing straight ahead. 

“Mommy, Did you see Pixie sticks pretty Carebear tattoo?” she asked hopefully with a big smile, and you nudged your foot with hers gently, giving her a warning look and she looked back into her kids order of mac and cheese without another word.

“Carebear, Hmm? How old are you?” She snips

“Old enough!” you snap back with an all too polite smile. “Plenty old enough, actually. I appreciate the concern, though honey” the rest of the meal was done so in silence, until it was time for dessert, when Eva asked

“Whats tir- tira-” 

“Tiramisu?” you smiled kindly, “it’s a coffee flavored italian dessert, do you like coffee?” you asked and Tiff scoffs

“Shes seven, should she like coffee?” she asked in an annoyed tone. You held back from rolling your eyes and shrugged,

“She likes, what she likes” you gave a poker face like smile and continue eying the menu even though you knew exactly what you wanted. By the end of the night, Eva was nearly falling asleep in her seat on your shoulder, cuddling your arm. Tiffany was more then happy to scoop her up in her arms when it was time to go home, giving you a glare. She didn’t even say goodbye to Richie, he had to chase her down when she was buckling Eva into her seat. 

“Tiff- Tiffany!” He jogged up to her car and she scoffed in a disgusted tone. 

“What. What?! do you fuckin want-“ she snaps, closing Eva’s door a little too hard that caused her to wake a bit startled and pay attention to what they were saying. 

“What?” He asked, holding Eva’s backpack that she forgot on his arm and she frowned, snatching it from him and throwing it in the passenger side of the car

“Go sleep with your new high schooler. You fucking perv” she hissed, shoving past him to get to the drivers side and slamming the drivers door. You had come out just as he watched her peel away, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, unsure what to do other than just watch. 

“Hey sweetheart” you hug him from behind, kissing the back of his neck. 

“W’never gonna get along.” He muttered

Fin

[buzzcutlip]

Hiiii... For your dialogue prompts could you do 'can't sleep?' or 'don't look at me like that' please?

You choose the character, whoever you think fits best.

Much love <3

Hi Amy, thank you for sending the prompt, here's one for you :) It exist in the Obsession universe (because I'm obsessed with it).

Prompt: "Don't look at me like that" Richie Jerimovich x Fem!Reader 1000+ words (happens in this universe, and after this - but I don't think you need to read it, however, it can be a bit vague)

Through the gaps between the guests' bodies, their shoulders and arms, you spot Richie. He’s shoving canapés into his mouth, the delicate, bite-sized bruschettas and caviar blini looking especially small in his long, thick fingers. It’s obvious he hasn’t eaten, which is typical Richie—he’s the “only coffee and cigarettes until midday, at least” guy, then grabs something quick, just to stuff himself with greasy fast food later in the evening.

You hate how well you know him, how hard it is not to notice his presence in Nat and Pete’s living room, crowded with close and extended family members, Pete’s co-workers, and of course, The Bear crew. Richie’s dressed in an unusual outfit—not a suit, but not his typical sweatsuit either. He’s wearing washed Levi’s and a dark gray henley.

You’d be lying if you said he doesn’t look good. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t still a little heartbroken over what he told you two weeks ago. This can’t happen again.

Petulantly, you don’t go over to greet him. Instead, you talk to Marcus, then catch Pete to congratulate him on the baby, handing him a card in a nice, expensive envelope. In the kitchen, you pour some fresh orange juice, bypass the alcohol, and cram as many ice cubes as you can into the glass. You don’t watch Richie directly, but you’re aware of his every movement.

Donna’s trying to shush everyone because Natalie’s putting the baby down in the nursery, which strikes you as funny—funny and ironic. You have little patience for parents who messed up their kids’ lives, whether it’s your own parents, Donna Berzatto, or the countless irresponsible people who should never have had children.

By the large window overlooking the garden, Richie finally approaches you. Small victories.

“What’re you doing?” His voice, once soothing, now grates on you.

That catches you off guard—it’s not what you were expecting.

“Celebrating the baby,” you reply, raising your half-empty glass of juice.

Richie scoffs, glancing up at the ceiling. It takes you a moment to catch up. He’s so simple, yet so complicated.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Richie warns, and you realize he’s noticed your constant awareness of him.

“Like what?” you play dumb.

“Like it’s all my fault,” Richie snaps, his voice rising slightly. One of the uncles turns to look.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you decide not to react. With so many people around, you don’t want to cause a scene. Under Richie’s heavy gaze, you leave the room and head upstairs in search of a bathroom.

Once you’ve freshened up, wiping the black mascara marks from under your eyes and reapplying your lipstick, you feel a bit better. But as soon as you open the door, Richie is right there, hooking his arm through yours and leading you into the nearest room—a guest room, from the look of it.

“What?” you snap, shaking him off and turning to face him.

“I wanna know what’s going on with you,” Richie growls, leaning down until your faces are mere inches apart.

The tension between you is thick, a mix of unresolved emotions and an undeniable physical pull. You both stand there, breathing heavily, caught between the chaos of the party downstairs and the storm brewing in this quiet room.

You can’t believe him. “What’s going on with me? You said things couldn’t happen again, but they did—once, twice. And it was you who initiated it.”

The weight of unspoken words and unsaid truths hangs heavily between you.

Richie steps back, half-turning as he groans loudly, covering his eyes with his large palm.

“Now you wanna pretend nothing ever happened?” you accuse, your voice sounding weaker than you intended.

Richie looks at you with an intensity that both excites and terrifies you. “Because it has to be that way. Fuck—I could be your dad. Jesus.” His hand flexes at his side, like he’s trying to hold himself back.

“But you’re not!” you shout. Richie steps back into your space, gripping your bare arm with one hand while covering your mouth with the other.

“There are people,” Richie hisses, his gaze flicking between your lips and your eyes.

For a second, you freeze, then you shake him off and step away. You don’t know this side of him—serious, cold, holding on to his façade as tightly as he can.

“I’m tired of never talking about it,” you say, shaking your head, glowering. You still call it “it,” avoiding the truth.

Richie frowns at you, his deep blue eyes searching for something. The noise from downstairs is loud—laughter, clinking glasses, doors opening and closing. It’s a wild new baby celebration, Berzatto-style. Better laughter than screaming.

A hollow feeling grows in your chest with each passing second. You’re afraid to speak up, so you wait for Richie to make a move.

“What if I said I wanted it?”

“Wanted what?” you ask, trying to mask the tremble in your voice, scared to hope that he means what you think he does. Would a man like Richie really give in? It’s never simple with him—his demons, his baggage, all the walls he’s built.

“If I wanted—this,” Richie waves between the two of you, avoiding your eyes.

Your stomach tightens. It’s not what you’d hoped for deep down, and a pang of disappointment hits you, but you knew this was coming. You step closer to him, your chest brushing against his. The magnetic pull between you is undeniable, and you know if you give in, it’ll consume you both. Maybe that’s exactly what you want. Friends with benefits never ends happily.

In the end, it’s Richie who reaches for you, kissing you with Earth-shattering force. His fingers, smelling faintly of olives, chives, and cigarettes, cradle your face, and you weakly cup his cheeks, feeling his beard under your palms.

You hear yourself whimper as your tongues meet, your eyebrows knitting together as your face crumples. You’re on the verge of tears. Maybe you are crying—Richie doesn’t understand anything, he’s so fucking stupid, and you can’t tell him, because then he’ll leave you and never come back.

The thoughts spur you on. You lead the kiss, desperately pressing closer, standing on your tiptoes, licking into his mouth, biting his lip. He grabs your wrists, as if he wants to say something, but you don’t let him.

Then a loud cracking noise from downstairs jolts you both, and you pull apart, fear of getting caught overtaking the need within you.

Your eyes are heavy with want, arousal pulsing through your body. Richie doesn’t look any better.

“Okay,” you say, though your heart flutters with a mix of anticipation and caution. “But if we’re doing this, it has to be clear—no more mixed signals. No denial.”

Richie’s eyes darken as he steps closer again, his hand trailing down your arm. “Deal,” he says, his voice low, filled with that familiar, irresistible edge. He leans in, his breath brushing against your lips. “We stick to what we know.”

[richiejerimovichsblueeyes]

Thunderstruck- Richie Jerimovich x female reader (18+ MDNI)

Summary- A thunderstorm rattles you awake. Richie helps you take care of your fear of thunderstorms, by distracting you in the best way possible. Richie is filthy, but also sweet and caring.

Warnings- MDNI, Oral (female receiving), P in V, and unprotected sex. I may be forgetting something. Let’s also just say that Richie is a filthy talker, which is again canon.

Authors note- Here is my first ever Richie fic! I hope you all enjoy. I plan to write much more. Including fluff, angst, and of corse more smut. I will be also taking request for Richie one shots. Lots of love! Alexandra <3

Word count- 1,962

My proofreading skills are not the best, so just a little fyi. There may be a few mistakes.

The loud bang of thunder jolted you out of your slumber. Rain pounded on the windows angrily. Usually, you liked a light rain shower, but it was storms like this that scared you. You shutter as another clap of thunder shakes the room. Pulling the blanket over your head you huddle under the covers to drown out the loud noise of thunder, and lightning. Richie was sound asleep next to you unphased by the vicious storm that interrupted your slumber. You let out a shriek at the thunder that clapped loudly causing the small apartment building to rumble. By now you were hyperventilating as the storm caused chaos outside. Ever since you were a child you hated storms, day or night. As a little girl, you would crawl between your parents in their bed for shelter. Now you are an adult, you shouldn’t need comfort from a storm, but they still terrify you, especially in the middle of the night.

Richie stirred slightly, but not enough to wake up. Rain continues to pleat on the windows falling angrily from the sky. A flash of lightning lights up the dark room and you notice the sky outside is tinted orange. Your heart starts pounding. You start hyperventilating as you reach for Richie, trying to pull him close for comfort. You felt him stir awake next you.

“I hate storms.” You said while you buried your face in his neck.

“I know, sweetheart.” He said with concern.

“I’m a grown-ass woman. I shouldn't be scared of storms.” You huff.

Richie wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you close to the warmth from his body that you craved.

"Hey, it's okay. You're allowed to need comfort from storms even as an adult. I'll be here for you, okay?" He said softly as he softly pushed your hair behind your ear.

“Everyone is scared of something, and you are scared of storms, and I'm scared of Carmy when something doesn't go right at the bear.” You could hear the laughter in his voice. You smiled at his comforting words, and his attempt to make you laugh. Richie stroked your back as the rain continued to fall. The orange glow outside gives the room an eerie, even spooky feel to it. The distant thunder and sharp lightning flashes make your heart pound even quicker. He senses your fear and reaches over to his nightstand to turn on the light.

“Fuck, the power went out” Richie muttered.

“Great,” you grumble. The flashes from the lightning are what illuminate his face, but otherwise, the room remains pitch black. The added darkness is not helping your fears of storms.

“Shhhhh. I’m here Y/N” Richie said as he gently pulled your face up towards his with fingers under your chin.

“I want this stupid storm to stop. I was sleeping so well too.” You complained with a shaky sigh.

“Mmmm…I know what might help.” Richie mentioned with a devilish glint in his blue eyes that got illuminated with each flash of lightening.

“Oh…” you grin. Richie was always really good at making sure you knew what you needed to make you feel better, weather it be cuddling, your favorite snack, or just a good fuck.

“We can do this.” He said in a low lustful groan as he laced his fingers to the waistband of your pajama shorts. The inside of your panties got instantly wet. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. Taking his time he inched his fingers downward towards your acing heat.

“I can feel how warm you are.” He hissed as he snuck a finger on your pulsing clit. You groaned as he rubbed small circles over your sensitive spot. His lips crashed into yours as he slipped a finger into your wet hole.

“Oh, baby. You're so tight for me, how about I do another finger huh.” He said between rough and sloppy kisses. The only response you could make was a shaky moan. With that, he dipped another digit into causing you to tighten around his long thick fingers. You rocked against his hand for him to hit the spot that sent you over the edge. The feeling was pure ecstasy. You had had moments like this a million times with him, and each time was as exciting as the first.

