#richie berzatto imagine

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - MASTERLIST

CURRENTLY IN PROGRESS

Summary: The Berzattos were your family; Natalie was one of your closest friends, Carmy was the person you could rely on, and Mikey was... the love of your life. But after Mikey's death, running away seemed to be the only thing that calmed that feeling of fear and depression from consuming you whole. After running for so long, a sign in the form of a text brought you back home and back to The Beef. Whether or not this was a good idea, you didn't know, but you did know that one day, you would have to stop running. And it seemed like returning would try and make you.

Relationships Involved:

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Natalie "Sugar" Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

WARNING, the following slow burn story tends to be on the darker and heavier side, dealing with and containing mentions of death, mental illnesses, grief, toxic relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, anxiety and panic attacks, and more. Please check the warnings mentioned in the beginning of each chapter for a detailed list of what each chapter contains. Like all my work regardless of the content, this story is for 18+ readers only, minors do not view or interact. You have been warned.

Chapters:

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

[thebearer]

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.

[newtkive]

shift shenanigans - s1 social media au

note: jus for fun ! may or may not do more parts.

warnings: crude humor, slightly offensive jokes from richie sry

part two

liked by syd_adamu, marcus.brooks11 and 30 others

chefboyardee: my friends! i love my friends! the two on the right more than the left (i’m joking i promise) 😁😁😁😁

see all 8 comments

syd_adamu: brave of you to call him your friend y/n

↳ chefboyardee: boss man carmy save me

↳ syd_adamu: oh.. :///

marcus.brooks11: you did me so dirty, friend.

↳ chefboyardee: love you marcus you look spectacular

↳ marcus.brooks11: don’t start

richietheking: Where am I?

↳ chefboyardee: ya motha

liked by syd_adamu, chefboyardee and 10 others

richietheking: Getting sh$!t done.

see all 8 comments

marcus.brooks11: This is coolllddd.

↳ richietheking: You already know it man.

syd_adamu: this is actually crazy

carmyberzatto: can you show this on instagram? i think you should delete this.

↳ richietheking: Delete your life.

chefboyardee: come down to the beef for a number 6 the occy way 💯 the safest joint on the block 🤑💯we are 🔛🔝

↳ richietheking: Eyyy I know that’s right.

↳ carmyberzatto: please don’t advertise this.

WE HAVE THE BEEF 🥩

[ 8:25 am ]

y/n:

bruh im about to lose it. heads up when you guys get to work.

marcus: that catering order is about to be crazy

DO NOT REPLY: These white boards are stressing me out.

syd: we know, probably giving you ptsd from not finishing high school

DO NOT REPLY: Fuck you I did finish it.

y/n: oh i gotta change ur contact name richie

richie poo: ????? What

y/n: it was ‘DO NOT REPLY’ lols

marcus: valid

syd: real

richie poo: What? Why?! That’s so rude

y/n: cuz you piss me off

and you kept blowing up my phone yesterday

richie poo: You weren’t answering, and we needed help at the cook out.

syd: the one where you poisoned everyone?

richie poo: Fuck off.

y/n: when i’m off work, i’m off work.

marcus: don’t let carmy hear that, y/n

y/n: don’t remind me

syd: he’s trying at least, go easy on him. he really has great ideas

richie poo: You mean you have great ideas in that little notebook

tina: Never trust a broad with a notebook.

syd: hey! i’m just being helpful

y/n: do you guys think my ig post will hurt carmys feelings

marcus: it would make me a little sad if i were him, but i don’t think he cares

y/n: great i’m gonna cry now

syd: i doubt he even saw it y/n it’s fine

richie poo: Check the work chat. Cousin is in a mood.

y/n: oh great

tina: Help us all.

syd: be nice you guys

WORK

[ 9:15 am ]

carmy: Everyone, we have huge catering orders tomorrow to prep for today. Please get here as soon as you can, the earlier you clock in the better. Additionally, please be careful what you post on social media. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

syd: ok sounds good

richie poo: Cool it, Cousin. What’s the issue with the social media

tina: I use FaceBook. That not allowed now??

carmy: Tina, you’re fine. I’m talking about those who post work things on public accounts

marcus: facebook is crazy

richie poo: I can’t go private

y/n: he needs the likes

richie poo: No I’m disabled from doing so. Not sure why

y/n: liar

richie poo: 😑I don’t like you

carmy: Then please don’t post pics of yourself posting up with a gun and an air horn outside of my shop anymore.

marcus: that pic was fire can’t lie

carmy: Well, it’s bad for business.

richie poo: Fine, whatever

y/n: carmy

carmy: What, Y/n?

y/n: is this because of my caption on my post i’m sorry i promise i wasn’t being for real

carmy: I don’t care Y/n.

y/n: is that code for ‘i care a lot and i’m crying in the office right now and that’s why the door is closed’

oh

syd: ? why the oh

y/n: he opened the door and yelled no 🤨 but i think i saw red eyes

carmy: Please get back to work and I’ll comp a meal for you later

y/n: OMG yes chef 😍

richie poo: Inappropriate emojis and you shouldn’t have to incentivize her to work

y/n: shut up acting like HR i’m gonna beat your ass

jealousy is ugly which is why you have that mug on your face

carmy: Stop

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

i heard your giggle tho

richie poo: Again with the schizo episode

syd: you can’t say that richie

richie poo: Oh sorry

[aestheticaltcow]

Elementary School

Carmy x Fem!Reader fluff A/N: the teacher x carmy vibe is my hyper fixation; it's a fun troupe.

~

“1-2-3, eyes on me!” “1-2, eyes on you!” you smiled as you heard the 15 little voices respond to your attention-grabbing technique. “Okay, my friends, we need to pick up all of our toys before we go home. After clean up, we’re gonna pick up our backpacks and paintings from art class, then go outside to wait for our adults!” you announced.

“So you’re pickin' your girlfriend up from kindergarten?” Carmy rolled his eyes at Richie’s laughter. “You want Eva to get inta her school? Be fuckin’ nice.” Richie laughed again, shaking his head as the two left the restaurant. “It’s just funny, Cousin. She talks to fuckin’ four-year-olds all day. She talk to ya’ bout your big feelings?” Carmy glared at him as he unclipped his keys from his pants. “Shut the fuck up, Richie.” 

You stared at the whiteboard before you, trying to think of a positive affirmation for the kids to say the following morning when your door swung open. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Richie announced. “Hi, Richie, how you doin’?” you smiled, thankful for the distraction; Carmy was hot on his tail and shot you a smile. “Hey baby, he insisted on comin’.” you laughed and shrugged, “I assume you want to harass Teacher Jackie about gettin' Eva into school here.” Richie shrugged, “Carmy said this is like the best school in Chicago….” you shook your head. “She’s down the hall in room 3. She also just broke up with her boyfriend, so if you flirt a little… might get an interview for next semester's admin.” Richie was intrigued and quickly walked down the hallway, leaving you and Carmy alone. 

“Sorry ‘bout him… how was your day baby?” you shrugged, “No one had any accidents, so that was a good thing.” Carmy nodded and stepped closer to you, resting his hands on your hips, “That’s good.” “I also had the best lunch ever…” Carmy chuckled “Oh really?” you nodded, biting your lip playfully. “Yeah, this guy I know slept over last night- he woke up early, made me breakfast, and packed me lunch… need to thank him tonight…” Carmy shook his head before kissing you softly as you moved your hand to Carmy’s neck, “Dam Cousin, can’t be makin’ out in here.” Richie snarked, resulting in you pulling away from Carmy prematurely. Carmy sighed “Later.” you nodded in confirmation that this wasn’t the end.

[donatellawritings]

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!

[springtyme]

Hiii can we get some dating Richie headcanons :)

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐡 ♡

We certainly can! Thank you for the request, I love this disaster of a man so much! I had so much fun with this and I'm so exited for season two 💕 I also couldn't contain myself and made a Richie playlist

word count: 1.4k

Richie had almost given up on love before he met you. Almost.

After a series of failed dates and a couple of meaningless hookups it had seemed to him like love just wasn’t in the cards for him anymore. But then you had come along to prove him wrong. 

Despite how he might come off to some, Richie is definitely a lover boy. Putting himself ‘out there’ after his split with Tiff had been hard, but he knew that he deep down, in the essential core of his being, desperately craved to have someone to share his life with. 

Someone to come home to and share the little moments with. Someone to rant to about how Carmy had been acting like little bitch about the new dishtowels, or how another building downtown has been torn down to be turned into another fucking nightmarish cement parking house. Someone who he could have a laugh with and who would give him a chance to rise above the label of deadbeat loser that the universe seems to have put on him. Someone who could see him for who he truly is. Someone who wouldn’t judge him or think less of him for having sold a little coke from a back alley in a desperate situation. 

Richie will do anything for the people he cares for, so what if his methods are a little unorthodox? He is loyal to the bone and he cares, he fucking cares.      

