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thebearer · 2 days

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nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.”

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line.

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket.

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock.

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval.

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one.

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name?

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week.

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself.

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows.

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.”

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window.

There you were.

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high.

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-”

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it.

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned.

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.”

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone.

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it.

From: Richie

‘Look at table nine.’

Sugar huffed.

To: Richie

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen?

To: Richie

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’

From: Richie

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end.

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,”

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced.

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-”

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.”

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin.

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge.

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his.

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee.

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection.

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.”

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight.

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out.

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue.

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing.

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face.

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded.

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.”

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head.

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.”

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-”

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.”

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.”

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-”

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered.

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window.

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.”

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger.

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time.

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.”

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?”

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.”

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl.

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called.

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered.

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.”

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?”

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.”

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?”

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

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donatellawritings · 2 months

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cherry - subtle body - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

warning(s): language, age-gap

song: baby boy by childish gambino

4:15AM. Richie was the first to wake up, following the fast-paced events that had taken place the night prior - and he would be lying, if he said that he didn’t love it. The shrill of his alarm was enough to cause you to stir, but not enough to wake you as he carefully reached over you, silencing the alarm before taking a moment to soak it all in, to soak you all in. He gently pulled his arm out from under you, pressing a kiss to the top of your hair, before standing from the bed. Richie didn’t want to leave you, but he had to - he’d promised his daughter, the absolute apple of his eye, that he would take her to school, before he had to leave for work.

Running his calloused hand over his face with a huff, Richie collected his slacks from the floor, sliding them up his legs, without buttoning them. Picking up his dress-shirt that laid beside your vanity, Richie looked over to you, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest as you peacefully slept. It took everything in Richie to not crawl back into your bed and hold you in his arms, yet he remained resilient as he buttoned the cuffs of the shirt, proceeding to button up the shirt.

Smoothing a hand down against his short hair, Richie scanned the environment of your room, should he write you a note? Deciding against it, Richie walked towards the bed, leaning down to kiss the side of your head, before grabbing his phone.

Now making his way to your bathroom, Richie opened the cabinet underneath the sink, searching for a spare toothbrush, toothpaste, anything he could use to freshen his breath. Coming up unsuccessful, Richie pulled at the mirror that was mounted on your wall, the prescribed-pill bottle that sat on one of the shelves catching his eye. Sure, he was prescribed medication for the demons that dwelled in his mind, but knowing that they plagued your mind too caused an ache in his chest. Shaking away the thoughts, Richie’s eyes fell on the travel-sized bottle of mouth wash that sat on the center shelf.

Thank fuckin’ god.

Using over half of the bottle, Richie poured the blue liquid into his mouth, throwing his head back with a gargle, before spitting into the sink, briefly allowing a quick stream of water to wash away the remaining mouthwash that lingered against the porcelain bowl of the sink. Closing the mirror, Richie took a quick glance over of himself.

Craning his neck to the side, Richie exhaled through his nose as he looked at the three scratches that tainted his skin, courtesy of your nails, “fuck,” he groaned, running his hand over the wounds before exiting the bathroom.

Making his way to the living room, Richie snatched his leather jacket off of the arm of your sofa, sliding his arms through in a fluid motion, before he exited your apartment, making sure to shut your front door softly, not wanting to wake you.

Once in the hallway, Richie unlocked his phone, typing a quick text message to you as he awaited the elevator.

taking the kid 2 school. call me when ur awake

dinner on me tonight

Richie loved spending time with his little girl, the mere two hours they’d spend together whenever he’d take her to school, never truly fulfilling him. It always seemed as though he’d have little Eva singing her heart out one minute, then, pulling up alone to the back parking lot of The Bear. It was now 7:32AM as Richie’s phone rang.

The sight of your name flashing across his phone screen caused Richie to clear his throat, before accepting the call and bringing the phone to his ear, “Hi, sweetheart,” he speaks, a hint of excitement now apparent in his usually stoic voice.

You turnover, the sound of your shuffling now heard over the other side of the phone, “Hi,” you rasped, your voice laced with sleep, “I miss you,” you added.

Fuck, Richie leaned his head back against the headrest of his driver’s seat as his eyes closed for a second, he was so fucking into you, it hurt.

“I know, pretty girl, I, uh,” he forced out a breathy chuckle, “I miss you too.”

“You owe me dinner,”you teased playfully, your laughing echoing through the phone, “and a proper sleepover.”

Richie rubbed his fingers over his eyebrows, a goofy grin playing on his lips, “I owe you a new mouthwash too,” he chuckled.

“Oh,” you questioned, “then I’ll have to get an extra toothbrush for when you stay the night,” you commented, more so to yourself than to Richie.

Richie stilled, a silence falling over his car as he took a breath. You made him nervous - I mean, fuck, it usually took months, for some even years, to witness Richie’s softer side, yet here you were, knowing him for not even a fraction of that, making him blush and plan cutesy sleepover dates. Shit, the last time Richie had his own toothbrush for overnight stays was at his ex-wife’s house.

Richie remained caught up in his trailing thoughts, until your voice cut in, “You still there?” You asked, your voice now pitched higher with worry.

“Shit, sorry baby, uh yeah,” Richie blinked, “yeah, we should definitely have an extra toothbrush - I’ll have to get you one at my place,” he breathed out.

Noticing your silence, Richie decided to take hold of the conversation, “Listen, m’gonna come get you around six? I got us a table at this fuckin’ place downtown, it’s uh, real fancy.”

The sound of the faucet running can be heard on your end, followed by soft brushing, “Y’brushing your teeth over there?” Richie asked.

“Yes, I have class at eleven,” you answered, your words muffled from the toothbrush that sat between your teeth.

“Shit, which class is that?” Richie asked.

Water can be heard hitting the sink, “Film, thankfully,” you sighed, “it’s my favorite.”

Richie knew you were a film major, you wanted to write scripts. If you weren’t on the phone with him, or doing assignments, you were usually studying watching a movie. You’d watched movies intently, paying attention to every minor detail, always anxious to see if it would be referenced in the future.

It made Richie proud, knowing that his girl was going for her education, and was excited to use it. You’d be graduating from college in a few months, Richie grew excited at the thought of you donning your degree, looking beautiful as ever in a cap and gown.

“I know, baby,” he muttered, “you’re so fuckin’ smart.”

“Thank you, Richie,” you blushed, “um, I really enjoyed last night, by the way,” you added, the screech of the faucet stopping filling Richie’s ears.

The scratches on Richie’s neck grew warm, a smirk tugging at his lips as he recalled the feeling of your nails digging into his skin, “So did I- I got the scratches on my neck to prove it,” he teased, chuckling as you gasped.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-” you began to panic.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he spoke, “it’ll give the guys something to talk about at work.”

Richie was being a cocky fuck. He loved that he could indirectly show you off with the scratches on his neck, wanting to hold off on introducing you to his family coworkers, until things were steady between you two.

“Alright, well I gotta start heading in, okay?” He sighed.

“Okay, have a good day at work, Richie,” you beamed.

“Thank you, sweetheart - I’ll see you at six.”

“See you at six.”

Richie made his way through the main dining room and kitchen, mentally taking note of any upstanding flaws that needed to be corrected prior to opening. This usually took him anywhere around one to two hours, depending on how meticulous he’d decided he needed to be that day.

“Richie, good morning, papa!” Tina greeted, her signature wide grin on full display as she approached Richie.

“What’s goin’ on, T?” He responded, pulling the woman in for a kiss to her cheek.

Tina cocked her head to the side, “Woah, what the fuck happened to you,” she questioned, reached her hand towards the scratches that peeked out from beneath the collar of Richie’s dress-shirt.

Richie smiled, softly pulling away from Tina, “S’nothing, uh, how was the drive here this morning,” he attempted to deflect, refusing to make eye contact with the woman in front of him.

Tina scoffed, “I’ll tell you all about my drive in, when you tell me about those marks on your neck.”

Richie shoved his hands into his pockets, with a huff. Richie considered Tina to be a confidant of his, the older woman being one of the closes people to him, due to their years of friendship and history.

So, naturally, he caved, “Just a girl I’ve been seeing recently, y’know?”