"Mmmm, such a good little girl for me" He cooed as his fingers worked quickly inside of your tight walls. Another crack of thunder clapped outside in the sky. You froze at the sound. This storm was brutal.

"This is a really bad storm," you whisper, your breath heavy and fast from the storm and the fact that Richie was fingering you. You were trying your hardest not to lose your cool from the violent storm, but you can’t shake the feeling of unease.

“Sounds like I need to work harder to get your mind away from the storm.” He whispered with his fingers still working slowly inside of you. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“Let your body relax.” Richie encourages with a sultry whisper. “Enjoy my fingers inside of you…I know you love this.” Richie says, his voice an octave lower.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” Richie whispered as he pumped his fingers into your tight walls faster and harder. The feelings became too hard to ignore, as the storm interrupted the night sky.

“So… so good” you moaned as he worked his pace even faster than before. The feelings overtake your body like a thief in the night.

“Louder, baby!” He demanded in a husky voice that made your knees buckle.

“Oh….ohhhhh. Richie Don’t stop.” You said loudly with a few erotic moans. The feeling was pure addiction as his fingers worked skillfully inside of you. He’d pull out to tease your clit before thrusting his thick fingers back in.

“Open your legs.” He groaned as he pulled his fingers out of you to center himself in front of your gaping thighs.

“I want you to scream as loud as you can when I eat out your little cunt, got it babe?” He lowers his head down to kiss your aching heat. You let out a gasp as his tongue runs from your clit to the opening of your tight pussy. He flicked his skilled tongue on your clit making you let out little whimpers.

“Louder, I can’t hear you over the storm.” He said between licks. With that you screamed as he pushed into your entrance, licking your walls and lapping up your wetness.

The flashes of lightning illuminate the room every few seconds allowing you to see his electric blue eyes looking at you with reassurance. The flashes of lightning illuminate his body coming in and out like a strobe light.

The familiar knot built up in your stomach begging to come untied.

“Mmm….my princess is gonna cum.” Richie teased as he stuck his tongue out to lick your clit in small circles.

“Richie!” You moaned as you gripped his head with your thighs as you bucked your hips up, grinding against his face. The friction from his short beard adding a delicious element to the already burning fire.

He pulled away with a wicked grin. “So tasty.” He purred as he licked his fingers clean. You ached for him.

“Why did you stop?” You whined.

“Cuz I'm gonna fuck this sweet cunt and pump her with my cum.” He growled as he lined up his rock hard shaft with your needy pussy. You felt wetness poll at his filthy words. There was no way you could be any more wet, but with Richie you were always extremely aroused, more than you had ever been with anyone else.

“Jesus, fuck!” He groaned as he slide into your pussy. You felt his girth split you open which caused you to gasp.

“So fuckin’ tight, every damn time.” He growled as he started pumping in and out of you. His cock warm and incredibly thick inside of you.

He leaned over you his hands resting above your head as he rocked into you. You adjusted your hips to the new angle, which cause the head of his cock to tease your g-spot. You let out a loud moan at the sensation.

“That's it, huh? Found that spot that makes my girl lose her mind” Richie said with a proud grin. With each thrust of his cock he rubbed against the spot making you inch closer and closer to orgasm.

You felt Richies hand reach down and grab your right breast under your tank. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. This caused you to throw your head back, eliciting a moan. You heard richie chuckle before kneeding your sensitive breast with his large hand.

“I want you to play with your clit right now, sweetheart?” He said breathlessly as he kept a steady rhythm. “Think you can?” He teased, as he noticed how blissed out you already were.

You nodded as you placed your fingers on your puffy clit. His cock rubbed against the tips of your fingers as he fucked your pussy. The added sensation made you pussy tighten.

“fuckin’ hell baby. Milkin’ my cock so good” He praised as he felt you tighten around him.

“Richie! I…I….” you panted as you tried to speak.

“What’s that sweetheart?” He mocked while he pumped his cock deep, knowing full well that this angle and movement would send you reeling towards climax.

“I….I’m gonna cum.” You managed to croak out. He growled and increased his rhythm. He leaned down against you ear

“cum for me! Let me feel that sweet cunt choke my cock” he said in a low whisper against your ear. His words sent you to a new height.

“Richie!!!” You screamed with vigor as you orgasmed violently. Your walls squeezing around his shaft, ecstasy washed over your body causing you to see white.

“Good girl…my good fuckin’ girl” He growled as he helped you through your climax. He sped up his movements, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“I'm so close sweetheart. Gonna fill up your sweet pussy” he said in a strained voice as you laid beneath him. Your body spent, but buzzing with the aftershocks of your release. You know his orgasm was near with the throbbing of his cock.

With a gutral roar you felt him stiffen, his cock pressed deep into you as his warm seed coated your inner walls.

“Fuckin’ christ baby girl” He said in a raspy whisper as he slumped on top of you. His lips peppering soft kisses againt your lips.

You smiled agsinst his soft lips. The subtle taste of nicotine and mint on his breath. You looked out the window and you saw that the storm had settled. Richie noticed your gaze.

“Storms passed” he said while pulling out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He rolled off of you and pulled your body tight against him. Your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat. You could smell his musky, and sweet scent on your skin along with the tangy smell of sex.

You both basked in the afterglow. A light rain sounded out your window. “Thanks, Richie” you said while kissing his forehead.

“No need to thank me babe. I'd do anything for my girl” He said softly.

“Next time a storm scares ya wake me up, kay. I have a few tricks up my sleeve” He added with a wink.

“Damn right you do” you chuckled as your forehead rested against his. Those beautiful blue eyes looking deep into yours, making the whole outside world fade away. Just the two of your lost in the afterglow.

[thebearer]

making the bed |carmen berzatto x reader| part one

prompt: carmen's stressed. food critics, a newborn baby, balancing work life and married life and now dad life; he's bound to break, everyone knows it. but no one ever thought he'd lash out on you.

or, part one of the devastation fic. based off this ask from the other day. two more parts to come.

contains: mega angst. mega angst, with no resolution in this part. hurt, no comfort (in this chapter, will be later in part 3). mean!carmen, very mean. mom!reader x dad!carmen with newborn teddy. fighting, language, carmen says mean stuff he doesn't mean. past mentions of trauma, family trauma, mikey mentioned. very angsty and a little heavy, please read at your own discretion. word count- 3.5k+.

"Are you ok?"

Carmen now understood why that phrase used to send Donna into such a blind rage, lips pursing and jaw clenching more and more every time he heard it. First at work, then with you, it felt never ending.

It was beginning to feel like critic season with how many were coming in, snooty and demanding to be impressed. It couldn't have come at a worst time, right in the middle of busy season with the start of the holidays. Days at The Bear were filled with frantic panic, running around, making sure everything was perfect, accounted for, and Carmen always had the sinking feeling it wasn't- that he'd forgotten something, messed something up. 

It wasn't rare for him to work himself up like this, a normal that you always warned him about, but he'd always had a solitude. As long as he'd known you, he'd had a place to go, to unwind, to let himself rest and reset with you. And he still did, it was just shared now with a newborn.

Dorothea Michelle. Teddy, for short. The light of his life, yours too. Nearly two months old with a set of lungs that sounded much louder, much more developed than that. Nights were long, sleepless, spent trying to lull Teddy back to sleep, awake even if he wasn't up with her. Carmen couldn't allow himself the selfishness to relax, to rewind, to "take it easy" like everyone told him to. At work, he was the boss; at home, he was a dad.

"Fuck, fuck," Carmen's sleepy stare was broken by a lick of bubbling heat, the lamb's roux popping with the high heat, splashing all over Carmen's chef whites.

"Jeff, c'mon," Tina clicked, shaking her head, moving the pan to lower heat. "What're you doin'?"

Carmen grit his teeth, snatching a rag off the stainless steel counter tops, scrubbing the burgundy stain, huffing when it only spread the stain.

"What happened?" Sydney turned, looking from the burnt sauce to Carmen's stained chef shirt. "Oh,"

"Do we have a spare coat?" Carmen huffed, throwing the rag down with a firm smack against the counter.

"I don't think so, Carm." Sydney shook her head. "You took the last ones home with you two days ago. The wine-"

"-I know, Chef, I know." Carmen snapped, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I-I can't fuckin' serve the critics lookin' like this. With shit all over me- fuck."

"Hey, easy, easy," Richie turned the corner, his hands held up. "What's goin' on?"

"Jeff got sauce over him. He doesn't have any clean clothes." Tina muttered, irritated that she had to fix his mess, more irritated that he wasn't taking care of himself. You have a baby, Jeff, you need to rest and take some time, she'd told him. Carmen only waved her off.

"Okay, okay, hey, that's no problem." Richie's voice raised, lifting over Carmen's. "You go home and change, get your spare, check on my beautiful goddaughter, and then come back with your A game. Yes?"

Carmen didn't even humor him with a snarky remark, yanking his coat off and stomping towards the office to grab his things. Richie and Tina looked at each other, shaking their head gently.

"Kids runnin' thin, T." Richie muttered with a sigh. "He's gonna break. It's gonna be bad."

"Yeah, he is. Gonna wear himself out before then." Tina shook her head. "Jeff needs a vacation." They both jumped at the slamming of the backdoor, Carmen's angry exit shaking the foundation.

"Needs to be fuckin' medicated. Fuckin' lunatic." Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes at Carmen's dramatics.

The drive home was filled with silence, Carmen's iron grip on the wheel, tearing through the traffic towards the house- his house, his home. 

Home, but it didn't provide the same comfort that it usually did. Carmen's shoulders still stayed tense, buzzing with rage, not dissipating when he thought of you, or of Teddy, knowing you'd both be there, excited to see him. 

You jumped at the sound of the car door slamming, peeking out the window to see Carmen's parked next to yours, furiously stomping up the front steps. You frowned, grabbing the baby monitor, walking towards the front door.

Carmen nearly hit you with how fiercely he flung the door open. "Woah," You reached for the door, stopping it before he could flick it shut. "Carm, don't slam it. Teddy's asleep. I just got her down." You frowned at him, shutting it slowly.

Carmen looked at you but didn't speak, looking through you with a rage that had your spine tingling before he finally broke his gaze, stomping towards the laundry room. "Carm? What’re you doing home? Don’t you have dinner soon?" You hesitated slightly, lingering in the doorway with an uncertainty you hadn’t felt with Carmen before. 

Carmen didn’t answer, his jaw still ground tight while he rummaged through the clean clothes, carelessly unfolding and shifting the folded clothes.

"Carmen," You said more firmly, caching his gaze. He didn't speak still, just stared at you- through you. "Are you ok?" You lifted a brow, features softening in worry.

Carmen paused, eyes closing, shoulders tensing in agitation. Are you ok? His ears rang, a familiar rage that he hadn't felt in years bubbling up deep in his chest. Frustrated and blinding and rampant, heat rushing through his veins, pulling himself further and further from reality into someplace different- someplace darker in his mind. 

"What's wrong?" You pressed, he could barely hear it, ears ringing at your question. "Did something happen? Did the critic come-"

"-Where's my chef whites?" Carmen barked, cutting you off, his chest tightening more and more with every heavy heave of his chest. You flinched at his tone.

"Uh, I-I haven't seen the whites. I washed your white tee-"

“-You what? Y-You what?” Carmen spat, eye widening with a wild, raged glint in his eye. Your stomach flipped and fell with fear, stepping back instinctively. 

“I-I washed your tee, Carm, that’s all that you left in the laundry basket-” 

"-Are you fucking kidding me?" Carmen boomed, his head spinning, body buzzing with rage. Your breath hitched, frozen in fear at the anger in his tone, the roar of his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing through your ears in a painful drum. 