And that is all he wants, someone to care for. Someone to love and someone to love him. That was all that he dreamed of before, but he had started to lose hope.

But then, when he finally had started to come to terms with the idea that that might never happen, he met you. 

It had all started with a slightly awkward date. He had been quite nervous, way more than he normally was. You just seemed too good to be true, way too good for someone like him anyway. He wanted to give off a good impression so bad that it slightly backfired, or it maybe would have backfired if you weren't you. 

He had been loud and acting confident in a way only a man who’s trying to hide how nervous he actually is can. He had been accidently laughing at his own jokes before the punchline had even landed and stumbling over his own words from time to time, but luckily for him you had found it rather charming. You couldn’t keep the wide smile from spreading on your face as he started rambling about Bill Murray and some old roman goddess. 

He had visibly relaxed after you had declared with a smile that you probably had to give him a call one of these days so you could hear the voicemail from the story, but that you certainly wouldn’t mind if he just happened to pick up the phone.   

He did pick up the phone when you called, and you were not disappointed in the slightest that it was Richie’s voice and not Bill Murray’s that had greeted you.

That first date turned into another, which turned into yet another one and no matter how scared he was that you would suddenly realize how much of a shitshow his life truly is he just didn’t seem to be able to scare you off.  

He’ll be your number one cheerleader, always so proud of you, and he will tell everybody who lets him about you. And he loves to show you off. You are in his opinion way out of his league and he is just so damn proud to have someone as amazing and beautiful as you to call his and to love.

He loves taking pictures of you. Just silly little pictures, you picking up produce at the farmers market or silly little selfies of the two of you as you wait in line at Arby's. He just wants to remember all the nice little moments with you.

He’ll proudly flaunt you on his instagram for all his 36 followers to see (well, 37 now that you follow him)

You will usually try and match your lunch break at work to fit with family at the restaurant. Stepping into the restaurant to be met with a huge smile from Richie is one of the highlights of your day. The staff of the beef are essentially family to him and he is so happy to share you with them. You have become part of that little family and it is more than Richie could ever have dreamt of.

Neither of you are in a rush with your relationship. He is a divorcee with a daughter and you have never had any wild dreams about a wedding or an on paper ‘picture perfect’ relationship with a house and a white picket fence. You just want someone who loves you for exactly who you are and that someone is Richie.

It is about a year into your relationship that you say ‘I love you’ the first time you don’t know if it is late or not but one thing for sure is that the love had been there from early on.

It was four months into your relationship that he had asked you if you would like to meet his daughter and honestly that had been a bigger confession of love than anything else could have been. He loves his daughter more than anything in the world and you know that he would never bring up introducing you to her if it wasn’t because he was serious about you and wanted you as a permanent part of his life.  

You had been a little nervous to meet her, you know how much she means to Richie and you had just really wanted her to like you. You had, however, not been the slightest bit nervous about how you would feel about her, she’s Richie’s little girl after all, a part of him, and you love every part of him. 

Luckily for you, she absolutely adores you, and you adore her. It had meant everything for Richie to know that his baby girl and you were getting along so well. 

It had been on that same night as you had uttered your first ‘I love you’s’ that he had asked you if you wanted to move in together. He had been so happy when you had kissed a ‘yes’ into his lips. 

Living together is everything Richie could ever have dreamt of. Not waking up to an empty bed and knowing that you are at home waiting on him when he comes home from work is like a dream come true.   

He is an early riser, usually you wake up to an empty bed, and even though you sometimes wish you woke up to warm, morning-cuddles it is always made up for by the sight of Richie in the kitchen. He is usually only wearing one of his, seemingly never ending supply of, ‘The Beef’ shirts and a pair of boxers.

His back will be turned to you as he’s in the midst of getting your coffee ready for you. It has become a fixture in your life with Richie, something you wouldn’t give up, even for all the morning-cuddles in the world.

You will sneak up on him and let your arms sneak around him, hugging him tight from behind and he will lean softly back into your embrace.

If he is having a smoke you will pluck the cigarette from his lips and take a few drags as you squish your cheek into his back and slowly let the comforting smell of brewing coffee wake you up. When the cigarette is smoked and ashed into the sink to later be thrown into the ashtray, Richie will turn around, engulfing you in his long, lean arms and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, kissing a ‘good morning’ into your still sleep-warm skin. 

Your relationship with Richie is warm and loving. It doesn’t mean that it is constant smooth sailing, but you always work through the bumps you come across along the road together. That is the true beauty of your relationship with him, the constant reassuring feeling of togetherness.

You are in his life to stay, you are family now and Richie will do anything to keep you happy and by his side.

[angelcakestarlet]

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.

[thefanficmonster]

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.

[mayfieldss]

Mess it up - Carmen Berzatto

Summary: it's your birthday, and Carmy will be damned if he doesn't make you a cake. But he keeps messing it up. Based on the mess it up music video, maybe...?

Content Warnings: language, fluff.

I'm just going to be posting fics i wrote months ago from my phone until my computer is fixed guys, so I'm sorry to all those waiting on requests. I promise I'll finish them all when I get my computer back!

Carmy hated proving himself wrong, but today was one of the days where it was all he seemed to be doing. He'd woken up early, 5:35 in the morning, to be exact, and made a mad dash to his kitchen as if his life depended on it. It was your birthday, as he could recall, and he couldn't stand to not do something special, but he'd thought it would have been easier than this.

A cake. One simple cake. Everyday ingredients and Carmy's years of experience should have boiled this down to the perfect match, but one simple cake has now become his worst enemy.

"shit" Carmy mutters out to the empty apartment as he cracks an egg horribly into the bowl, eggshell painting the rest of the contents. "Stupid fucking-" he grabs a teaspoon, scraping out each individual piece of the disaster with very little patience. It takes him forever and in the end, he trashes the whole thing, starting from scratch. It's the best choice he could have made, and the second time everything is easier. He's mixing everything together as fast as he can, one eye on the clock as the time ticks by.

He's fully capable of success at this point, and when enough time has passed Carmy is ready to reveal the best cake he's ever made. But of course, the powers that be have found it humorous to test him, and as he pulls the pan from the oven, it all goes downhill. He watches it slip from his hands and feels the burn of the tray. He hears the harsh crash as the cake and the pan plant themselves face down on the half-open oven door, and a part of him dies when it all registers in his mind.

He thinks he can save it at first, and when he goes to lift up the tray he believes that everything will be fine, until the cake crumbles out of it hopelessly, sitting sad and broken before him. "Fuck!"

His hands come to his hair for a moment, and he thinks it over, eyes drifting to the clock once more as though it might have an answer for him. It only tells the time, as per usual, and that's when Carmy decides. He can do it all again if he hurries.

And so he does. He makes another cake, and this time he manages to get it out of the oven and right over to the kitchen bench. the icing is the easiest part of it all, and though Carmy isn't a fan of sprinkles himself he adds them on top, hoping that they might make the whole thing a little more special. And it all seems fine for a while, Carmy leaving the house with cake in hand as stress clouds his mind.

Until he drops it. Again.

"Fuck!" he says it so loud that the neighbours have to hold some kind of concern, and to his own surprise he finds himself moving back towards the front door. He knows he should just give up, but as the time passes he's back in the kitchen again mixing everything together for the third time that morning, as if he isn't pissed out of his mind.

"C'mon," he mumbles as he stares blankly at the oven, watching the cake cook through the door of it as if that will somehow make it bake faster than before.

When it's finally done, iced and sprinkled and probably better than the first one he made, he's out the door again, rushing down the steps and into the street. He can catch a bus if he's lucky, though clearly he's not.

"I need this seat." Carmy is trying to be nice, the man sitting on the seat at the front of the bus he's managed to jump on frowning at him as though he's got something on his face. He does, though Carmy doesn't know it. There's flour all over him, and cake batter splattered lightly on his cheek and believe it or not, he has sprinkles in his hair. "I need to make sure I don't drop this fucking cake, seriously, so I know it sucks but if you give me your seat I'll, um, I'll pay you."

The man in front of Carmy raises a brow in intrigue before standing with a shrug, and Carmy takes his place gratefully, the cake now safely in his lap. The stranger, though, stands before Carmy expectantly, and he realises then that the man wants his payment now.

"Oh, uh—hold on." it's tough, but Carmen manages to swing his backpack up to his side and pull out his wallet. He's damn near broke, and the contents are even sadder than Carmy remembered them as he looks inside, pulling out five dollars for the man who'd so kindly given his seat away. "Here." He holds out the money but the stranger shakes his head.

"Dude," he mutters, and Carmy knows full well he wants more, but he doesn't have much left to give.

"It's all I can give you in cash." The cake slides to the side in his lap, and Carmy just manages to stop the thing from falling, bumping some of the icing with his thumb as he does so. But it's safe and in tact other than that, and Carmy is willing to accept that as a win.