Tina nodded, her eyebrows raised, “Ah, and what is this “girl” like?”

“She’s beautiful, I mean, T, she’s a fuckin’ knockout,” Richie rambled, “she’s Puerto Rican-”

Tina gasped, nudging Richie’s arm, “A latina? Look at you, Richie.”

“Yeah, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, she’s good, y’know?” Richie praised, shyly bringing his gaze to Tina as she cradled the side of his face.

“I’m happy for you.”

The hours of the day came and went as Richie found himself leaned against the hood of his car as he waited for you to come downstairs. He was thankful to have gotten out of work early enough to make a quick pit stop at his apartment to shower and brush his teeth, not wanting to take you out without being the most pristine and prepared version of himself. He’d even made sure to bring a small bag of clothes and toiletries in the backseat of his car as a ‘just in-case’.

There was a part of Richie that ached to know how you did, to know how you’d manage to seem as though you had it all together, despite being in the same boat as him. Richie wouldn’t be the one to bring up your inner workings, he’d figured that hed let you come to him, that is, if you ever wanted to even tell him about your internal battles.

The hum of his phone vibrating in his pocket jolted Richie out of his thoughts, “shit,” he muttered.

sorry for taking so long … wanna come up?

Richie nodded to himself, a sigh leaving himelf as he opened the door to the backseat of his car, grabbing ahold of the drawstring bag that sat neatly on the seat. Closing the car door with a huff, Richie add his way into your apartment building, his stomach churning with concern - something was off with you.

You’d been beaming about this date, since Richie first brought it up. Shit, it had been the last thing you’d spoken about, before you fell asleep on his chest last night. I mean, yeah, Richie shared the same sentiment, he’d felt like a teenager going on his first date, again, but it brought a warmth to his chest knowing and seeing first-hand how excited you were.

Now in the main lobby of the building, Richie impatiently slapped the elevator button, blankly staring at the elevator door that had yet to open.

Richie got lost in his own mind as he wracked through what changed within you. Was the age-difference too much for you? Were you having cold feet? Were you going to end things? Did you not want to be seen with him? Fuck, it had only been about two minutes since Richie read your text and he was already driving himself insane with assumptions and differing conclusions. So much so, that Richie didn’t even realize that he’d subconsciously already made his way into the elevator and to the fourth floor.

Richie rushed to your door, softly knocking his knuckles against the heavy door, “S’me, sweetheart!” He called out sweetly.

You were quick to open the door, Richie’s heart sinking to his ankles as you answered the door with tear-soaked eyes, “hi Richie,” you squeaked, your voice broken.

“Hey, hey -what’s going on?” He asked, following you inside your apartment.

You were dressed for tonight’s occasion: a skintight black dress that barely reached your mid-thigh, black pantyhose concealing the skin of your legs. Your hair was curled, flowing down your back loosely as you stood barefoot, turning to face Richie.

You let out a shaky breath of frustration as you walked into Richie’s chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Richie knew that he sucked when it came to situations like this. You see, he’d become accustomed to letting his frustrations out with a string of profanities, and a cigarette, and maybe even a fistfight. So, he settled with doing the one thing that he knew he couldn’t manage to fuck up: hold you in his arms and simply listen to what you had to say.

You tried to speak, your words jumbled as you spoke directly into Richie’s chest. Slightly leaning away from you, Richie craned his neck down to get a good look at you, “I can’t hear you when you’re talking straight into me, baby.”

You pulled yourself out of Richie’s arms with a roll of your eyes, you hated letting your guard down, “I just don’t know what I am fucking doing, I mean,” you laughed, “you are a fucking father, y-you were married, and me? I have no idea what the fuck I am doing.”

Richie remained silent, he could tell that this was something that weighed heavy on your conscience. So, he decided to take it all in, only jump in when he felt he had to.

And you continued.

“I’m twenty-three years old, Richie, a-and what if this is fun for you in the beginning, but then you realize that you should be with someone who has it together?” You questioned aloud.

Richie remained silent.

And you continued.

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t even go one day without taking these fucking pills, isn’t that so fucked?” You shake your head with a smile of disbelief.

Richie remained silent - this was killing him.

And so, you continued.

“I just- you should go home, okay? Y-you can go home and forget about me, forget about this, and you can be with someone who can give you what you need-”

Richie could no longer remain silent, so he laughed.

“You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about,” he spat with a shrug of his shoulders.

Richie could feel the frustration quickly boiling into anger, a frustrated anger that burned in his chest. He’d thought he made it clear just how much he fuckin’ liked you, yet here he was, feeling as though he was being backed into a corner - forced to defend himself.

”Let me just tell you somethin’, sweetheart,” he began, “If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be fuckin’ standing here, listening to you say shit that makes no fuckin’ sense.”

The blue-eyed man decided that he wasn’t done, “You’re not the only fuckin’ person going through shit, I just don’t take the fuckin’ easy way out and run away when shit gets scary, but hey, maybe you’ll learn that when you grow up.”

You froze in place, letting out a scoff.

In the deep part of Richie’s psyche, he knew that he shouldn’t have brought up your age against you, but fuck, everything you were saying was so far from the truth. He was hurt that you’d questioned his motives, so he resorted to his cutting words to try and get through to you.

Wordlessly, you walked away from Richie, in the direction of your bedroom.

“Fuck,” Richie cursed himself as he watched you disappear into the hallway.

You left your bedroom door open, grabbing the oversized graphic tee that rested on your vanity, before slipping it over the tight dress that uncomfortably clung to your body, tugging it down your legs by the hem. Kicking the dress to the side, you took hold of the headphones that laid on your bed, placing them on your head, potentially blocking out the noise of Richie leaving your apartment.

But, he never left.

In fact, Richie locked the front door of your apartment, making sure to turn off the lights in your living room, before he made his way towards your bedroom, drawstring bag in hand. Fuck the reservation, fuck the fancy outfits, all Richie could focus on was the fact that he’d hurt his girl.

Richie found you on your bed, seated with your legs crossed, larger headphones on your head as you forced yourself to keep your eyes trained forward.

Standing beside your bed, Richie dropped his bag onto the floor as he gently reached for your headphones, carefully removing them from your head, “Can y’look at me, pretty girl?” He questioned softly, taking a seat at the edge of your bed, his hands folded over his lap.

Your eyes met his, god, he absolutely hated seeing you cry, let alone bring the reason for your tears.

“C’mere,” he beckoned.

You were hesitant, but nevertheless, you had somehow found yourself straddling Richie’s hips, there was no sexual urges behind your decision and Richie loved it. You had every right to be upset with him, yet you sat on him, solely for the sake of needing to be as close to him as possible.

Richie’s hand softly held your face, “Didn’t want to make you cry, baby, I just-” he sighed, trying to find the right words, “I just - you’ve got this shit all wrong.”

You nodded, wanting him to explain - you needed the reassurance.

Richie’s lips softly pecked yours, before he continued, “I don’t give a fuck if you got your shit together or not - I mean, fuck, baby, I don’t even have my shit in order,” he chuckled.

“But what if you get bored of me?” You mumbled, earning an exaggerated eye roll, coupled with an obnoxious scoff from Richie.

“Not gonna happen, I’d have to be the world’s biggest jagoff if that ever happened,” He dismissed politely, pulling one of your hands that laid interlocked with the other, replacing that hand with his own.

“You don’t think I’m too young? You said that I have to grow u-”

“I was being a fuckin’ asshole, alright?” Richie countered, “Yeah, you’re younger, a lot younger, but you are doing good for yourself, yeah? You’re finishing college, I didn’t even make it in to fuckin’ college.”

Richie’s hands softly grab your face as he leans his forehead against yours, “M’not that great at this, sweetheart, but I want to try, for you,” he coaxed.

“I’m just scared, Richie.” you confessed.

“I’m scared too, just let me- let me take care of you,okay? I promise, m’not going to hurt you, just give me a chance, okay?”

You nodded, “okay.”

The two of you were terrified. This was uncharted territory for the both of you - but you both wanted this to work, you both needed it to work. So, you both sat, Richie holding you closely to his chest as you steadied your breathing to match his.