Carmen moved, snatching the dirty clothes basket, dumping it into the ground with a shake until the dirty chef coat fell on top. He gripped the basket, flinging it across the room with a hard throw. The final push to his bad mood that sent him right over the edge, crashing into a pit of blinding fury, aggravation, breaking him from the inside out.

"Fuck!" Carmen roared, his voice shaking the walls, your breath leaving your lungs in a trembling exhale of fear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is- This is- Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” 

You tensed in shock, gripping the baby monitor in fear, maybe surprise, as it started to buzz to life with Teddy's startled whimpers. Her small cries pulled you out of your frozen state, something deeper than fear replacing the ache in your stomach. 

"Carmen-" You gaped, voice wobbling with uncertainty, taking slow shuffled steps towards the stairs. “Carmen, calm-calm down. Ok? Calm down.” 

“Calm down? You want me to fuckin’ calm down?” Carmen sneered, an angry red flush blossoming in splotchy deep hues up his neck, towards his cheeks. “You don’t do shit, nothin’ that I fuckin’ ask for! Just sit around all fuckin’ day an-and I’m supposed to calm down?” 

“Carmen,” Your voice wobbled, throat tight with tears, hurt and fear strangling your words. “I-You didn’t ask me to wash them. I-I didn’t know. They weren’t in the hamper-” 

“-I shouldn’t have to ask you to wash them!” Carmen roared, eyes so wide you thought they might pop right out of his head, neck vein protruding on exemplifying his rage. “You know what I’m going through! You know how much fuckin’ stress I’m under! I go to that-that shit hole, an-and work my fuckin’ ass off so you don’t have to! Then I come home, and I-I can’t even get a second of peace!” 

“Stop,” You hiss, finally regaining your composure, his words fully sinking into you  now, feeling the full effect of them. “I-I just had a baby. I’m still on maternity leave taking care of a baby- our baby, and I’m tired too. But I’m not yelling at you-” 

“-Oh, right. Right.” Carmen laughs sarcastically, humorless as he runs his hand down his face. It felt mocking, left you feeling small and too vulnerable for your liking. “Because in between your napping an-and feeding, you couldn’t stick a fucking jacket in the wash, right? You’re so busy.”  

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice, the way your voice shakes with emotion. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” Carmen scoffs, throwing his hands out. “I get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then I come home so I can go back and work my ass off some more, and-and you can’t do one simple fuckin’ thing? You can’t help me out? And then you wanna know what’s wrong with me? When you sit on your ass all fuckin’ day-” 

Teddy’s piercing wail pulls you out of your shocked trance, nose and throat burning with hurt filled tears you refuse to shed. Instead, you turn, climbing the stairs on shaky legs, the sound of Teddy’s cries growing louder and louder. Anchovy watches you from the top of the stairs, sensing the tension, your upset, sliding against your leg as if to comfort you. 

Carmen scoffs, hands buzzing and trembling with rage, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder with each of your footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He can barely hear Teddy’s sobs, hands threading through his hair, pulling at his scalp. He sees you walk towards the bedroom, quickly, hugging Teddy to your chest. 

“Oh, don’t go fuckin’ do it now!” Carmen roared, your ignoring him only infuriating him further. “It won’t be ready in time now. I’ll just look like a fuckin’ idiot for the critic tonight! Not that you care! Why would you, huh? I-I mean just our livelihood, just our fuckin’ income!” 

You swallowed back your tears, head tilting towards the ceiling, hands shaking with every shove of your things into the overnight bag. Just enough to get you through the night, the next day. A few essentials, Teddy’s spare onesies, a charger, your wallet- you stopped mid-shove of your items into the weekender bag, the sun’s rays catching in your wedding ring. Your heart fell, more and more, you weren’t sure how that was even possible. 

Carmen’s furious voice was still booming from downstairs, ringing and shaking in his furious fit. Richie and Sugar both warned you about Carmen’s tantrums, brought them up to embarrass him, tease him about it until he was red faced and hissing hushed threats at them. You never, never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be on the receiving end of one. 

You jumped, another slam of something Carmen had thrown, maybe hit in a fit of rage, causing Teddy to wail louder, Anchovy skittering nervously away. Tears leaked out of your eyes, twisting the ring off your finger, setting it on Carmen’s bedside table. Pulling the carrier out of the closet, Anchovy got in much easier than usual, which you were thankful for. 

Carmen was gripping the marble of the countertop when he heard you again, walking from the bottom of the stairs, quick steps towards the door to the garage, Teddy’s voice nearly hoarse from her crying. You kept your head high, tunnel-visioned towards your car, ignoring his heavy breathing and frantic pacing. 

“Wha-What are you doin’?” Carmen’s voice was softer now, still with a jagged edge that was cutting and harsh. The car door opened, the baby carrier hooked into the car seat. 

“Hey, wha- what are you- where’re you goin’? What’re you doin’?” Carmen’s heart dropped in a damning rush of hour, stumbling on heavy legs towards the garage. You ignored him, shushing Teddy gently, running a calming hand over her wet cheek, trying to coax her paci into her mouth. 

“Baby, no-no, no. Hey, no, I-I- What-” Carmen’s chest felt tight, mind numbing and racing, stuttering nervously. You reached for your bag, his hand reaching to grab the strap. “Whe-Where’re you-”

“-Don’t touch me.” You hissed, teeth bared, eyes shining with tears. Carmen flinched, pulling his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” You sneered, pinning him with a watery glare that had his stomach turning in sickening fear. 

“Baby, hey, w-wait-C’mon, d-don’t-You don’t, you don’t need to do this, ok? I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmen choked out the words, frantic and unsure, his hands shaking when they ghosted over you back just for a moment. Wanting to touch you, to hold you, to grab you and keep you from leaving, but too scared to. Instead, he grabbed the car door you flung open, holding it when you tried to yank it closed. 

“Let go.” You hissed, sniffling back wet, snotty tears of fury and hurt. 

“Please, don’t-do-don’t do this. Please, baby, I-I’m sorry.” Carmen begged, blue eyes deepening with the burning red hues of tears, bloodshot and lashes wet. “Don’t-Don’t do this-” 

“-I didn’t do this.” You sneered, leaving Carmen flinching at your words. “Don’t you dare try to say this was me. After how you just talked to me? The shit you said to me in there? You think I’m going to stay?” Your voice cracked with emotion, lips pressing together to keep a cry in. 

“No, no, no, no, no, baby, please. Please, ju-just come inside. Come inside, please? Please, don’t-” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. To say that kinda stuff to me. That hurt, Carmen. That was mean.” You glared at him, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re stressed. I don’t care what’s going on- nothing, and I mean nothing, warrants you talking to me like that. Just because you fucked up, because you forgot to ask me to do it, because you’re stressed out- I don’t care what it is. You don’t talk to me like that, say those things when I’ve been home all day taking care of my ch- our child.” You nod back towards the sniffling baby, whimpering and crying half heartedly, her little eyelids drooping with sleep that was interrupted. 

Carmen felt sick, his knees tightening in fear, he was sure they might give out, that he might fall to the ground right there. Looking at the tiny baby, lip jutted and shaking in the mirror hooked on the back of the seat, then back at you, eyes red-rimmed and glaring at him with a hurt filled anger. 

“Don’t-” Carmen’s chest shook, a white-knuckled grip on the door. 

Your own hand curled around the door’s inner handle, yanking it away from him. “Move,” You hissed, pulling again. 

Carmen wasn’t sure why he let it go, why he let you shut it, locking the door in case he tried to open it again. Why he let you pull out of the driveway, why he didn’t stop you, why he didn’t run after you, only taking soft shuffles down the drive like a zombie as you drove away. Standing in the drive, Carmen swallowed down the spit that pooled in his mouth, stomach churning, sure he was going to be sick. 

He managed to trudge back to the garage, mind racing and far away, the ringing in his ears dulling but still deafening. It felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare, a hallucinating trance that felt like a sick, sick dream- Carmen was hoping it was. That he’d wake up and find you next to him asleep. That he could hug you, pull you into him, nose buried in your neck, still warm from your slumber. 

As the sun began to sink low into the sky, minutes turning into hours that Carmen sat motionless in the garage, staring in a trancelike state, he realized that this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. No this was his reality, a horrific reality that he’d made into his own. Carmen sat, eyes trained on the concrete of the garage, voice racing and blending in his mind- his words, yours, Teddy’s cries, Natalie and Richie’s, flashbacks of his mother screaming fits. 

He didn’t move, frozen in chilling, eerie fear. What ifs and terrifying possible scenarios, consequences to his own actions that left him feeling sick, hands trembling. A spiraling of fears that only drug him deeper and deeper with every haunting replay of his outburst. Even the flashing of headlights turning into the driveway, filling the garage with light, didn’t pull him from his trance. 

“The fuck is he- Cousin!” Richie roared, laying on the horn. Carmen didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he heard it, only stared. Richie frowned, turning the car off, throwing the door open. 

“Cousin? Carm? What-What are you doin’? Dinner service started an hour ago. Syd is freakin’ the fuck out.” Richie threw his hands up, walking towards the man who still didn’t move. Richie’s heart skipped, flashbacks of Mikey flooding into his vision, parallels of the two brothers blurring before him. 

“Yo, Carm, you-you good?” Richie stepped into the garage, his spine tingling with icy fear. It was quiet, an eerie, unsettling quiet. “Cousin, hey, what-what’s wrong?” 

Carmen's chest rose and fell, tighter and tighter. He was suffocating, head spinning and mind racing so fast he felt light headed. He could barely hear Richie’s voice over the noise in his head, Richie’s hand shaking his shoulder finally breaking his trance enough to meet his eyes, rounded in fear filled question. 

“Carmen, what’s wrong? Is it- Don’t fuckin’ tell me it’s the baby. What the fuck is goin’ on-” 

“-She left.” Carmen’s voice shook, raspy and scared. His tongue still felt too thick, head still spinning. He wasn’t even sure he said it, Richie’s widening eyes the only thing confirming that he had said it. 

“What? Who-Who left? Who?” Richie looked around, like the clues might be there, sure that Carmen wasn’t talking about you. No, he wouldn’t- he couldn’t. Not you. 

Carmen’s breath hitched, a strangling of a sob caught in his throat, running his hand over his face. Richie didn’t miss the way it trembled, shaking even as it rested over his eyes. Your car was gone, the house too quiet, no baby Teddy crying, nothing but silence was left. 

Richie’s heartbeat crawled into a rapid, scared pace. “Why? Wh-Why would she-” Richie looked at Carmen, eyes wide but still, reading his expression. “No. No, Cousin, no. What-What did you do? Carmen,” Richie grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he met his gaze. “What did you do?” 

Carmen’s face began to crack, behind his eyes, Richie could see flashbacks of something- something he didn’t know what, but whatever it was, it was painful. That was evident by the fear that glossed over Carmen’s eyes, realization and horror. Carmen’s shoulders shook, frame rocking with a sob he tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Deep cries, guttural sobs breaking out of his frame, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, fingers curled and clenched around his greasy curls in agony. 

The damning realization flooded over him, that you’d left. 

You’d left, you’d taken Teddy, taken Anchovy- you’d left because he’d driven you away. His angry outburst, petulant, mean, hurtful- he’d been so cruel to you. You. His wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, the one person who loved him endlessly without stipulations or boundaries, the one person who truly understood him. 

And he’d driven you away. 

He wished he could blame his mom, his dad, his family for fucking him up so severely, maybe Mikey, even, for leaving him the shit show that was the restaurant, making his anxieties worse and fuse shorter. But sitting in the empty garage, Richie standing above him in silent shock, his sobs and angry sniffles echoing off the cement floor, Carmen knew he had no one to blame but himself. 

He’d fucked up. Really fucked up. Fucked up in a way that made all the other times look obsolete. 

Carmen had fucked up, and for once, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t avoid it, ignore it, deflect it like other times. Half hearted apologies and promises of change wouldn’t work, you weren’t here for him to even try to give them to you, and he didn’t know where you went. 