"What about the cake?" The man beside him asks, eyeing up the pink iced treat Carmy is trying so desperately to protect. "Can I have a slice?"

"Fuck no." Carmy's response comes so fast that the words seem to hit the man like a bullet, leaving Carmy's new travel companion with a harsh frown.

"Jeez, screw you, dude." The guy seems mad, and as the bus pulls to its next stop, Carmy thinks he's made a new enemy. He wants to feel bad about it but can't bring himself to as he looks down at the cake on his lap.

He's done it. He's kept the cake safe.

And it's all worth it when he sees you, bright-eyed and beautiful in your blue apron, ready for the day. He's later, very late, but all his cares in the world seem to disappear the moment you look at him.

And of course it can't be that easy. As easy as locking his eyes with yours and finding a peace, a calm between himself, this cake and you.

"Corner!" The shout comes loud as Richie appears out of nowhere, at work earlier than Carmy for once, but the shout isn't enough warning as the mans chest slams against Carmen's shoulder. It's like slow motion after that, as the cake tumbles from his grasp. It hits the floor with a pathetic slap, and Carmy wants to scream. So he does.

"Fuck!"

He's staring down at the cake as Richie mumbles a half-apology.

"I said corner dude, I'm sorry, but we gotta get going couisn." Richie moves off before Carmy can shout any more profanities, and when he raises his gaze, he sees you. Your lips are open in an 'oh' shape, but when his eyes meet your own, the expression turns into a smile. Sweet and gentle, and filled with a genuine compassion that Carmy doesn't often receive.

When you take steps toward him and his fallen cake, pink icing splattered hopelessly on the tile, he sighs. "Happy birthday."

Your smirk turns to a grin, accompanied by a soft laugh. "Thank you, Bear." You shift your gaze to the cake on the floor, head tilted to the side. "It's still salvageable."

Carmy can only shake his head as you say it but watches you crouch down and grasp a handful of the cake that hasn't touched the floor yet. Your fingers press into the icing, and you smile into the bite of it you take.

"Best birthday cake ever." You mumble as you chew, before moving off to continue with your work, and of course, wash your hands.

And after all of it, Carmen feels okay.

It hadn't worked out how he'd planned in any form, but he'd achieved the main goal he supposed. Delivering you a cake on your birthday was a part of it, but really, he'd done it to see you happy. To see you smiling from something he'd done. And somehow, his mess of a cake had done just that. And your smile was the best prize he'd ever won.

- ♡ -

Reblog to support your writers!!

CARMEN BERZATTO TAGLIST: @thrutheburnout @diorrfairy @norriebunny @yeschefthankyouchef

THE BEAR TAGLIST: @live-love-be-unique @kpopgirlbtssvt

[sydscarm]

end of beginning, part one.

carmen berzatto x childhood bestfriend!reader word count : 2.3k warning(s) : none!

and when i'm back in chicago, i feel it. another version of me, i was in it.

9 YEARS AGO.

"i don't understand why you're so mad at me! you said you were fine with me working at the beef!"

this was the first and only fight they would have about this. after begging and begging his older brother to hire him at his restaurant, carmen berzatto was still not even allowed on the premises. carmy really just wanted to take orders. or sweep. or wash dishes. or just anything. but no. micheal berzatto wouldn't even let his little brother in the front door. carmy had complained to his best friend tirelessly about how much he wanted to work at the beef and how hard he had worked to prove himself to his older brother and she listened intensely. she too had applied at the beef but since mikey wouldn't even hire his own flesh and blood, she knew she had no shot at getting the job herself. being the younger sister of micheal's best friend came with its perks, of course. she was always invited to christmas dinner and had been given the recipe on how to make the best italian beef sandwiches. but it also came with its downfalls. being the same age as his younger brother, mikey held her to almost the same standard that he held carmy. she was only allowed at the beef on special occasions and she thought she had no chance at being bestowed the honor of washing dishes in the dirty kitchen of the beef.

two months ago, y/n had tagged along with her brother, richie, on a run to the restaurant. richie had to drop off paperwork for something she really wasn't interested in and after relentless begging, he had let her come with. it was only supposed to be a short trip. they were going to run into the shop, drop off some papers, and maybe get a sandwich to-go. but what was supposed to be a quick visit turned into a multiple hour affair. richie and mikey had gotten to talking and there was no stopping it when mikey started on one of his tangents. somewhere in their hours long conversation, y/n's older brother had decided to throw his sister a bone and mention to his friend that she was "on his ass" about wanting to work at the beef. mikey had immediately shut him down but after glancing at the girl sitting nearby, a pout on her lip and her hands folded together in a silent plea, he reluctantly agreed to give her a job. it was only after school and on the weekends and the pay was terrible and she was only allowed to clean tables and mop the floors, but it got her in the door. she was ecstatic.

as soon as she got home, she immediately called her best friend. the excitement was evident in her voice, which in turn made carmy's heart race as he waited anxiously for what she going to tell him. his smile dropped and his stomach churned when the words "i got a job at the beef" left her mouth. he could hear the grin in her tone and she could hear the long pause carmy took after she told him the news. she apologized profusely, of course. she knew how much that job had meant to him and she felt guilty that she had gotten it instead. she assured him over and over that if he didn't want her to take the job, she wouldn't. their friendship was much more important to her than $7.25 an hour and sweeping up pieces of beef that had fallen to the floor. she could hear him gulp and sigh and she fully expected him to tell her no. but instead she heard him stutter, shuffle around, and say, "no, it's fine. i'm happy for you."

that was two months ago. y/n hadn't done much else in her time working at the beef than mop and take an order when mikey let her. it wasn't fun and the pay was awful, but y/n couldn't remember the last time she would wake up that excited. the day that her and carmy had their fight, she had gotten up early on a saturday, put on her non-slip shoes and a "the original beef of chicagoland" t-shirt, and sat in the car while she waited for richie. they had gotten there earlier than normal and the chefs were in the beginning stages of prepping for the day. y/n had put her stuff in the office, there was no locker for her, and prepared to sit around all morning until the restaurant finally opened. she had only been sitting for about 15 minutes when mikey popped his head in the door. 

"yo, honey," he had started, the nickname he gave her 16 years ago making its usual appearance, "do you wanna help us prep today?"

she was shocked. her mouth was agape and she just stared at him. did she want to prep? to her that was the equivalent of asking her if she wanted a million dollars. "uh…" she looked around the room. she was kind of unsure if she was being pranked or not.

mikey laughed. "you're just chopping fucking onions and tomatoes, dude. it's not hard." 

y/n, albeit nervously, laughed back. "uh, yeah! y-yes. i would love to help prep."

"then c'mon."

she was on cloud nine. for two hours mikey let her cut tomatoes and peppers and onions and stir a pot or two. she was smiling the entire time. richie and mikey had laughed at how excited she was but she didn't care. this was the most exciting thing that had happened to her thus far. after her shift was completely over, the floors mopped and the open sign turned to close, she ran all the way from her house to carmy's. she opened the door without knocking and took the stairs two at a time to get to his room. 

"bear! guess what?!" she was out of breath, bent over with her hands on her knees. carmy was sitting in his desk chair facing her with his eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. she had just burst into his room yelling after all. 

"what?" he had chuckled at her. 

"mikey… fuck, give me a second." she was still catching her breath.

"did you run all the way here?" carmy asked. it wasn't the first time she felt she had news so important that she ran the mile from her house to his. 

"yes! anyway," she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, a telltale sign she was about to burst with excitement, "mikey let me help prep today! isn't that so exciting! it was only cutting onions and tomatoes and what not but he-"

carmy had tuned her out. he was fine with her working at the beef, really. he was happy for her. but only if she was washing dishes. it was a low level job. it didn't require any of the chef skills they were both so proud of. he was fine with that. he didn't need to prove to mikey that he was capable of wiping tables but his knife skills were something he was really proud of. he would never say this to y/n, but his knife skills were better than hers. and mikey let her chop vegetables. 

"are you serious?"

she was mid sentance and her smile shook a little bit when he interrupted her. "uh, yeah! isn't that so cool?"

he rolled his eyes. he didn't mean to, not really. the jealousy was basically oozing from his pores. "yeah. yeah that's super fucking cool, y/n." 

she just stood there, eyebrows furrowed. "are you mad at me?" 

carmy swiveled around in his chair to rest his elbows on his small desk, his hands coming up to cover his face. a knot began to form in his throat and his breaths started coming out a bit shaky. he wasn't angry at her persay, he was more angry at mikey than anything. ever since y/n got her job at the beef, carmy had started working so much harder in front of mikey in hopes that he'd hire him too. he'd get to work with his best, and only, friend and maybe, if he practiced hard enough, mikey would let him prep sometimes. but none of it had mattered. mikey was going to let y/n work at the restaurant and let y/n prep and leave nothing for his own brother.