“I owe you a dinner,” you whispered.

Richie exhaled a short laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He was falling for you, fast, and what scared him the most was knowing that he’d go to pretty deep lengths, just to make sure that you always knew that.

and that’s it for part 4 of cherry, so sorry if this is too long, I really just wanted a part that focus on Richie’s inner-workings and his thoughts, I hope you all enjoyed!

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

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springtyme · 10 months

Note

Hi I was wondering if I could get your thoughts or maybe a short NSFW fic on how Richie would be during sex? He seems so sweet and thoughtful from season 2 so I’m thinking he’s a tender “making love” kinda guy but I’m not sure.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐡 ♡

I’d love to share my thoughts! ♡ I fully support the idea that this man is a “making love” kinda guy (but he definitely also knows how to fuck) The Richie playlist

Richie Jerimovich x afab!reader (18+ mdni!)

word count: 1.k

This man loves sex. Not in a ‘likes to get his dick wet’ kind of way (not that there's anything wrong with that). He just really loves the act of having sex with you, the person he loves. He loves the intimacy it brings, the connection that is made through sex, the opportunity to melt together and feel utterly and completely engulfed with you.

He is the type of guy where taking care of the people he loves comes as second nature to him, and that would most definitely include sex too.

He loves to be able to give you pleasure. Whenever he feels insecure that he isn’t enough, or when he feels bad because he just doesn’t seem to be able to find the right words to express just how precious you are to him, and how much he truly loves you, he can at least show you, and make you feel just how devoted he is to you.

And he definitely knows what he’s doing too.

He is a man who’s had enough experience before you got together to know just how to work you to satisfaction. Yet he is always earger to jump at any opportunity he gets to learn.

He loves learning about what really makes you feel good, taking mental notes on how you react to certain movements, and what angles and positions that always seem to get you extra fired up.

He listens and is always ready for some constructive feedback (not that he'll need a lot but it is always nice to know that you can talk free and openly about your sexlife with a partner).

He has his own insecurities, sometimes he’s afraid that he isn’t good enough for you, you are so perfect in his eyes and he is definitely not. He's scared that he will disappoint you somehow in your relationship, but how he is in the bedroom is never an area that he’s that concerned about. That is one area where he feels fully secure in his ability as a partner.

He loves exploring every single part of your body. He doesn’t get to do so as often as he’d like, though (which in his perfect world would be everyday).

Your days are often busy. With your job, and the restaurant and everything, it usually doesn't leave you with a lot of free time together most days. He usually works till late and you usually have to go to work early. But when the two of you have time to spend he really takes advantage of it. He prefers to have you climax at least two or three times before he even thinks about coming himself.

Shower sex is usually the solution for those busy days doing the work week. Either in the morning before you have to go to work or at night after he comes back home and need some stress relief after a hectic day at the restaurant.

But he prefers to have you in bed.

When it comes to positions I think he is a little sappy. Missionary is, and will just always be, his favorite. He just loves being able to see your face as he fucks you. You riding him comes as a close second though. But he will always be down to switch things up whenever you feel like it.

He would probably be really into the chairman too, he just loves how close it allows you to be to each other. He’ll sit at the edge of your bed, with you on his lap as he leaves open-mouthed kisses to your exposed throat as the back of your head rest against his shoulder, and your back is pressed into his chest. He’ll always make sure to sit in a spot that gives him a view of the two of you in the full-length mirror on your wardrobe doors.

Seeing you bounce on his cock like this, while his fingers plays with your clit always has him go a little feral, and he’ll fuck up into you from beneath, meeting each of your bounces and have you scream out with pleasure.

I imagine him having a bit of an oral fixation. Like he just loves having his mouth on you; gently nibbling your earlobe, leaving hickeys on your neck and collarbone, biting your lower lip as he kisses you silly, sucking your tits, you name it.

Loves to kiss you through your orgasms. Like you’ll ride him and as your pussy clamps down on his dick as you come, he’ll gently guide your head down so he can kiss you and feel the vibrations of your moans on his lips as he fuck up into you while you milk his cock as the two of you come together.

Loves going down on you. Like this man eats pussy for the thrill of it. If he can have you sprawled out on your back for him as his face is buried between your legs, or have you sitting on his face with your thighs squeezed around him then he’s a happy man.

Anytime he’s with you he is a happy man though.

And he is such a cuddler afterward. He’ll hug you close to his chest as he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead–everywhere he can reach really.

He loves to just lie naked with you in his arms, your warm soft skin against his as you both come down from your highs. Basking in the afterglow as the world around you pauses for a moment.

And once he’s got his senses about him he’ll pamper you. Need a damp towel, or would you like for him to run you a warm bath? A glass of water? Maybe a snack? Whatever it is he’s got you. Even if you insist that you don’t need it he’ll get it for you.

So, yeah... That was just a few of my thoughts on the topic lol.

I’ve always had a feeling that he’d be such a giving partner in both romantic and sexual situations and I feel season two just has confirmed that further.

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich headcanon #richie the bear #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich x you #the bear #the bear fx #the bear imagine #richie jerimovixh x you #the bear headcanon #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear fic #the bear x reader #springtyme writes

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sageispunk · 3 months

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**18+ ONLY minors do not interact or you'll be blocked!!!

breeding kink! richie and his need to see you stuffed full of his cum nearly every night (and morning)... finding the best positions to fill you up after a few rounds of making you squirt and cream all over his face and his long, thick cock... his second favorite part (right after getting as deep as he could inside you and releasing his seed, images of you all round and swollen with his baby flashing through his mind as his cock twitched in your gushing cunt) was getting to watch his cum spill out of your pulsing hole. he'd watch it drip out down your folds, knowing that some of his seed was making its way even deeper inside you, possibly creating a beautiful new combination of the two of you.

then, richie would use his long, slim fingers to gather your mixed fluids, pushing them back inside you with a couple of slow pumps, teasing you a little as he notched his fingertips up to stimulate your g-spot, lavishing in the soft and needy moans you let out in response. the way you called him daddy over and over again as he guided your pleasure clouded his mind.

later, when the two of you are cuddling in fresh sheets, richie is gently fondling your breasts and teasing your pebbled nipples. you feel his cock growing against your back, causing you to squeeze your thighs together in search of some more friction. he pinches your right nipple, then your left, both times drawing a soft hiss out of you, your back arching and giving him more access to your body.

"fuck, i can't wait till these are all full and juicy for me, baby...you gonna let me taste your milk? hmm? i bet it'll be so fucking sweet, just like you..."

#cw breeding #cw talk of breastmilk #cw pregnancy mention #cw daddy kink #richie jerimovich #smut #richie jerimovich fanfiction #richie jerimovich headcanon #richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich smut #richie the bear #richie jerimovich x reader #the bear hulu #my writing #sageispunk

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ihavemanyhusbands · 9 months

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what do you think jealous!richie would be like?? I’m imagining him and reader being coworkers at the bear and a new guy comes to stage and starts crushing on reader…Richie definitely notices immediately, all the staring, the “can I help you with anything chef,” and all that extra attention towards reader gets Richie’s blood boiling but he doesn’t want to make a scene but reader kinda brings it up to Richie one day randomly while they’re both in the alley taking a break and he’s like I’ll handle it………

Ughhhh i loveeeeeee the idea of jealous!Richie so much

---

"This fucking kid," Richie grunted, arms crossed over his chest. "Always sniffing around ‘er."

"Relax, he's harmless," Fak said dismissively. "Just a little crush. We've all been there."

Richie glared at him, pissed off. "The fuck do you mean we've all been there?”

“Well, yeah. Haven’t you ever crushed on someone out of your league?”

Richie looked back at you for a long moment, thinking back to the time you were first hired.

“Yeah, I guess… That doesn’t mean I’m gonna fucking like this, though.”

Fak rolled his eyes, leaving Richie to stew in his jealousy as he watched the new hire make you laugh with a joke he couldn’t hear.

He offered to take over for you while you took a break, which you gladly accepted. Richie trailed you outside, taking the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear and lighting it.

“Hey babe,” you smiled, sitting on an old crate.“You doing okay?”

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but you still noticed the tension on his shoulders.