Carmen wasn’t sure where you went, how to fix this, why he’d done what he did, and a million other things that raced through his mind. What he did know, sitting in the too quiet garage, chest stuttering with heaving cries, was that he’d do anything. 

Anything, to get you back home. To make it right. To fix this and make it up to you. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he’d give up everything. Anything. His restaurant, his dreams, his hopes, his life, at this point, to make it up to you. 

[wtfsteveharrington]

something new | luca x reader

i was awoken from a dream last night

contents: requested size kink so luca is hung!! basically pwp, slight somnophilia if you squint, unprotected sex, spanking, lots of pet names from Luca, reader receiving fingering, dirty talk, semi-submissive reader vibes, pulling out for backshots but some cum play still whoops

a/n: used a photo of will bc it fit the vibe so well 🌝 can we, as a fandom, decide a last name for this man!! only semi proof read i fear pls ignore any mistakes. also no pronouns or real reader description used.

contents: 2.7k.

the climax right before morning's first light

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your body feels heavy as it’s pulled from a deep sleep. 

There’s warm lips on your shoulder placing soft kisses along your skin, a hand kneading at your ass while you wake up. You hum into the quiet room while burying your face into the pillow desperately not ready to wake up. “S’everything okay?” 

Luca’s chuckling against you, sliding his calloused hand up the back of your thigh while you stay lying on your stomach. He looks down at the sight of you illuminated in the moonlight from his apartment window, soaking in every inch. His hand cups under the bottom of your behind, giving it a little jiggle for his own entertainment. 

“All’s fine, my love. Didn’t mean to wake you so early.”

You turn your head towards the nightstand and it takes a few blinks for your eyes to finally focus on the dim clock. 3:30 AM. Early enough for him to get up to shower, make tea, and leave out a small note of affection on the counter for when you wake up at a much more reasonable time. He typically doesn’t wake you, opting to shimmy out of the bed but not this morning. 

There’s lips on your neck now. “Was dreaming about you and had to make sure you were real.” His hand is sliding in between your thighs now, pulling them apart. Inches away from where you’re starting to crave him. You’re whining in the pillow now while arching your hips up towards his touch. He’s grinning against your skin and rocking himself towards your side. Luca’s hard and heavy against you. “Gonna go take care of this in the bathroom. Just needed a little touch of you before I go.” 

You’re shaking your head now, trying to unpin your arm that’s trapped between the two of you so you can find the waistband of his sweats slung low on his waist. “No, no. Don’t go.” The elastic is tight against your fingers as you slip your hand into his pants, fingertips brushing along his growing length which rewards you with a moan from your boyfriend. His hand gently slaps down on the flesh of your ass before he starts to pull away. You murmur out protests as you stretch your arms out straight ahead of you, fingers curling around the edge of the bed. There’s a rush of cold air as he pulls the blanket from your frame and tosses it to the empty side of the bed. 

He’s grabbing a pillow next and tapping his fingers against your side, grinning as you take the hint and lift your hips for him. “Just lay there, Darling. Let me take care of you.” Luca makes sure you’re comfortable. Taking his time to fluff the pillow just right. Running his wide hands down your back while still lazily waking up. The bed creaks under the two of you as he moves to kneel between your spread legs. He admires your stretched out form. The curve of your ass propped up and his for the taking. You’re wearing an oversized cliche t-shirt from the last trip you took together and this old pair of underwear with a half worn off print. Not the sexiest outfit to ever grace this bedroom to say the least and yet Luca doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

His thumbs slide along the seam of your underwear that’s stretched across your cheeks, warm hands sliding up your backside to your lower back to gently work on your relaxed body. He leans forward to reach up towards your shoulders, the length of him sliding against your ass and eliciting a moan from you. Luca’s taking advantage of this position to rut himself against you, the feeling of your soft body under him working him up even more than he thought was possible. 

“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” You’re nodding against the pillow, turning your head to the side to press a kiss against the hands that are now on your shoulders. “Only yours, Luca.” He’s groaning above you and there’s warm, open mouth kisses being pressed along your spine now. 

There’s a shuffling coming from behind you as Luca makes quick work of kicking his sweatpants off. You feel the warmth of his skin directly on the inside of your thighs now as he sits back up. He’s crooking fingers in the waistband of your underwear and finally, finally pulling them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to him. They’re stuck right above your knees - Both Luca kneeling between your legs and how far spread open you are making it impossible for them to go any lower. “Are you passionate about these?”

You barely shake your head no, because again they’re old and worn and you find it endearing he even asked, before the sound of them being ripped off of you fills the room causing you to gasp out. Luca haphazardly tosses them towards the trash can in the corner and gets to work pulling his own boxes down. You’re needy. Wiggling your hips through the air in slow movements to entice him. As if he needed anymore motivation. You follow his guidance and haphazardly make work taking off your shirt, balling it up and throwing it on his now empty side of the bed.

Since Luca’s doing all the work you allow yourself to stay, essentially, half asleep. Your eyes are still heavy and hooded and your body lax against the bed. He’s delivering one more small smack to the roundest part of your ass before his fingers find their way between your thighs. Normally he’d take more time teasing you, building you up. As much as he yearns to spend the whole day tangled in you, he does have to get to work soon. For now he’s going to be quick but he plans on taking his time with you again tonight. 

There’s fingers sliding up either side of your folds, a slow languid motion to get you used to his touch before his middle fingers slips in. You’re slackjaw against the pillow, letting out a stream of breathy whimpers you can’t control. Luca knows you. Knows every inch of you. So he’s using that knowledge to get you ready for him. His pointer finger slides into you while his thumb finds your clit at the same time. You’re wet, the scissoring and dragging motions Luca’s making causing a slick sound to come from between your thighs. 

“Luca, please.” He grins down at your backside, enjoying the view of his fingers working deep inside of you. “Always so greedy, aren’t you?” You respond by rocking your hips back against his hand and clenching down against his fingers which causes him to chuckle. “Alright, alright.” His hand slides out of you and smacks down against the back of your thigh. Your left behind wetness from his fingers attracts the cold air and causes goosebumps to rise. 

You secretly like when Luca spends a little less time stretching you out then he probably should. The way your boyfriend stretches you out as he first pushes in you has become a piece of heaven. There are nights he spends as long as you’ll allow eating you out and fingering you, toying with your pussy for his own enjoyment. Leaving his chin wet with you and a darken spot on the sheets until he fucks through how sloppy he’s turned you. 

Not tonight. You’re wet, yes. But you know there’s going to be a heavenly burning feeling coming your way. The amount of care your boyfriend puts into you making you comfortable enough to open yourself in that way. Knowing he’d stop the second you asked if needed. 

The head of his cock sits heavy against your entrance and you feel yourself desperately clenching around nothing. He’s pulling you from your train of thought and your body is buzzing in anticipation. The slap of the tip of him against your clit causes your body to jerk which prompts Luca to use his free hand to grip your hip, holding you in place. “Be good, yeah? Let me get us off before I gotta go. Can’t have you wet all day waiting for me to come back home to take care of you.” Luca lines himself up with your hole, sliding just the tip of himself in which pulls a moan from both of you. 

“Baby, please.” Pride swells in Luca’s chest as you start to beg. If he hadn’t been gripping your hips then you would have rolled them back to take more of his length in you. Instead he goes slow, allowing you to adjust to his girth inch by inch. Even after dating for this long, you still weren’t used to him yet. 

There’s a bit of drool coming from the corner of your still parted lips as Luca works his length in. Your boyfriend was well endowed to say the least. A good length, something you could still take to the back of your throat but not so long you couldn’t sink all the way down it. But his girth? That was unmatched. Thick, heavy, and all yours. 

“Feel so amazing, Darling. Was dreaming about this pussy spreading around me.” Luca jerks another inch in without warning, a squelching sound coming from you as the movement causes some wetness to drip out. You can’t form a thought when he’s got you like this. Your body is still relaxed against the bed as Luca stretches you out. 

It takes a moment for him to bottom out and all your mind can focus on is just how deep he feels inside of you. The sensation causes your breath to catch, pathetically letting out whatever whimper you can muster and allowing him to use you to his heart’s content. Luca gives your hip a little squeeze as a warning he’s going to start moving, giving you a second to accept what’s to come before the first roll of his hips hits. 

You’re a mess. Groggy still, already becoming cock drunk. It’s easy to do with him. “S’full, Luc. So, so full.” Even with his brows knitted in concentration as he tries not to instantly cum at the sight of your pussy stretched around him, he’s proud to get you this way. 

But God does the sight of you already have him close. 

Stretched out around him, filled to the max you could be. You look so beautiful like that. Luca fucks through all the wetness you give him, hips building a steady rhythm easily. His eyes flash over towards the clock and something about the pressure of a time constraint is making him a bit more feral than he expected. 

His pace quickens and you’re back to being reduced to a drooling mess under him. Moaning out an incoherent string of pleas, praise, and curses. You couldn’t repeat what’s coming from your mouth even if you tried. His heavy balls slap against your clit which each thrust and Luca’s grabbing your hips with both hands now to get a better grip on you. Fingertips digging in enough that bruises will be left as he starts to fuck into with a firm pace. 

“Such a perfect fuckin’ pussy. So wet for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna be sore all day now but you don’t care. Every step’s gonna remind you how good I fuck you.” 

Your head is spinning. 

You allow yourself to be fucked by Luca, hands gripping the edge of the bed as you desperately clutch anything within reach to keep yourself grounded. He’s… Brutal. Fucking you for his own pleasure in a way. He needed to get off and get off quick before work - But arrogantly knew how good you were for him. Knew that him using you like this would get you off too. 

One of his hands gripping your hip loses his grip and there’s another smack being delivered to the fat of your ass. He groans at the sight of you bouncing, the red mark already blooming from his hand. The burning of being stretched out is fading away and being replaced by the pure pleasure of your boyfriend wrecking your body. 

His hand is sliding up from your ass to press down on the small of your back, a comforting touch compared to the brutal pace of his hips. Long forgotten is the sleepy mask of morning, Luca just chasing after pleasure for the both of you now. You purposely flutter yourself around his length, trying to pull him closer as well. 

“Can you come for me, Darling? You can do that, can’t you? Wanna feel this pretty little pussy finish before I do.” You’re squeezing yourself tighter around him now, the soft pillowcase feeling rougher as your face continues to bounce against it. The room is getting hotter by the second around you two. 

Something about the combination of circumstances has you getting close to finishing far faster than normal. You catch yourself biting down on the pillow as Luca drags his nails down the soft skin of your back, his hips not losing pace as the all too familiar sensation starts to coil up deep inside of you. 

You’re crying out at the sensation, pussy tightening around him as your orgasm rocks through your body. Toe curling, back arching, clit throbbing orgasm. You collapse even further into the bed, a mess of breathless whimpers as Luca continues to fuck through your sensitive body. God you sound lewd with how wet you ended up. 

Luca’s quick to follow after watching you come undone around him.  

He’s moaning out your name, giving a few more pumps through your wetness before quickly pulling out. Stroking his soaked length to keep the sensation and then you feel warmth splattering along your ass and back as he cums on you. He’s breathless and whiney, teasing his own overstimulated cock behind you. Thumb swiping along his tip to collect the last droplets before wiping it in-between your folds and pressing it into you. 

As much as he loved cumming in you, he wanted to make sure he had time to get you cleaned up before he had to leave but he still couldn’t leave you without anything left inside of you. 

Luca drags you to the bathroom after he gives you a moment to collect yourself. Normally he’d take his time with aftercare but sadly he’s lacking just that - time. You use the restroom while he draws the two of you a shower and take a good look at yourself in the mirror while he corrects the water temperature. Healing hickies low on your chest, your hair looking crazy from the combination of sleeping and being wrecked. He’s got twenty minutes left before he runs out of time to make his breakfast but he refuses to leave you in a pile in the bed. 

He makes quick work of washing off your over sensitive body, letting you stand there and run your fingers along his chest, his arms, whatever inch of skin you can reach. “You’re so pretty.” 

