#Richie and Mikey | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebearer · 4 months

Text

the milestone menu: roasted red pepper and tomato soup for sad days

prompt: the death of mikey's anniversary is near. you make a comfort meal for carmen.

contains: mentions of death. angty with a side of fluff (at the end). anxious!carmen (i mean ofc).

INGREDIENTS

3 red bell peppers. 4 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, chopped. An onion, chopped. 2 garlic cloves, minced

1 1/2 tsp thyme. 2 tsp paprika. A pinch of sugar. Salt & pepper. Cayenne

1/2 cup Chicken broth. 2 tbsp butter. 1 1/2 tbsp flour.

DIRECTIONS

Cover peppers in oil, broil until black, turn to get all sides. Put them in a paper bag to rest, the skin & seeds should come off easily. Chop. Heat oil on med heat in a large pot, cook garlic & onions until soft. Add tomatoes, peppers, thyme, paprika, and sugar. Cook on med-low, until most of the liquid has evaporated, about 20 minutes. Stir in 6 cups of chicken stock, salt & pepper. Bring to boil & simmer for 20 mins, until the vegetables are tender. Strain soup. Use a food processor or blender, and blend solids to your desired consistency. In your large pot, melt butter & add flour. Add soup/purée and stir, simmer for a few minutes.

“Hey, baby,” Carmen’s voice came to you before he did. A heavy sigh, tired and heavy from the day, from the looming anniversary approaching.

Mikey’s death date was creeping closer and closer, the days darker and colder as did Carmen’s demeanor. Longer days at work, distant even when he was home with you. You worried about him, though everyone told you not to.

“He just… he gets like this when it gets closer to the date, you know?” Richie muttered when you’d confided in him at family dinner. “We all get kinda fucked up, but Carm… That’s just how he is, y’know? Just give’im some time.”

Anchovy purred, rubbing against Carmen’s leg. It was almost like he knew. Carmen would swear he did, that he could sense his owner’s upset, that he was trying to make it better. He’s like you, Carmen would say, giving you a half grin that always had you swooning.

Carmen frowned when he didn’t see you lingering about. Not in the doorway smiling at them, leaning in for a kiss, wrapping him in a hug. “Babe?” Carmen called again, looking down the hall. The lights were on in the kitchen, a small clinking of bowls and silverware.

Carmen found you in front of the stove, trying to keep quiet, stirring a pan on the burner gently. “Hey,” He frowned when you jumped, turning around with a wide eyed gaze, like you’d been caught.

“Carm,” You chirped, body shimmying in front of the stove, too close to the flame in a too loose shirt. Carmen fought the urge to tell you to move or tuck your shirt in.

“You’re-You weren’t supposed to be home early.” You turned to the clock blinking on the microwave. “I-I thought you weren’t going to be home for another hour.”

“Richie told me to leave.” Carmen frowned, trying to peer around you.

“Why?” You blocked his view with your body, a side step in front of him.

“‘Cause he’s a fuckin’ jaggoff lately. What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffed lightly, grabbing your waist gently, holding you in place so he could see around you. A large pot on the stove, bubbling to life, steam clouding the clear lid that covered it.

“I’m cooking.” You huffed, shoulders deflating lightly. “I-I was going to surprise you. I had this whole thing planned, and I got candles and I was going to change out of this.” You threw your hands down on your sweatshirt- Carmen’s sweatshirt. One from Copenhagen he’d picked up when it was especially cold. You’d stolen in, not that he minded, he liked you better in it anyways.

“Was going to at least try to look a little nice.” You mutter, wiping off a small stain, a glob of tomato that had flung when the processor lid wouldn’t come off earlier.

“You look beautiful, c’mon.” Carmen shook his head at you. “What’re you- Why’re you doin’ all this?” His heart skipped for a moment, looking at the calendar pinned on the fridge. “Did I- We didn’t have plans?” Fuck, he’d been so busy he’d forgotten. Head everywhere but where it needed to be. First he was fuckin’ up dishes left and right at work, and now he couldn’t even remember a fuckin’ date.

“No,” You shook your head, stilling Carmen’s racing mind. “I just… I wanted to do something nice.” You looked up at him, hands grabbing him sweetly, holding them in your own. “For you.”

“For me?” Carmen whispered, swallowing around the tightness in his throat, in his chest. “What’re you talkin’ about for me? What-Why would you wanna-”

“Because,” You shrugged lightly, hands swinging between the two of you gently. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Carmen saw the hesitation on your face, knew what was coming before you said it. He tensed in your hold. “I just… With everything-”

“-Don’t.” Carmen shook his head, the burn in his throat strangling his voice. “You don’t have to, baby.”

“I do.” Your eyes met his, rounding in his gaze. “I want to. I-I don’t really think it will help, but… I don’t know. Whenever I was sad my mom would make this for me.” You nod back towards the pot on the stove. “It always made me feel better.”

Carmen thought he might cry. He willed himself, squeezing your hands, pulling you into his chest to hold you. He just needed to hold you, to feel you, pressing his nose to your scalp, inhaling your scent.

All the emotions he’d repressed, swallowed down and tried to power through. Anytime he’d turn the corner, see Mikey’s smiling face on the fall and he��d feel like breaking down. Screaming, crying, punching the walls, pulling his hair out, ears ringing and heart hammering; instead, he’d go to the walk-in to breathe through collapsing lungs.

You felt Carmen’s shaky breath, rattle out of his chest and shake into yours. Your hand rubbed gently against his back, up his spine in a soothing way you hoped would calm him.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, cheeks pressed against his chest. His heart raced in your ear, a pounding thud that made your own heart squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Carm.”

“It’s alright.” Carmen gritted, jaw clenching, willing his tears back. “It’s-it’s just a lot. I don’t even fuckin’ know why. Why-Why I even get like this when-when it’s been so long.”

“Don’t do that.” You shook your head, frowning at him lightly.

“No, no it’s true. I- fuck, I shouldn’t be-”

“-Carmen,” You held his gaze firmly. His red rimmed blue eyes met yours, a little wary, vulnerable. You softened, fingers brushing through his hair. “It’s ok.”

The finality in your voice, soft but certain, it made Carmen’s jaw shake, emotions bubbling over. He held you, rocking side by side in the kitchen, cries muffled into your shoulder. You held him back, just as tight, cooing shushes over the hums of the appliances, his tears wet on his sweatshirt- your sweatshirt.

“Don’t expect a lot.” You gave a small, teasing smile over your shoulder.

Carmen had settled into his usual seat at the small kitchen table. He’d sheepishly wiped his tears, letting you dote on him sweetly. Kiss his tears away, soft lips pressing to his wet cheeks, his nose, pulling him in so his lips were on yours, arms still tangled around the other.

“It’s not, like, gourmet or anything.” You shook your head, ladling out the hot liquid into a bowl. “It is my Nana’s recipe though.”

“Better than gourmet then?” Carmen’s voice was raspy with dried tears, though he smiled lightly. Bright enough to warm your heart, leave you smiling, plating the grilled cheese.

“She’d love that you said that.” You grin, setting the steaming bowl and sandwich in front of him. You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, a hand running down the back of his neck lovingly.

He burned at the simplicity, the sweetness of it all. So loving and affectionate freely, without any strings attached. Mikey would’ve loved you, Carmen was so sure of it.

“This is good.” Carmen nodded, swallowing his spoonful.

“Yeah?” You grinned proudly, positively beaming.

Of course it was good, the best fuckin’ thing he’s ever had. It came from you, so it only made sense it was. Carmen didn’t say that. Instead, he smiled, reaching over for your hand, squeezing it across the table. “Yeah. Amazing. Just what I needed.” He swallowed another wave of tears, happier this time. “Thank you for, uh, for doin’ this.”

“I’m glad you like it.” You propped your head in your free hand, a lopsided, lovey smile that warmed Carmen from the inside out. He knew his cheeks were blushing, tingling pink under your affectionate gaze.

“It’s really good.” Carmen took another spoonful, the warmth spilling down his throat, soothing his chest. “Sorry I came home early and didn’t call. I just… I’ve been out of my mind, y’know? I’m sorry about that too, it’s-it’s not fair to you, and-”

“-Carm,” You squeezed his hand lightly, fingers intertwining with his. “I’m glad you like it.” You smile sweetly.

Carmen nodded, leg still shaking under the table. He didn’t let go of your hand, held it in an iron grip like a lifeline and you let him, thumb sweeping over his inked knuckles calmly.

If Mikey could see him now, he’d be howling in laughter, cackling at Carmen at how “whipped” he was. Mercilessly tease him for being “soft” in a way that only a big brother could. But he knew Mikey would be so proud, so fuckin’ happy that Carmen found you- that Carmen had someone like you.

931 notes · View notes

trashmuth · 11 months

Photo

Muriel Rukeyser, Then x The Bear

#web weaving #muriel rukeyser #the bear #spoilers #poetry #carmy berzatto #michael berzatto #richie jerimovich #paralells #sorry i wrote mickey #it is mikey

2K notes · View notes

etherealising · 10 months

Text

chapter three | lavender vanilla

↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairings: platonic!mikey berzatto x fem!reader | carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader

summary: christmas dinner commences, you and carmy put your differences aside for a night.

wc: 6.9k

The sound of laughter could be heard through the door of Donna’s bedroom. The two women occupying it caught up with each other like no time had passed at all. You were laying down on the end of Donna’s bed, elbow propped up so your hand could hold your head up. Tiff laying in front of you sitting up slightly from you adjusting her pillows when you had first made an appearance in the room.

“Wait so Richie actually blew up your mom’s microwave?” The words coming out between the laughs that had been wracking Tiffany’s body. Eyes glistening with unshed tears as she listened to your account of the story.

You sat up rapidly head nodding to confirm Tiff’s question, “Exactly, Mikey volunteered to pick my mom and I up from her chemo appointment, and Richie bless his soul was trying to make dinner for us.” You paused as you couldn’t stop giggling at the memory, “He couldn’t find any plates, so he put fucking foil in the microwave, and by the time we got home the house was full of smoke and there were scorch marks on the wall.” You couldn’t help but to lean over clenching your stomach at the belly aching laugh the memory induced. Tiff doing no better hand gently cradling her bump as she tried to catch her breath.

Finally getting enough air into her lungs Tiff spoke up, “Wha-What did your mom do?” She searched your eyes waiting to hear your explanation. Your own laughter had finally settled down allowing you to finish your story, “Absolutely nothing! My mom was so sweet on Richie he could’ve burnt the house down and she would’ve thanked him for it!” The laughter in the room took over once again as the two of you imagined how much your mom’s little crush inflated Richie’s ego.

The two of you had finally calmed down sitting in the ambience that a memory from your younger years left behind. Tiff did her best to sit up, careful not to move too quickly in case it induced a bout of nausea. Her hands reached out gently clasping yours in her embrace, “I’m sorry she couldn’t be here with us today.” The slight squeeze she sent your hands conveying the raw emotion she felt, the small sad smile gracing her lips doing their best to comfort you.

You nodded, sending your own small smile her way, eyes quickly leaving hers to dart around the room, not comfortable enough to see the earnestness in her blue eyes. You cleared your throat trying to ground yourself, “Ahem, yeah…yeah it's a little weird, first Christmas without her and everything.” You let out a pathetic little laugh doing your best to not let the gloomy feeling settle over the room.

You squeezed Tiff’s hands back finally finding her eyes again, “Speaking of, she actually made something for you-well for the baby actually.” You motioned to Tiff’s stomach trying to move the conversation along to something much more light-hearted. “I’ll just go get it yeah, I want you and Richie to open it together.” Tiff nodded eyes misting at your mom’s selflessness in what must have been a debilitating time for her.

Smiling at Tiff one last time you quickly got up to make your way downstairs to where Carmy had hang your coat and bag. You made your way down stairs laughter and loud voices coming from the direction of the living room. You made it to the closet where your belongings were quickly grabbing your keys out of your tote bag you debated slipping your coat on before ultimately deciding it wouldn’t be necessary. You could hear Mikey’s voice as you made your way out the door, he and Richie recounting one of their many tales. You quickly slipped through the door making sure it closed behind you as to not let any cold air in.

Rushing to your car you popped the trunk reaching for the Christmas themed gift bag. You reached up to shut your trunk wanting to hurry and get back inside when your eyes landed on the large matte black box sitting in your trunk. A matching black bow and envelope atop of it, the white ink that spelled out Carmy’s name glaring back at you.

You let go of the trunk letting out an exasperated sigh. You hand planned on personally giving him the gift and watching as he opened it, wanting to see his reaction. But as your brain thought about the argument you had with him earlier, that hope quickly dwindled. You sat the gift bag on top of the box before reaching to pick up the box itself, shutting your trunk and locking your car. The sound of another car door closing caught your attention, Pete making his way towards you from across the street, hand going up in a little wave to greet you. You smiled racing your hand holding your car keys to return his greeting.

Deciding to wait for him so you could walk in together, your eyes took in the aluminum tray grasped in his hands, “Oh shit.” The expletive left your lips as Pete finally took his place by your side, his wide goofy grin drawing your eyes, he balanced the tray in one hand to give you a side hug that you willingly leaned into. ��Baby you look great! How’ve you been?” You smiled, seeing Pete before re-entering the house was like a breath of fresh air. The two of you began your trek up the sidewalk.

“Doing my best Pete. Um what cha got in your hands there?” Your head nodding to the tray held in his hands. Pete followed your vision before smiling back at you “Tuna casserole! Couldn’t come empty handed you know.” Pete’s happy go lucky energy bringing a small smile to your face, the two of you stopped before entering the house. You adjusted the box in your hands, free hand reaching out to gently squeeze Pete’s bicep.

“Oh you poor kind soul, they’re gonna fuck you up in there.” The words cause Pete’s smile to falter as you send him a toothy one of your own before walking through the door and holding it open for Pete to walk through. As you both walked through the front entrance you caught the tail end of what sounded to have been a hostile conversation, Pete stealing the show by making his presence known. You had half the mind to leave Pete to defend himself, but a part of you would’ve felt bad for letting someone as sweet as Pete take the heat alone. You walked around Pete sitting on the arm of the chair Mikey was sitting in, his arm going to wrap around your waist unconsciously.

“You know it’s seven fishes, right Pete?” Mikey’s question drew the rest of the room's attention to the tray Pete was still happily holding. The room burst with voices as almost everyone took turns berating Pete. You leaned back slightly so you weren’t blocking Mikey’s view before turning your head in Richie’s direction hoping to gain his attention.