“That new kid bothering you?” He asked, glancing at the back door.

“Oh, not really. I guess he’s just really eager to learn?” You ventured, unaware of being the subject of a crush. “His knife skills are, um… Well, he’s getting there.”

Richie scoffed.

“Can’t he ask Carmen or something? I mean, no offense, babe. I know you’re very skilled but… chain of command or whatever.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Richie, what’s goin’ on?”

At that moment, the new hire poked his head out of the back door, his face lighting up as he saw you.

“Hey, Chef, just wanted to let you know I’m done. All good if I tidy your station a bit?” He said.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll take care of it.”

“No, it’s totally fine. It’ll take me like two seconds.”

You smiled gratefully, relenting. “Alright! I’ll be back in a sec. Thanks a bunch!”

His eyes flicked over to Richie, who was glaring daggers at him. He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more.

“You heard ‘er. We’ll be in in a minute,” Richie snapped, flicking ash from his cigarette.

“Y-yes, Chef. Sorry,” he stammered, quickly slipping back inside.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, looking back at you. “Gonna drool all over this fuckin’ alley.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “What, really? You think he likes me?”

“Of course he fuckin’ likes you. He follows you around like a lost puppy!” He said exasperatedly. “You don’t see the way he looks at you?”

“Oh my god, Richie. You’re jealous?” You asked, half-teasing. “Of him? Really?”

He grumbled something about him being entirely too friendly, and that he wouldn’t want him trying anything funny.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got up and went towards him, wrapping your arms around his middle. He immediately tossed his cigarette and brought his hand to the small of your back, pressing you closer even if he was still annoyed about the new hire.

“Trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” you assured him. “I can handle it if you want, though.”

“Yeah? You’re not gonna let me mark my territory?” He teased, eyes dropping to your lips for a moment.

“I’m not so sure I can stop you,” you chuckled. “Or that I want to.”

You went on your tip toes and kissed him, nipping at his lower lip in a silent promise of more to come later that night. As you pulled away, he landed a playful smack against your ass.

“I’ll handle the kid, but I can’t promise I’ll take it easy on him.”

You shook your head in amusement. “Fair enough.”

——

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x chef!reader #richie jerimovich blurb #richie jerimovich fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader

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mrscarmenbearzatto · 15 days

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Was just getting tattooed and had this genius idea 🤭😵‍💫

Richie x younger reader where they’re in a relationship. she’s working at the bear one day and she bends over to grab something when her shirt rides up revealing a tattoo of Richie’s name on her lower back, right above the waistband of her pants. Of course he is like instantly into it lol. He would just love the fact that she wants to flaunt that she’s his and no one else’s. And she’d act all embarrassed and shy when he notices it but is secretly all smug because she knows exactly what he’s thinking 😂

-🐻

OKAY I SEE YOU AND I LOVE THIS IDEA BUT i also see you and i raise you his initials on your neck where he likes to kiss you the most 🫣

but yes the lower back one absolutely. you’re restocking the lower shelves and richie watches you (cause of course he does, he gets to stare at your ass) and your shirt rides up just enough when you lean into the bottom cabinet, that’s when he sees it

‘richie.’ and boy does his brain just shortcircuit!!

like he doesn’t mention it at first, instead just stares. until the next time he sees it and he’s instantly like “ooh, new tattoo?” and you’re like “shush it.”

ugh i love this idea sm

#maeberzatto #mae’s inbox!#richie jerimovich thoughts #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich fanfiction #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader

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angelcakestarlet · 3 months

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salvatore

richie jerimovich x reader - richie makes carmy regret hiring the cute young waitress

wrote dis quick, messy, nd did not look over it but enjoy! :>

"so um look, natalie is going to be training you this week alright" carmy informs you as he sifts through a pile of papers scattering his desk. "you ever serve before?", "for a few months yeah, it's been getting me through college so" you twiddle your thumbs nervously. the restaurant was certainly... intimidating? going to school in chicago you had stopped by a couple times for lunch or drunk off your ass after the club. even while slurring your words you could remember how fucking good that sandwich was. even if most of it was puked up in the bushes out front.

"yo, cousin!" an abrasive voice comes stumbling through carmy's office door without warning, "sugar is out here telling me some bullshit about you hiring servers? look we don't need that shit. a sandwich comes out i fucking hand it to them, boom. why are you gonna pay some dipshit to do it for me?". you turn around to face the loud voice, being met with a tall, tan, buzzcut typical line cook with a deep accent. "jesus fucking christ, one of these 'dipshits' is standing in front of you richie." carmy yells back, obviously pained to have you witness that. "ah shit-" richie steps back to get a full length view of you, taking you in. his gaze felt like an intrusion. "i'm sorry, doll, richie jerimovich." he envelopes your hand in his calloused and rough one, introducing himself. "you know what i'm sorry, cousin, anyone with a set of eyes would hire her too" he snickers, with his hand still atop yours he takes his eyes away from you to acknowledge carmen. "cousin, get the fuck out, you fucking creep!" signaling for the door. "oh my god" richie sighs dramatically, "i'm stating the fucking obvious alright, you need marcus to come in here to tell you the same thing? yo, marcus!" carmen rushes to shove richie out the door, "i'm sorry, i couldn't help myself! look, you're beautiful, sweetheart!" he lets out one last compliment. you giggle to yourself and the man making a spectacle of himself.

carmen shuts the office door and sighs, rubbing his forehead with his tired hand. "i'm sorry, he's... he's a fucking jagoff." you appreciate the apology, but having worked in a restaurant has you accustomed to the snickers and comments from line cooks and customers alike. most of the girls usually brush it off, leaving them disgusted and a distaste for the job for the next few hours. but, your guilty pleasure has become using it to your benefit. free food from cooks, more money from tips, etc. you're sure you could work richie to your benefit just the same. "don't worry about it, he seems... nice" your ease settles carmy and he snickers, "you could say that i guess".

you follow natalie around the restaurant for the next few hours as she takes you through the front of the house and back, introducing you to everyone and all the standards. when five o clock hits, she lets you go, handing you an apron, a t-shirt. and a name tag. thanking her and setting out to find the back alley for a quick ciggy. you find richie lighting a cigarette in the dimly lit alley, "can i bum a cigarette?" you sit down beside him, smelling the smoke clinging to his shirt. "its your first day and you're asking me for shit?" he looks over at you and you notice his evident wrinkles, veins in his neck, and tired eyes. "pretty please?" you look up at him, turning your whole body to face him with a sweet smile on your face. he rolls his eyes playfully, "you know what you're doing huh?" he says as he pulls one more cigarette from its box. "open." you scrunch your eyebrows, confused at his request. his eyes shift to your lips, taking two fingers and tapping your cheek signaling for you to open your mouth. "come on," you separate your lips and he places a cigarette between them, lighting it swiftly. you feel your cheeks get warm, from the cigarette or from his words you don't know (yes you do). "thank you" you say quietly, still stunned a bit. "you know you're gonna ruin that sweet face smoking" he coughs through the lit cigarette. "oh are you telling me what to do now, richie?" you lean back, eyes entranced by the way his hands make the cigarette almost look like a lollipop stick. "a girl like you is probably looking for someone to tell her what to do, sweetheart". as you're trying to figure out whether that just pissed you off or turned you on, carmy bursts through the back door. "cousin, what the fuck are you doing?! we need you in the kitchen, now please! and leave the new girl alone, jesus" carmy yells as richie stomps on what's left of his cigarette and puts his hands up in defense. "i'm coming, fuck off. it was a pleasure, babe" he shakes your hand and makes his way inside. you peer at the closed door, listening to the muffled argument carmy and richie have in front of it. great first day.

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

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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youtube

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drabbles-mc · 4 months

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No Good Time For This

Sydney Adamu x Richie Jerimovich

For the loveliest @hausofmamadas for the Fic in a Box Exchange

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking, all the chaos and ridiculousness you expect with The Bear

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: the way i want to write 500000000 fics for SydRichie. But this is a start. Thank you Kay for giving me the chance to do this. Big loves to you 💕

The Bear Taglist: @withmyteeth @darqchilddaydreamz @garbinge @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

She considered it a small miracle, maybe even a blessing, that when she came back inside they were still sawing their way through the door of the walk-in. If it had been a normal Friends and Family night, she would’ve stuck around and waited for them to free Carmy from his self-imposed confines so that they could talk, rehash the things that had gone well, things that needed to go better next time. But it hadn’t been a normal one. Or maybe it had—she hadn’t had the pleasure of launching her own restaurant like this before. Everything about Sheridan Road had been different. So for all she knew the absolute bedlam they’d been dealing with was par for the course.