Now after what just happened in the bedroom? You’d think nothing would phase him. 

But Luca’s cheeks are going bright red at the compliment. He cups your face with his soapy hands, bringing you two together for a kiss as a silent thank you. 

Luca gets you dried off and sends you back to bed with a pat on your ass. He’s rushing to get ready for work while you lay down in a lump on the bed. Towel tight around your body and the covers long forgotten. It takes a few minutes for him to emerge from the bathroom clothed and hair gelled but he can’t help laughing at the sight of you. You feel the towel being tugged away from your body, the previously discarded blanket being tucked around you and a kiss pressed to the top of your head. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He leaves everything you need for your morning tea sitting on the counter before running out the door.

[etherealising]

a buried and a burning flame

part two out now!

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: constantly arguing with your student’s father wasn’t on your bucket list for this school year, but how can you stop when he just makes it so easy to get under his skin? based on this request.

warning(s): implied age-gap | misogyny | angst | make out session | heavy petting | dry humping | borderline exhibitionism | minimal editing |

wc: 11k

A wide forced smile graced your lips as you looked at the very obviously out-of-place man sitting in the small classroom chair that was usually occupied by the small bodies of your second graders. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for the line to connect, the last call went straight to voicemail and you were begging the universe for it not to happen this time as you felt the heat of the man's scowl sear into you.

“Hello, this is Tiffany Gattina speaking.”

You perked up as soon as you heard a greeting, “Ms. Gattina?” You listened as she repeated your name, relief flooding through you that you’d finally gotten ahold of the woman.

“Yes, hi it’s me.” You cringed at the immediate panic running through the woman’s voice. “No, no Eva’s perfectly fine, but there is an uh…Mr. Jerimovich here claiming to be her father.” You looked up, the man’s loud scoff sent a wave of irritation through you, the urge to roll your eyes growing the longer the two of you stared at each other.

Your attention was pulled back to the phone as you listened to the woman you were used to seeing during pickups explain their familial situation to you. “Thank you for clarifying, but seeing as he isn’t listed on her yellow card, legally I’m not allowed to let him take her off of school premises.”

The sound of Mr. Jerimovich releasing a disbelieving laugh caused you to grit your teeth, your body swiveling around so he was forced to glare at your back.

“Shit, okay I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You listened through the phone as Ms. Gattina shuffled around, her keys jangled as the line went dead before you’d even got the chance to say goodbye.

It was immature but you stood against the wall with the phone to your ear for a few minutes more, quiet hums leaving your lips to give the illusion you were still speaking with someone so you wouldn’t have to be subjected to spending too much time alone with the irate older man. The cold tiny fingers patting your elbow made you jump, eyes finding Eva’s small figure looking up at you as she waited for you to hang up the phone. A feeling of guilt raced through you as your eyes darted to her childlike smile, while you were here trying to avoid her father you were also avoiding Eva.

You felt ridiculous saying goodbye to a dial tone before moving to place the phone back on the receiver mounted to the wall, “What can I do for you, Miss Eva?” You smiled as her nose scrunched up watching as she waved for you to bend down so she could whisper in your ear.

“Is it okay if I go to the reading corner?” You let out a quiet laugh at her question as you stood up nodding your head and watching as her face lit up in excitement.

“Just remember to put the books back where they go.” You watched as she skipped over to the decorated corner, a smile lining your lips at all the work you put into making your classroom as inviting and comfortable to your kids as ever, but the thought slowly dwindled as you remembered why exactly she was here after hours.

A small sigh escaped you at the loud noise leaving the intruder’s phone followed by his equally as loud commentary, the sounds bouncing off the once quiet walls of your classroom made you want to scream. You walked to your desk opening a drawer and shuffling through the files in hopes that you’d find an extra yellow card. The universe was on your side as you pulled a blank yellow card out, smoothing the crease out in one of the corners. If this man was gonna take up space in your classroom, the least he could do was fill the card out so the two of you didn’t have to repeat this interaction.

You had to steel your nerves before standing up, reaching to pull a pen out of the cup on your desk before approaching the boisterous man with all the false confidence you could muster. You stopped in front of him clearing your throat to gain his attention and forcing yourself not to snap as he leisurely looked up at you before his gaze returned to his phone, you had to stop your mouth from dropping open at the blatant disrespect before composing yourself as he locked his phone and placed it face down on the table.

“Mr. Jerimovich-,” Your words were interrupted by the screeching of the chair legs against the linoleum eyes watching as the man raised to his full height and impeded on your space.

“Listen, sweetheart,” you raised your brows at the nickname eyes locked on his. “I’m just here to get my little girl alright. And there was no need for you to go snitchin’ to her mom and shit.”

Your eyebrows rose further up your face, eyes darting to Eva to ensure she wasn’t privy to this dispute, tuning out her father as he kept running his mouth. Your head snapped back in his direction as you caught the last of his tirade, his words implied that you were unqualified to even be a teacher.

“Listen Mr. Jerimovich.” You paused, sending him your most condescending smile. “Let me paint you a little picture, let's say I don’t know, corner store Joe comes up to the school during dismissal tomorrow points at that sweet little girl over there, and spins some story about being her uncle. Have I lost you yet?”

There was venom in your words as you watched him roll his eyes before nodding for you to continue. “I would be a shit teacher to send that precious girl off with the first person who tried to claim her. So maybe you are her father. I'm not taking that away from you, but until Ms. Gattina walks through that door and confirms your identity, I am not letting Eva out of my sight. Understand me?”

His eyes hadn’t left yours through your whole spiel, darting between them as he let your words sink into him, you watched on as he reluctantly nodded a feeling of triumph raced through you.

“Great, now you’re gonna sit back down and you’re going to spend the rest of the time you're here feeling out this information card, okay?” You pressed the yellow card and pen into his chest, your eyes falling to the “Original Berf” logo before looking back at him once more.

The cold metal on his hand brushed against yours as he grabbed the materials from you, the gold wedding band on his finger drew your attention, the sight of it intriguing you. You watched him in curiosity as he sat down grumbling words under his breath you couldn’t even begin to understand, your staring was interrupted as he shot you an annoyed look, eyes looking you up and down trying to figure out why you were hovering.

Irritation radiated off of him as he waited for you to take your leave, the glare in his eyes loud and clear that your presence was no longer welcome. You sent him one last forced smile before turning on your heels to utilize however long you were stuck with him to grade and go over lesson plans.

You stopped in your tracks as something occurred to you, the noise of your shoes hit the linoleum as you made your way back to him, “One more thing Mr. Jerimovich, don’t ever cuss in my classroom again.” Your words were punctuated by a saccharine smile, his lips rolling in as he repressed himself from saying something he might regret.

Teaching children right from wrong would always fill you with a sense of purpose, but having to deal with their asshole parents made you question your career choice more times than you’d like to admit.

The last thing you wanted to spend the end of your Friday doing was trying to play mediator between two grown men who couldn’t accept the faults of their children. As soon as you sat them down and began to explain the situation, you became the bad guy, and when they weren’t jumping down your throat, they were having a screaming match with each other, you only hoped Mrs. Monroe across the hall was having an easier time occupying the two children she’d agreed to keep company for the time being.

A lull in the screaming match allowed you to speak up. “I understand the urge to defend your children and while I respect it, please let me explain the full incident.” Neither man said anything as they looked at you, both of them giving off the impression that they’d rather be anywhere else than here listening to you.

“During arts and crafts time there was a bit of misunderstanding between Noah and Eva. I’m not exactly sure how it started as I was helping another student bu-,” You paused as Mr. Vanderbilt let out a disbelieving laugh, his hand waving off your silence to get you to continue.

Your fingers dug into the fabric of your pants as you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t just assault your student's parents, you cleared your throat before continuing. “Mr. Vanderbilt, your son threw a pair of scissors at another student. And while I’m sure you have more pressing matters to deal with, this is Noah’s third write-up this month.” You watched the agitation rise on his face, his mouth moving to form sentences before you spoke over him, “And regardless of his age, his actions fall under the category of assault, and as I’m sure you know this is a zero-tolerance campus.”

There wasn’t even a few seconds of silence between your words before the man spoke up. “I can assure you it was an accident and had you been paying attention to all of your students, I’m sure me and Mr. Jerimovich wouldn’t have to be here wasting our time.” You watched on in disbelief as his hands raised lazily to unbutton his suit jacket which probably cost more than your yearly salary.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to gather your thoughts in the most professional way possible whatever you had to say not seeing the light of day. “This child Ava, was she injured? If not then I really don’t see why I’m here in the first place.”

“Her names Eva you fuckin’ jagoff.” Mr. Jerimovich’s loud voice rang through your ears, and you could see you were once again losing control of the situation.

The more boisterous of the two men turned in his chair, his chest puffed out as though he was preparing himself in case this turned into a physical dispute. Your eyes bounced between them both knowing that Mr. Vanderbilt would be on the phone with his lawyer faster than Mr. Jerimovich could even throw a punch.

“Excuse me!” Your voice raised a few octaves, the overly polite persona you put on fading the longer you sat with them. “While the safety scissors didn’t break skin, there is a bruise on Eva’s collarbone. And you’re here Mr. Vanderbilt because Noah is prone to these outbursts and it’s gotten out of hand now that my other students are at risk of being hurt just because he may be overstimulated. I would appreciate it if you and your wife took the time to find the root of his problems, I mean no disrespect Mr. Vanderbilt but oftentimes this behavior usually begins at home.”

The sneer on Mr. Vanderbilt’s face was the last thing you wanted to see at that moment, you’d had enough experience with privileged and pretentious parents to know your Friday was just going to continue getting worse.

“They just let anyone teach our children nowadays don’t they?” His condescending smile was enough warning on its own. “Noah’s a great kid and listen I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but that’s just how boys are. I think the real issue at hand is the fact that my child’s education has been put in the hands of well…a child. Where did you say you received your degree from again?”

Indignation settled heavily in your chest as you watched a self-assured smirk paint his lips as he rose from his chair. “The way I see it, if you knew how to do your job none of this would’ve happened, I mean how hard is it to babysit a bunch of six-year-olds for a couple of hours?” You watched in silence as he stood to his full height, hands smoothing out his ridiculously expensive suit. “I’ll make sure Principal Pacheco hears about how unqualified you are to be in a classroom.”

The silence was loud as you watched him sashay out of your classroom door, eyes locked on his back the whole time mind racing with what you did in a past life to even deserve half the shit you were subjected to dealing with.

“What a fucking joke.” You jumped in your seat at the gruff voice part of you had forgotten he was there considering his silence, something that shocked you seeing how outspoken he already proved he was. “Asshole dad and asshole kid, am I right? What a fucking prick talkin’ to you like that, yo I don’t know how you put up with that shit.”

You blinked in rapid succession trying to follow his fast-paced words, your mind trying to figure out why he thought he could be so casual with you. You were snapped out of your stupor as he stood long legs leading him to the door, you pushed off the chair moving to meet him before he could step foot outside.

“Mr Jerimovich please wait,” he stopped his movements hand stalled on the door as he looked at you.

“Given the situation, I know it sounds a bit ridiculous, but Eva was also written up today.” You paused watching as his eyebrows furrowed.

“After the incident, while I was checking her for any wounds, she began to yell at Noah using…explicit language.” The man’s full body turned to you, his shoulders hunching over as one hand raised to swipe across his mouth, the sound of his incredulous laugh danced through your ears.

“Let me get this straight, some little punk ass kid assaults my little girl, your words. And you write her up because she says a few bad words.” You could understand where his irritation stemmed from, you debated just letting her off with a warning but then other students began repeating her words and the only way for you to help Eva understand the gravity of her actions was to give her consequences.

You began playing with the bracelet on your wrist unsure how much more verbal abuse you could take in one day. Your thoughts raced with the best way to go about this situation and somehow convince him to understand your duty as an educator.

“Between me and you, I don’t think Eva’s reaction was wrong, she’s allowed to feel whatever she needs to. But her response is where I had to draw the line, other students were repeating her words.” You hoped the look in your eyes could convey whose side you were on in this situation.