You reached behind Mikey’s back to pinch Richie’s arm his eyebrows shooting up an offended look on his features as his head turned to you, “What the fuck was that for Baby? Pete’s the one with the eighth fish.” You rolled your eyes hand grabbing the gift bag from its place on the box, maneuvering around Mikey’s imposing body before handing it off to Richie, “Merry Christmas Richie, its for you and Tiff so don’t open it without her,” You scolded raising your eyebrows to further cement your message. “It's from mom, she um, she didn’t get to finish it so I apologize if my knitting skills didn’t do it justice.” The last part quickly added on in a joking tone as you noticed Richie’s eyes taking on a solemn look to them.

He gently grabbed the gift bag out of your hand, a slight nod sent in your direction as he gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “Thank you Baby, means a lot.” You smiled back quickly, turning back to the conversation, not wanting to get caught up in any more unwanted emotions.

Carmy’s voice breaking through the onslaught of shit Pete was getting, “Hey, family. Come on, let’s sit. Okay dinner’s ready, alright.” Your eyes connected with his baby blues as you subtly tried to adjust the envelope sitting on the box so the bow could hide the recipient’s name. Your gaze was snatched away from Carmy as your attention was directed to Mikey who was whispering in your ear. Carmy did his best not to let the sight bother him, Mikey drilling his ass in the pantry earlier about what he accused the two of you of. It was hard not to though when you had so comfortably leaned into Mikey’s body whispering your own secret back into his ear, the sight of Mikey’s thumb rubbing gentle circles in the material of your shirt that was covering your waist causing Carmy’s head to spin, quickly removing his attention to Pete to ease his insecurities.

You hadn’t noticed Carmy’s eyes glued to you as you exchanged hushed whispers with Mikey, “What the fuck did you end up buying him?” Mikey’s words caressed your lips as his free hand tapped against the present sitting in your lap. You followed his hands before whispering back to him, “Something that I’m not even sure was worth saving up like 10 paychecks for this shit.” You scoffed feeling a bit miffed about the present since you and Carmy were still on uncertain terms. Mikey nodded a smile gracing his lips as he softly bumped his head into yours, “He’ll appreciate it Baby, I know he will.” You sent him a hopeful smile, you may have been annoyed with the youngest Berzatto and his antics, but you really did want him to like the gift.

“Yo Baby, Baby.” Your eyes found Carmy’s as he called for your attention, “What is that? What the fuck is Pete holding?” You quickly looked at Pete feeling bad that he was on trial before finding Carmy’s eyes again, a small smile finding your lips as you sent a shrug in his direction, not wanting to be the one to rat Pete’s good intentions out.

Carmy modded lips pursing as he wiped his hands down his face as he turned his attention to Steve knowing he’d give him a straight answer, “You’re gonna be upset, but his heart was in the right place, Carm. It’s a tuna casserole.” The slight flush you could see creeping up Carmy’s neck indicating the toll this mishap was taking on him.

You leaned into Mikey more, settling into a more comfortable position as you drowned out the rest of Pete’s trial. You were ready for the day to be over and you hadn’t even eaten dinner yet, you could feel your eyes slowly drifting shut as Mikey’s warm body pressed into your side, each rise and fall of his broad chest pulling you into the purgatory before sleep and consciousness.

The sound of Sugar’s voice jumping onto the tuna casserole bandwagon roused you from the little peacefulness you were beginning to find. You watched with drowsy eyes as she snatched the dish from his hands presumably disposing of it, you softly pat Mikey’s thigh before removing yourself from your seat intending to find somewhere to drop Carmy’s present off at. You stopped in the threshold of the door sending Pete a small smile, “If it makes you feel better Donna threatened to beat my mom’s ass when we showed up with collard greens and baked Mac n cheese our first Christmas here.” You gave a soft pat to his elbow hoping the anecdote helped him feel someone better.

You left the living room, eyes looking around for a practical spot to leave Carmy’s present. You debated leaving it on the small side table in the hallway, but you weren’t too sure if anyone would give it a second thought. Carmy stopped in the doorway of the kitchen as he found you standing in the hallway, the matte black box still clutched in your hands. He had half a mind to hide out in the kitchen until you left but knew he’d probably get shit from his mom about it.

He cleared his throat, gaining your attention as he took a few steps to lessen the distance between you. His hand raising up to scratch the back of his neck, eyes not meeting yours as he prepared himself to interact with you, “Ahem, I uh I overheard what you said to Pete. Is your mom doing okay? Was the trip out here too much for her?”

You stared at Carmen eyes cold and unwavering, you knew his question held no malicious intent but it still felt like a slap to the face. The silence from you finally caused Carmy’s eyes to meet your own, the soft color of your irises giving nothing away.

“She died eight months ago Carmen.” Carmy felt like his whole world had stop the voices in the background drowinng out as the bubble the two of you were standing in was filled with nothing but silence.

Carmy’s arm raised his head forcefully running through his hair, head darting to the side to compose himself. “Shit Baby, I’m sorry I-I didn’t know.”

You nodded eyes straying to the present in your hands swallowing the lump in your throat, “How would you?” An out of place laugh leaving your lips as you looked at Carmy, the kicked puppy expression on your face making you feel a little bad. Letting out a sigh you shook your head, “I’m sorry Carmy, that wasn’t fair.”

Carmy copied your motions, his own hand shaking as he reached out a gentle unsure hand to lay on top of yours, “No no, uh I think I deserved that one.” His boyish smile doing its best to offer you some form of comfort in this moment. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, the smile you hadn’t seen in so long unconsciously causing one to appear on your own lips, head dropping to the calloused hand gently on yours.

The hand quickly retreated to its owner, Carmy not wanting to push anymore boundaries, eyes looking at the box one more time a scapegoat from this conversation, “Uh so what’s in the box?” His hand gestured to the rather large decorative box that looked quite fancy now that he could see it up close.

You let out a shy chuckle, “It's uh actually for you. Merry Christmas.” You held out the box to him urging him to take it out of your hands. His eyes shot down to the box, surprised you had even thought about him, “If you don’t feel like opening it now I could just leave it in your room.” Your head motioning up the stairs.

Carmy stepped back nodding his head, “Uh yeah please if you don’t mind.” He sent you an awkward smile, guilt creeping up his chest. You smiled turning to head up stairs and drop his present off, he called out to you as made it halfway up the stairs. You stopped turning to face him, “I uh, I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

Carmy watched as you drew your lips up into a broad smile. He knew it was fake though, that small sparkle wasn’t in your eyes, the edges of them not crinkling either the way he had once been used to your pretty teeth not making an appearance for him either. He watched as you sent him a small shrug, “It’s okay Carmy, I wasn’t expecting one anyway.” You resumed your journey upstairs to his room.

Carmen was left alone at the bottom of the staircase, eyes still glued to the spot you were just minutes ago. He closed his eyes trying to get a deep breath into his lungs. Carmy was trying to understand how he had ever deserved to once have you in his life, he was a grade A fucking asshole to you, and you still treated him with the same love and thoughtfulness you always had. Carmy made a decision in that moment, as soon as this night was over, he was buying you a fucking Christmas present.

You closed the door behind you as you exited Carmy’s childhood room, the air of nostalgia pressing down on you while you were in there almost suffocating you. You had been in there entirely too long, easily getting caught up in how much easier life was when you and Carmy used to build pillow forts and tell ghost stories in there. You had meant to just place the present at the foot of his bed and go, but you found yourself getting caught up in the memories and flipping through the various culinary books that had been sitting on the nightstand paying extra close attention to the pages that had been tabbed.

By the time you made it to the dining room everyone had sat down and the only empty seat was to the right of Sugar and directly across from Carmy. You walked in brows pitched together at the commotion that could be heard, eyes locking with Carmy’s at the same time something aggressively hit your thigh.

A chorus of “Michael” could be heard around the dining room. You looked down at the sound of metal clanging against metal, one fork laying next to your foot another a little ways in front of it. Bending down you scooped the two forks up in your hand. You looked around the table even more confused than you already were eyes darting to Mikey as he threw his arms open in greeting, “Baby! Nice of you to join us, mind doing me a favor and handing me those forks?” Your eyes flashed to the forks in your hand before taking in everyone’s expressions around the table.

You had no clue what you had just walked into. You looked in Carmy and Nat’s direction, the two of them subtly shaking their heads. Your eyes found Mikey’s again a little unnerved by the look in his eyes, “They were just on the floor so I’ll just go wash them off real qui-.”

The sound of palms slamming against the table cut off your explanation causing you to flinch where you were standing, eyes still glued to Mikey, “Sorry Baby, I’m sorry,” his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Just hand me the forks alright, don't needa wash ‘em off,” You gulped your head nodding slowly as you took the few steps in Mikey’s direction. He carefully took them from your grip, a mocking smile pulling at his lips.

You gave him a small nod quickly retreating to your seat. You shuffled your chair in Stevie helping to push the back of it. All was silent for a moment as everyone looked at each other, you doing everything in your power to avoid anyone’s eyes. A quiet laugh broke the silence followed a whispered “Of fucking course.”

Mikey’s eyes snapped back to Lee eyes zeroing in on the older man, “What did you just say?” The question sounded more like a demand to your ears. Lee laughed again shrugging his shoulders turning his own eyes to glare at Mikey, “I said of course she’s gonna fucking do what you say the girl has no fucking backbone.”

An echo of “Lee,” and “What the fuck,” could be heard from both Richie and Cicero, one trying to the diffuse the situation, the other not settling for the unwarranted disrespect thrown at you. Your head shot up a frown decorating your features eyes locking on Carmy’s as he shook his a head a plea for you to ignore it and not further feed into the chaos

You ignored Carmy turning in your chair to face Lee, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean Lee?” Stevie’s hand reached up to lightly pat your shoulder trying to calm you down before aggressively being shrugged off.

Lee faced you with a sardonic smile pressing into his lips “Is somebody gonna tell her? Do I have to tell her?” He looked around the table looking for anyone to take the reins from him, ��I’m sorry that nobodies honest with you sweetheart, but you’re just a glorified lap dog.” He shrugged his shoulders as if in apology, “Just a bitch he keeps on a leash.”

Your mouth opened a little bit confused as to how this conversation had become a personal attack on you. Everyone at the table had brought forth different reactions after that revelation, anyone who knew Mikey knew he didn’t take kindly to disrespect thrown your way. You felt a foot nudge yours under the table taking you away from the ensuing chaos. You turned to Sugar who was focused on the scene in front of her too worried about Mikey to be paying attention to you. You felt the nudge again, eyes finding Carmen's eyebrows raised in a silent question, eyes searching your face to catch any remaining emotions, you smoothed out the frown on your face sending him a small nod to let him know you were fine.

The two of you were drawn back to the argument before you as the two men began berating each other again, voices growing louder by the second. You watched Mikey’s face lose any sort of emotion as Lee took a shot at his drug use. You felt your heart squeeze in your chest at Mikey’s reaction, you couldn’t lie you thought both men were being extremely childish but you hated how that was one of the things people latched onto when purposely trying to hurt Mikey.

The table remained silent; the only sound filling the room was the ticking of a clock in the background, everyone doing their best to not cause any reasons to incite more violence. The anxiety caused you to bounce your leg up and down unsure as to where the rest of this night was going, you felt a foot gently tap the toe of your shoe, something Carmy used to do whenever you needed reassurance that everything would be okay and other forms of physical contact were impossible.

You watched as Mikey pawned Pete’s fork from its set place, an uproar going around the table pleading with Mikey. You sat there silently watching the scene if 10 other people hadn’t already gotten through to Mikey, you were sure and 11th voice joining the mix would be completely useless at this point.

Sugar’s voice cut through the chaos attention zeroed in on Mikey, “Michael. Please don’t do this.” You watched as Mikey focused his attention on Sugar, “I love you.” Being her final plea as Mikey seemed to be weighing his options. The discourse between the two continued as everybody watched with bated breath waiting to see what the next move would be.

Steve’s unwarranted giggle broke Michael’s focus, his rush of apologies being brushed off by Mikey all in the name of fun. Cicero decided he might be the one to finally get through to Mikey playing his hand at mediator. You watched Mikey’s erratic behavior in silence, you weren’t usually privy to this side of Mikey, never being in town long enough to catch one of his episodes. It scared you, and it wasn’t necessarily Mikey that was scaring you but knowing that his switch could be flipped in such a timely manner that had you worrying about his safety.

The argument being nowhere near resolved as Lee’s constant instigating kept fueling the fire. Mikey’s sudden movement to stand up caused your heart to race, you honestly couldn’t give two shits about Lee’s wellbeing, your only concern was Mikey and what was going through his head at that moment.

You held your head in your hands that were propped up on the table by your elbows, the impending headache beginning to make an appearance. The animal noises coming from Mikey’s direction doing nothing to ease the ache behind your eyes. Doing your best to drown out Lee’s constant attack on Mikey’s character.

The clapping around the table drawing your head up as Donna danced into the dining room, you felt so exhausted you couldn’t even muster up a fake smile to appease her. “What did I miss?” Donna laughed as she made her way to her seat, a quiet “nothing” being her answer. “I missed something,” she said while sitting in her designated spot.

Donna’s eyes met yours, letting out another laugh “Jesus you look fucking miserable Baby. I definitely missed something.” You let out a small chuckle forcing your lips into a pathetic smile, you hand coming up to play with your own fork that was sat on the place mat, “Nothing Mama D, just Lee being a fucking cunt.”

The table fell quiet any hope for a somewhat peaceful family dinner squandered by your remark. All eyes flocked to Donna as she let out a full belly laugh, hand coming down to hit the table. The same hand moving up to point at you, “Now that’s fucking funny Baby.” A shit eating grin stretching across your face, Carmy letting out an exasperated sigh at his mom feeding into your antics.

“Uh, Stevie, Stevie’s about to say grace, Ma.” Mikey interjected trying to stir Christmas dinner back on his rightful course, Donna looked appeased eyes happily finding Steve’s figure as she waited for him to begin. A small back and forth between Mikey and Stevie ensued before that latter began his prayer.

“Um..Hey. Uh.. that we’re all…” Michelle’s laugh interrupting her partner causing you to laugh but quickly stopping at the soft pinch on your thigh earned from Sugar. You fell silent as you listened to Stevie give what seemed more like an awkward ramble rather than a prayer.