But she was still pretty sure that it wasn’t.

Either way, she knew that she wasn’t in the right headspace to stick around and try to talk it out with Carmy. There was no getting to the bottom of whatever everything was, not tonight. So she slipped through, grabbing her things as she went, not even bothering to hang up her brand new chef’s jacket in her locker. She’d just make a point to remember it in the morning when she was getting ready to leave. The immediate relief of one less thing standing between her and the door was worth the extra step tomorrow.

She saw the way that Ebra was looking on over the shoulder of the man who had shown up to free Carmy. That was enough to reassure her that she was free to leave. Even if she wasn’t, there was nothing that Carmy could scream at her for in that moment that he couldn’t just as easily scream at her for tomorrow. It could wait. He could wait. All the waiting that he’d made her do in the months leading up to this, she couldn’t deny that it felt a little right to leave him there and make him wait until tomorrow to see her or talk to her. She wouldn’t have gone out of her way to dodge him, but the universe was lining her up for the perfect shot at the moment, so she was going to take it.

When she walked out the front door, she wasn’t expecting to see Richie standing there smoking a cigarette, looking just about as lost as she felt. He turned around at the sound of the door shutting behind him. His eyes locked onto Sydney and he wanted to muster up some sort of reaction to it being her, but he just couldn’t quite manage it. There was the tiniest lift of his eyebrows, an almost imperceptible upward tilt of his head, but that was it. Sydney’s reaction was about the same.

“Thought you went home,” she said as she stepped so that she was beside him.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

It was different, weird even, to hear Richie’s tone sounding so neutral. He always had some kind of an inflection in his voice, even if it was an annoying one. He was always yelling, or laughing, or arguing to prove a point that no one else in the world cared enough to try and make. Even his most pointless stories were always told with a sense of urgency. So to hear him sound like that, so flat and almost empty, after one of the biggest nights for them in the last few months, didn’t sit quite right.

There was a comment on the tip of Syd’s tongue, something to the effect of telling him that he should go home. Then it hit her that she didn’t really know if she wanted to go home either. She didn’t want to be inside, didn’t want to look Carmy in the eyes, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to pack it in and head back to her apartment. She stopped herself from telling Richie to do something that she had no real interest in doing herself.

“That was…insane,” she said to him instead.

That got a hint of a laugh, more of a scoff than anything, out of him. But it was something. A feeling. “Yeah, yeah it fuckin’ was.”

“You did—”

“You know—”

They both started and stopped at the same time. They both chuckled awkwardly, shaking their heads. It always felt like they were either perfectly in-sync or constantly stepping on each other’s toes. At least this time the toe-stepping wasn’t accompanied by yelling.

Richie gestured for her to continue, the cigarette still in his hand tossing smoke everywhere in the process. “Go ahead.”

“You did…really great tonight, Richie,” she said with a nod.

He scoffed but cut himself short in the process. Take the win. He had to get better at letting himself take the win. After all, it wasn’t often that Syd was the one giving him any. “You too,” he let a pause linger for longer than necessary, a small smirk starting to creep its way across his face as he added on, “Captain.”

“Fuck off.” She said it with a laugh, no real heat behind the words the way that there had been in the past.

They both laughed, awkward tension starting to slowly evaporate, but the exhaustion still hung heavy in the air. Thick condensation that neither of them could shake off. It wasn’t until they both stopped laughing that Syd cleared her throat and prompted Richie to say whatever it was that he was going to say to her before.

He shook his head. He almost didn’t want to say it now. The moment was good. For all the bad moments over the course of the night, most of his moments with Syd had been good ones. He didn’t want to ruin that. They were laughing, and tired, and for a moment not stressed the fuck out about it all. He didn’t want to dredge it all up again. Looking over at Syd and her big, curious eyes, he knew that there was no saying, “Nevermind,” now.

He tapped the ash of his cigarette onto the sidewalk, a last-ditch effort of procrastination. “What I was gonna say, before you interrupted me,” he joked for a moment before letting his tone get serious again, “was that, fuck, I just—” He stopped and shook his head, already wanting to take it all back. He was long past the point of no return now. “You know you don’t have to just, fuckin’, put up with him being like that, right?”

Her brows drew together. “What?”

He nodded back towards the restaurant. “Carmy. You don’t have to put up with his whole, you know,” he gestured vaguely with his hand, less smoke in his wake this time, “toddler, bitch-boy routine.”

Syd couldn’t help but to laugh as she shook her head. “Richie, I mean, I get it, but I kinda d—”

“You don’t,” he cut her off, shaking his head. “Get back in his fuckin’ face when he gets at you like that.”

“Like you?” The words were meant to land as an insult, but she should’ve known better than to think that Richie was going to let them be one.

“Yeah! Like me!” He was hovering just beneath a yell now, but not really at her, still at Carmy. Syd just happened to be the person who was standing in front of him at the time. “Don’t let him think that that shit’s okay, you know?”

She shook her head. “He knows it’s not.”

“Then he should fuckin’ act accordingly!”

She knew that Richie wasn’t wrong. But she also knew enough, about Carmy and about the kitchen and about life, to know that it was lofty to think that her snapping back at Carmy all the time would be the magical cure for it all.

“I know,” she tried to be purposeful with her words, handling Richie with more care in that moment than she had in any other moment since she’d met him. “But can you at least agree that maybe, maybe it wasn’t the right time? You know? When we were all in the middle of the shit?”

The four seconds it took Richie to concede to what she was saying felt like they were actually much longer than that. He did give in, though. Shoulders dropping as he tucked his chin in a nod. “Doesn’t stop him though,” he muttered. “Fuckin’ baby.”

Syd didn’t even feel the smile creeping back onto her face, had no idea it’d made a reappearance. “Doesn’t stop you either, to be fair.”

“Pfft,” Richie scoffed as he flicked away the butt of his cigarette, “I don’t know what you’re talking about—I am the pinnacle of professionalism.”

“Richie.”

He rolled his eyes but there was a smirk on his face as he did. “Yeah, yeah. Not…not the right time.”

There was a pause, one that lasted long enough for either of them, or both of them, to go their separate ways. It’d been the longest night in the history of everything and there was no real reason for either of them to keep sticking around. Syd was vaguely aware of the fact that she probably still smelled like the back alleyway and her own vomit, and Richie was probably still forcing the last of the adrenaline out of his system. Even knowing that, though, neither of them moved. If anything, Syd was more tempted to just plop down on the curb than turn to start heading towards the station that would get her home. If she went home she would see her father. Her father who was currently so excited for her and proud of her, and actually showing it in a way that she could understand. She didn’t want to go home with the weight that was currently lingering on her shoulders and ruin that. It wouldn’t just be ruining it for her, it would be ruining it for him, too. If she could manage to wait a little while longer, she would. If Richie was going to give her a way to stick around, she was going to take it.

He wouldn’t be so bold as to say it, but Richie was glad that she didn’t seem to be in much of a rush to leave either. For as much as part of Richie wanted to be laying in bed staring up at his ceiling, he didn’t want to go back to the emptiness of his apartment yet. Carmy’s words were still bouncing around his head. They weren’t going to sink their teeth into him. He wasn’t going to let them do that. It wasn’t anything worse than what either of them had ever said to each other before. He was almost certain that they would say the same types of things to each other again at some point. All the personal growth in the world could never completely snub out those old habits. They would always come out of hibernation eventually. His fight with Carmy would hit him in waves over the next few days, but what was really pulling him under in the moment was something that he hadn’t seen coming. He knew that it was probably much more than just the fact that Tiff wasn’t at Friends and Family that was getting to him, that the issues and the need for closure there went much deeper than that. It was so much easier to attribute it to just one night, though, so that’s exactly what he was going to do for the time being. And if standing on the curbside with Sydney kept him from going home and staring at his ceiling and spinning out about things that were out of his control, then he’d keep doing it.