"i mean i'm not exactly happy," carmy mumbled through his hands. 

y/n stood behind him, playing with her fingers. she was kind of unsure of what to say. she would offer to quit to save their friendship, but she didn't really want to. she really liked working the beef and after today, there was a hope deep inside her that mikey would let her take on bigger duties. 

"i could talk to mikey again, if you want. you know, to see if he'll reconsider hiring you."

carmy groaned. i wasn't really about having the job anymore. it was more about mikey trusting her more than he trusted him. he spun around quickly, his arms falling back to his sides. "i don't even know why you took that job in the first place."

she was taken aback and she scoffed, almost as a reflex. "what? you said you were fine with it!" "well obviously i'm not!" he yelled at her. he yelled. carmy had always been soft spoken and shy. it was only recently that he started talking back to his mom and, apparently, yelling at his best friend. 

y/n just stared at him. "well, i don't know what you want me to do about it now."

"quit."

her eyes widened and her stomach dropped. she could feel that he was going to say that, but hearing it out loud was much different. "what?"

he stepped closer to her and she could see the anger in his face. his eyes were filled with tears, though. the anger on his face a direct contrast to the sadness that filled his eyes. "i want you to quit."

y/n lowered her head under his gaze. she was never one to shy away from carmy but you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. and she almost gave in. she almost told him yes and that she would quit in order to make his pain go away. but she couldn't. she loved that job. she loved the way the kitchen smelled while everyone was prepping and she loved the soft sound of mikey's radio ringing out from back of house. she couldn't give that up. even if it meant breaking the heart of her best friend.

"i can't," she whispered. 

carmy's stomach churned and for a second he thought he was going to throw up. he knew she was going to say no. and he felt awful for the thoughts clouding his mind. the ultimatum left his mouth before he had thought enough about it to stop it.

"i-if you keep working at the beef, i don't.. i don't think we can be friends."

if she wasn't on the verge of tears before, she is now. she tried to blink away the tears clouding her vision but they just rolled down her cheeks. what was she supposed to say? carmy was her best, and only, close friend. she had other friends, sure. but none of them understood or knew her the way that carmy did. they had been best friends since birth, thanks to their older brothers. but she couldn't quit her job at the beef, she knew that. and as much as he didn't want to admit it, carmy knew it too. 

"that's… really selfish, carmen."

he knew that. he knew that before the words had even formed in his brain. but hearing her call him selfish coupled with the fact that she called him carmen, something she never did, ignited something in him. a rage that he had never felt before and he didn't even know if it was directed at her. 

"i think choosing a fucking job over your friendship with me is even more selfish!"

she scoffed, the tears drying almost immediately. "i don't understand why you're so mad at me! you said you were fine with me working at the beef!"

"that's just not something you do, y/n! i've wanted that job years longer than you! you just wanted to work there because don't have any hobbies other than fucking following me around!" 

ok. ouch.

"i like my job at the beef so much because it gives me chance to get the fuck away from you!" she didn't mean it, but she needed to find something to say that would hurt him as much as he hurt her. "i get that you don't have any other fucking friends but god! asking me to quit my job because you don't like that i'm spending time away from you is pathetic." 

he was taken aback. that hurt. fighting with someone who knows you better than anyone else is a risky move. they both knew exactly what to say that would hurt each other the most. 

y/n grabs her keys that she threw on carmy's bed and turned to fling open the door.

carmy scoffed. "i don't know who the fuck you are anymore." 

"not your best friend, apparently." and with that, she slammed his bedroom door. 

and she was right. after being no contact for nine year and two moves to new york later, they both have new best friends. until mikey died and they both move back to chicago, only to find that the beef was left to two people. the names on the operating agreement? y/n jerimovich and carmen berzatto.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter One

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: You finally grab the bear by its ears and face it head on, despite all the unanswered questions. 

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of self harm, grief, death, mental health issues, strained relationships, smoking.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: OMG thank you all for all the kind words and love ! ! ! I'm gonna b honest with you all, after i posted the prologue I completely logged out of my account for the week LOL I was SO nervous abt it and so I just left it alone 😭 but I'm back with the first official chapter ! Also, I am opening the taglist for this series, so please let me know if you want to be tagged ! Thank you to one of you lovely readers for asking about that ❤️ your comment was very appreciate bc tbh I completely forgot abt even considering making one 💀 thank u babes ily and I hope you all enjoy !!!

Taglist: @marysucks-blog

PROLOGUE / MASTERLIST

The rumble and honk of a car driving quickly down the street took you out of your thoughts. 

Here you were, once again, on the sidewalk and across the street from The Beef. This time, it was not some odd hour of the night but rather 4 o'clock in the evening. 

After tossing and turning all night long, you rose early that morning much to the insistence of your mom and dad, who were very much eager to get you to reunite with Natalie, with bags under your eyes and stiff joints. You trudged around the house, jumping at every small noise that somewhat resembled the notification sound of your phone, before finally giving up and plopping down on the sofa to send Sugar a text. 

'Hi Sugar, it's me. Nice to talk to you again. I'll swing by The Beef at around 4 if that's okay with you.' 

About 5 minutes later, a loud buzz made you drop a glass of water to the floor.

'Of course! I'm so happy to hear from you! I can't wait (:' 

You could feel a pit forming in your stomach as you read the message. You can practically hear the way her voice lifts in excitement as you read it. To make matters worse, the smiley face felt like it had a mind of its own and it was taunting you. It practically said 'Remember the good days? Remember how close you and Sugar were? Before everything happened?' 

With a shallow breath, you threw your phone onto the nearest soft surface and scooped the broken glass up with your bare hands.  

Your parents fussed around you all afternoon before you left. At first, they said it was to make sure you were okay with going over there but it became pretty clear that they were pretty much just making sure you weren't going to back out. While you understood why they were chasing you around like a chick chased their mother hen, you got tired of it really quickly.

"Mom, I'm serious, I'm okay!" You insisted, pulling your shoe on and pausing at the threshold of the front door. 

"Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you? How about you let us drive you-" 

"I'm fine!! I'm going now!" 

With a sigh, your mother glances at your father before nodding, "Alright honey, be safe." 

With a weak smile, you headed off. 

And now here you were, finding yourself halfway down the street and being honked at by someone in their car. 

Snapping back to the present after replaying your hectic morning, you jump at the realization that you were unconsciously halfway across the street and heading towards The Beef.

"GET OUT THE WAY!" The person in the car yelled, sticking their head out the window. 

You ran to the sidewalk and half slammed your body against the wall, chest heaving. You had no idea what took over you and made you move without thinking but here you are now, in front of the same place you vowed to never be at again after Mikey's death: The Beef.

"Fuck…" you murmured to yourself, trying desperately to catch your breath as you closed your eyes. 

Focusing on the sounds of tires on pavement and rustling leaves on trees, you took a breath. You counted from 1 to 100 and then back to 1 again. You then opened your eyes and counted 5 things you could see, 4 things you could touch…

With a hard swallow, you turned around, ready to walk to the front door now. It was past 4 now but from the messages you got earlier from Sugar, you knew that there was 'no rush' and to just 'come in the front door'. 

"I can do this, I can do this…" you whispered to yourself and lightly jumped in place, hyping yourself up. 

You pushed forward, rounding the corner of the wall and to the front door, when BAM! Some guy just slams into you. 

You fly backward, stumbling as you try your hardest to avoid falling onto the pavement. 

"Watch it, idiot!" Some guy in a high vis vest barks at you before marching away with a wrapped sandwich in his hand. 

You stare, mouth open in silent shock and confusion, unable to respond. If this guy had bumped into you about a year ago, you would have practically beat him up yourself. Mikey would've had to come out of the restaurant and drag you off the guy, laughing and cheering all the way. His strong arms would wrap around you and somehow lift you up and off, voice husky in your ear as he alternates between voicing good humored apologies to the guy who had the misfortune of being an asshole to you and murmuring about how hot you looked while you defended yourself.

But in this moment, all you could do was regain the little confidence you had and go back to the task at hand: walking in. 

You swallow before standing up straight, plastering on a faux confident but cool grin onto your face. With your head held high in a way that you used to do but doesn't feel like you anymore, you jam a fist into your pocket and use your other free hand to push the front door open and waltz in. 

Cooly, you scan the empty restaurant. It seems like the lunch rush was very much over by now and the last customer for a while before the dinner rush had crashed into you and left moments before. So now, it was just you and The Beef. 

"Give me one sec!" A loud and charmingly obnoxious voice yelled from the kitchen. 

Your facade slipped as you heard this voice. Instantly, your shoulders sagged as you let out a quiet but pained laugh under your breath. 

The booming voice of Richie got louder and louder as he came out of the kitchen and to the counter, "How can I help you-" 

He paused. You immediately stood up straight again, a wide and sly but fake grin spreading over your face. 

Richie blinked, frozen. His eyes were wide and mouth had dropped slightly open.

After a couple seconds, the awkwardness started to set in for you, prompting you to speak up, "Jesus, Richie, you look like you've seen a ghost." 