You could feel Carmy’s eyes darting across your figure as Stevie gave his explanation of what he thought the seven fishes symbolized. “I think that spending time and using that time on the people that we love is how we show them that we love them.” You had looked up in that moment, eyes connecting with Carmy’s piercing blue ones. Neither of you gave into the urge to look away, instead drinking each other in like two plants feeling the first drop of rain after a drought.

Your attention both drawn away by Donna’s quiet sniffles a chorus of praises sent in her direction in order to calm her aching heart.

“You okay?” Natalie’s question causes you to flop back in your chair, eyes clenching shut. You knew all Nat had was good intentions and would always be the first one to put Donna’s mental well-being first, but you also knew what it felt like to feel so overstimulated that those two measly would send you in a downward spiral.

“Do you know how much I fucking hate it when you ask me that? Do I not look okay Natalie?” Donna’s mood shifted just as quickly as it had been the whole day. Her unknown limit was reached in the span of a minute.

“Not really.” Michelle’s subtle shade drew a hardly restrained laugh out of you, “Oh, fuck you Michelle.” Donna snapped before setting her sights on you, “Is something funny Baby? Hmm?” The question causes the lingering smile to immediately drop your back going straight against the chair, your head quickly shaking back and forth throat clearing before answering Donna, “No ma’am.” You admitted head still on a swivel to ease Donna’s agitation.

You glanced at Carmy, his whole being sunken in as he looked at you as if your existence was exhausting him at this moment. Regardless of Carmen’s look you know your mom would’ve crucified your ass for walking into Donna Berzatto’s house and feeling comfortable enough to disrespect her not only to her face, but with a bunch of her peers around.

“Are you motherfuckers okay?” Donna continued on letting her subdued rage out the table silent so as to not enrage her any further. “Fuck you!” The smashing of glass as the plate hit the ground causing you to flinch, leg knocking into Carmy’s from the sudden noise, his knee tapping yours twice to reassure you everything would be fine.

Donna made her exit while berating Sugar, who sat there speechless unaware of why her need to make sure her mom was well was taken as a personal attack. Lee’s unprovoked comment about Donna’s tirade irritating you along with Michelle’s comment about it being her worst moment.

It was funny to you how each and everyone sitting at this table would drag themselves here every year. To sit in Donna’s house, to eat Donna’s food. To reap the rewards of the countless hours of Donna’s hard work, only to dismiss her because she had become so overstimulated the only reaction she knew to give was unadulterated rage.

You saw Mikey’s hand move before the fork flew across the table narrowly missing Lee’s head. The older man jumping up no longer tolerating the eldest Berzatto’s antics, Mikey following suit the clattering of the dishes loud as he threw his side of the table. The two men trying to force themselves out of the arms of the people holding them back seemingly ready to tear each other apart.

Silence fell upon the room as a loud crash was heard, the screeching of tires following after. You stood up from your seat mouth dropping open at the Mercedes Benz now sitting in the dining room. Mikey’s voice screaming at Donna to open the door as Sugar tightly grasped your arm lingering on the table, trying to ground herself. The two of you are the only remaining guests still sitting down. Your eyes followed Carmy’s as he stared blankly at the fork lodged into a cannoli.

Your head was pounding at this point, the small headache from earlier now feeling more like a migraine. You slipped your arm from Sugar’s grasp removing yourself from the dining room table as quietly as you could, you quickly walked to the front door. Every bone in your body was screaming at you to walk out that door and not come back, to protect your own peace. You plopped down on the porch step head resting against your knees, as much as you wanted to leave, your heart wouldn’t allow you to leave the Berzatto siblings to this mess alone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?” Sugar asked one final time as her and Pete were standing in the open doorway. “Pete will take you to the airport in a couple of hours.” You smiled pulling Sugar into a hug, the two of you lingering in the other’s embrace a much needed hug after the day you had.

You pulled back, placing a kiss against her cheek, “Get home Nat, I’ll have Mikey drop me off.” You could tell she was ready to protest but Pete grabbed her elbow gaining her attention, “She’s right you need rest.” You nodded in agreement with Pete, happy that Nat had found someone who would always put her first.

“Listen to Pete Nat, I promise I’ll be fine,” You gave her hand a squeeze the uncertainty still clinging to her features before she let out an exhausted sigh head nodding as she pulled you into one last quick hug. “Call me as soon as you get home okay?” It was your turn to nod, urging the two of them out the door before closing and locking it behind them.

You leaned your head against the cool surface of the door, you had no desire to sit on a plane for four hours, but you also had no desire to extend your stay in Chicago for longer than needed. Sighing you made your way into the kitchen to make sure all the appliances were turned off before flipping off the lights and making your way to the stairs.

The closing of a door caught your attention, your eyes shooting up and landing on Carmy’s tired face, the bags under his eyes seeming to have darkened from the stress of the day. He stopped in his tracks looking at you as well, eyes not blinking for a moment, “You’re still here?” His question caused you to frown confused at the hostile question.

His eyes darted across your face, throat clearing, “No, I uh didn’t mean it like that. Just thought you would’ve been gone by now.” You nodded understanding where he was coming from. “I’m actually looking for Mikey, have you seen him? He’s supposed to take me to the airport.”

Carmy felt his jaw clench at the mention of Mikey, he was getting real fucking tired of hearing about the two of you together. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much but he hadn’t expected to be spending his first Christmas home in a while worrying about Mikey’s role in your life.

“Uh, Mikey took off a bit ago. I don’t think he’ll be home anytime soon.” You felt your eyes instinctively close a tired sigh escaping through your lips. The last thing you wanted to do was head to the airport this early and wait for your flight. You had hoped you’d be able to catch a quick nap before heading out.

“I could, ahem, I could drive you.” You watched as Carmy ran a hand through his hair, eyes looking everywhere but you, “I mean only if you want though you know?” You felt a small smile tug at your lips, Carmy's awkward behavior endearing to you, you could tell he felt self-conscious about even offering up such an idea, and you understood, it was kind of out of left field for two people who hadn’t been on the best of terms.

“Honestly Carmy I would fucking love that,” You smiled in his direction thankful that you could count on one of the Berzatto brothers. “Um do you think I can take a shower though, kind of just wanna wash the day off.” You gave a small chuckle to try and alleviate any tension your request may have caused.

You watched Carmy’s head nod rapidly, words failing him in that moment. He turned heading to his childhood room expecting you to follow in his footsteps. You entered behind him, the room feeling impossibly smaller with the two of you now taking up space. You watched Carmy frantically move around the room returning to your side with a stack of clothes in his hand, you smiled gratefully taking the clothes from his hand before making your way towards the en suite.

Carmy watched as you closed the door behind you, hands moving to run down his face as his brain tried to piece together how after everything that had gone down today, you were taking a shower in his childhood bathroom.

You stepped out of the shower quickly wrapping the fluffy towel that you had found under the sink around your body. Your hand reached up to wipe the steam off the mirror, you stood there for a moment taking in your appearance grateful to have taken a shower but a little nervous about spending time in close quarters with Carmy after being apart for so long.

Your eyes turned to the pile of clothes sitting atop the countertop, you took inventory of the items. A white tee shirt that you just knew hugged Carmy deliciously, sweats that were sure to be baggy on your frame, a pair of socks and boxers you hoped had been washed prior to being offered to you.

The lotion bottle sitting next to the sink caught your attention, not giving it a second thought as you reached for Carmy’s signature scent lathering it on your body and quickly getting dressed. You exited the bathroom throwing your damp towel in the hamper next to the bathroom door. Taking a step into the room your eyes found Carmy sitting on his twin sized bed, legs propped up as a book rested on his knees, highlighter clenched between his teeth as he raptly read his book.

It wasn’t the position that kept your focus though. It was the tank top that showed off his toned biceps, shoulders sculpted just right. His signature gold chain complimenting the white tank top. You did your best to stop staring, eyes skating across his ink covered skin as an excuse to keep checking him out.

“You’re staring.” Your eyes shot to Carmy’s face, his eyes still stuck on his book. You cleared your throat gaining his attention, hand gesturing to the door behind you, “I hope you don’t mind I kind of used your shower gel…and your lotion.” Carmy nodded listening to you speak, “I drew the line at your 2in1 Head and Shoulders though, that was a real disappointment Carmen.” You sent him a teasing smile as you made your way to his bedroom door.

“Wait where are you going?” You stopped looking back at Carmy confusion washing over your face, “I was just gonna nap on the couch, I don’t want to intrude in your space any longer,” You calmly explained. Carmy stared at you for a few minutes, bright eyes drilling holes into your own, you watched as he moved to the opposite side of the bed before patting the spot he had just been in “Just uh, nap here okay?” You felt your heart rate pick up at the gesture, a little annoyed that basic human decency had your heart trying to race out of your chest.

Carmy raised his eyes in your direction waiting for you to take the spot. You quickly shuffled over, adjusting the pillow so you could lay down comfortably. You laid down on your right side, head facing Carmy, studying his face as he read. Watching as every few minutes he would highlight a sentence he probably found particularly interesting. His eyes so focused on what was in front of him you almost wondered if his body remembered how to blink. Your eyes traced down the side of his face, gliding down his neck and landing on his gold chain that caused your body to warm, your tongue peeking out unconsciously to lick your lips.

Continuing your path across Carmy’s shoulder your hand reached up to gently caress his ‘773’ tattoo. Index finger tracing every number before making its way down to what appeared to be a measuring cup holding the world.

Carmy’s head shot in your direction at the first touch of your soft finger against his skin, he watched your finger carefully tracing the ink lining his arms. He saw the concentration on your face doing his best to hold back a sigh at the feel of your skin against his. He had to convince himself to not reach out and push the hair out of your face to get a clear view of what you looked like at this angle. Carmy allowed you to continue your investigation, his own eyes darting across the visible side of your face, eyes falling to your pulse point imagining what it would feel like to place his hand there. His eyes were drawn to the medium sized ‘B’ in a typewriter-like font painted in the space behind your ear.

Carmy shakily reached out hand cupping the left side of your neck as his thumb gently ran back and forth over the single letter, “Baby?” You looked up at Carmy eyes meeting his as he tapped the ink behind your ear to signify what he was questioning. You gulped feeling the tension in the air as his eyes searched back and forth between your own.

“It could stand for Berzatto if you wanted it to.” You weren’t sure where the confidence to allow that whisper to leave your lips came from, but you weren’t going to pretend you regretted it.

You watched Carmy’s Adam's apple bob up and down. The grip of his hand tightening against your neck momentarily as he coughed before removing his hand. Eyes leaving yours as he shut the book still laying in his lap and placed it on the bedside table, “Ahem, It's late, get some rest I’ll wake you when it's time to leave.” You were given no time to interject as Carmy turned off his bedside lamp and turned so his back was facing you.

You sighed eyes now piercing the space between his shoulder blades. Leaning forward you pressed a small gentle kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder. “Goodnight Carmen. Sweet dreams.” You turned as well, not even being able to face his back.

Carmy’s breath caught in his throat, your lips feeling as if they had been branded into his skin. He took the chance adjusting his own body around, the size of his childhood bed causing the two of you to be pressed flushed together. The soft gasp you let out causing his heart to race his mind going a mile a minute, thoughts doing their best to talk him out of whatever the hell he thought he was doing right now.

His arm found its way around your waist pulling you impossibly closer to him, your backside pretty much in his lap at this point. Neither of you said a word. Carmy's face made its home in the crook of your neck. The faint scent of your lavender and vanilla perfume lulling him into a dreamlike state.

a/n: goodness did i hate the first draft of this chapter : ( and i still hate this draft, but the carmy x reader fluff at the end made me feel better lol. the family dinner truly killed me though and i’m so glad to be done with the christmas arc. i hope you all enjoy please like/reblog/comment or interact in whatever way you feel comfortable. i appreciate you all so much thank you for the support! 💜

idk if this needed to be said or not but this is obviously and AU at this point lol

tag list: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @gcidrvsh @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder @kailyn-g05 @khena

i hope i got everyone, strikethrough means i couldn’t tag : (

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #platonic!mikey berzatto x reader #platonic!richie jerimovich x reader #fem!reader #carmen berzatto fluff #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] 3

1K notes · View notes

criterioncollected · 8 months

Text

I AM A SECOND CHILD

season 1 - the bear / joseph gordon-levitt (@melt-in-places)

#web weaving #compilation #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #mikey berzatto #richie jerimovich #joseph gordon levitt

980 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 2 months

Note

Not sure if ur accepting requests for the bear.. but could we maybe get a Mikey x reader where she finds out she's pregnant after he died (big angst tbh) and she comes to the restaurant a mess and tells everyone and it's sad but everyone's shocked or something idk if that makes sense lol, thanks

Ahhh the angst! My favorite genre to write 🙈 Thank you so much for the request, darling! I hope you enjoy the fic 💌

Too Much, Too Late

Michael 'Mikey' Berzatto x Reader (Female) [The Bear]

Warnings: Mentioned Suicide, Mentioned Past Drug Abuse (dealing and consuming), Pregnancy, Swearing, SPOILERS for The Bear

Genre: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Angst with a happy ending

Summary: see request above

It was a job like any other. It was supposed to be one of those briskly-in-swiftly-out deals. All you had to do was keep it on the down low, distribute your products, get your pay and leave.

However, that didn't happen exactly as planned.

"Why are you in such a rush, sweetheart?" You found yourself accosted by a man who was very clearly three sheets to the wind already. The redness of his eyes, the dilated pupils and the alcohol on his breath suggested he was under several influences. Still, none of that was any justification for his borderline sleazy behavior. "Why don't you accompany me in blowing through this, huh?" He held up the baggie he'd just bought off you, causing you to roll your eyes.

In another setting, preferably under vastly different circumstances you would've probably found him attractive and would even like to uphold a conversation with him. Then again, in those ideal circumstances you imagine he wouldn't have been nearly as obnoxious as he was being in that moment.

Besides, you had a strict rule against participating in drugs with your clients. Or just drugs, period. Anything stronger than weed, that is.

You wanted to get him off your back as soon as possible so, instead of shutting him down in your typical cut-throat manner, you decided to let him down slowly and vanish before his object permanence kicked in. "Another time, pal. I have a busy night ahead."

It worked like a charm anytime someone tried to sweep you off your feet.

However, none of those other occasions had any follow-up. This one, on the other hand....

"Hey."