“Speaking of bad timing,” Syd started with a shake of her head, helping both of them procrastinate in the best way that they knew how.

“Oh shit,” Richie chuckled, “this is gonna be good.”

For a moment Richie was straddling between the possibilities of thinking that Syd was about to be complicit in her own bad timing, and thinking that her story was about someone else’s bad timing. They were both equally likely, given how things tended to go for all of them.

Syd didn’t know if she really even wanted to tell Richie what had happened. Or maybe want wasn’t the right word. She knew that she wanted to tell him, but she didn’t know why. She was, for the moment at least, probably better off not knowing the why. She also didn’t know how much telling him might end up backfiring on her. Want wasn’t the right word—should was.

Luckily for Richie, if there was one thing Syd had it was the ability to go for something even if it might blow up directly in her face after the fact.

“I think Marcus asked me out earlier.”

Richie’s eyes went wide. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious.”

“You think?” he asked, mostly mocking but also genuinely wondering how she could be uncertain about something like that.

“There was a lot going on!” She tried to come to her own defense. “There was a lot going on and I wasn’t exactly expecting it and he also didn’t really—”

“What’d you say?” He cut her ramble short, wanting to get right to the heart of it all.

“What?”

“He asked you out. So, what did you say?”

“You think I’d be standing here talking to you about it if I said yes?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Poor Marcus. That’s,” he glanced over at Syd, a shit-eating grin on his face, “that’s gonna be a tough one to come back from.”

She rolled her eyes, immediately regretting her decision to tell him. She knew it was coming, in a way, but she wasn’t going to let that take away her right to be annoyed. “Alright—”

“Sydney Heartbreaker Adamu,” he joked.

She wanted to be mad but she ended up laughing instead. “Shut up. Making me sound like some boxer.”

“Read all that Coach K shit and didn’t even end up in the right sport.”

She clasped her hands in front of her face for a moment, caught between praying and laughing a little harder at it all. “I think we’re all going to be busy enough so that it’s not going to be, like, a real—”

Sydney stopped herself mid-sentence when the restaurant door opened behind them. They each turned and looked to see Carmy walking through. However tired the two of them looked by that point, Carmy was about ten times worse and had twenty times more reason to be. There was a pause as they all stood and looked at each other—Syd and Richie looking at Carmy, Carmy going back and forth between the two of them. In the back of his mind he knew that he must’ve been interrupting something. He also knew that there should be something that he was saying but nothing was coming out. All the thoughts racing around his head and he couldn’t manage to externalize a single fucking one of them. Suddenly he found himself sitting there, spinning out and feeling embarrassed in front of two people he had worked so hard to fall into sync with.

Syd was willing to bite the bullet on behalf of everyone one more time. “We can talk tomorrow, Chef,” she said with a tight nod as she continued to look at Carmy.

He looked a little taken aback by the statement when he should have probably been nothing besides grateful. The last thing that he needed as to be getting into it with both of them in the middle of the goddamn sidewalk, especially not when they would both be teaming up against him. He knew that. But he also hated the feeling of being dismissed like he was a child who was getting suspended from school for the rest of the day. If he said that he was sure it would’ve been met by a comment from one or both of them that would have been to the effect of, “If you weren’t acting like such a child we wouldn’t have to fucking treat you like one.” And he knew that he’d deserve that too.

Carmy forced himself to nod, speaking somewhat to both of them even though he was still only looking at Sydney. It felt a little easier to do that, although he might feel differently after whatever conversation they would end up having tomorrow. For now, though, she was still safe.

“Tomorrow. Right. Yeah.” He nodded one more time. “Tomorrow.”

Carmy tried to get his feet to move but they wouldn’t. Richie could see it in Sydney’s eyes that she was about to take off. Home suddenly feeling like less of an uncomfortable notion when the other option was standing there with the two of them. He didn’t want to be left alone with Carmy, not so soon after everything else, so he beat her to the punch and rolled out before either of them could counter it.

“Night, Chefs,” he said in one sweep to both of them before turning and walking towards the lot where he’d parked his car.

Syd was the only one who said anything in return, Carmy only able to give him a nod in that moment. When Richie was far enough away to make the two of them look at each other again, Carmy wondered if Syd would change her mind and want to have a conversation with him about any of it, about anything really.

She ignored the hopeful look that was starting to creep into his eyes. “See you tomorrow.”

He got half a nod out before he gave up on it, already seeing the way Syd was stepping back to go on her own way as well. “Y-yeah. See you…see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow came much faster than anyone at The Bear had really been bargaining for. It felt like it was forever away with how long the day before had seemed. Syd thought that she was ridiculously early in getting there but the first thing she noticed was that the lights were already on. It was a toss-up on who had gotten there before her, a fifty-fifty shot between the two Berzatto’s. It wasn’t a sure enough thing for her to want to walk in just yet. She knew that she and Carmy needed to talk, but that didn’t mean that she wanted to. Especially not first thing in the goddamn morning. Maybe it was Natalie. Maybe it was Natalie and they would lament together in the office and it would all be okay. But something in Syd’s gut told her it was Carmy.

She was so busy staring at the door that she hadn’t heard the footsteps getting closer. It wasn’t until Richie spoke that she realized she was no longer alone out on the sidewalk.

“Keep meeting like this,” he mumbled past the cigarette between his lips.

Her head whipped in his direction, and it wasn’t until she saw the amused look on his face that she processed what he said. Once she really heard it, though, it got her to laugh. “Funny how that works.”

He nodded towards the restaurant before lighting his cigarette. “Ready to do it all over again?”

“No,” she answered immediately. “That’s why I’m standing out here on the,” she shook her head, “on the fucking sidewalk.”

He stepped in a little closer so that he was standing right beside her, as close to shoulder-to-shoulder as they could manage given their height difference. “How bad could it be, right?” he asked with a shrug, sleeve sliding against the material of her winter jacket.

The laugh that she let out was loud, almost involuntarily so. One of the only people who really knew just how bad it could get besides her was Richie, and that’s what nearly had her in stitches. “Fuck off.”

He flicked his cigarette away, not anywhere near done with it. More of a habit than a need, now. He placed his hand on her shoulder closest to him. “C’mon, Chef. Let’s get this over with.”

It took Richie less than ten minutes to come to regret those words. He and Syd had gone inside, Syd had put all of her things away in her locker, and that was when both of them heard shuffling around coming from inside the office. Carmy and Richie had said plenty to each other the night before—it was Sydney and Carmy who needed to actually have that first initial conversation. All Syd could make herself do was look at Richie as he looked at her, and finally she pushed the door to her locker shut. Neither of them said anything to the other. Richie just gave her a slight nod of reassurance before she went on her way.

The last thing he heard before Syd shut the door to the office was her saying to Carmy, “Hey, so, I think we really need to talk about last night.” The first thing he heard after that was Syd shouting, “Okay, well, it is a fucking problem!” Richie had no idea what was said between them between those two sentences, but he had no doubt that Syd was right, that whatever was being brought up and discussed was, in fact, a problem. Part of him wanted to linger, knowing that the two of them would undoubtedly get loud enough and stay loud enough for him to hear pretty much everything that was said, but he didn’t. He’d get the liner notes from one of them, or both of them, before the day was out. He was willing to settle for that. He went back out to the front of the house and made himself busy there instead. Purpose.

By the time that everyone else started to trickle in, the yelling had stopped. The tension wasn’t gone but at least they were no longer about to throttle each other. The office was Natalie’s head of operations once more the way that it should be.

“Where the fuck is Marcus?” Carmy asked as he was taking stock of everyone that was in the kitchen.

Syd shrugged, eyes glued to the counter in front of her. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything from him.”

“Did you call him?”

She didn’t turn her head to look at him, but her eyes flicked over to Carmy. “Did you?”

He raised his eyebrows, and Sydney could see it on his face that he was fighting the urge to say something that would kick everything off again. If it had just been the two of them he wouldn’t have held his tongue. As it was, he just shook his head and took off towards the back door so he could make the phone call.