In an instant, Richie snapped back to reality with a grin on his face, "COUSIN!" 

You winced at the volume, apparently not being the only one as you heard a couple muffled groans and protests from the kitchen as well as someone saying "what?!"

Richie threw his arms out, wide, before dropping them and racing around the counter to you. With a laugh, Richie's arms enveloped you, squeezing tight. 

You stiffened up immediately, feeling bad for not reciprocating instantly like you used to do. But whether or not that bothered Richie, you would never know because as fast as he enveloped you in a hug, he pulled away. 

"Cousin, what the hell are you doing this side of the country, huh?!" He grinned and placed his hands on his hips. 

"Oh my gosh!" Another voice said. 

Your head whipped to see Sugar at the doorway to the kitchen. She clutched a clipboard in her arms but as both of your eyes connected, she let it fall to the floor with a clatter. 

You can see her eyes well with tears as she raced around the counter to join you and Richie and as she got closer, she blinked them away. A wary smile appeared on her lips as she stood next to you, making her look a cross between nervous and relieved. 

"Richie, give her some space. Oh my gosh, hi!!" Natalie gasped. 

You winced a bit and smiled, "Hey…" 

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there forever. 

"Shit cousin, I had no idea you were coming here! If you let us know beforehand, we could've made you a welcome party or, or, or something!" Richie said, ignoring Natalie. 

"How the hell have you been? How was it out west? I heard you got back in town but had no clue you were coming over here to visit!" Richie continued, going on and on and on. 

You stared at him, eyeing the way he looked rugged and much more tired than usual. But Richie was the same old Richie, loud and brash but caring when he wanted to be. 

Your eyes wandered from Richie's frame over to Natalie, who seemed to be analyzing your body silently. Her eyes were filled with worry and her fingers rapidly intertwined with themselves as she gave you a look that meant to say, 'Is this okay? Are you okay?'

You glance back at Richie before your eyes fell behind the two and to the entrance of the kitchen where a crowd had formed. 

And in front of that crowd was Carmy. 

Your shoulders tensed up, visibly enough to make Natalie perk up and whip her head around to see what you were staring at and make Richie go silent. The two glanced at Carmy and, unbeknownst to you, gave him a look of warning. 

Carmy wiped his hands on the towel he had and stared back, silent. His body language was unreadable and you couldn't tell whether or not he was upset at seeing you. Either way, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand. 

"Carmy…" you said, voice hoarse. 

You cleared your throat and awkwardly nodded, acknowledging those around him. You recognized a couple faces and others seemed unfamiliar but either way, they all looked at you with curious and cautious eyes. 

After stewing in silence for a bit, Sugar spoke up, "Carmy… say hello". 

Carmy blinked, eyes still set on you making you feel pinned to the spot. You could feel your breakfast swirl in your stomach as his eyes glared into you, analyzing your every move. Finally, he nodded and turned around, making the crowd behind him part like the red sea as he moved back into the kitchen. 

Suddenly, another face appeared in the doorway of the kitchen before yelling out your name excitedly. Fak came racing out of the kitchen, following the same path that Richie and Natalie took, before stopping in front of you.

"Holy shit!," he exclaimed happily, "Your home!" 

Your shoulder sagged. 

Home. 

You were home. 

He giggled to himself, not at all noticing your reaction "I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?" 

"Jesus man, give her some space she just arrived," Richie began, already launching into an argument. 

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine!" Fak said, head snapping over to Richie before the two began to bicker. 

Natalie rolled her eyes at them and turned to you, still concerned, "Just ignore them. Are you okay, sweetie?" 

You stood up straight again, wiping the wide eyed expression you didn't even know you had on your face for one with a lazy smile, "Yea, I'm okay." 

She reached her arm out, hesitating for a second to see if you would reject her, before resting her hand on your forearm when you seemed okay with it. She gently ushered you around the bickering men and behind the counter, to the kitchen. The crowd watching dispersed with curious eyes and kind smiles from those you recognized, letting you two pass through. 

As you walked through the kitchen, gulping as your eyes retraced each corner and crevice you had tried to forget about, your eyes stopped briefly to look at Carmy. With his back towards you, he silently chopped some vegetables, seemingly ignoring what was happening around him. 

"Here we are," Sugar said, quietly announcing to you to get your attention. 

You turned and dug your heels into the ground, soles squeaking as you did so. Sugar jumped back and glanced at you. 

"Can we… I'd rather we talk outside." You announce, voice wavering in a way that made your previous confident persona waver. 

Right in front of you stood the door to the office; an office you were very much familiar with as you too had spent many times there. All those memories, all bittersweet at this point, came rushing back; the nights you spent arguing over bills and paperwork with Mikey, the days you came with a bag of donuts from your favorite shop nearby, the intimate moments where your and his lips connected behind the closed door, the moments in which you hid in the office and cried your heart out. 

Sugar noticed the way your eyes had become misty and promptly led you to the back door of the kitchen and to the alleyway.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that's okay. We can talk here.” she said soothingly.

Her voice was so comforting, making you feel nauseous. You hated the way that Sugar would always act very motherly, even when you were all kids. 

With a shaky breath, you nodded and smiled anxiously, “I'm okay Sugar, you don’t need to worry.”

Glancing at you, Sugar smiled softly. But her smile quickly dropped when she scanned your features, taking in your face again. 

“You look,” she began quietly, “You look good.”

You chuckled to yourself, knowing damn well that she was wrong, “Thanks, you too.”

Richie bursts out the back door, with Fak in town, still bickering.

“My God you two, just stop!” Sugar yells, getting the two to finally snap their mouths shut. 

Fak playfully salutes Sugar, a knowing look on his face while Richie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. 

“Yea whatever. I’m just happy to see you again, cousin.” Richie says, directing his body to you, with a tone of softness in his voice that felt so foreign that it made you shiver. 

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said softly, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

It was silent for a bit as the four of you all glanced at one another, unsure where to start and what to say. Each party had so much they wanted to say to each other at that moment, but you knew that the three people standing before you had the most to say to you. 

Carmy came out the back door, silent and unsurprised to see the four of you glance in his direction. He closed the door behind him and stood off to the side, away from all of you. He then proceeded to take out a pack and light a cigarette, quietly puffing. 

“Cousin, did you even say hello? It’s rude as hell to just ignore her,” Richie said, a bit agitated at his dismissive behavior.

Yet Carmy ignored him, staring out to the side and away from you all, his blue eyes flickering, but refusing to even glance in your direction.

You could feel your eyes prickle and your throat tighten, regretting even showing up. Carmy was the one person you haven't seen the longest and here he was, ignoring you as if you didn’t even exist.

“Hey,” Richie barked, taking you out of your thoughts, “At least look at her!”

Richie began to stomp forward to Carmy, making you and Sugar flinch as you watched. Fak moved forward, reaching out to Richie and mumbling quietly to get him to stop. Right before Richie could grab Carmy by the shoulder, Carmy spoke up.

“I’m glad you're okay.”

Your mouth dried up.

His eyes turned to you and all you could see in them was pained understanding. He knew you weren’t okay; an okay person wouldn’t just pack up and leave the night after her boyfriend’s funeral. But, he saw that you were alive and the fact that you showed up here after so long meant something. 

It meant that now you were okay.

“Thanks Carmy” you said, making everyone’s head turn to you. 

Richie rocked his jaw and nodded silently, stepping back from Carmy. 

The three of them watched as Carmy lifted his box of cigarettes and offered one to you. They then watched as you walked forward, arms that had wrapped around your body falling, to grab one. He fished his worn lighter from his pocket, carefully lighting the cig you held around your lips for you, before pocketing it and leaning back against the wall.

You take a deep drag, letting the nicotine smoke fill your lungs before exhaling. It soothed your nerves, reminding you of the moments that you spent outside with Carmy, avoiding the yells from inside the house during a Berzatto family event. 

Suddenly, a deep funny feeling began to strew about in your belly. It felt odd and you tried to suppress it, but you just couldn’t help it. You barked out a laugh. 

It surprised you and everyone, not at all expecting it. You felt your cheeks heat up, horrified as to why you just laughed. 

You breathed in, only for it to come out as another laugh. Your horror was then replaced with amusement, making you laugh even harder. 

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all averted their gazes, a mixture of remorse and shame written all over their faces. 

You laughed even harder, slamming your back against the wall before sliding into a crouch. Your body shook so hard as you laughed, barely able to keep the cigarette between your fingers. 

Carmy looked away, an empty look on his face as he too chuckled to himself. 

After laughing so much that your belly began to hurt, you finally spoke up between dissolving giggles, “What the fuck am i even doing here!?”

Natalie turned her back to everyone, clutching her body in her arms. Fak walked forward and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even look at him as he hooked one of his arms under your arm and helped you up from the floor to stand against the wall again. Your knees buckled slightly as you continued giggling and wheezing in an attempt to catch your breath.