You had been caught up in your thoughts, making a mental itinerary for the next few days worth of deliveries when a voice startled you out of your tranquility.

It was the following morning and you were headed to the dumpster that was your plug's house - if you could even call it that.

Looking up, you couldn't help but frown at the sight of the 'flirt' from last night standing on the porch of your plug's house, leanings against the fence, smoking a cigarette.

"Hi?" The word came out automatically, a notation of confusion to it which made him smile.

"I don't know if you not remembering me is for better or for worse. I understand I came off a bit....gross last night." His unoccupied hand clasped around the back of his neck, an apologetic half-smile on his lips.

Despite being puzzled by the predicament, you found yourself chuckling, "No, no, I remember you. And don't worry about it, you were pretty tame compared to other shitbags I've had to deal with."

Your wording made him let out a laugh, "Yeah, 'shitbag' sums me up nicely."

Realizing how your words were poorly transmitted, you hurried to correct yourself, "No! That's not what I..."

He laughed yet again, amused by the blush that had crept onto your cheeks, "I know, I'm just fucking with you." He flashed you a charming smile as he tossed his cigarette and offered you his hand, "I'm Michael, by the way, but everyone calls me Mikey."

You were surprised by your own lack of hesitation as you took it, "Y/N, nice to meet you, Mikey."

What did surprise you was his smooth gesture - bringing the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles. You could see relief flood his features when you only scoffed in amusement. "Hope you don't mind, I asked around about you at the party last night. You're quite the phantom, you know. Nobody knew anything except your plug and it was a whole other hassle having to track him down."

You would've been lying if you said you didn't find his effort flattering. "Why go through all that trouble?"

There was that charming smile once more, now accompanied by a wink, "Cause that ain't a face you simply forget, darling."

That's how it all started, three years ago. But you can hardly remember any of it now. Everything has quickly been overshadowed by the tragedy that rocked your world.

Losing the love of your life. No one and nothing can ever prepare you for such a thing. No one can take away or aid the pain it brings on. No one can tell you how to move on, if you ever will. No two grieving processes are the same and yours has been very quiet. Too quiet. You can't even remember if you've cried since you found out a week ago. You can't remember having spoken to anyone since that dreadful phone call.

It's all been building up, piling on - the calm before the storm.

And the storm has just crashed down on you, tears finally spilling over past the barrier you're able to hold them at. Sobs scratch up your throat, racking your ribcage, echoing back at you off the bathroom walls. All the agony, all the pain, the regret, the guilt the grief - it all spills out in those harrowing sobs as tears stream down your face, falling onto the sink counter and pregnancy test on it.

The positive pregnancy test.

"No, no, no...." You mumble to yourself in despair, unsure of what exactly you're saying no to.

You don't even have time to process how you feel about it, if you want it, whether you're happy about it or not. All that's plaguing your mind is the gnawing thought of what if?

What if you'd found out two weeks earlier? What if you told him? What if that changed his mind? Would you still have him by your side if he knew he'd be a dad? Would this be a reason for joy and excitement for the two of you? Having your own little family, fucked up in its own way but miles better than your individual families.

You never met his, he never met your. Unlike him, though, you haven't seen your folks in years, five to be exact. He put up with his, you had cut off yours.

You're well versed into his family and their dynamics though, thanks to all the stories Mikey told you throughout the years. You specifically remember him talking about his siblings with such adoration. Natalie and Carmen. The only supposedly sane ones of the bunch.

Wiping the tears off your burning red cheeks, you regain control of your breathing, effectively calming yourself down as you take a long look at yourself in the mirror. You will yourself to put a hand over your belly, taking a moment to let the realization of there being a living thing inside you sink in.

Your and Mikey's baby.

A baby that'll never know the wonderful man that is their dad.

"Don't worry, baby. If they don't want us, we'll always have each other."

* * * * *

After a sleepless night, you find yourself struggling not to nod off on the train.

You thought you'd feel a lot more....well, something more as you approach the inevitable meeting with Mikey's brother. Instead, you're quite numb, immune to whatever you might be faced with once you arrive at the restaurant. Nothing he might say or do can faze you, not after the week you've had. Though you're pretty sure his hasn't been any better. He lost his brother after all. It could be a point of mutual understanding for the two of you or a point of collision and apperhension.

Only one way to find out.

You're surprised by the sheer boldness with which you enter the sandwich shop. Again, you thought you might exhibit at least mild hesitation but you have never been prone to such reservations. You still do things like you used to back in your dealer days - briskly-in-swiftly-out.

This is no different.

Upon entry, the interior feels familiar. You've been here only twice before, always after closing, snuck in by Mikey as a date night. He'd cook for you while you DJed with the restaurant sound system in the office. It was the peak of romance in your relationship.

Never once did you think one day you'd be coming in alone, during work hours, the memories bringing tears to your eyes.

You push the pain to the backburner when a waiter approaches you. "Welcome, what can I get ya?"

You force the closest thing to a smile you can manage, "Carmen Berzatto, if possible."

Just then, as if on cue, sounds of chaos flood out from the kitchen into the seating area. It doesn't really seem to bother any of the three tables enjoying their meal, but you are certainly a little shocked. You remember Mikey mentioning shit would get chaotic in back of house, but you'd never imagined it'd be this bad.

The waiter casually peers over his shoulder, pressing his lips in a thin line, "I can't promise you anything but I'll go ask. Who's asking for him?" He inquires, already uneasy at the thought of what he'll be met with in the kitchen.

"Mikey's girlfriend." You watch, in real time, as the poor guy's eyes hollow out in shock, his eyebrows raising impossibly high.

Despite being rattled by your response, he manages to clear his throat and murmur a quick, "Please wait here" before disappearing out of view.

Less than a minute later, the door to the kitchen swung open again, the man emerging from the kitchen shocking you with his lack of resemblance to Michael. Fair hair, bright blue eyes, overall soft features whereas Mikey was all sharp edges, dark brown hair and chocolate eyes.

He too, quite like his brother, is doing a poor job masking his confusion as he offers you a tattooed hand as a greeting, "Hi."

You take it, "Hi."

The rowdiness picks up yet again, causing Carmy to motion for you to follow him, "It's a little too loud in here." You nod and follow suit as he leads you out through a back exit to a fenced of area. He shuts the door, drowning out most of the noise before he turns back to face you, "Alright, tell me everything."

It takes all the will you have coupled with all the pride within you not to let yourself shed any tears as you sum up five of the best years of your life in front of this stranger. It gets especially hard when you see his eyes gloss over but you manage to keep it together. Your chest feels somewhat lighter once you bare one of the biggest secrets in your life, knowing there cannot be any repercussions now.

Because...well...he's gone.

"Fuck..." Is all Carmy can say to break the silence after you've concluded your story. His gaze is trained on the ground, his hand cupped around his mouth. He suddenly lifts his head to look at you, making you feel a little too exposed. Those eyes stare right through you. "Why didn't he ever tell us about you?"

You shrug, you have no real answer. You don't know why he would tell them but you're none the wiser as to why he didn't tell them either. So, you just stay quiet.

He nods, pausing for a second to collect his thoughts before speaking up again, "I-I gotta ask...did you suspect anything? Like, did you see any signs?"

You were expecting this. That doesn't mean it hurts any less to actually hear him ask it. You force yourself to inhale a shaky breath before replying, speaking around the knot in your throat, "No. I saw him that morning, he seemed fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. We were talking about the game. He was excited the Sox had won. He made us breakfast. I ironed his shirt for work and I sent him off. And...." You take a moment to maintain your composure, "...that was the last time I saw him."

"Fucking hell..." He sighs out, the curse pouring out from the depths of his soul. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, taking one and offering the pack to you, "You smoke?"

You shake your head, "Yeah, but I can't right now." You let out a bitter chuckle as you add on: "Last night...I found out I'm pregnant."

Carmy chokes on the puff he'd just inhaled, coughing out the smoke. He gives you a deer-in-headlights look, trying to gouge your reaction so he can mimic his accordingly. You help him out by giving him a slight smile, allowing him to reflect it back at you ten fold.

"No fucking way." He laughs, prompting you to nod, your eyes filling with tears for the millionth time today. He tosses his cigarette, motioning for you to approach him, "Come here." His arms wrap around you and you damn near break down, finally allowing yourself to shed those tears you've been holding back as you hug him back, squeezing him tightly.

You didn't realize how much you'd needed that hug, that comfort. You had no one to offer it to you. It's funny how quickly people can become important in our lives - in this case, only minutes after entering yours.

You're both startled when the door is thrown open revealing a man you don't recognize initially. His demeanor allows you to connect him to a name soon though.

"Cousin, what the fuck?! We're fighting a war in there...- oh, my bad." He straightens his attitude when he notices you, "Hi there."

Sniffling, Carmy wipes a stray tear before offering Richie a wide smile, "Cousin, we're gonna be uncles."

The confusion on his face provokes a laugh out of you, a genuine one at that. It's refreshing, nostalgic almost. And although you're well aware you'll have to retell your and Mikey's story several more times to catch people up to speed, you know that it'll be a little less dreadful each time.

* * * * *

It's over. The five minutes of utter hell and chaos are over.

You share a look of disbelief with Syd before bursting out in hysterical laughter, enveloping each other in a hug.

"We did it."

"We fucking did it."

Wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, you beam up at Richie who is equally as high on the feel of accomplishment. His arms wrap around you so tightly, he momentarily lifts you off the ground.

It's finally the calm after the storm. You can finally relax without waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You rush out to the dining are, going straight to Sugar and Pete's table where your one year old son is being entertained by the couple, cackling as Pete tickles his feet.

"Hope he wasn't too much trouble." You say as you approach their side, your voice prompting Sugar to get up and practically tackle you with upmost joy.

"Great job back there, Y/N." She beams at you, holding your hands tightly when she pulls away.

"You too, mama." You smile back, resting a hand over her swollen belly just in time to feel a kick.

Turning back to Calvin, you see him making grabby hands at you, giggling when you pick him up, peppering kisses all over his face, "Hi, baby!" You coo to him, adjusting his surprisingly still clean shirt. A fancy one, curtesy of Richie. Him, Fak and Calvin are in matching suits tonight and it's the most adorable thing. "Wanna go see uncle Carmy?"

It's ridiculous you even asked. The little boy cheers happily, kicking his feet as you carry him back to the kitchen, stopping in front of the freezer door to knock on it.

"What?!" You hear Carmy's rough voice boom from inside.

"Carmy!" Calvin calls out to his uncle, his tiny hands tapping on the freezer door, "Hiiii!"

"Hi Baby Bear." His tone has softened now, raising to an octave higher, "Your mommy is a badass, you know that."

"Oh he knows." You reply, resting your forehead on the cool metal, "We did it, Carm. We took care of it. Everything's handled, don't worry." You take this moment of calmness on his end to reassure him that no matter what anxieties are plaguing him, everything is and will be fine.

"I know you did, Y/N. You're an awesome team. Just wish I was in the fire with you, you know?" He says through a shaky breath, causing your heart to ache.

"Oh this was just the frying pan, dude. You'll be there for the many fires to come." Your words are successful in making him laugh, bringing you relief.

"I cook too!" Calvin proudly proclaims, making you both chuckle.

"You'll cook too, Teddy Bear. You'll be the best fucking chef ever." You gave up a while ago trying to shield Calvin from the sailor mouths of the Berzatto family and the restaurant as a whole. If he has a potty mouth from a very early age, you'll just blame it on his dad and uncles.

You never dreamed you'd find yourself in the cahoots of such a batshit crazy and immensely loving family. It really makes you feel a sense of fulfillment looking back at how far you've come and look forward knowing that you'll never come to a point where you'll be alone.

You'll always have your son, the Berzattos and The Bear by your side.

255 notes · View notes

damnikindadontcare · 4 months

Text

“As long is there is love, there will be grief”- Heidi Priebe

#I am once again thinking about The Bear and it’s representation of grief #the bear #carmy berzatto #mikey berzatto #natalie berzatto #richie jerimovich #sydney adamu #neil fak

386 notes · View notes

diningwiththeasquiths · 5 months

Text

The Bear + The Onion headlines

#do you think a depressed person could make THIS?? *shows you this post*#the bear #the bear fx #richard jerimovich #richie jerimovich #sydney adamu #syd adamu #sydrichie #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #natalie berzatto #sugar berzatto #michael berzatto #mikey berzatto #marcus brooks #tiffany jerimovich #tiff jerimovich #chef luca

279 notes · View notes

donatellawritings · 3 months

Text

candy necklace - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

content warning(s): language, smoking, age-gap, pining

song: candy necklace by lana del rey

The crisp Chicago winter air hit your tender scalp as you exited the taxi cab and ran your fingers through your freshly blown out hair. It probably wasn't the smartest decision for you to wear nothing but a mere hoodie that belonged to him, a skintight t-shirt that barely reached for belly button, and yoga pants that clung to your skin, but hey, it was your day off and the only outfit appropriate and comfortable enough to get your hair done in and pick up your paycheck in. Plus, you were well aware that he would be at the restaurant today, and thankfully The Bear wasn't busy enough, to where he'd have no choice but to drink in your appearance.

Approaching the tall and older man, you shove your hands into the pockets of the sweater, before stopping short in front of him. You watch with your bottom lip between your teeth as he wordlessly takes a pull from his cigarette, and loosens his tie to hang comfortably around his neck.

The two of you stand in silence as Richie taps the bottom of his cigarette, allowing the ashes to fall at his shoes, before raising his eyes to meet yours, "You here for your check?" He asks, his raspy voice like silk in your ears.

You nod, "and to see you," you take a step closer to Richie, catching how his shoulders and jaw begin to relax as the distance between your bodies begins to decrease.

Richie allows his shoulders to fall for a brief moment, before shaking his head and straightening his posture, "You're somethin' else, you know that?" His voice raises.

"Richie-" you begin.

"No, you don't get to fuckin' come here and stand there, when you aren't mine - do you not see how fucked up that is?" He rants, keeping his eyes locked solely on yours as you bring your gaze to your feet.

The brim of your eyes burn with welled tears as Richie's hand grabs ahold of your chin, a gentle yet firm touch. He opens his mouth to speak, but decides against it once you pull away from his touch, with a sniffle, "this isn't fair, you don't get to be upset with me," you hastily wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

Richie allows his hand to drop this his side as you point your finger at him, "Y-you let me slip away, that was you, not me," you suck in a breath, "I fucking wanted you, Richie, I didn't want to be with h-" you sigh.