Richie appeared right by Sydney’s side, seemingly out of nowhere the way it always seemed to be now. He leaned in close and kept his voice quiet, which seemed to be another new skill he honed in recent weeks, so that only Syd could hear him, and hear the humor in his voice. “Think he’s blowing us all off because you—”

“I do not think he’s blowing us off because of that,” Syd cut him off, shaking her head and trying not to let it show that she found it almost as funny as it was annoying coming from Richie.

The smug grin on his face grew a little wider. “Told you it was gonna be a hard one to come back fr—”

“Richie, do you remember how unpleasant it was last time I stabbed you?” She paused long enough to look at him, not long enough to let him answer the question before continuing on to say, “Our knives are so much nicer and sharper now, you know?”

He chuckled, holding his hands up. “No need to get stabby—just paying you a compliment.”

It wasn’t until that moment that Syd realized just how close Richie was actually standing to her. She didn’t want to think about it. There were so many other things that she needed to be thinking about. Things that mattered in that moment, like the restaurant, like Carmy being one mishap away from falling completely fucking apart again, like Marcus being MIA. She didn’t need to be thinking about Richie standing close to her and the way warmth rolled up and down her spine like someone was dragging their fingertips there.

Richie was either too busy being amused with himself to notice the shift, or just oblivious because nothing prior to that moment would’ve given him any inkling that he would elicit that from her just by invading her personal space the way that he always did with her and everyone else. Or maybe, Syd thought for a moment, he noticed and was just being kind enough not to say anything at work in front of everyone. That was a short-lived moment.

Regardless of the why, Richie switched tracks. “Speaking of people being butthurt—how’d it go with Carmine this morning?”

Syd rolled her eyes, split-second infatuation completely gone. “It went great, yeah. Super…super productive. Did you not hear it?” If her sarcastic tone was a tangible object it would’ve been a lead brick dropping directly onto Richie’s toe.

He shook his head, trying not to smile and failing miserably. “Only a little bit of it.”

“How did that little bit sound?”

He gave a fake impressed frown and nod. “Productive, I’d say.”

She knew he would be able to tell that she didn’t really mean it when she told him, “Fuck off,” but it still felt good to say it.

“Told you, sweetheart,” he rested his hands on her shoulders for a brief moment, “Peak of Professionalism.”

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes, smiling as he walked away to start taking care of more pressing matters, “add it to your resumé.”

The next dinner shift was about as much of a scramble as the previous one had been. Different, but similar. Marcus being MIA made things difficult, but there was something to be said for Carmy not being locked in the freezer this time around. Chaotic, but manageable—that was something they were all used to.

“All good, Chef?” Richie asked when he walked back into the kitchen to grab some of the plates that were up.

Syd was nodding, eyes still locked on the sea of slips in front of her. “Yes, Chef.”

Richie had a plate in each hand but he still paused beside her. “Hey,” he paused and waited for her to finally look over at him, “you’re doing good.”

Syd expected to want to come back with something snarky, but instead the smile on her face was genuine. “Thanks—”

“Doing as good as I did last time? Well,” Richie said with a shrug, trying not to laugh, “we’ll see.”

She immediately dropped her eyes back to the real task at hand, partially to focus but mostly so he wouldn’t be able to see her trying not to laugh. “Need to see those plates walking, Chef.”

He laughed, already stepping away as he said, “Yes, Chef.”

Sydney was sure that there was a universe out there somewhere, where she got along easily with both Richie and Carmy. As it stood, however, she seemed to be stuck in a world where she could only ever manage to be on good terms with one of them. For the longest time it was her and Carmy—a united front in a way against the rest of the restaurant. Part of her thought that shifting to The Bear was only going to strengthen and solidify that. They were supposed to be partners, after all. Much to her surprise it seemed to be doing the exact opposite. It was more complicated than just the two of them ‘not getting along’. The problems ran deeper than that, had a reach farther outside the kitchen than that. Regardless of the reasoning behind it all, it left the two of them feeling about as far apart as they’d ever been since she’d shown up to stage when they were still The Beef. She couldn’t simply storm out and walk away like she had before, not with how deeply she was entrenched in it now. She had to adapt, had to figure it out even if Carmy seemed to be incapable of doing the same.

Apparently an integral part of the adaptation process was her and Richie mending things between them. There was never really a conversation about them filling in the cracks of the foundation between them. They never sat down across the table from each other and spelled out everything that they were sorry for—that wasn’t how they were wired with each other. They understood, though, one good turn deserving another. They both knew that there was more to be said about them being on the same wavelength in the kitchen, that that change alone said more than a plain apology ever would. To being combatants on opposites sides of the fight to being each other’s touchstone in the middle of the chaos was a one-eighty that neither of them ever would have been able to call. They never really said anything about that either, but they made sure the other knew that they were grateful for it.

“You heading out soon, Chef?” Richie asked after a long minute of watching Syd fuss over produce placement and organization on the cart.

Her eyes flicked over to the clock on the wall before they finally landed on Richie. She hadn’t even noticed the time going by. “Yeah. Soon.”

He didn’t mean to smile but he couldn’t stop himself either as he walked closer. “What’re you doing?”

“I feel like this could be better.”

“Better?” He laughed. “It’s fuckin’ vegetables, Syd. How—”

“Not everyone in this kitchen is six feet tall, Richie.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m six-one,” he paused for emphasis, “But I see your point.” He looked at her as she went to look away. “You really think you’re gonna crack the code tonight?”

“I might! I could. Probably.”

He was shaking his head but he knew that she was probably right. Usually if she thought on something hard enough she’d get to the bottom of it one way or another. “Alright,” he conceded as he took a small step back. He leaned against the counter behind him, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited.

It took longer than it should have for her to notice that he was still standing there. She tried to ignore the way her heartbeat quickened just slightly. “You don’t have to stay, you know.”

“What if there’s a vegetable-placement-related emergency tomorrow and you’re not here?”

“Where else would I be?”

“Stuck in the freezer,” Richie said with a laugh despite the fact that the door to the walk-in was in perfect working order now. He gave them each a moment to laugh at that, knowing that joking about it was the only way to cope with it at this point. “Anyway, what if there’s an emergency and I’m the only other one who would’ve had the answer if I had just stuck around?”

“Your head is a very dramatic place to be,” she said, smiling and knowing enough to not argue with him further or try to insist on sending him home.

She didn’t stick around for as long as she would have if she had been alone. Throughout the process of opening The Bear she had spent plenty of late nights at the restaurant on her own and she didn’t think twice about it. Things had to get done and she was fine being the one to stay late and do them. It felt different knowing that Richie was there and waiting on her, though, even if he wasn’t saying anything or trying to rush her.

“I don’t think I’m getting this tonight,” she finally conceded.

Richie chuckled, stepping forward again. She didn’t shy away from him encroaching on her space. He looked over her shoulder, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Maybe there’s nothing to get.”

She let out a short sigh. “Yeah.” She pressed the heel of her palm to the edge of her forehead for a moment. “Maybe.”

Sydney wasn’t looking at him but that didn’t stop Richie from looking at her. His eyes raked over her profile, unable to make himself look at anything else. He took in a slow, deep breath, knowing that there were words on the tip of his tongue that he just couldn’t let himself say. Part of him wanted to, just so it was out there in the open and he wouldn’t have it hanging over his head anymore. That same part of him also couldn’t help but to sometimes think that he wasn’t the only one who felt the way that he did. It took two, right? To make things work the way that they had been?

But he didn’t want to be the next person that she talked about to someone after hours, another story of some poor sucker who couldn’t read the room and had the worst timing in the world. He didn’t want that. It was a little selfish, sure, but the outcome was still the same—their dynamic would keep.

Syd turned around, thinking that she was just going to go and grab her things from her locker. She stopped on a dime, though, when she saw how close Richie had been standing to her. She looked up at him, eyes wide as an awkward laugh slipped past her lips.

“What’s up?” she asked, not moving away from him if he wasn’t going to be moving away from her.

He gave a small shake of his head. “Nothing.” He took a tiny step back, just enough so that if he needed to, he could say that he made an effort to put some distance there. “You, uh,” he motioned back over his shoulder, “you good to go?”