Fak stepped back and sighed softly, watching your chest heave as your breathing began to stabilize. 

An uncomfortable silence fell as you caught your breath, leaving the four of you in limbo to listen to a couple cars pass by and the wind blow softly by.

Carmy straightened up, making everyone except Sugar turn to him. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it under his shoe. He then reached behind him to untie the knot of his apron and then moved to his neck where he took it off completely. He thrusted it forward, pushing it to you.

“Okay Chef, break is over.” He said. 

You looked over at him, finding no fear or sadness on his face, before nodding and grabbing the apron. He stepped back and turned, moving to open the back door and step inside. 

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all turned to you.

“Break is over,” you repeated and began to tie the apron around yourself before opening the backdoor and walking back inside. 

[thebearer]

I’m obsessed with your whole account! 🫶🏻

Imagine the first family you go to when you’re newly dating. You sneak into the kitchen and when he sees you he lights up and I know that Ritchie would give him such shit lol

thank you thank you!! this is so cute ahhh!! hope you enjoy!!

Carmen’s text told you to come to the back- but not the left alley, just park next to him in the back, you won’t get towed there. You rang the buzzer, finger jabbing in the tiny button, a shrill ringing from the inside that had you stepping back at the rise in voices.

“I got it! I got it, Chef! Fuck.” You heard Carmen before you saw him, white shirt, blue apron, bluer eyes.

“Oh, h-hey.” Carmen’s eyes lit, dazzling even in the gloomy Chicago day.

“Hi.” You grinned.

This relationship was new between you and Carmen, still exciting, still learning about each other. He felt bad for not getting to see you as much as he wanted, inviting you to ‘family’.

“Uh, shit, sorry, my brain is all over the fuckin’ place. Come in.” Carmen pushed the heavy back door open so you could slip in, taking in the back of the kitchen. Newly renovated and still dazzling.

“You find it ok?” Carmen asked, immediately flinching. “I-I mean, obviously you did. Was- It wasn’t hard to find, right?” He’s blushing already, babbling in that nervous trill he always did around you.

“Yeah, you have perfect directions.” You hummed. “My GPS made it easy too.”

Carmen was burning to his ears. “Right.” He nodded, hands on his hips when Marcus whizzed at him.

“Chef, where is the basil paste- oh, hello.” Marcus stopped, eyes meeting yours. “Are you the new hostess? I’m Marcus-“

“-No, no, she’s not… She’s not a hostess.” Carmen’s cheeks burned more, if that was even possible. Did he say girlfriend? He hadn’t asked, and fuck, he didn’t want a repeat of last time, but this was different. You were different.

“Oh. Right.” Marcus caught Carmen’s eye, grinning knowingly. “Well, uh, it’s nice to meet you. Carmen’s talked a lot about you.”

“Has he?” You giggled, eyes flicking to Carmen’s, amused by his discomfort. “Good things, right?”

“Of course.” Carmen laughed, nervous and breathy.

“Yeah, only the best things.” Marcus nodded. “Uh, Chef, basil paste? For the cannolis?”

“Right, right, uh, in the walk-in top left.” Carmen nodded, Marcus waving at you before walking away.

“So you’ve been talking about me?” You lifted a brow playfully.

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor. “Yeah, of course.” He muttered, boyish and sweet. “Uh, we should be done soon, if-if you want to look at the front or sit in my office. Or whatever you want to.”

“Wherever you want me, Chef.” You quipped playfully. Carmen could feel his zipper tightening behind his jeans.

“Uh, why don’t you look at the front. I, uh, I hung that painting we got.” Carmen put s hand on your back, hesitantly, leading you through the kitchen. It was so minimal, so sweet, how he was hesitant to touch you still so respectful and a little scared- like you hadn’t spent the better part of last night and early this morning with him between your legs.

“Oh? You actually liked it?” You giggled. “Weren’t just lying to me to impress me?”

“Never.” Carmen grinned sweetly.

You looked at the dimming lights, so elegant and classy. It was a far cry from The Beef, but you loved it. It was so Carmen, inside and out.

“I’m going to go check on everyone, but, uh, I’ll be back, ok? Just-Just yell if you need anythin’, alright?” Carmen nodded, hand rubbing down your arm gently.

“I’ll be alright, Carmy.” You grin. “Go on, Chef. I’ll roll silverware if you need me to. Keep myself busy.”

“No, I- that’d be a pretty shitty date askin’ you to work.” Carmen laughed lightly.

“Had worse. Promise.” You shrugged playfully. “I don’t mind, Carmy.”

“No, we got it covered, but thank you.” Carmen hesitated for a moment, faltering before he let his lips brush over your cheek. “I’ll be back.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Cousin.” The swinging doors flung open, Richie waltzing in with a wide smirk. “I’ll keep her company. How you doin’, sweetheart? Good to see you again.”

You laughed at Carmen’s horrified face. You’d met Richie once, briefly, very briefly. When he’d bust through the door of Carmen’s apartment unannounced and caught a glimpse of you bent over the counter before Carmen screeched at him to leave. Carmen had been mortified, sure you would leave him because of his stupid not even cousin. You had just laughed, hiding your face in your hands, before you were introduced.

“Oh, fuck, not this.” Carmen groaned. “Cousin, please, don’t-don’t fuck this up f’me.” He muttered lowly, passing Richie in the door.

“C’mon, cousin. Are you serious? It’s me.” Richie rolled his eyes, a statement that did not make Carmen feel any better. “I got it. I won’t embarrass you, Chef.”

Carmen hesitated, the loud clattering of a pot falling the only thing that brought his attention away, turning back into the kitchen.

During family, Carmen made your plate for you, telling you about the dish with so much excitement and care it made you swoon. You couldn’t care less about the ingredients or the history truly, but the way Carmen’s eyes lit up, rambling about every fact he knew made your heart swell.

Tina’s eyes cut, lips rolling in smug satisfaction. “Richard,” She called, catching his attention. She nodded lightly towards the two of you, huddled together and giggling lightly between soft whispers. “She a good one?”

“The best, T.” Richie nodded proudly. He believed it too, he loved how good you were with Carm- for Carmen.

Tina nodded. “Good.” She smiled, beaming at the two of you. “Jeff needs it. Needs somethin’ besides this place.”

Richie snorted lightly. “Yeah? You have no idea.” He muttered, looking down at the two of you. You were good, both of you, good for each other. Richie had a feeling that this wouldn’t be your last family- he had a feeling you’d stick around.

[newtkive]

shift shenanigans - social media au (pt. 2)

note: yes there’s the main work chat w carmy, the secret coworker chat w/o carmy, and the secret secret bestie chat w syd, marcus, and yourself. it would be canon.

warnings: crude humor, slightly offensive jokes

part one

liked by carmyberzatto, marcus.brooks11 and 40 others

chefboyardee: life lately

see all 9 comments

syd_adamu: that pho was life changing

↳ chefboyardee: i think it was the best i’ve ever had

marcus.brooks11: feet off the table @syd_adamu

↳ chefboyardee: leave my girl alone

↳ richietheking: I knew you guys were lez

↳ syd_adamu: we aren’t and you can’t say that

↳ chefboyardee: oh.. we aren’t? ☹️😔

↳ syd_adamu: 😑

carmyberzatto: 🍲🔥

THE GOLDEN TRIO

[ 7:45 AM ]

y/n: did you see

did you see

did

you

see

ogmgokggkowkfofsk

syd: pardon??

what did richie do oh my god

did he post another picture of him with the gun from that one day

fuckkkk carmys gonna be so mad

marcus: nope i wish

y/n: he commented on my post 😭😭😭😭

syd: who

marcus: think about it

who else would cause this reaction

y/n: carmy!!!!!!!

i woke up to him commenting 🍲🔥 😍😍😍😍

syd: woah and the heart eyes?

y/n: no that’s my addition

syd: the bar is in hell

HES YOUR BOSS

y/n: AND I WANT HIS BABIES??

marcus: y’all so hype to be pregnant THEN BOOOMMM ‼️ THE BABY’S UGLY AND BALD WITH ECZEMA 😩🤨

syd: LMFAOOOOO WHOS YALL THO????

y/n: bye im done

im leaving for work.

don’t talk to me ever again

done.

marcus: bye 👋

why do you leave so early fool

syd: so she can be teachers pet

marcus: smh always there before everyone

y/n: not true.

syd: i thought you weren’t talking to us

y/n: 😒

marcus: want me to bring y’all an iced latte again

y/n: …. 😁

WORK

[ 8:15 AM ]

y/n: AYOOOO

great job cleaning up after work yesterday 😊👍

richie: Is this a joke?