Richie's baby blue eyes glaze over as he watches your emotions overtake every inch of you. He wants nothing more than to wrap you in his arms, kiss your hair, and tell you that everything will be okay, even if it won't be. And seeing you in his sweater, oh, that is what gets him. Even though your hateful tears are staining your cheeks, he can't help but feel envy of the way that the fabric of his sweater gets to envelope you, while he remains at a dangerously close, yet existent distance from you.

"Your check is in the office." Richie's voice cuts into you with no warning, his face stoic as you blink away any remanence of threatening tears away. You make your way towards the back door, Richie's hand grabbing onto your wrist, before you are able to open the door. Your eyes meet his as he pulls you into his chest and cradles the back of your head. His lips press a warm kiss to the skin of your forehead as you relax in the confines of his warm and slender arms. You inhale a shaky breath as you take in the smell of his cologne, mixed with the lingering air of his cigarette. Richie presses another kiss to your nose, and to your cheek, stopping right before your lips.

"I want you, I-I fuckin' need you, so fuckin' bad and that shit scares me," he rants as he moves his hand to cradle your face, "I hate seeing you with him, I hate that he gets to come home to you, gets every part of you, I wanted that since the moment I fuckin' met you."

"Richie-"

"No- no, just listen to me baby, I'm sorry, I'm fuckin' sorry." Richie pleads, leaning his forehead against yours as you raise your hands to cradle his face.

"Richie, listen to me." You cry, your lips ghosting against his, "I want you to kiss me, okay?"

And so he does. The moment you ask, Richie's lips are on yours and the two of you are feverishly grabbing at each other's limbs, as Richie pushes you against the brick wall, holding one of your hands above your head, interlocking your fingers. A moan leaves Richie's lips as you softly bite down into the skin of his bottom lip, before sucking on it.

"Come home with me," You mutter, breathlessly, licking over your lips, watching as Richie tightens his hold on your waist, "please, come with me and I'm all yours."

"Fuck." A moment passes, before Richie nods his head, moreso to himself than to you, "Yeah, yeah, anything you want, baby." He rasps, his forehead leaned against yours as his baby blue eyes drink in yours.

Richie's head lowers to your neck, his hand that once held onto your waist, now resting on your neck as his lips find the sweet spot right on your pulse, before softly suckling on the skin. Your head rolls back against the brick wall as Richie continues to work on the flesh of your neck. A soft moan leaves your lips as he softly licks the freshly bruised and broken skin. Richie continues this process for a few more minutes, until he is satisfied, pulling his lips away from your neck.

"I want you to leave him." Richie speaks, wiping the corners of his mouth while he adjusts the cuffs of his black button-down shirt, "you leave him and I'm all yours, I fuckin' promise you that."

A smile tugs on your lips as you slide your arms around the tall man's waist and push yourself to meet his lips, "Anything you want, Richie."

You pull away from Richie, your hands now reaching for the tie that messily hung around his neck, before grabbing ahold of the end of it and beckoning him to follow you inside of the building.

and that's all for now! I hope you all enjoyed my first writing, I promise that I have longer writings in the works, but I just wanted to post this, just to get a gist of what it's like to post <;3

feel free to send me any requests!

#the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich fanfic #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #mikey berzatto #richie jerimovich smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

158 notes · View notes

asexual-juliet · 11 months

Text

new season 2 bingo card just dropped

509 notes · View notes

eroticwound · 11 months

Text

ok ok i am thinking about richie calling carm ‘donna’ in the walk-in and also how much he’d tell carm to calm down in season 1 (“don’t blow a gasket”)… implying that richie thinks carm flies off the handle and has too many outsized emotions…

like i think about carmy thinking mikey and richie are fucking with him about claire in fishes and how emotional he gets… idk something about richie and mikey winding carmy up as a kid, having him explode, then treating him like his reactions are as unreasonable as his mom’s…….

#carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich #mikey berzatto #michael berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #donna berzatto #bear meta

399 notes · View notes

thebearer · 9 months

Note

can you make a fic of teenage teddy and (beekeeping age) carm?? like how their relationship would be and his reaction to her growing up so fast 😭

beekeeping age plzzzz lmao. he would be dilflicious and you all know he would!!! no real tw besides teenage teddy, underage drinking, and mentions to mikey???

"Cousin," Richie's voice was eerily calm on the other line. Carmen's eyes sprung open, sitting up in the bed, the grogginess from sleep was gone. "Don't freak out."

"What's goin' on? What happened?" Carmen didn't listen to Richie's advice, snatching the clock to see the time- three-twenty-two am.

"I said don't freak out, alright?" Richie tried again, the tone he used when he was about to tell Carmen something that would make him go nuclear.

"Don't fuck with me right now. What's goin' on?" Carmen's heart was hammering, shimmying on his sweat pants.

"Carm," You muttered, groggy and rasping through sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Go to sleep, baby. I got it." Carmen muttered, pressing a kiss to your head, hand stroking down your cheeks, the impressions of your pillow pressed into your still warm skin.

"Richie, I'm not fuckin' around anymore, ok? What's goin' on?" Carmen hissed, shutting the door softly, padding down the dark hall.

"Carmen, I want to remind you that we have all been teenagers before. Very young, very stupid." Richie hummed.

Carmen's spine went rigid, icy fear shooting through his nervous system. His eyes flickered up the stairs. Teddy.

"Where are you?" Carmen snatched his keys and coat, patting the pocket to make sure his Spirits were in there- he deserved one, he could already tell.

"I'm at my house, but listen- it's not bad, ok?" Richie tried again, his voice raising a little higher to emphasize over Carmen's ramblings.

"What did she do? Is she ok?" Carmen snapped, slamming the car door shut and tearing out of the garage like a lunatic, pulling onto the unusually calm Chicago streets, tearing towards Richie's house.

Carmen was buzzing- maybe with rage, maybe with fear, maybe both. The fifteen year old had managed to sneak out, going to some party with Eva, who was a sophomore at UIC now. The two had always been close, and now that Eva was in college, they were even closer. How Teddy managed to talk her cousin into bringing her to a college party, no one was sure. The campus police busted it up and found Teddy there, making her call her parent to come get her. Carmen tried to ignore the sinking in his chest that Teddy had called Richie over him.

Teddy looked entirely too old sitting on Richie's couch, in a sweatshirt that clearly covered up whatever she was wearing.

"Go." Carmen gave a sharp jerk of his head, pushing the front door open. "Go to the car."

"Dad, I-"

"-Now, Dorothea." Carmen snapped, tracking her with furious eyes while she stomped out the door.

Richie waited until the car door shut to snicker. "That kid," He pointed towards Carmen's car. "Fuckin' Mikey reincarnated, cousin."

"Don't." Carmen shook his head. "Don't fuckin' say that."

"Cousin, hey, woah. I meant that as a compliment, what's the matter with you?" Richie held his hands up in defense.

"A compliment? Mikey was a fuckin' drug addict and blew his brains out-"

"-Carmen, hold up." Richie cut him off, wide eyes that steadied Carmen's shaking nerves. "You... You fuckin' know I would never... Carm." Richie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Mikey wasn't always a junkie or-or addicted to that shit, ok? I know you fuckin' know that."

Carmen could feel his heart drop, the lump growing thicker and thicker in his throat. It had been years now since Mikey's death, but there were still times it would hit Carmen. Crashing, furious waves that had his chest tightening at the thought.

"Teddy... she's a fuckin' funny kid, alright? That's all I meant. She reminds me of Mikey when we were in high school. Doin' stupid shit and havin' fun. She's a kid, and she's a good kid. Better than Mikey, actually, she's got a better head on her shoulder." Richie said. Carmen didn't move, just let him talk.

"It's not a bad thing to say she's like Mikey. She's a good kid and so was he. He... I mean, he fucked up bad and got all fucked up, but... he was always still good."

"Yeah," Carmen croaked, wiping his nose to hide his emotions. He could see Teddy in the passenger seat, head pressed against the window, scrolling 'sneakily' through her phone (the glare gave her away).

"She didn't snitch on Eva, you know that?" Richie snorted lightly. "Cops asked her who she was with, and she said she was just walkin' by and saw it."

Carmen rolled his eyes. Richie grinned. "That's some Mikey shit right there, don't even say it's not."

"It is." Carmen nodded. "Thanks f'pickin' her up."

"C'mon," Richie shook his head. "Go easy on her, Carm. She's a kid."

Carmen waved him off, hands balled in his jacket when he got in the car. Teddy glanced at him carefully, while Carmen backed out of the drive.

They both didn't say anything, Richie's words ringing around his head. "You hungry?" Carmen muttered.

"What?" Teddy squeaked, a little surprised at his calm demeanor.

"You hungry?" Carmen asked, looking over at her. She wasn't the little toddler that used to clamber around The Bear in plastic heels. No, she was growing up. Older now, looking more like you every single day.

"Yeah." Teddy muttered.

Carmen turned into a diner, a twenty-four-seven one he'd taken you when the two of you were younger. Way younger, before kids, before you ever really even knew each other- when your relationship was new and exciting.

It was dingier now, still smelled like old grease and batter. The coffee was still burnt when it was poured into his cup. Teddy still ordered chocolate chip pancakes which made Carmen's heart swell.

"Hey," Carmen muttered, catching a reflection of his own eyes staring back at him, on a face that looked so much like yours. "I, uh, I want you to know if you ever... If you're ever in a situation like that again, you know you can call me or mom."

Teddy blinked back at him, careful and waiting. "We're not... I mean, we're not gonna be mad if you ever need us, ok? You can always call me if you need to- you should always call me if you need to."

Teddy nodded slowly, twirling her straw around her glass. "So... you're not mad?" She asked hesitantly.

Carmen snorted lightly. "I'm not thrilled, but I'm not mad." He said. "I'm glad you're ok."

Teddy nodded again, lips twisting in thought- just like you did. "So does that mean I'm not in trouble?"

Carmen smirked. "What do you think, kid?" He snorted, shaking his head. Teddy's face fell slightly, face falling in a sullen pout but she nodded anyways.

Carmen made sure Teddy was in her bed when they got home, tucking her in with a kiss to her head, like he always did when she was little. You felt the bed dip, turning towards Carmen's warm chest, his arms finding your waist easily. He smelled faintly like cigarette smoke, stale grease.

"What was wrong with the restaurant?" You muttered, eyes still closed, face burying against his chest.

Carmen would let you think it was the restaurant, at least until the morning. No reason to worry you when Teddy was back home safe. "I got it handled, baby. Go back to bed." His hand slid down your hair, your body melting into his easily.

Carmen lied awake, holding you against his chest, thinking back to Mikey. The good times with Mikey, when he was loud and fun and carefree, always messing with Carmen and just fun. Thinking back to the Mikey he was before. He missed his brother, he did, but Richie was right- Teddy had so many similarities to him, all the good ones. The thought made Carmen comforted, that he still had a part of his brother's spirit still here with him, little reminders of Mikey in his daughter.

729 notes · View notes

33-81 · 11 months

Text

Compliments to the chef

346 notes · View notes

angelcakestarlet · 3 months

Text

white mustang

dbf! richie jerimovich x reader

after your estranged father, mikey berzatto, passes away, who else is there to lean one but his best friend richie?

mike never had to say it out loud, but it was pretty evident that you weren't meant to 'happen'. you were just a reminder that his lifestyle would catch up to him eventually, as it had already done once with you. he tried to be there, bringing you down to the beef on days he could convince your mom to let him see you. he'd keep you in the office with some sandwich wraps to color on and crayons, showing you off to tina and everyone else in the kitchen who had convinced themselves that maybe, just maybe, you would be bear's saving grace. when richie found out mikey had knocked some broad up, he was conflicted. upset because he believed a kid would put a stop to the fun waiting for them in the rest of their twenties and yet to come thirties, slightly relieved because he finally had something worth pushing for. and for a while, you were just that. the staff saw it, richie saw it, you were keeping him just that more sane, just enough. yeah he was a father now but that didn't stop him from joining richie on deal runs, you in the car seat he bought from baby's r us last minute. and until the age of 15, he was (mostly) there, as much as his mind allowed him to be. he had outbursts, your mom didn't want you near him or "that piece of shit restaurant", you and everyone else could tell it was going from okay to bad. and bad quickly became scary, when you wouldn't see him for months. you'd be forced to text richie asking where the fuck your dad was, if he was okay. but richie never had an answer and mike didn't either. but you could see it in his eyes when you would finally stumble upon him after every other month, he had been somewhere inside him that was dark. the longest you went without hearing from him was six months, half a year. your 17th birthday had passed and tina, sugar, pete, ebraheim, cicero, and the rest of the family celebrated with you in the restaurant trying to distract you and themselves from the fact no one, not even richie, could seem to find mike. you saw him one last time, right before he died, after not hearing from him for months he invited you over. it was your second year of college and you were just trying to make it by when you got a call from a number you didn't recognize. you immediately recognized his voice, he was asking you to come over. you reluctantly agreed, being greeted to a messy house with papers everywhere and pill bottles littering little crevices in failed attempts to hide them from himself. that night, he cooked for you one last time. a part of you convinced yourself there was hope left behind his eyes, watching his back profile moving around the kitchen and whipping up a dish like he used to. how he used to sit you on the counter top, made you taste everything with your small hands while richie laughed his ass off at how huge his chain was on you calling you "a fucking g". two months later he shot himself. at the bottom of your stomach behind the sadness and guilt, you almost felt, cathartic? not because he was dead, no. but because you'd never have to wait months to hear from him again, or look down alleyways in hopes of seeing him, or have to look in his eyes and see the glimpse of someone he could have been. you start hanging around the restaurant more despite sugars protests. you never did well coping with your addict father when he was alive, when he'd leave you'd seek that nausea and sinking feeling he brought you elsewhere. it was easy to stumble upon all kinds of trouble, you were young, you were beautiful, and worst of all you were chasing the feeling you knew mike would and could never bring you.