The man in front of you sucked his teeth as he shook his head, humorless laughter followed, “Is this the shit they teach at whatever fancy-ass little school you went to? She was hurt and probably angry, what the fuck did you expect from her. Listen, lady, I don’t know if you were raised to just roll over and take shit but that’s not how I’m raising my daughter.”

Whatever hold you had on your anger quickly slipped away as he continued speaking, “You don’t get to come into my classroom with your stupid little matching tracksuit and the smell of god-awful food wafting off of you and try to tell me about myself. And you also don’t get to insult my education and upbringing to make yourself feel better about the fact that the only impression you make in your daughter’s life is the string of curse words that constantly leave your mouth.”

He let out a real laugh this time, hands clapping the noise echoed around the mostly silent classroom, “So she can fucking speak up for herself, you’re just full of fuckin’ surprises! Why don’t you just teach my daughter like you’re paid to and leave the parenting to me, sweetheart.”

You weren’t sure when the two of you had gotten so close but you could feel his huffs of breath ghosting across your face, sure he could feel yours as well. It was a few moments of intense eye contact, neither of you wanting to be the first to end it, somehow doing so would be a sign of defeat.

“I would appreciate it from now on if your ex-wife or Eva’s stepfather was my only point of contact where she’s concerned.” Your words were punctuated by your eyes glancing at the gold band on his ring finger.

It was a low blow and although you didn’t particularly like the man in front of you, you knew that he didn’t deserve the blaze of your full anger. But you also didn’t deserve to be consistently disrespected for just trying to do your job.

You watched on a bit guiltily as his face dropped, his eyes darting between yours before settling into slits as he glared at you, his look of disgust making you feel like you needed to exfoliate the whole day away immediately upon returning home.

No more words were exchanged between the two of you. You watched as he turned back to the door to exit once again, his tall lanky body drifted across the hall collecting Eva. You stood in the entrance of your classroom lip tugged between your teeth as you watched them disappear down the hall. A guilty wave was sent to the small smiling child as she eagerly waved goodbye to you.

The classroom was all prepped and ready to go, the assortment of donuts were all lined up separated between vegan from non-vegan. Events like these always had a good turnout, part of you wishing these types of days were around when you were still in school.

You were nervous and while you wanted to believe it was because the school year was slowly coming to an end and you’d need to figure out how you were going to support yourself over summer break, you knew that some of the nerves had to do with being in the presence of a certain student's father.

Trying to occupy your racing mind, you double-checked that the coffee and hot cocoa were warm and ready to be served. You moved to the door of your classroom, eyes tracing over the ‘Donuts with Dad’ sign you’d spent all night making, chuckling at how much effort and creativity you’d put into something that would be gone in an hour or two.

You took your place in front of your classroom door, the time on your watch letting you know the main doors would be opening soon. Swarms of students followed by their father figures walked through the halls, your hand waving to greet the first few pairs to enter your classroom letting them know it was alright to help themselves.

The routine of greetings went on for a little while longer, you’d have to tamp down on the way your eyes constantly roved over the heads of other parents hoping to see the tall lanky figure that for some reason raced through your thoughts no matter how much he infuriated you. It had been a few weeks since the last spat the two of you shared and while he hadn’t stopped picking up or dropping off Eva, not that you actually expected him to. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other in the time between now and then. You weren’t sure what it was but as much as he annoyed the shit out of you, you found yourself missing the irritation he caused you, the way it felt almost fun to have someone push your buttons for the hell of it. It sounded insane the two of you had only met on two occasions and neither of them left a good taste in your mouth but you couldn’t help but want more interactions with him, it was finally getting to your head, spending every waking minute with children was finally pushing you over the edge so much so that you willingly wanted to argue with a parent of your student. Maybe it was time to take your friends up on that offer of a night out.

A parent calling out to you drew your attention, your eyes peeking into the classroom to see that it was pretty much full aside from the obvious missing duo.

The rest of your time was spent with each parent and student duo individually. Checking in to make sure they were all doing okay and answering any questions a parent may have had regarding their students' learning experience. You’d learned from Noah’s uncle who he’d chosen to bring that his parents weren’t as involved in his life as they should’ve been and that he was trying to talk them into getting him into behavioral therapy. You appreciated his honesty and you appreciated even more that he wasn’t quick to write off Noah’s behavior as him just being a boy but mostly you were surprised when Noah shyly handed you a letter of apology a similar one in his hand addressed to Eva.

After your rounds, you relegated yourself to your desk taking the time to answer emails and begin planning end-of-the-year activities, your eyes wandered to Eva’s empty cubby every so often concern sinking into you at her absence. There were about 30 minutes left before the adults would have to begin leaving, you were so engrossed in the pro and con list you made about working during a summer school session that you hadn’t realized the duo patiently standing in front of your desk.

The clearing of a throat jolted you eyes quickly flashing up, the surprise clear on your face. Your eyes darted between Eva and her father before your mind finally began working. “Eva! We were worried you wouldn’t be joining us today. There’s only about 20 minutes left but you're both welcome to enjoy some donuts and drinks.”

You pointed in the direction of the table where the refreshments were situated smiling at Eva as she eagerly bounced away. You were surprised to see her father still standing in front of your desk. The awkward air radiated heavily between the two of you, you could see his mouth opening and closing as though he had something to say but decided against it before turning to catch up with his daughter.

Focusing back on your previous task seemed almost impossible as your ears eagerly listened out for the heavy lilt of a Chicago accent, you didn’t want to seem too eager by approaching the duo so soon, but as the time on the clock continued to tick down you knew you’d have to get it over with.

Quickly standing you smoothed out your blouse before making your way to the table. They were situated at pulling up a chair of your own and trying to ignore the heated glare on the side of your head. “Good morning you two, are you enjoying yourselves?”

Eva’s wide smile punctuated by the faint whipped cream mustache helped to alleviate any lingering doubts that had settled within you. Reluctantly you turned to the only other adult seated at the table; the displeasure of you being seated next to him was evident across his face. You shuffled in your seat feeling uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze, “Is the coffee to your liking?”

It wasn’t much but you couldn’t sit and stew in the awkward tension forever, hoping that although you’d both made horrible first and second impressions of each other you could just let bygones be bygones. You drummed your fingers together as his stare stayed locked on you giving nothing away about his current thoughts.

“Ain’t nothin’ to write home about.” His shoulders shrugged in dismissal as he looked away from you, busying himself with the grade-appropriate decorations around your classroom.

Eva was none the wiser to the bad blood between you and her father as she continued munching on her donut, fingers making shapes out of the crumbs that now decorated her table. You twiddled your thumbs trying to figure out the best way to bring up your next topic of conversation.

You cleared your throat, gaining the older man’s attention once more, “Mr. Jerimovich, I’m not sure if you’ve heard but we have a field trip coming up,” there was no indication on his end that he was listening, just an unnerving blank stare trained on you. “Unfortunately one of our chaperones had to back out at the last minute, and I thought seeing as you haven’t joined us on a field trip this year you might be interested.”

His already too-big body hunched forward, his knee harshly knocking into yours under the table as he leaned into your space across the desk, his movements forced you back sitting ramrod straight in your chair. “Sorry sweetheart, I’m not too sure that’s a good idea and all ya know seeing as how you made it clear I’m a horrible influence on children. Wouldn’t want to corrupt anyone else’s kids.”

You bit your lip hard, the words you said to him all those weeks ago finally coming back to bite you in the ass. You had no one to blame but yourself and as easy as it would’ve been to go tit for tat with him in this moment, you were trying to be the bigger person and put this animosity between the two of you to bed.

A solid hand landing on your shoulder stopped whatever words you were struggling to string together. The unwanted weight caused you to look over your shoulder, surprised to see Noah and his uncle whose name you didn’t remember standing behind the three of you.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but I wanted to make sure Noah apologized while I was still here.” You subtly shrugged hoping he’d get the hint and remove his hand and luckily for you, he did. The sound of a grunt met your ears as your eyes flashed back to the initial pair you were speaking with. Eva’s discomfort was palpable as she held on to her father’s arm, the young girl not too keen on the turn of events, if she was uncomfortable then Mr. Jerimovich was downright murderous in the way he sized the other man up, an unnecessary brawl sure to happen if you didn’t step in.

“Eva sweetie, Noah wrote you a letter to apologize for his actions. If you're interested in accepting it that’s great, but I won’t force you to if you don’t want to.” She nodded shyly at your words as she looked at you, her eyes moving up to look at her father as they spoke to each other in a few glances only they understood.

You wished Noah’s uncle would’ve let you handle the situation how you saw fit instead of bombarding the poor girl, probably making her feel as though she had to accept the letter because she was pressured by his presence. Eva’s eyes found yours once more, a reassuring smile on your lips to assure her whatever decision she made was entirely fine. Her small hand reached out palm face up as she waited for Noah’s letter, the small boy hastily tossing it in her hand while mumbling a reluctant sorry under his breath.

The air was awkward as you waited for the intruders to leave a forced smile drawing to your lips as the man’s hand landed on your shoulder once again this time squeezing it a bit. You let out a sigh of relief when they returned to their previous seats, your thoughts not as jumbled as before as you turned to try and persuade Mr. Jerimovich of your offer.

“You know you got a lot of nerve talkin’ about the impression I make on my daughter, now you’re beggin’ me to save your ass and lettin’ that jagoff fondle you in front of kids. I mean if I’m a shit influence you’re shittier.” He finished his sentence by taking a bite of his donut, the crumbs catching in his facial hair caused your lip to curl up in disgust.

He was lucky Eva had run off to dispose of her trash and that the ruckus of parents getting ready to leave drowned out his words. “Need I remind you Mr. Jerimovich that you are in my classroom, a classroom full of children, and still you don’t have the self-control to control your cussing” You stood up dusting the imaginary crumbs off your pants, “Clean up your mess and make sure you have your life together the next time you step foot in my classroom.”

“Yeah whatever sweetheart I dunno what’s got you wound so tight, but you better take care of it before you end up bitter and alone.”

A sarcastic laugh escaped at the irony of his words, “Remind me again, which one of us still wears the wedding ring from their failed marriage?”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but arguing with him sent you on a power trip of some sort, your hand reached out to break a piece of his donut off before eating it, your own sad little war prize.

His glare was the most vicious it’d ever been as he watched your mouth work around the sweet treat, “I hope you fucking choke.”

“You too sweetheart.” Your smile was a borderline snarl as you moved past him, shoulder-checking him on your way to clean up any leftover messes.

Regret wasn’t something you experienced often but as you stood listening to the tour guide your shoulder bumping into the tall man next to you from time to time, his annoyed huffs of breaths meeting your ears, you realized that you were your own worst enemy.

When you arrived at the school this morning your excitement was at an all-time high. As much as you loved teaching your students it was nice to get out of the classroom and go on field trips, you also appreciated not having to teach for a day. So as you waited with the other second-grade teachers for all the students and chaperones to arrive you were sure nothing could ruin your day, but that all changed when you saw Eva walk up with her very smug-looking asshole of a father.

You hadn’t given it a second thought before you removed yourself from the conversation with Mrs. Monroe legs working overtime to meet up with the father-daughter duo before they could join the rest of the waiting group. Eva smiled brightly as you approached them excitement written across her face the small girl had talked about the trip all week.

“Good morning Ms. Eva, are you ready to explore the museum?” Her head nodded rapidly as she giggled, her hand swinging back and forth in the cage of her fathers, “Why don’t you go join the others while I have a word with your dad.” She nodded, squeezing her father’s hand before taking off across the parking lot to join the growing group of second graders.

Looking at the man standing in front of you, you could see your reflection in the stupid-looking sunglasses he wore, the both of you staring each other down. Your eyebrows furrowed as his hand raised in offering to you, your eyes darting from his face to the slip of paper he was holding out. From the color of it, you knew exactly what it was before grabbing it, the chaperone slip you sent home with Eva and asked to make sure her mother got it.