y/n: why would i joke about such a thing

carmy: Y/n what are you doing

y/n: u said to tell everyone their housekeeping is shitty

carmy: No I said I was going to tell them that, and you said no I’ll do it

This is not what I meant

y/n: well you yell too much

marcus: ouch

that’s my station 😔

carmy: Well clean it better

y/n: im using reverse psychology and positive reinforcement

carmy: Not what that means

y/n: well notice how no one’s mad at me

im making alliances day by day

richie: You’ve worked here for two years and we are already friends

y/n: so you’re saying you aren’t my ally

richie: No

We are definitley in an alliance

y/n: love u richie

richie: Don’t go that far

chefboyardee’s instagram stories

WE HAVE THE BEEF 🥩

[ 3:25 PM ]

y/n:

he so fine im bouta cermmmmm

syd: …..

marcus: :O

y/n: why are you acting shocked

like i haven’t said this daily

tina: Woah girl who?

y/n: HUH

richie: I’m not in the picture I don’t get it

syd: let’s just keep working before carmy notices

tina: I don’t care I’m on smoke break. Who are you talking about girl? Spill the tea..

marcus: she was talking about me you guys

y/n: the guy in the back

oh i mean yeah marcus

tina: The meat delivery guy? He has a wife..

y/n: we are having an affair

marcus: no it’s about me

richie: I didn’t know Marcus and Y/n were a thing..

tina: Something ain’t right. No way they are.

marcus: we aren’t it’s just our sense of humor

y/n: i was just being funny!

tina: What did Jeff just yell inside?

syd: came out of the office and said “just cuz we’re slow doesn’t mean you can play on your phones” 👍💯

tina: Whatever. No chance Y/n meant Marcus. You got the hots for Jeffrey?

y/n: what no

tina: Well I wouldn’t blame you. He’s cute

y/n: OMG RIGHTTTTTTT

its the tattoos isn’t it

richie: You have to be fucking joking

tina: I was playing..

y/n: im confused

syd: that was cruel

marcus: who cares it’s not a big deal

y/n: so you don’t think he’s cute tina?? ☹️☹️

tina: No he is cute… for you 😝

y/n: this is humiliating

richie: I’ll tell him

y/n: NO

stop

sSTOP THATS NOT FUNNY

richie im not joking i’ll put a bomb in your floorboards

richie: I’m just fucking with you kid

tina: This isn’t over.

THE GOLDEN TRIO:

[ 3:40 PM ]

syd: y/n….

marcus: you look like a ghost y/n

y/n: i cannot believe i sent that to the wrong gc

i’m done im so done

marcus: stop looking so sad it’s making me feel bad

syd: it’s okay! just be thankful it wasn’t to the work groupchat with him in it..

marcus: true it could be worse

y/n: i guess so

thank you for trying to cover for me marcus

marcus: anytime you know i got you

syd: let’s get back to work before we start looking obvious

[aestheticaltcow]

The Social Media Manager: The Series (Part 2)

Another installment of the social media manager series

Another shout out to @thebearsoc for the inspiration!

The Moodboard/OG blurb

Part 1 Introductions and Donuts

Meetings, Meetings, Meetings

~

“Wait, wait, wait-” Richie started rubbing a hand against the back of his head, “You’re tellin’ me, Marcus’s party girl 20-somethin’ year old friend is getting access to our social media? That’s bull, and you know it, Natalie.”  

Natalie rolled her eyes and glanced in Marcus’s direction, “Marcus, Rusty has done this before, right?”  he nodded before explaining, “Nat, Richie, I’m tellin’ ya’, Rusty is really good at this shit. Just give her a shot.” 

Carmy entered the sitting area of The Bear and sat next to Natalie without saying anything, “I don’t think we can afford this, Marcus. I’m sure Rusty is a wonderful social media manager, but the budgets tight.” Natalie sighed, staring at her computer screen.

 “That's the thing- you guys have a hookup.” Marcus grinned, hoping that this would be enough of a selling point. “Rusty owes me one. She’d probably do the setup for free, and I can do all the posting. She helped me redo my account when I came back from Cophegan- I went from like 100 followers to like 1,000 in a month.” 

Carmy looked around the group before nodding in Marcus’s direction, “Call her.”

Carmy stood up and walked out of the dining area through the kitchen and into the office, where his phone had been plugged in to charge. He quickly opened his phone, went to the seldomly used Instagram app, typed in your handle, and smiled as your account came up. He’d been Instagram stalking you since he’d heard Marcus giving Syd your handle. She’d laughed about it being a reference to a K-pop group he’d never heard of; granted, he’d never really listened to any of those groups. So far, he’d learned that you have an eclectic taste in music, an affinity for putting googly eyes on potted plants, a love for fancy coffees with overpriced pastries, and had, in fact, known Marcus since high school. He liked your style. There was something free about it; he admired your creativity. Carmy took notes about you through the account. Your highlight reels being indicative of your personality, the ‘Rusty cooking??’ highlight reel was particularly traumatizing. He wondered how you’d gotten into your 20s without knowing how to actually chop an onion, but he could show you how to do it properly; just the idea of that made his heart flutter. Carmy was incredibly attracted to you, but when you’d posted a boomerang of you kissing a guy’s cheek and tagged the guy’s account with a heart emoji, he was worried this would be another unrequited crush. 

When you walked into The Bear the next day in a pair of trousers with your hair up and a pair of glasses perched on your nose, Carmy felt like his heart was going to explode. He beelined for the bathroom to make sure he didn’t have anything in his teeth and washed his hands in an attempt to get the smell of cigarettes off his hands before going to talk to you. 

“So that’s what I would recommend doing for TikTok. The algorithm is tricky, but once you get on its good side, it can be really great publicity.” Carmy swallowed as he listened to you explain your strategy to Natalie and Richie. Natalie seemed impressed, while Richie seemed wary. “This is all really great Rusty. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.” Natalie smiled as she shuffled a pile of documents into a yellow folder. You shrugged and responded with a playful laugh before explaining that work had been slow at the moment, so you had some extra free time to take a peak at the analytics you could see without access to the account details. 

After Richie and Natalie said their goodbyes, Richie was still seemingly cold toward hiring a social media manager and you in general. The two of them discussed it as they walked toward the kitchen. Carmy waited until they had walked through the kitchen door before approaching you. If he struck out with you he’d prefer not to do it within earshot of his sister and Richie; he’d never live it down. “Hey.” Carmy greeted awkwardly, rocking on his heels.

You smiled back, “Hey you. Long time no see.” Carmy blushed at your flirtatious tone. “How you doin’ Carmy? Spendin’ a lot of time on Instagram, huh?” 

Carmy needed some clarification on the comment. You noticed and giggled before explaining, “You liked a picture on my account from like two years ago.” Carmy tightly grinned out of embarrassment. He hesitantly nodded, “Uh yeah—Marcus recommended you do our social media stuff… I just wanted to check out what you post.” 

He hoped he saved himself, but self-doubt was taking over. He watched as you began twirling a strand of hair on your index finger. “It’s okay, Carmy. I think you’re cute, and I’m going out on Friday with a couple of friends… if you happen to show up at this bar across town called The White Rabbit, I might let you buy me a drink.” 

Carmy was speechless. He was by no means an experienced dater, and within that limited experience, he’d never had a girl come onto him like this. You noticed his awkwardness and found it endearing. “No pressure. You can also just call me sometime.”

 You pulled a Sharpie out of your bag and grabbed Carmy’s wrist to write your number across his forearm, “Bye, Carmy.” you winked before walking past him, making sure he’d get a whiff of your perfume. 

“B-bye Rus-sty.” Carmy managed to stutter out as he watched you walk out of the front entrance. He pushed the heel of his hand against his jaw. You were different, and it scared him, but also found it enchanting.

[donatellawritings]

cherry - around your neck - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

warning(s): language, age-gap, explicit sexual content

song: the party & the after party by the weeknd

24 hours. Twenty-four hours remained until you’d stand face-to-face with the older blue-eyed man who’d come to plague your every thought, in recent times. Twenty-four hours, so close, yet so dauntingly far. Seated directly before the mirror your worn chipped-paint coated vanity, you drank yourself in. Dressed in the thin, black mesh fabric of your nightgown, you carefully examined yourself for any outstanding flaws. The concealer that once sat comfortably under your eyes now faded and live-in, courtesy of the mentally and physically taxing classes you’d endured hours prior.

Your eyes were a bit smudged from your generous application of mascara, you’d decided your staple eyeliner wasn’t needed today. Your faded and worn brown and mauve lips adding a much needed flush to your lips as you forced a closed-mouthed smile at your reflection. Your deep-red painted acrylic nails combed through your hair, adding a smidge of volume as you tilted your head, posing in the mirror, once more. Were you desirable enough? You’d just hoped that Richie would think so.

I mean, fuck, clearly you were desirable enough if he’d asked to expect a video-call from him, so close to your first official meeting date. The palm of your right hand carefully pressed against the knuckles of your left, popping the knuckles and granting you the slightest bit of relief from your anxiety-ridden nerves. Why did he want to see you? Did he want to put an end to your tryst, before it even got a chance to begin? What did Richie Jerimovich want from you that he needed to see you at this very moment?