a few months after his death, carmy's recent resurgence, and multiple trips to the bar downtown you decided the comfort of vodka seltzers and the pervy bartender was no longer enough. you were leaving the beef one night, passing by carmy's office to steal his carton of sapphires when you met richie outside for a smoke. "you finally ditch the marbolo red's, kid?" it was a cool spring evening in chicago, you wore your white sundress over warm socks. "you wish, richard" you let out a small laugh, "i'm just saying those are for pansies or hookers no in between, sweetheart." you looked at him baffled by whatever led him to that conclusion. "so what you're saying is the last hooker you had to hire to suck you off smoked malboro's?" you looked at him, reaching into him jean pocket and stealing his lighter. he scoffed, "you know i miss when you didn't have that fucking mouth on ya." he jabbed his cigarette in your direction, clenching his teeth. you chuckled at how easily he got riled up, he just loved arguing. "okay, old man. i'm going down to the bar, you coming or not?" you took a short drag of the cigarette, not used to the taste of carmy's choice in smokes. "why so i can watch you flirt with some jagoff for drinks all night?" he grimaced, "key word is, free, drinks, richie." he stepped on what was left of his cigarette at the word 'free', nodded, and began walking to his car.

richie shamelessly watched your dress hike up the back of your soft thighs as you leaned over the bar to get closer to the bartender. you had that berzatto gift (curse?) of being so fucked up it was hot. richie always felt a tinge of guilt when he perked up at the sight of your legs beneath a skirt, or your cleavage being hugged by your low shirts and dresses. but he told himself it was always okay to look if he wasn't going to do anything about it. and even if he wanted to, he knew mike would've killed him, or carmen, or tina. you sauntered your way back to the table with a round of shots and two beers. "do you have no shame, sweetheart?" he jokingly asked taking his beer into his own hand. "you tell me" you let out before throwing back a shot. he let out a chuckle, you were really something. as you threw your head back with the shot glass he made out the skin and freckles adorning on your neck beneath the dim light. he noticed how quickly you went back for seconds, and a third, until you were leaning over the table speaking to him in a hushed voice. he had downed the same amount as you had, but he was a 45 year old man who towered over you. "richie?" you spoke in a combination of a whisper and giggle, "how much do you wanna bet i can get that guy over there to get us another free round?". richie wouldn't bet a dollar that the guy wouldn't, seeing as he had his eyes glued to your ass the entire night. maybe it was the alcohol, but the guy's looming gaze felt like a god damn bee buzzing in richie's ear. and you entertaining dick's like him made it ten times worse. "god, i never took you as such a slut." he looked at you, eyebrows raised almost mockingly. your tipsy smile fell, "what the fuck, richie". you got up out of the bar stool, making a squeak against the floor and sped your way out the bar. richie took one last swing off his beer before making his way after you. he found you in back of the bar, only illuminated by the yellowish street lamp a few feet away. you were sniffling, crying in between small hiccups. richie kneeled down in front of you and brought his hand to cup your cheek, "you're lost, sweetie, look at you. getting drunk on weekdays and doing god knows what for a free round of drinks. it's not your fault," your tears stopped falling, entranced with how bright his eyes contrasted against the darkness surrounding you as he grabs the hem of your dress toying with it, "you've got no one to guide you, take care of you. you just need someone to take care you, huh?" his voice dripped with a condescension that made something bubble in the depths of your stomach. you nodded your head against his hand, looking at him through wet lashes, "let me help you, doll" he wiped past your tears with his rough thumb. he knew it was wrong, dirty, but he'd rather it be him than some 20 year old schmuck who would pretend to know you. richie knew you, the darkest parts of you. "can you help me, richie? please" you let out quietly. richie smiled, sickeningly sweet, as he brought his thumb down to swipe past your shiny bottom lip that was sticky with lip gloss. you felt your mouth drop open as if his finger took control of you, "poor thing, you've got no clue what to do with yourself. acting like a slut for anybody when you know who you'll come running to." his thumb entered your parted lips, you closed around him swirling your tongue around and humming against him. he let out a groan, "i'm the only one who can take care of you, okay?". you felt like you were floating, between the alcohol and richie's presence consuming you. you stared at his lips with hazy eyes and let go of his thumb with a 'pop', "kiss me" you barely whispered, "don't be rude, doll." he brought his hand down, holding you by the crevice of your neck, "richie, i need you". he roughly brought his mouth down to yours, letting it devour you. you whined into his mouth as he bit down on your lip. he detached himself, a string of saliva connecting you. he brought his hand down his face, staring at your puffy lips. he knew he was fucked.

pt 2?

#richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich imagine #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #richie #the bear fx #mikey berzatto #michael berzatto #bear berzatto #sugar berzatto #natalie berzatto

143 notes · View notes

garbinge · 1 year

Text

Shoulder to cry on

Richie Jerimovich x Reader

Day 23 from these April Prompts: “Somethings aren’t replaceable”

Summary: Mikey’s funeral brings an unexpected person into your life more. Continuation of these fics: Pillow Forts and Soft Spot.

Word Count: 8.7k (i got carried away, okaaaaaay)

A/N: okay, this is probably one of my FAVORITE fics, this universe as a whole is my favorite but this specific fic just... has a special place in my heart. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Heavy angst, shit talking, cursing (lots), mentions of death, drugs, drinking, abuse, alludes to sexual situations. The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

Previous Fic: Soft Spot

Everything was moving so slow. The people, the time, the words coming out of people’s mouths. A lot of sorrys, a lot of introductions, a lot of really old people with that old people scent to them. You felt alone. In a room full of people you considered family, you felt alone. Carmy was nowhere to be found. You booked the flight for him, a cheap spirit flight, you could care less about the money wasted, you just needed to know he was alive. Not okay. Because who the fuck was going to be okay. Just alive.

You shook the 18th person’s hand, you kept count because it was the only thing keeping you awake and grounded within the moment. There was an empty seat next to Pete in the front row, but something felt off about sitting there. Sure, the Berzatto’s were family to you since you were 7, you spent more time there than your own house, the siblings were your best friends, your bullies, and your protectors. All signs pointed to your right to sit in that receiving line reserved for immediate family, but when it came down to it you weren’t a Bear. Mikey Bear. Sugar Bear. Carmy Bear. You never got that nickname, because you weren’t a Berzatto. It never mattered to you, it never even crossed your mind, that was until this moment. You felt someone’s hand on your back, shaking you lightly out of your thoughts.

The blond that the world knew as Natalie, but you knew as Sugar, was offering you a soft smile and bending down to be eye level with you as you sat at the end of the aisle in the back.

“Hey.” Your body turned to look at her, grabbing the hand that was on your shoulder into your own. Your voice was soft, like her smile.

“You know you can sit in the front row, there’s a seat next to Pete but I’ll kick him down one and you can sit right next to me.” Her hand squeezed yours. You appreciated the offer, but you weren’t sure if you could handle the extended family asking who you were. By the looks of it, that's all that was left. You had said hello to Uncle Jimmy, cousin Nicky, and Carol, and just about everyone who knew you or at least your face. The rest of everyone who showed up were people who only knew the siblings from the one baby picture they had seen from 25 years ago and you weren’t about to deal with that.

“Thanks, that means more than you know.” You rested your forehead against hers and you both closed your eyes. There was a part of you that wished you could stay in this moment forever, not think about Carmy, not think about Mikey, just be with the one sibling who showed up.

You pulled your head away when there was some commotion by the front door, some woman had burst into tears and made a scene. Sugar made a face that she quickly disguised immediately, but you had caught it. Probably someone just looking for attention, funerals tended to bring them out.

“I hate that bitch.” Sugar seethed. “I don’t even know that bitch.” She shook her head like she was shaking the thought to fall out of her mind.

You let out a little laugh at her statement, unable to hold it in and directly brought your hand to your mouth to cover it. Sugar looked at you shocked, her eyes wide and a small smile creeping onto her face as she let out a snort and followed suit by bringing her hand to her mouth.

“Fuck that bitch.” You whispered in between chuckles. That statement made her lose it but she was able to hold it in well, only a few people were looking at you two laughing in the middle of Mikey Berzatto’s funeral. He would have loved it.

The two of you took a deep breath, letting the moment naturally pass. You grabbed her hands again and squeezed. “I think I’m going to stay back here.”

There was no more explanation needed, she understood and wasn’t going to push or argue with you. Hell, you weren’t going up against the craziest competition, but you had shown up and apparently that was all it took to be on Sugar’s good side.

“Sug.” Richie’s voice alerted the both of you. She stood up and you thought this was going to go one of two ways. She was either going to slug him or ignore him. To your surprise, she did neither. In a turn of events that left you shocked, you couldn’t pry your eyes away from her embrace with Richie. I guess you were right when you thought that showing up really was the only criteria needed to be on Sugar’s good side right now.

Before you knew it, the hug was over and Sugar was back in the front of the funeral home. Richie was standing completely still, his eyes were looking at the casket, getting lost in what you were sure were memories and regret. You saw something shift in him as he looked at the casket which is when you extended your hand out to place it on his arm.

“Rich.” You whispered hoping it would get his attention. He didn’t look at you until your hand touched his arm, and that was out of instinct. “He’s not in there.” Your voice was softer than before. It was a secret that only you and maybe 3 others were in on. He had gotten cremated, but Sugar knew the family was going to have a lot to say, so they rented the casket for the viewing. It was twisted, but it was the Berzatto way.

“What?” Richie questioned in the same tone as you.

You moved over a seat and patted where you just were for Richie to sit. Without hesitation he sat down which is when you leaned your right shoulder against him and whispered again.

“Natalie got him cremated, he’s not in the casket.” For some reason, you knew it’d give him some type of relief, some type of breathing room. Once you said it, he let out a sigh, and you could tell he loosened up a bit.

“I just felt like–” He started to try and explain himself but couldn’t get the sentence out. He stuttered a couple more times when you brought your hand to rest on his leg that was shaking. Richie stopped moving the second your hand landed on his leg.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Richie. Not to me at least.” You shrugged and stared straight ahead, your hand still on his knee. “And you don’t need to stop shaking your leg either. This is all fucked up. You can be fucked up.”

You removed your hand from his leg, he frowned at the loss of heat and also as he tried to take in every word that you said.

The two of you sat there, next to each other, backs straight, hands picking at skin or nails. 45 minutes must have passed, no one else came up to either of you. Richie didn’t move, he didn’t make an attempt to go up and kneel at the casket, look at the pictures, or try and talk to anyone else. As the time passed, you thought the place would empty out, but it just got busier. I guess what Carmy had said to you was right. Everyone felt like Mikey was their best friend. While it made Carmy jealous, it made you happy. To know Mikey the way you did felt like an honor, it was also nice knowing he knew you too.

“You want a cigarette?”

Staring at Richie, you nodded your head and stood up without hesitation, he was up and out of the funeral home within seconds, you were actually trying to figure out if you ever saw Richie move so quickly before. Maybe once before, when he was scaring off your ex at the restaurant with a fuckin 22.

The two of you moved to the side of the building that had the wheelchair access ramp. It was away from most people who had congregated in the front and were arriving and leaving. There were a few scattered people here, but it was less likely someone was going to bother you. He lifted the parliament box and brought it to his mouth, taking a cigarette out with his mouth before offering the open box to you. It had been a while since you had one, so you stared at the box for half a second before grabbing the white stick in between your fingers. Richie searched his pockets for a lighter, patting down his suit jacket pocket, inside and out.

“This is why I fuckin’ hate these things, too many pockets.” He mumbled with the cig between his lips.

“Said no girl ever.” The joke mumbled back at him as he found the lighter and brought it to your cigarette first before his own.

Leaning against the wall of the parlor you both looked out into the section of woods that was just past the building. It was probably one of the few areas around you that had a large section of trees in Chicago, and large was probably an overstatement.

You felt yourself getting lightheaded as the smoke burned. You were just about halfway done when you felt yourself wobble a little, the nicotine high hitting you stronger than you expected.

“You alright?” Richie was leaning forward trying to get a look at your face.

“Yea, it’s just been like a year or something since I’ve had a smoke. The nicotine high was just getting me a little dizzy.”

He let out a laugh. “Fuckin’ amateur.”

You let out a scoff to match his laugh, “Alright, Richie. You got me beat at smoking cigarettes. You win.” Your voice had a mocking tone to it.

He enjoyed the back and forth, you could tell by the smile on his face. It was probably the only genuine smile on his face today, which you wouldn’t blame him for.

“Have you talked to Carmy?” All your thoughts came barreling down as you saw someone walk by with a blue denim hat that looked just like Carmy’s. Your heart rate was raised, and that mixed with the lightheadedness was starting to make you breathe a bit heavier.

“No, I haven’t.” Richie’s answer didn’t make you feel better. He must’ve noticed because he followed it up with a question. “I’m guessing you haven’t either?”

“No. He isn’t answering my calls or texts.” Your phone was being pulled out of your pocket so you could show him the constant texts.

You: 2:28PM yesterday Hey, I’m tracking your flight, says it’s landing in 40 minutes, I’ll be at the airport waiting for you.

You: 3:06PM yesterday Hey, I’m here, text me when you land.

You: 3:34PM yesterday It says you landed, Carm. Where are you?

You: 3:56PM yesterday Carmy. If you missed your flight it’s okay, we can get a new one, no worries.

You: 4:25PM yesterday Forget the fucking flight can you just let me know you’re alive?

You: 5:05PM yesterday Carmy.

You: 6:32PM yesterday Pulse check.

You: 7:13PM yesterday Pulse Check.

You: 8:55PM yesterday For fucks sake Carmy. PULSE CHECK.

You: 6:55AM today I’m going to assume you’re okay. But please, when you can just answer my pulse checks please.

You: 4:25PM today Thinking of you. Love you.

You were expecting Richie to give you shit for the amount of texts you sent and you were surprised when he didn’t.

“I guess that means he’s not answering calls either.” He took a big drag of his cigarette and shook his head. “What’s pulse check?”

“It’s just something we came up with when we moved out of Chicago, things got busy but it was our way of checking in making sure the other person’s okay.” You explained the reasoning behind the words. “He’s never not answered one.” The last fact was added so Richie could understand where your worry came from.

“Kid’s a mess.”

For a second, you went to defend him. Old habits die hard, you know. But then you really took in what he said it was true. Carmy was a mess. Even before this. You were still mad at him, though.

“I texted. I called. Hell, I thought to send a fucking carrier pigeon but he’d probably just kill it and call it squab de papier.” An awful french accent came out of your mouth and Richie looked at you impressed, his nostrils flaring as he blew air out of them in a half laugh before letting a real laugh out.

“That was good.” He nodded and tossed the bud to the ground and stepped on it.

“I know, I’m funny.” A frown wrinkled on your forehead and you squinted your eyes before smiling.