“You know Mr. Jerimovich, it takes a lot more than filling out a chaperone slip to chaperone a field trip.” You couldn’t help but rub it in his face, a part of you needing to antagonize the older man, to be the winner of every interaction the two of you shared.

His lips curled into a smug smile as he took a step closer to you invading your personal space. The fact that he hadn’t removed his glasses infuriated you, you didn’t enjoy the fact that you could see every emotion racing through your eyes in the reflection while all of his were guarded.

“That little lizard brain of yours sure doesn’t do a lot of thinking does it?” Calling you a lizard was so out of pocket it almost made you laugh, but you bit the inside of your cheek as he continued. “Mrs. Monroe was kind enough to help me through the logistics, bless her heart she also had some choice words about your chicken head ass but I don’t kiss and tell.”

Your arm ached as he rammed his shoulder into it while walking past you to join the group of waiting children and adults. You never hated a student's parent before but something about Mr. Jerimovich just made you tick, and if Eva wasn’t one of your students you surely would’ve ripped him a new one by now.

The conversation happening at the adult's table droned on, you elicited quiet hums in order not to be pulled into the conversation not too keen on making small talk with people you couldn’t care less about.

“Oh Richard, I’ve been meaning to ask about the restaurant. I went by the other day for one of those lovely beef sandwiches but the windows were all boarded up. I hope Michael’s death didn’t ruin the business.” Mrs. Monroe’s voice was laced with what some might call curiosity but you’d known the woman long enough to know she was just a nosey old woman trying to sink her teeth into whatever form of gossip she could.

You had no problem keeping your attention on the complimentary lunch provided by the museum, but then you realized who this mysterious Richard she was speaking to must’ve been and your eyes found the man’s face as he began speaking.

“Nah, just renovating trying to take the restaurant in a new direction.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin, eyes meeting yours before finding Mrs. Monroe to your right.

It was hard to appear disinterested, but it's not like he would willingly divulge any personal information to you. Not that you wanted him to but you couldn’t help but be a little bit curious about the man who raced through your mind every time you ran through hypothetical arguments with him.

“Such a shame that boys dead. A morbid way to go, isn’t it? Shooting yourself in the head.”

The liquid running down your throat came to a stop as you choked on the water. Your airways constricted because of the accidental slip-up, Mrs. Monroe’s blasé way of speaking had caught you completely off guard and now here you were fighting to get air in your lungs as her wrinkled hand patted you on the back.

Relief came soon after, your lungs gulping down the outside air like a fiend, your wide watery eyes locked on electric blue ones across the table. “I’m gonna check on the kids, would you mind helping Mr. Jerimovich?”

It was almost imperceptible but the look of appreciation that ghosted through his eyes was probably the only form of thanks you would get for helping him out of this situation. The two of you rose from your respective seats grabbing your trash before making your exit and stopping by the trash cans before beginning to make your rounds to check in on the students. The air was quiet between the two of you, and not in a comfortable way but more so suffocating.

“So you own a restaurant?” Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything but you weren’t sure how much awkward silence you could take.

You turned to look at him, the two of you stopping in a shaded area of the courtyard, the furrow of his brow enough to let you know he didn’t fancy making small talk with you. You let your eyes fall on all the children, watching as they conversed while eating, doing your best to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

“Nope,” his voice caught you by surprise, gaining your attention as he stared straight ahead. “I’m just some cog in the machine,” His eyes dropped to yours with little to no emotion scattered through them as he looked at you.

A tight smile lined your lips unsure of whether you should keep the conversation going or let it lapse back into silence. “I uh, I’m sorry to hear about your friend, he must've been struggling.”

His loud scoff proved that you’d chosen the wrong topic to fall back on, his body turning to you hostility lined his shoulders as he stood straight up. “You don’t know shit about Mikey.” The snarl decorating his lips was vicious, his eyes darted around your face daring you to speak again.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect it's just-,”

“Just what? Need more leverage to throw in my face the next time you have a little fuckin’ tantrum.” His words were full of anger, eyes lit up in excitement as though he was just waiting for you to bite, to latch onto the bait he’d set out for you.

And you took it just as easily, “A bit full of yourself to think you take up any space in my mind.” You crossed your arms over your chest as the lie left your lips, it's not like he needed to know that though.

He smirked the rise and fall of his chest brushed against your forearms, “You’re a fuckin’ liar.” His voice dropped an octave as his eyes darted around your face before trapping you in his gaze, “You wanna know how I know?”

You didn’t, but that didn’t stop you from nodding your head anyway, anticipation rolling around in your gut as you awaited his words.

“Because I do,” you frowned trying to understand what the hell he was trying to say. “I think about you and that bratty ass mouth of yours.”

His words were like a scrambled puzzle in your mind as your brain worked overtime to try and understand the exact meaning behind his words. It would’ve been presumptuous to believe he meant them in the way your brain was screaming he did, but what else could it mean when a man told you he thought about you?

The sound of a child crying pulled you from your stupor, dissipating whatever tension had risen between you and the man in your personal space. You wanted to say something, needed to say something but it's like your brain had turned to mush, no thoughts made any sense, no sentence structures that could live up to the words he just told you.

So you left. Turned on your heels to find the student whose wails had only grown louder and hoped your brain would return to its default settings sometime soon. Although you knew you would ruminate on his words long after today.

The time on your dashboard told you it was five minutes past the time you agreed upon for the reservation and if you sat in your car any longer your date would consider you a no-show. You sighed grabbing your clutch and keys off of the passenger seat before slowly exiting the car, a part of you wanting to just drive home and forget this ever happened.

Initially, you hadn’t planned on accepting his offer of dinner, not usually one to mix your professional life with your social life, but upon realizing how long it had been since your last date you figured accepting the invite would be harmless.

Taking one last look in the reflection on your window you steeled your nerves and made your way to the entrance of the restaurant. One last deep breath rattled your lungs before you opened the door and let the delicious aroma of food attack your senses. Upon entering you were immediately greeted by who you assumed to be a host.

“Welcome to The Bear do you have a reservation?” You stared blankly at the man in front of you eyes occupied with tracing the few patches of ink that were visible on his skin, you could tell you were making him uncomfortable as he began fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket.

Your eyes found his once more an apologetic smile on your lips, “Yeah, sorry uh I think the reservations under Vanderbilt? I’m meeting someone.”

The man stood across from you nodding eyes falling to the reservation book on the podium, his finger tracing the name before looking up at you once more. “Right this way m’lady.” He did a mock bow motioning for you to follow behind him, his actions getting a quiet laugh out of you.

You followed him through the maze of tables eyeing the other patrons as you passed them before coming to a stop. A quiet thank you passed between you and the host as he gracefully pulled your chair out for you before letting you know they’d be back to take your order shortly. You watched as he walked off, not ready to be left alone on your first date in months.

“Was starting to think you might not show.” Beau’s words tore you from your thoughts as your eyes flashed to his, an apologetic smile lined your lips.

You tried not to fiddle with your hands, moving them from atop the table to settle in your lap, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

He waved your words off as though you could’ve been an hour late and he wouldn’t have minded, “Have you been here before? It's fairly new but I think it used to be a sandwich place, the head chef’s some bigshot from New York.”

Quiet hums escaped you at his explanation, you would’ve never come to this restaurant of your own volition, the aesthetics were beautiful, and having only been here for a few minutes you already found it comforting. But your salary wasn’t designed to be spent on an establishment such as this.

“No, this is my first time.” The casual conversation was helping to steel any leftover nerves you had

“Well, I hope I can make it worth it.” He was charming, to say the least, you’d give him that, his words drawing a small smile out of you, maybe this would go better than you expected.

The two of you engaged in small talk a few minutes more discussing which entrees the both of you were thinking about getting before you were finally interrupted.

“Well aren’t the two of you just a handsome couple please forgive my forwardness but you complement each other exceptionally well.” The words were spoken from behind you, you had to stop yourself from laughing at how thick they were laying it on, Beau preened across from you like he’d got the best promotion of your life. “Are we ready to order?”

Beau gave a polite nod as his hand gestured towards you, “Ladies first.”

You smiled eyes checking the menu one last time before turning to give your order, your brain short-circuited at the figure standing over your table. Neither of you spoke, and both of your smiles slowly disappeared as realization set in at the same time.

“Mr. Jerimovich?” You hadn’t seen him since he chaperoned the field trip, usually bumping into Eva’s mom or stepfather during pick-ups and drop-offs.

“Sorry sweetheart, that's an off-the-menu item.” His voice had an underlying tone of humor in it as his eyes subtly traced across your face before taking in what he could see of you above the table.

You stared up at him taking in the crisp suit he was wearing, surprised that he owned something that wasn’t made predominantly of spandex and cotton. Amusement danced through your eyes and your lips ticked up in a small smile the longer you stared at each other. “Do you have any recommendations for what's on the menu then?”

The man stared down at you, eyes bouncing between yours as he rolled his lips in trying to hide the smile threatening to take over his face. “Well we’ve got rave reviews about our steak which I do have to agree with, but that makes me a bit biased.” He paused for a second making sure he hadn’t lost your attention. “But if your taste buds are longing for the sea, our amberjack might be what you're looking for.

You nodded, resting your head against the knuckles of your fist as you continued smiling up at him. “Sounds delicious, I’ll have the Bucatini.”

A laugh shot through him, the small shake of his head almost imperceptible as he gave you one last look before turning to the man across the table. Your own eyes found your date across from you, a surge of guilt raced through you as you realized you’d written off his presence. You listened as Beau ordered, the two men trading words regarding items on the menu before you were once again left alone with your date.

“You two seemed friendly, did you know him?” He was trying to play off at being nonchalant but the curiosity in his voice gave him away.

“Hardly, he’s a parent of one of my students.” You were surprised Beau hadn’t remembered him from the ‘Donuts With Dad’ event, but there was no way you were gonna bring up what happened between his nephew and Eva while you were off the clock. “So, tell me about yourself.”

And so he did throughout the whole meal, you were barely able to get a sentence out before he was back to making the conversation about him. You weren’t sure if he even realized he was doing it but you didn’t care all that much to call him out on it.

You’d zoned out after Beau once again began talking about his job in finance, listening just enough to know when you needed to appear interested. Your mind went back and forth on whether getting dessert is a good idea or not.

“Can I interest the lovely couple in our dessert menu?” It was like he read your mind, two dessert menus held in his hands as he looked between you and Beau, his stare seeming to linger on you longer than necessary.

Before you could even open your mouth to speak Beau’s voice spoke for you. “I think we’ll just take the checks, boss. Do me a favor and split it as evenly as you can.”

There was a moment of silence surrounding your table, you wished you could say you were surprised but that was far from the truth. While Beau initially seemed like a decent guy, the topics of conversation he always seemed to land on told you this was a signature move of his one of those “tests” to see if his dates were interested in him or the moneybags that came with his family name.

“You’re fine with that right, I mean I think it's only fair.” Beau’s words were aimed at you now eyebrows raised as if daring you to say no.

You rolled your eyes, fingers tracing around the wine glass you’d been babysitting for most of the night before you looked up at the older man a tight smile on your lips “We’ll take the check please.”

You watched in relief as his car exited the parking lot, a huge weight lifted off your chest at having been done with that date. He’d left with the promise of calling you the next day but you already knew you wouldn’t be answering that call.

Footsteps sounded from behind you, your lack of self-preservation skills had you spinning around before you’d thought better of it, upon seeing his face you leaned back onto the hood of your car arms crossing around your chest as you waited for him to stop in front of you. His hand stretched out in the distance between you before any words were spoken, your eyes fell to the wrapper in his hands, the streetlights bouncing off of it.

“You’re not trying to poison me are you?” His grip loosened around the square package as it passed from his hand to yours.

He shrugged hand falling back into his pocket, “Don’t think so highly of yourself princess, that would mean I gave a shit about you.”