Syd didn’t want to admit that she was disappointed by the sliver of space that Richie had put between them, by the fact that he was ushering the moment to a close before it had even really gotten started. She didn’t want to admit it but she knew that she was. All she could do at that point was hope that it wasn’t written all over her face.

“Yeah. Yeah I just gotta grab my stuff.”

Richie nodded. “Right.”

There was a moment, the two of them standing close even though they weren’t as close as they had been but still feeling just as close. Maybe it was all in his head, or maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t stop studying Sydney’s face and in the process maybe he noticed that she was staring at his lips but he didn’t want to think too much about any of that.

And apparently Sydney didn’t want to think too much about it either because she forced herself to take a small step to the side as she said, “I’m just gonna…grab that…”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding more defeated than he meant to. It wasn’t until she was a few more strides away and out of earshot that he dropped his head and whispered, “Fuck me,” to no one other than himself.

Neither of them said anything about it the following day. Or the day after that. It didn’t matter how often it crossed each of their minds, the possibilities of it all. There were too many other things to handle, too many other moving parts that required their attention. At least that’s what they each told themselves anyway, that and they each tried to assure themselves that there was no way the other could really feel the same way. They were Syd and Richie after all. In what world would things play out like that for them?

For all the havoc it was wreaking on them internally, their saving grace was that they were still able to manage work just fine. Or, as well as they ever had. Bumps and mishaps and screaming matches with Carmy still peppered in for good measure. But they still had each other’s backs, and Syd wished that she knew how to thank him for that without making it weird or blowing up her own spot about it all. It should’ve been easy, but then again nothing with them really ever was.

Sydney didn’t say much when Richie snapped back at Carmy in her defense, saving her the trouble of getting into another argument with him herself. She didn’t comment on the way that his voice had an extra layer of firmness to it when he came to her defense. She just gave Richie a nod and a silently mouthed, “Thank you,” after Carmy walked away. And when Sydney cut Carmy short when he was getting after Richie for things that weren’t actually his fault, Richie didn’t say anything then either. Syd would give him the look, the slight tilt of her head and raise of her brows to ask if he was alright, and rather than say anything in response Richie would just rest his palm against the center of her back for a moment before diving right back into it all.

The Bear had been silent and seemingly empty for a while, dinner service long since done and over with. Sydney was making the final rounds through, reassuring that everything was in the right place for the next day. She still hadn’t gotten around to rearranging the produce but she found herself smiling regardless anytime she thought about it.

She shut off all the lights in the kitchen as she made her way out towards the dining area. She swung the door open with more force than she meant to as she stuffed things haphazardly into her bag.

“Oh, shit,” Richie said with a surprised laugh. “Just crashing through here like that?”

Her eyes widened. “Shit. Fuck, sorry. I didn’t know…I thought it was just me here.” She paused. “What are you still doing here?”

He shook his head slightly, like he was going to dismiss the question. Then he remembered who it was that he was talking to. “Thought I had something but,” he fiddled with the fork on the tabletop, “I think I’m just going fuckin’ insane at this point.”

Sydney laughed as she walked over so that she was standing beside him, staring down at the same table he was. “This place will do that to you.” There was a breath of a pause between them before Syd blurted out, “Are you okay?”

He contorted his face in confusion. “Am I okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know that Carmy has been—”

“Carmy has been the same little bitch he’s always been,” Richie cut her off, simultaneously rude and assuaging her worries. “Nothing changed there. New fancy restaurant and he's still the same fuckin’ toddler. Now he’s just a toddler in debt to fuckin’ Cicero.”

Syd smiled and shook her head. She should’ve known better than to expect a real answer. “Right. Well, if there’s anything I can do…”

“You’re already doing it,” Richie replied before thinking better of it.

“What?”

He froze for a moment before clearing his throat and making himself speak. “You tell anyone I said this and I’ll deny it. I’ll deny it and I’ll get you fucking fired…somehow,” he said and they both laughed quietly before he continued. “But you said it, you know? You called it.”

“Called what?”

“You said that this place could be good. You said it didn’t have to be shitty and you were right. And you made it, you know, not fuckin’ shitty.”

It was one of the realest, most direct compliments he’d ever given her. Or anyone, really. “Thanks.” She paused for a moment as she gnawed the inside of her lip. “It wasn’t just me, though.”

“Talkin’ about Fak?” he joked, trying to erase the tension he felt starting to bubble up all over again.

Sydney laughed. “Yeah, obviously.” She let it hang in the air for a moment before she reached and rested her hand against the outside of Richie’s bicep, pads of her fingers making the fabric of his suit jacket give into her. “It was you too, Richie. You know that, right?”

He didn’t know why his face felt like it was on fire all of a sudden. “Nah, I mean—”

She wasn’t having it. “You make this place good. It’s not, you know, it’s not The Bear without you here.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He forced himself to stop looking at the table and look at her. He was looking for any sign of her backpedaling, waiting for the first hint of sarcasm, but it never came. It was just her there with all of her honesty and her hand on his arm. And suddenly he became very aware of how much closer to him she’d drifted.

He should just say it. That was all he could think as he stood there with her. It’s all he could ever manage to think about in their small moments together like that. He should just fucking say it. He should tell her how he feels. There had to be something to it, right? There was no way that it could all be in his head. And yeah, maybe the last guy thought the same thing but now Richie was standing there with Sydney practically melting into his side while he was about to start melting into the floor. He didn’t want to just be another story that she passed along to the next guy, a cheap laugh at his expense when he wasn’t around, but if that was the price he had to pay to find out if he was living in some form of delusion, maybe it was a price he was willing to pay.

“Syd?” He almost didn’t recognize his own voice, the hesitation in it.

“Yeah?”

She sounded hopeful, which made him hopeful in return. “There’s never a right time, you know? For a lotta shit? I…I know that.” He cleared his throat. “And maybe this is really fuckin’ stupid of me, because we’re finally figuring our shit out and you shot down the last guy but I just gotta say it. I know it’s bad timing but let’s be real it’s not like any of us here ever really have good timing for shit like this.” He studied Syd’s face, looking for any traces of negativity and somehow still missing that she was holding her breath in anticipation. “I think that you, fuck, you’re the greatest thing that’s happened in a long time. To me. And yeah, there’s the restaurant and the rest of it but, but it’s…it’s you.” He punctuated his statement by putting his hand on her shoulder.

Syd thought her heart was going to beat hard enough to crack its way right through her ribcage. “Richie—”

“And if you gotta go all Heartbreaker on me I get it but—”

“Richie,” she repeated herself, just enough to get his attention. “You’re right.” She paused, soaking in the shocked look on Richie’s face as he tried to figure out which part she thought he was right about. “There’s never a good time.” The shock faded to disappointment but she paid it no mind because she knew where she was going next. “But this might be, you know, the best time. The only time. And,” and moved her hand from his arm so that it was resting on top of his hand on her shoulder, “I’m sick of trying to wait for some sort of sign that says it’s the right time. Honestly? I think,” she laughed, “I think this is it. This is the sign.”

The apprehension drained out of him instantly as he listened to each word she said, soaked up the warmth flooding from her hand into his. “Yeah?” he still had to ask, hopefully to a painful degree.

She nodded as she squeezed his hand. “Yeah.”

For once he couldn’t think of anything to say. So he did the next best thing. He turned just enough so that he was facing her, hardly giving either of them time to overthink their way through it as he leaned in and kissed her, his lips catching hers.

His hands cupped both sides of her face, channeling all the instances of almost and maybe into that one action like he was afraid it would be the first and last time. He wanted to make it worth it, wanted to make sure she knew.

Syd felt the way that he leaned down into her, eager, hopeful. She was instantly lost in the way his lips moved against hers, allowing herself to get swept up in it all as her hands fell to rest on his arms—steadying him, keeping him there although he had no intention of trying to be anywhere else.

It was just the two of them in the darkness and quiet of the restaurant, and for once neither of them had the urge to say anything at all.

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #sydney x richie #sydney adamu x richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x sydney adamu #the bear fanfiction #richie jerimovich fanfiction #sydney adamu fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #fiab 2023 #fic in a box 2023

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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.

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