You both laughed again as you started leaning into one another, shoulders grazing against the other. It was what you both needed, something light to get you through the heaviness of the night and the week to come. In the middle of your laughing fit, there was a loud backfire of a car in the funeral parlor lot. It sounded like a gunshot, which wasn’t unheard of in Chicago, but considering the circumstances, it caused you to freak out for a moment.

Your fingers straight away went to grab Richie’s arm pretty tightly. Out of impulse, he stepped in front of you. Scanning the parking lot and the others around it was pretty quickly that he realized the noise was a car backfiring and not shots.

“Fuckin’ afterburn.” He looked over his shoulders to see your terrified face. It was still something new to him, you were never scared. The only other time he remembered seeing you remotely like this was that day at The Beef, with that douchebag. “C’mon, let’s go sit down before you fall over nicotine newbie.” He grabbed your arm and guided you over to the bench that was tucked away in the corner.

You never were able to shake the feeling, you two just sat there, in silence as you tried to get back to whatever you considered normal at a time like this.

“You got a ride home?”

Looking around you saw that it had gotten pretty empty, you looked at your phone for the time or maybe a text from Carmy.

“Yea I drove myself.”

Richie’s face looked like he was about to question or protest your means of transportation.

“I’ll be alright, Richie.”

“Alright well pulse check me when you’re home or whatever.”

You went to argue on the usage of the term when you looked at Richie, like really looked at him. It was genuine. He actually cared that you made it home. You simply nodded and offered him a quick wave before walking away.

_________

Time was passing slowly, and when you’re looking towards time to heal all wounds, you had to take the whole passing by leisurely thing as disrespectful as possible. The days felt long and the weeks felt even longer. It was 2 weeks to the day since Mikey’s funeral, and 3 weeks to the day since it happened. Your apartment was lonely, it always was but when your best friend was ignoring you and the guy you looked at like a big brother just killed himself, the loneliness followed you differently. You did whatever you could to pass the time. Visited Sugar and Pete, went down to the beef occasionally to see everyone, called Carmy, had 30 second conversations with him, which to be honest you cherished over the silent treatment. In addition to that, you also took on extra shifts at work, the barista position wasn’t exactly bringing in the cash but it paid the bills and the overtime put money into a rainy day fund. Plus, it was what you loved. Coffee.

It was another Tuesday night where you fell asleep on the couch. Your mattress was more of a decoration these days than an actual useful piece of furniture. The ringing of your phone turned you over, the sound was different than the normal alarm chime you were used to waking up to. As you came more to it, you realized that your alarm wasn’t going off and it was actually someone calling you.

1:14AM.

The time flashed above the unknown caller number.

“Hello?” The raspiness of your voice was hard to mask, your hand scratched at your eyes trying hard to wake yourself up. It was then that you realized you answered an unknown number at 1AM without any hesitancy.

He said your name in a way that you could hear the embarrassment in his voice. You knew who it was right away. Who would have thought that hearing Richie’s voice at 1AM would have been what woke you up entirely.

“I–uh,” You could imagine his head hanging low as he spoke to you. It was obvious why he was calling. Late night, unknown number. It didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. “I need your help.”

He sounded like a little kid, even with his age difference, he felt below you. It wasn’t really a feeling you wanted to dwell in, you didn’t like it one bit.

“I’m locked up and need you to bail me out.” The words flew together so quickly that even though, you knew what he was going to ask, it still took you a minute to process.

“CPD or Northwestern?” The keys were already being scooped up from your coffee table.

“CPD.”

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you held the phone to your ear, slipping one arm into your jacket. Chicago Police Department meant a more serious charge, it wasn’t loitering or vandalism. It was a step up from that, but you weren’t going to ask him on the police line. “I’ll be there in 20.”

With that, you hung up and quickly slid your other arm through your jacket as you ran out of your apartment.

The ATM wasn’t exactly your favorite place to be at 1:43 AM in downtown chicago, but you also didn’t want to be at CPD either. You stuffed the cash in your pocket quickly and walked into the station.

After you posted bail, Richie was out within minutes. Good thing about Tuesdays were they were generally slow nights.

The black eye he was sporting was red in irritation and starting to discolor. You assumed it had to do with his little stint in the slammer but you weren’t going to ask questions, yet.

“Thanks.” He mumbled the appreciation, still clearly embarrassed.

You nodded and got into the car, immediately turning over the ignition to get the car warm.

He stood outside the car, like he was waiting for an invite in or debating walking home.

“You thinking of freezing to death or do you want me to send you a formal invitation to get in the fuckin’ car?” You had leaned over to open the passenger door from the inside.

“I didn’t really wanna ask for a car ride home, too.”

He was like a dog with his tail between his legs and you truly hated it.

“Alright, 1. It’s not a big deal, Richie. Relax. 2. I’m not taking you home, you woke me up, you owe me a cup of coffee or a drink.”

Richie awkwardly got into the car.

“Liquor store is closed now” Richie pointed to the car clock, his voice starting to level and sound normal. “And all your stupid fuckin’ coffee places cost probably the same amount as my bail. Which– how did you pay for that?”

“Rainy day fund. I’ve been picking up extra shifts lately.”

“Thanks, I’ll pay you back.” He answered automatically how one does when they’ve borrowed money.

“Just show up to court.” You offered a different answer in response.

He nodded and brought his hands to his head, like wiping them across his face was going to wipe the shame of the night away.

“I have good coffee at my place. And I have alcohol. You down? There’s no way I’m going back to sleep tonight.”

“Yea I’m down.”

———-

You walked back into your apartment, keys hitting the table with a light throw, your jacket being flung on the couch. As you circled back around your kitchen table from the couch you approached the freezer. Grabbing a pack of something vegetable like and frozen to give to Richie.

“Here,” You tossed him the frozen mixed veggies. “For that gnarly eye.”

His face twisted in sarcasm as he nodded at you, which instead of being bitchy back you just smiled. You’d take this over embarrassed Richie anyday.

“I feel like I don’t need to ask but, alcohol or coffee?”

“Alcohol.” He responded too quickly. “Please.” The added pleasantry was appreciated.

Grabbing two glasses and filling them with ice, you brought them over to the small dingey bar cart that sat next to your open window on your 5th floor apartment.

“I’ve got rum, gin, vodka, tequila. All bottom shelf and probably expired. Pick your poison.”

“Gin.”

His answer shocked you, you expected vodka or him to ask for something dark. You had already scripted some beggars can’t be choosers response back in your head that you were forced to table.

Placing the glasses and two bottles on the table, you passed him the gin and pushed his glass towards him.

“Tequila, huh?” The question came as he poured the ginninto his glass.

“Always my drink of choice.” You nodded and sat at the head of the table with him to your right. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

He had already downed what would be his first shot of many, and started to repour his glass a little higher now. After another sip, he replaced the veggies against his eye with the glass of gin.

“Wanna? no.” He retorted.

“Assault and disturbing the peace?” You read off both charges that were sitting in your head.

The look he gave you was annoying to describe in the least. “How—?”

“To pay bail they tell you the charges. To make sure you want to go through with vouching for someone.”

It was your turn to refill your glass now.

“I don’t know I was down at Cerces, bunch of fuckin’ shmucks in suits and shit, I just wanted to drink and hang out.” He shrugged his shoulders as he explained the situation. “Who the fuck am I kidding, I fucking slugged this motherfucker for being a smart ass. He got me back.” He pointed to his eye with his free hand. “Got kicked out and then decided to make some noise on the street.”

You looked over at Richie, eyebrows raised waiting for him to tell you what he said.

“Guy had a British accent, must’ve been traveling for work or something so I called him a wanker. The last word he spoke came out in an accent that made you almost spit out your drink from choking on it.

Richie choked down a laugh at your reaction.

“Why?” You leaned back in your seat.

“Why?” His voice raised in question as his brows furrowed.

“Yea, why’d you do it?”

“I don’t know just somethin’ to fuckin’ do.” He spat out quickly.

“It’s a tuesday fuckin’ night. Sleeping is what you should be doing, you gotta be at The Beef in what? 4 hours? To pick up the meat shipment tomorrow morning.”

Richie looked a little in awe as he stared at you.

“I spent half my time at the restaurant, Richie. I know the schedules, I know the people, I know.” The last two words were deeper. They meant more. You were trying to tell him that you knew what he was going through, not like the people who shook his hand and offered their condolences, but like a person who spent a lot of time with Mikey and was now feeling that loss every day.

“You uh,” Riche leaned forward on the table like he was gearing himself up to ask you something. There was silence in the kitchen for a beat, you didn’t say anything, he’d say what he wanted in time.

“I just can’t shake the damn guilt.” His head was practically touching the table as he leaned forward trying to get out his thoughts. “I should’ve fuckin’ chained him to the desk or something, or intervention his ass with rehab.”

He wasn’t really looking for an answer or response, he was just talking, so you sat there listening.

“I don’t know what the fuck to do. Every day I’m just like waiting for something and I don’t know what.” He slammed his hand on the table in frustration and leaned back.

The loud noise caused you to jump. His eyes darted to yours. “Sorry babe.” He apologized quickly and brought his drink to his lips again, taking a big gulp. “It’s like fucking groundhogs day.”

“Not today, though.” A smile filled your face. “Unless you get arrested frequently and you’re working your way through your contacts.”

“First time in 4 years.” He corrected you like it was something to be proud of. “Drunk indecency, with Mikey.” The charge was explained to you.

“Oh. I remember. Mikey called Sugar and she called me on the way to pick you both up.” You looked smug as you drank your tequila.

“I don’t even know why I went out tonight.” Richie started up again. You were following him, he was spiraling but it seemed to be somewhat helpful to him. “I just want to feel fucking normal again.”

You took a breath, preparing yourself to respond back to him but he cut you off.

“And I don’t want to hear that stupid bullshit, ‘some things aren’t replaceable Richie, you gotta move on.’ Fuck off.” He was speaking to you but he wasn’t really speaking to you.

“I was just gonna say me too.” Your voice was soft which wasn’t really like you.

“Fuuuuuccckkkk.” Richie groaned at the overwhelm of emotions and went to grab the bottle of gin to pour more into his glass, you both had lost count of how many glasses this was but neither of you cared.

“Anyways, enough about my shitshow of a life, how are you doin’?” He wasn’t even looking at you but when he asked the words hit you in your core. Why did you feel like you were going to cry? Maybe because over the last 3 weeks no one really cared how you were. Sure, people asked but they didn’t care. And even though Richie wasn’t even paying full attention to you, you knew he was genuinely asking. Maybe it was also because your best friend hadn’t asked you that in over a couple years. So Richie asking you this brought out a lot of emotion.

“Yo. You fuckin’ good?”

“Sorry. Zoned out.”

“So, how the fuck are you?” He repeated the question.

You let out a laugh that was followed by a few stray tears. “I don’t even know.” You laughed again as more tears fell. “Carmy won’t talk to me, he hasn’t talked to me truly in god damn years it feels like, my dad is who the fuck knows where, and I just lost the only Berzatto who gave me the time of day.” You let out a deep exhale. “And that’s not to shit on Sugar, she’s just been doing her own shit. It’s more shitting on Carmy.” You clarified yourself as you stabilized your voice more.

“If you want to turn this into a shit on Carmy fest, we can. I’ve got ammo for days.”

“That’s the best part, I don’t even want to shit on him. I just want him here. I want him to be present. Carmy is my best. fucking. friend. I don’t have anyone else.” Richie could get that. That’s what Mikey was to him, and even though Carmy was still alive, he understood what it was like to watch as you lost a friend. He watched it with Mikey.

“He doesn’t even know that I was getting the shit beat out of me in Minneapolis all those years ago. He does know that my dad’s been in and out because that’s been just a normality in my life, but he hasn’t asked. I tried to tell him about Mikey, but he didn’t even let me get a word out. And you know what, I don’t even give a shit. I fucking get it. Mikey pushed him away and welcomed me in with open arms and that hurt him. I’d be furious. But he doesn’t know that I was struggling. I left practically all my shit in Indianna and flew to fucking New York with my last $300 dollars. I had to open up a $500 limit credit card just to book my flight back home. Which is when I came to the beef and while Carmy was blowing me off, Mikey was literally the complete opposite. He called me. He checked in on me. He sent me home with leftovers. And I couldn’t even just tell him to lay off the fuckin’ drugs!” You were worked up, your voice carried through the apartment. The echo of your hand slammed on the table caused Richie to jump, very similar to what he did moments ago.

“Sorry.” You said in a much lighter voice.

“Hey don’t apologize, babe. We’re fuckin’ goin’ through it.” He laughed as he finished off the bottle of gin. “Clearly.” His hand raised the bottle in reference to his sentence and also to say thanks for the drink.

“Do you have a cigarette?” You were now calm, it was crazy how quick you processed things and just stored them away. It was something you had to do the entire time you grew up while your dad came and went.

“Yea, wanna head downstairs?” His finger pointed over his shoulder to the door.

“Fire escape.” You pointed in the opposite direction.

You made your way out to the black metal escape. There was enough room for both of you to stand comfortably as you smoked your cigarettes, the view was clear to the riverwalk as you stared out.

“Can I ask you something awkward?” You looked up to him as you leaned forward with your one arm hanging over the railing with the other on the cigarette in your mouth.

“I’m drunk so it’s probably the best time as any.” He agreed.

“Why wasn’t Tiff at the funeral?”

It was a substantial question. Even though you didn’t know why, you felt the weight behind it.

“Uh she had to– uh, well she had to, you know.” He started to trip over his words. “We’re getting a divorce.” The sentence just fell out of his mouth like water. It made your stomach drop, you weren’t exactly sure why. Probably because you knew that this was the worst time to be going through a divorce, not that there was exactly a good time for one either. “We uh, just were fightin’ all the time, arguing about stupid shit, I guess, you know, I’m a little immature, always at the restaurant, always with Mikey, well used to be, I’m a little hard to depend on.”

You knew he was just repeating the things that Tiff had said to him. Her reasoning, probably thrown at him like daggers in the middle of the fight. She probably wasn’t wrong, they probably did argue all the time, he was immature, you knew that, he was always right by Mikey’s side which generally meant he was at the restaurant. But all those things were obvious to you. That was who Richie was. And you weren’t going to shit on Tiff for not wanting to deal with it, but it didn’t mean you didn’t question why she got into it to begin with. I guess the answer was love, but you didn’t really know much about that. One thing that stuck out to you was the last part of the sentence. Hard to depend on. It was crazy how everyone had different views of people, Tiff had known Richie as hard to depend on. But you knew him as the opposite over the last few years.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re the most reliable person in my life.”