A small chuckle left you as your eyes fell on the package in your hand, it took you a minute to figure out what it was before you realized it was a donut, a smile tugging at your lips as you thought about the last time the two of you had been together and donuts were involved.

The two of you stood in a comfortable silence for the first time since your initial meeting, neither of you knew what to say to the other seeing as this was your first ever interaction that hadn’t turned hostile.

“Don’t they have rules and shit about dating your students' parents?” His words were punctuated by the motion of him slipping a cigarette between his lips, his other hand using his lighter to light it. You watched as he took a few drags, not at all surprised to find out he was a smoker.

He took a few more puffs of the cigarette before holding it out to you in offering, your nose scrunched in disgust as you shook your head no before responding to the question he asked. “Technically he’s not a parent and the school year ends this week. So come Friday afternoon my students will no longer be my students.”

You looked at him, not breaking your stare as you opened the sweet treat, breaking off a piece and savoring the myriad of flavors as they settled on your tongue. The two of you fell back into that silence, the quiet chatter of Chicago’s nightlife filled in the absence your voices left.

“What the fuck did you see in that kid anyway?” You shrugged, breaking off another piece of the donut and eating it. “I mean who the fuck spends a whole date talking about how rich they are and then splits the bill? Motherfucker didn’t even leave a tip and you did.”

Amusement decorated your face as you watched him pace his tirade about your lackluster date borderline passionate. “Yo and don’t get me started on how fuckin’ boring that kid was. Like what the fuck would he even know what to do with a brat like you.”

Your eyebrows raised watching as he stomped out the cigarette, his body full-on facing you once more. You held the last piece of the donut out to him, eyes falling to his hand as it grazed yours, the glaring lack of a wedding band around his finger intriguing you.

He popped the bit into his mouth, lips wrapping around his forefinger and thumb as you spoke up. “You talk as if you know me.” Your eyes left his lips to hold his stare once more, “Tell me Mr. Jerimovich, what would you do with a brat like me?”

This was dangerous territory and you knew it but that didn’t stop you from wanting to dip your toes in and see how you’d come out the other side. You watched in anticipation as he looked at you, eyes heavy with every word running through his head that he wasn’t saying. His feet moved him forward, your knee brushed against his thigh as he slotted himself between your legs, your head tilting up to look at him from your seated position on the hood.

The air between the two of you was charged, both of you waiting for the other to bite first. You held his gaze determined to not be the first one to give in, his eyes left yours for a moment pools of blue dipping to the curve of your lips. You stilled as his hand reached out, the rough pad of his thumb gently rubbing across your bottom lip before tapping against it, his eyes daring you to open up even a little bit. Wherever he was concerned you would never back down from a challenge, and you didn’t, lips wrapping around the warm appendage as you sucked gently the taste of icing dancing across your tongue.

“I’d take care of this mouth of yours, wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with someone else.” It was like the world had gone silent, all you could hear was his husky voice and the loud pop your mouth made as he removed his thumb.

You could see that his pupils had blown wide, almost positive that yours looked the same, “What if I only want trouble with you?”

There was a split second of stillness before his hand shot out, the roughness of his palm wrapped around your neck with no intention of harming you, just a weight trapping you between him and the car. Without a second thought your hand reached out to wrap around his tie, a small pull on it was all you needed for him to get the message.

It was hot and heavy, all tongues and teeth the moment his lips found purchase on yours. All the months of pent-up frustration between the two of you were being poured into this kiss, your tongues locked in a battle as if whoever won was proof that they were the superior opponent. You took your chance to bite his bottom lip, the motion pulled a low grunt from his chest, his free hand moving to cup the small of your back as he scooted you even further down the hood, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist practically sitting in his lap at this point.

Surprise shot through you as the pressure on your neck became much more than decorative, as his large palm squeezed, your mouth opened wider in a gasp as he took the chance to shove his tongue down your throat. The eroticism of it all had your legs tightening around him as you searched for any friction, coming up empty as you languidly sucked on his tongue.

His mouth ripped away from yours, lips peppered heated kisses along your jawline as you looked at the stars through your lust-addled gaze, “Your mouth tastes like shit.” You weren’t sure why you said it but it was like you needed to rile him up.

A hoarse laugh left him as his lips and tongue began to lavish kisses around your throat, hand moving to push the sleeve of your dress down as his lips found your shoulder. You were lost in the ecstasy of it all before a sharp pain shot through you.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” His question was followed by another bite in the same spot as your head rolled back enjoying the painful ache it brought.

“N-no,” your words were broken off in a wanton moan as his lips glided across the exposed skin of your chest before his teeth sank into the flesh on your other shoulder.

It’d been so long since anyone had touched you like this and your brain felt like it was going into overdrive. You weren’t sure if he knew exactly how to make your body sing or if you were just so touch starved the simplest of touches would get you going.

A gasp escaped you as you felt his calloused fingertips skating up the exposed flesh of your thigh, the position he had you in made your dress bunch up around your waist. His mouth was still decorating the skin of your neck and while you should’ve told him not to leave any marks you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore, not when his fingers found the elastic of your panties that sat against your hip, and not when his big hand began massaging said hip.

You let out a quiet whine as his hand teased the band of your panties, the hand having skated further under your dress as he snapped the elastic against your skin. Your hand reached out to grip his bicep trying to ground yourself as his teasing made your head spin.

“P-please touch me Mr. Jerimovich.” You knew exactly what you were doing calling him that but in that moment you didn’t care, you just wanted him to stop teasing you.

His head shot up from your throat hand paused at your waist as he stared you down, his eyes were more black than blue now. The feeling of his blunt nails digging into your hip had you wincing, before you could even string together a sentence your mouth fell open on a high-pitched moan as his hips rammed into you the hardened length of his bulge began grinding into you both of his hands on either of your hips as he helped you rock yourself against him.

You could see the enjoyment in his eyes at watching you fuck yourself against him, each drag of his cock hit your clit deliciously the mixture of friction from your panties and the seam of his pants had your eyes welling up with tears as you bit your lip at the stimulation.

“You gonna fuckin’ cry?” You shook your head at his condescending question doing a horrible job of trying to remain unaffected. “You’re a real fuckin’ brat you know that? Arguin’ with me every chance you get, coming to my place of work with that fuckin’ loser.”

The raspiness of his voice was going to be your kryptonite and you needed him to shut the fuck up. Your hand untangled from his tie to reach for the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss just to get some silence. This kiss was different, a bit slower, and somehow a bit more passionate than the last. His lips moved tenderly against yours, his hands that found a home on your hips doing the same the slowness of the kiss translating to the tempo as he bucked up into you.

Your brain was already too overstimulated to try and understand why your heart began to feel like it was beating out of your chest, to piece together why being held against his chest like this felt like something you could see yourself enjoying and getting used to. Your mouths moved in sync with the tameness of the kiss not matching the ferocity either of you usually bestowed upon each other. The slowness of his hips rocking into yours was the icing on the cake, two bodies yearning for each other, for more than this parking lot tryst.

The sound of a car door closing pulled you from the fantasy drifting through your head, your body arching as far away from him as it could even though your need to continue being touched told you otherwise. His hands quickly left your hips, his whole body caging you in as he looked around the parking lot to make sure no one could see you. The noise had come from across the street, the civilian entering their car none the wiser to the reckless behavior you were engaged in.

It hit you all at once as you looked up at him eyes wide and filled with tears that slowly began to shed. Your palms pressed into his chest shoving him away from you as you hurriedly scrambled to get off of the car, hands fumbling to pull your dress down jumping in place as the warmth of his hands began helping you.

“You good?”

“No!” You hadn’t meant to shout but your nerves pushed you over the edge, you shook your head as he raised his hands in defense. “I’m a teacher and I almost let you fuck me in public. What if someone saw? I could lose my job.”

The consequences of your actions were beginning to set in. You were too busy in your world of lust whatever logic you had seemed to slip away with every caress of his fingers, every press of his mouth. You weren’t a reckless person and maybe that’s what drew you into this situation: a desire to throw caution to the wind, the tears streamed down your face as you ran through every negative scenario racing through your head.

“Hey, c’mere,” you didn’t get a chance to argue before his hands were pulling you into his chest, one holding your head against him while you tried to calm down. “Shh, you’re gonna be okay. I promise no one saw, nothing's gonna happen.”

You scoffed, moving your head to look at him, not interested in any lies. “Mr. Jeri-,”

“Richie.” His hand on your neck began massaging soothing circles into your flesh, the light touch calmed you a bit, “Call me Richie.”

It felt too personal. From the way he held you in the dim parking lot trying to alleviate your worries, to the way he looked at you eyes full of an emotion you weren’t quite used to seeing as you stared at him.

“I…I should go.” You made no move to step out of his embrace, eyes locked on his as his hand gently squeezed the back of your neck.

You stepped out of his embrace, the chilly Chicago air sent a shiver down your spine at the loss of body heat. You watched in silence as he stripped out of his suit jacket, your eyes landing on the smear of your makeup against his once pristine white shirt, eyes falling a little lower to the wet patch you’d left on the front of his slacks, white-hot shame shooting through you. You didn’t say anything as he wrapped the jacket around your shoulders, nodding your head in thanks too embarrassed to apologize for the stains you’d left on his clothes.

Neither of you spoke or made any indication of moving, his hands falling back into his pants pockets as you tugged the jacket tighter around yourself.

“Richie? Where you at man were ready for that little debrief thing you like doing.” The voice made you jump trying to fold in on yourself while Richie stepped in front of you hiding you from view in case the person walked around the derelict fence hiding the two of you from the back door to the restaurant.

“Just uh give me a minute Marcus!” Your eyes stayed glued to his back, wishing more than anything for this whole night to end and pretend it never happened.

He stood still until the sound of the door slamming shut reached his ears before his body swiveled back around to face you. “You good to drive home?”

You nodded, sending him a tired smile as the two of you began walking to the driver’s side door. Digging through your clutch you found your keys unlocking the car, stepping out of the way as he opened the door for you guiding you to get in. You stopped with one foot in the car turning to shimmy out of his jacket before his hands landed on your shoulder stopping your movements.

“Don’t worry about it.” You unconsciously settled into him, his fingers working out the tension you held onto. Your breath hitched as his hands skated from your shoulder to your neck before finding purchase on your cheeks, the rough skin of his thumbs gently swiping the tear stains away.

You felt vulnerable under his gaze, not sure if you were comfortable with him looking at you without that glimmer of anger and frustration in his eyes. He leaned forward unexpectedly, chapped lips burning a tender kiss into the skin of your forehead, lips lingering for longer than necessary before he pulled back.

“Do me a favor and get home safe.” The side of his lips ticked up in a smile.

Before you could lose your resolve you leaned in, kissing the edge of his lips where the ghost of a smile began before stepping the rest of the way into your car and watching as he stepped out of the way to close your door. He watched you drive off a small wave of his hand sent in your direction.

You drove home in a daze, mind still back in that parking lot. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as your car filled with the scent of nicotine mixed with pine trees the only culprit of the scent was the jacket neatly sat in your passenger seat. The choice of cologne was so odd it was surprising you hadn’t smelled it when you were trying to devour Richie in the parking lot, a smile raised to your lips before you started laughing at the chaotic night you had.

Your laughs died down as you promised yourself that it would never happen again, even though you could feel the growing urge to throw yourself into whatever that was headfirst. But logic was slowly coming back to you, giving you a myriad of reasons why it was a horrible idea and why it couldn’t happen again.

And now all you had to remember the moment was a jacket that smelled like nicotine mixed with some weird woodsy musk cologne and the yearning feeling left behind by his bruising kiss.

a/n: i hope you’re all doing well please enjoy! feel free to interact however you see fit! 🫶🏽

[beingfacetious]

Okay. Yeah, all right, uh... Yeah. Okay. Chefs, listen up. Let's look alive, yeah? I'm gonna plug everybody in, all right? Let's hustle. Let's listen to the sound of my voice and the sound of Richie's. We're gonna do this, yeah?