“I don’t know what that says about you or the company you keep.” He snorted.

You laughed at him, pushing into him with your shoulder as you took in another drag of the cigarette. There was another moment where all that could be heard was the sounds around Chicago. It was late so while the sounds weren’t comparable to a rush hour smoke break, it was Chicago so there was some city noise. Your eyes fell onto Richie’s hand as he gripped the railing. The gold ring was still on his finger, which was curious to you.

“Still got the bling.” Your head nodded to his left hand. “Why are you still wearing it?”

For a second, he frowned, confused by what you were talking about and then his eyes followed your nod.

“Oh, you know.” He shrugged and immediately took a big inhale of cigarette smoke.

“No, I don’t.” You raised your eyebrows and turned to have your back against the railing as you waited for his answer.

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Habit I guess.” He flicked the cigarette into the air and watched it fall 5 stories until it hit the ground causing the last sparks of it to jump. He moved, closer to your window and sat against the concrete wall, folding his knees up to have his arms rest on them as he was now in front of you and extending his legs out would give you no room.

“Habit.” You nodded, taking your last inhale and doing the same thing as him to get rid of it, still leaning with your back on the railing.

“Yea, you know I’ve had it on forever. Plus like I don’t know, the papers aren’t signed yet, I’m not saying things could be different, but they could, you know. They could go back to how they were. I don’t know. It’s just there’s been a lot happening, I haven’t thought to take it off.”

He was rambling. Understandably so. You pushed yourself off the ledge and went to sit next to him, copying his positioning with your own legs.

“Who the fuck am I kidding?” He looked down at his hands. “It’s over.”

The words were finite, the way he said them felt like it wasn’t his first time coming to that realization, but you figured it was probably the first time he said them outloud.

“But are you over it?” It was a genuine question from you, a little curious too, if Richie was letting you in, you were going to take it, it was the first time you felt like you had a real conversation with someone in a while.

“I mean, I don’t think we’re like us anymore, I don’t know if we ever fuckin’ were, like I think we had this idea about who the fuck we were together, right? I mean, I love her, she’s the mother of my kid y’know. But that shit was over a long time ago.”

“What’s the point of holding on then? Seems like it’d be best for everyone to just move on. I’d say let go but I think you both have.”

Richie looked at you, taking in what you said. Everything you said was true, it was a perspective he felt like he knew deep down but there was just something about hearing it outloud and from someone else that made it feel a little more realistic and grounding.

He nodded slowly as he brought his hand up to his mouth, covering it as he digested the information.

“So this is why Carmy kept you around all these years, you’re fucking smart. You should be like a shrink or some shit.”

You let out a laugh at his words, the irony that this was all you wanted from Carmy, a moment to chat, it didn’t have to be about Mikey, it didn’t have to be about New York, or anything, you just missed these deep conversations with him.

“Somethin’ like that.” You let out a deep sigh and looked over at Richie as he began to speak.

“So can I ask you an awkward question?” His head turned to stare back at you.

“I’m drunk so it’s probably the best time as any.” You repeated the answer he gave you which made him smile before gazing back out at the riverwalk through the bars of the railing.

“That guy, that came into the restaurant a couple years ago, he was the one beating on you?”

Richie knew the answer to the question, he felt like he just needed to hear you say it to get the clarity he needed, and maybe a few more details if you were open to talking about it.

You paused for a minute, not sure how or if you wanted to answer, but you thought back to that day. You thought back to how Richie didn’t ask any more questions when you told him not to. He never brought it up again, he probably had a million questions, but yet he just asked this one.

“Yea.” You held your breath for a minute thinking back. “My ex.” You pointed across the street to the little corner store. “I met him there, he was in Chicago for work, from Minneanapolis.” You felt Richie’s eyes jump to stare at you as he started to comprehend everything. “We dated for a few months, I saw him whenever he came into town, which was often. He was charming. We didn’t really do much, I guess I’m an easy date.” You let out a laugh at how unchallenging you made it for the guy. “I didn’t introduce him to anyone, one of many red flags. I knew that no one would like him, especially Carmy, he has that like shithead detector, you know? Anyways, he was wrapping up his last work trip to Chicago at the end of that August and invited me to come back with him. Carmy was leaving, all of my other friends were already back at school or moved out of town, I had nothing going on here, so I did went.” Your head shook as you recollected all of it, especially how naive and stupid it was.

“It took two days for his true colors to show.” You honestly forgot Richie was next you as you thought about the first time he hit you. “I, uh, was unpacking my stuff. Spilled my soda on the dresser, he wasn’t too happy about it.” Your hand moved to your face out of habit, like you could still feel the sting of his hand across your face. “It stopped for a while, which is why I stayed plus you know, abusers abuse hard but apologize harder so I believed him. I honestly don’t remember when it got worse but it did, and I couldn’t leave. He broke my phone, I had like no money left, no friends, a shitty job.” A stay tear fell and landed on your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “On paydays, I’d go to a check cashing place on my break, take $20 from my paycheck and put it in my locker, because the rest of it was going to my ex for rent or whatever the fuck he used it on and anything more than $20 was cause for alarm, I had tried and failed. After a few weeks, I saved up enough for a plane ticket and flew to New York. I left in the middle of the night. It was terrifying. I left half of my shit there, not to mention my fuckin’ dignity.”

“Yea, but, uh.” The tears were now falling more frequently, you weren’t blubbering, your voice was still pretty steady, but the drops weren’t stopping. “Carmy had his own shit going on. I lied to him. I don’t even remember what I said to him about the bruises, but he believed it. He was so fucking out of it and so, I sucked it up. Found a credit card that I could open immediately with my god-awful credit score and booked my flight home.”

“Jesus Christ,” Richie’s voice was soft, something you didn’t hear from him too often. “That’s– that’s some seriously screwed up shit.” His head was shaking as he processed it all. “I wanted to kill that motherfucker. Like I knew, right? You had that mark on your arm, I’m pretty sure I fuckin’ asked you, but you looked so damn scared and small and not like a kid, I just mean like stepped on. And out of all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never looked scared let alone small. I just felt this anger in me, like I wished I pulled that fuckin’ trigger.”

A laugh escaped from your mouth thinking about that day, you didn’t find any of this funny per say, but laughing was just what your body could come up with to respond. It was muffled from the congestion of your tears, your nose was slightly red. Your hands moved up to your eyes and rubbed them before you told Richie your final thought.

“You know, that day, that was my first day home. I was so nervous walking into the restaurant, I didn’t know how everyone was gonna be, if they were mad I left or what. But you looked up and me and smiled and I thought ‘Hell must be freezing over if Richie fuckin’ Jeremovich is the one saving me from my sorrows.’”

He smirked at that, there was some peace served to him knowing that.

“Can I say something else awkward?” His voice was still steady.

You nodded.

“Thanks.”

That was it. That was all Richie said.

You licked your lips and brought them inside your mouth, trying so hard to hold in what you knew would be exploded laughter. After one successful second, you failed. You let out the craziest noise as you laughed out loud. Your head fell onto Richie’s shoulder as you laughed and caught your breath, Richie joined in the laughing, the two of you louder than you should have been at 3 in the morning.

“Shut the fuck up!!!” A random voice called out from below you, which caused the both of you to try and shush yourselves while uncontrollably laughing even more.

As you both calmed from the laughter, there was a brief second where the two of you were looking at each other. It was short, but it was electrifying, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the emotions, but something was gravitating you two towards eachother.

There was no shot you could explain when or how it happened. But when your mind came to it, you realized you were horizontal on top of Richie on your fire escape with your tongue practically down his throat. His lips were soft, surprisingly, which was what this entire situation was, surprising to say the least. You thought your reaction to kissing Richie wasn’t going to be to lean into it more, but when you both took a minute to catch your breath, there was nothing else in your head but the thought of wanting to kiss him again.

“I’m so–” He started to come to it and get flustered but you didn’t let him, you were back to kissing him before he could even finish apologizing. The shock didn’t last long on him, he was melting back into it pretty quickly, his hands moving to your face, the heat of his breath exhilarating you more. Your body grinded on his out of habit, feeling his excitement that you were moving into him. A groan or two or five left your mouth, you lost count and honestly any consciousness in your mind was also out of the window. You were a one track mind, and that was to get Richie into bed.

________

The cold air mixed with the rising sun glares woke you up. The pounding of your head being the first thing you felt and heard thumping in your head. A groan came from your throat as you rolled over to hide from the sun, letting the thin sheet get tangled up more across your body. That’s when you realized how cold you were, the thin sheet wasn’t much but it really wasn’t helping since you had no clothes on underneath. Memories from the night before crashed onto you which didn’t help the headache that was getting progressively worse.

Expecting to bump into the man you shared the bed with last night your hand was met with an empty bed. A deep sigh came out from your mouth as you collapsed deeper into the bed. You weren’t disappointed or hurt, it was just a lot to take in, thinking about what exactly happened, what you talked about, how good the sex was. Which you had to admit was really good. Not to say you thought sex would Richie would be good or bad, it was that you never thought of it before, so the thought in itself was shocking. Then there was the thought about what this meant moving forward. That was a notion you spent little time on, you weren’t going to make anything awkward. It was a one night stand and it was Richie, it wasn’t going to be weird.

There was no point in trying to go back to bed, you rolled over, grabbed what you hoped was a tylenol and not a breath mint that was loose on your nightstand and reached for your sunglasses.

You sat at the edge of your bed for a minute, trying to work up the courage to get your legs to work. “Alright, clothes. Then water. Then food.” You mapped out your next few moves. To get food, you had to go downstairs, you had nothing in your apartment except for stale leftovers.

The elevator dings were aggravating, you wished the sunglasses on your face did more than block your eyes from the bright lights but being hungover you just had to face the consequences.

As the sign flashed first floor over the buttons, the doors whooshed open. As you pushed off the back wall of the elevator you stopped in your steps when you saw Richie standing in front of you with a bag of what you assumed was food from the smell.

“Hey, I went to grab breakfast.” His voice was courtly, not his normal Richie self, more polite.

You said nothing, just ushered him into the elevator with your arms as you fell back against the wall leaning your head back to rest there as well. Both of you stood there in silence, you weren’t trying to make it awkward, in fact that thought didn’t even cross your mind. All you could think about was how hard your head was pounding and how much agony work was going to be later. Richie on the other hand, didn’t exactly thrive in silence, he was fidgety, switching which hand he held the bag of food in, leaning back, standing straight, making noises with his mouth, casually trying to look over at you.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” His voice switched from polite back to his normal abrasive Richie voice.

“Because I have a headache.” Your voice monotone.

“Oh, well I have food.” He held the bag out a little to show you. You would have picked up on what he was insinuating, you have a headache food could fix it, but you just felt like he was repeating himself when all you wanted was silence.

“Yea you fuckin’ said that, Richie.” Your eyes closed now, not that he could tell under your shades.

He got quiet again as the elevator beeped and flashed the number 3 as you passed the third floor, but that didn’t last long.

“I didn’t get coffee because ya know I figured you had stuff here and it’d be better than shit out there.” His voice raised an octave which triggered you.

“You’re right.” Again, answering in a monotone voice.

“Are you like mad at me or something?” Richie frowned and stepped somewhat in front of you.

Normally you would have bugged out on Richie, any other day, any other circumstance, but it clicked. Things weren’t normal, you slept with him, this was weird new territory so you offered him some peace.

“No, sorry, I’m just really hungover, I appreciate this.” You pointed to the bag of food as the elevator opened on your floor, you squeezed past him to your apartment, opening it and welcoming him in and immediately moving to the coffee machine. Not bothering asking Richie what he wanted, you started to concoct two warm drinks, turning back around with the mugs in your hand to see him laying out the spread he bought.

“I don’t know what you like so I tried to cover my bases.” He started to point at the styrofoam take out containers. “Sausage and Eggs, Bacon and Eggs, Bagel with Cream Cheese, Bagel with Butter, and pancakes or waffles.”

You were impressed. Richie just kept surprising you.

“Wow, uh, I’ll take the bacon and the waffles.”

“Alright, cool. Waffles.” He mumbled as he searched for the container before handing it to you, sort of like he was taking a mental note as he was searching.

He took a sip of the coffee, shaking his head in approval, “Yea that’s good fuckin’ shit.”

You hummed a light laugh as you thanked him, opting to shorten his nickname even more and call him Rich.

The silence crept up again, the sounds of eating and the wind from the open window the only thing filling the void. You felt the awkwardness and the tension, which was not what you expected, it was Richie fuckin’ Jerimovich, he never made anything awkward, although he was trying to fill a lot of the silence, typical of him and you were offering short responses if any.

“We’re good, Richie.” You decided to speak up.

His head turned, mouth full of eggs, bagel in his left hand, it was a sight that put a smile on your face. “Huh?”

“I just, I want you to know like we’re good, this doesn’t have to be awkward.”

“Alright, yea, not awkward.” He nodded in agreement and went back to his food.

The two of them awkwardly said goodbye, their short understanding not being enough for them to be on the same page but at least they both knew they were still cool, it was just managing the tension of ‘I saw you naked last night and now know a lot of your deepest darkest secrets so do I hug you goodbye or wave or what.’ But you both managed to get out of it unscathed and with a kiss on the cheek and a ‘call me if you need anything’ which was successful enough in your book.

Work that day had dragged on, your mind and body were not equipped to deal with people all day but yet you were stuck pushing through. By the time your shift ended, you walked outside, taking in the cold Chicago air as you walked home. The heaviness of life started to weigh on you, the thought of how even though your daily routines hadn’t changed everything was different, how you couldn’t stop by The Beef while they were closing up and meet up with Mikey and Richie to hang out and bullshit around. But then something dawned on you, you still had Richie, and what better way to make things not awkward then by breaking the tension between you.

You: 10:37 You wanna go to Cerces?

Richie: 10:37 I got banned

You: 10:38 When has that ever stopped you before? Richie: 10:40 Yea, I’m on my way I’ll be at yours in 10 minutes.

Next Fic: The Smell Of Rain

#The Bear #The Bear fanfic #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #mikey berzatto #sugar berzatto #carmy berzatto #michael berzatto #carmen berzatto

468 notes · View notes