Opening your sticker-covered laptop, you waited. Watching the reflection of yourself, through your webcam, you adjusted the hem of your nightgown to sit comfortably against your breasts, pushing them up just a bit.

Now biting into the your acrylic-reinforced thumb nail, your foot tapped against the cold carpet of your bedroom floor. Scraping your teeth against your nail, you stared at the screen of your laptop, hopelessly.

The chime of Richie’ video call request shocked you, your posture straightening as you rushed to accept the call, exhaling a breath with a smile as the call connected, revealing sight of Richie, his eyes blown and bloodshot.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

-

Truth be told, Richie couldn’t find it himself to wait any longer. The past three days had been eating him alive, the impatience and anticipation that came with seeing you, touching you, becoming all too powerful against his already shaky sense of willpower. You were intoxicating, a way more addicting and raw being that was stronger than any of the substances he’d previously conducted dealings with. He could only come up with so many scenarios of you, in his mind to get himself off in the dark and tense hours of the night. So, he gave into temptation, gave into himself.

Richie could tell that you were nervous, shit, he shared the same sentiment, if not more. Asking to see you a day earlier than planned, out of the blue, he could only imagine the worst things that you could say to him. yet, the sight of your skin clashing against the confines of the thin mesh fabric, your breasts perked up just right, made it that much harder for Richie’s patience to take hold. He didn’t care where you two would go, or what time it was, he needed you, and sooner rather than later.

“Thank you, Richie,” you smiled softly, licking over the leftover mauve that stained your lips.

The two of you sat in silence for a beat. The sight of your chest rising and falling with a shaky breath becoming too much for Richie - he was too far gone.

“Richie is everything oka-”

“I need to you see now, I just, I can’t fuckin’ wait until tomorrow,” Richie blurted out, running his hand over his grown out bear, shaking his head with a smile.

You remained silent, biting down into the swell of your bottom lip with a short and breathy laugh.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re just makin’ it real fuckin’ hard for me, looking like that,” he continued, slightly adjusting the tie that laid around his neck, the glint of his gold chain peeking through from underneath his white button-up shirt.

Richie’s nerves began to run rampant as he aimlessly rambled, “I get it if you want to wait, you deserve to have the fanciest dinner of your fuckin’ life, but I need to see you, baby, so fuckin’ bad-”

“I don’t want to wait, either.” You spoke faintly, leaning your face to sit in the palm of your head.

Fuck. Richie was so fucked.

-

A subtle ache that hummed between your legs made its way through you. Knowing that Richie held the same virtue of desire eased your initial anxiousness, the two of you were teetering on a dangerously thin line and you both knew it.

Richie swallowed thickly, “Give me twenty minutes,” he spoke, his raspy voice now holding a heavier tone, “twenty minutes and I’m all yours.”

You shifted in your seat, tightly crossing your left leg over the other with an obedient nod, “all yours,” you repeated.

Richie abruptly ended the call, leaving you a nervous wreck as you sat in silence, the sound of the mild rain that hit your window, failing to calm your buzzing veins that struck you with adrenaline.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, debating on whether or not you should touch up your makeup, the farthest part of your subconscious telling you that you may not need to. Something about Richie’s demeanor excited you, he was domineering, yet this time he seemed feverish, almost needy?

You could barely speak yourself, lord knows how much you craved Richie, to the point where the thought of finally having him was nearly enough to bring you to your knees.

Throwing your head back, you let out a sigh, a smile laced with excitement and shock pulling at your lips as you struggled to come to terms with the fact that you were only minutes away from finally indulging in the baby blue-eyed older man. A laugh escaped your throat as you ran your fingers through your hair, before pulling your head up straight.

Standing up from the vanity, you quickly scanned your bedroom or any sign of mess. Why are you so nervous, it’s not like this is your first time being a with a guy, let alone having one at your apartment, but a 45 year old man who you met online - that was a first for you.

You made your way to the living room, turning your television on to a random channel, before heading to your kitchen cabinet, where you sifted through, until you’d found two wine glasses - did Richie even like wine? Setting the two glasses on your kitchen counter, you snatched your refrigerator door open, reaching for the cheap bottle of Moscato that you’d gotten for yourself for special occasions, like this very night.

Slamming the refrigerator door shut, you hastily reached inside of your freezing, grabbing the ice tray and cracking it, allowing a few cubes to all into each wine glass, before sliding the half-used ice tray back into the freezer. Placing the wine bottle next to beside the two ice-filled wine glasses, you took a breath.

The abrupt shrill of your ringtone broke you from your brief moment of stillness. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Coming!” You shouted, to no one in particular, your heart racing as you rushed to your bedroom.

Snatching your phone from your bed, you accepted the call, bringing your phone to your ear, “sorry, I was just fixing up some stuff,” you answered, swallowing the lump of nerves that had formed in your throat.

The sound of a car door closing could be heard on the other end of the phone, “S’okay, I’m downstairs - shit, uh, what apartment are you stayin’ at?” Richie questioned.

It took everything in you not to take a peek at him from your bedroom window, “Oh, yeah, I’m in 4E.”

“Alright, give me two minutes, sweetheart,” Richie cooed.

“Bye, Richie,” you ended the call, scanning over your appearance in the mirror of your vanity, “fuck,” you muttered under your breath.

-

Richie stood in the dimmed elevator, his leg bouncing as the elevator beeped with each passing floor. He was so close to you, he could taste it at the tip of his tongue. He kept his hands inside of the pockets of his leather jacket, exhaling sharply as the elevator door opened, allowing him to enter the Fourth Floor hallway.

“Fuckin’ aye,” he laughed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as he approached the door with ‘4E’ imprinted in gold.

Sliding his right hand out of his jacket pocket, Richie brought his knuckles to the heavy door, knocking rhythmically against it. Richie silently cursed himself out as he waited at the door, his head hung low. The sound of you unlocking the door caused Richie to straighten and broaden his shoulders.

Richie’s eyes fell on yours the moment you opened the door. That fucking dress - god, Richie couldn’t even think straight as the two of you stood in silence. His eyes drank you in, he couldn't help but want to study everything about you - you were much shorter than him, so much so, that he wanted nothing more than to have you against the wall with your legs wrapped around him. He could tell that you’d just spruced up your hair with those sleek red nails, he wondered what they’d feel like digging into his back and shoulder blades. He wanted nothing more than your lips on his, seeing the way you’d lick over them, leaving him a needy and greedy mess.

Man, you were such a fuckin’ tease. Of course, you’d decided to keep that nightgown on, Richie tried to remain a man of manners and respect, keeping his eyes trained on yours, instead of on your hand that smoothed itself against the curve of your hip.

”Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?”

-

You were completely entranced by the man who stood before you. He was tall, oh so tall, and you loved the way his oversized leather jacket clashed against his unbuttoned dress shirt and slacks. You allowed his bright baby blues to selfishly drink you in for a beat, before stepping aside, “come in,” you spoke softly.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a quick second as you shut your front door, taking a small breath before turning to face Richie, whose eyes scanned your apartment.

“You got a nice place here, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah, thank you,” you forced out a laugh as Richie’s eyes landed on yours, before motioning towards the kitchen, “would you like some wine?”

Richie shrugged off his jacket, neatly placing it on the arm of the couch as he licked at the corner of his mouth, with a nod, “Thank you, beautiful - y’need me to open it or?”

“If you don’t mind,” you accepted, your stomach turning in excitement as Richie approached you, sliding his warm hand across the side of your waist as he made his way into the kitchen.

-

Richie grabbed ahold on the wine bottle, gripping it by its neck as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, “Y’like white wine?” He questioned, pretending to be engrossed in the cheap bottle.

“Red gives me headaches,” you spoke.

“Depends on the type you get.” Richie quipped, not missing how your hand gripped the edge of the counter.

Richie was slowly drifting off into the deep end - the tension-thick air becoming too much as he stood before you, huffing out a breath as he reached over you to open the refrigerator, sliding the bottle inside, before pushing the door closed.

Now face-to-face with you, Richie keeps his eyes directly on yours, “Tell me, where’s your head at, sweetheart,” he questioned, the tips of your noses ghosting against each other as you shrugged.

“Can-can I touch you?” You asked, your voice coming out as a whisper as you lifted your head, inching your lips closer to his.

“I’m yours, I already told you that, baby.”

And Richie meant every single word.

You nodded, “then can you touch me?”

Richie nodded, bringing his hands to your waist, smoothing his hands against your skin, before lifting you onto the counter, allowing his hands to cup your face, “tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop, I fuckin’ swear I’ll stop, baby,” he spoke, his raspy voice needy and hoarse as his eyes search yours for any signs of displeasure.

-

With that, Richie’s warm lips were on yours, the kiss warm, wet, and hungry as you both moaned into it. Richie’s scent of musky cologne and faint cigarette smoke sent you into a daze, a whimper sneaking past your lips as Richie’s tongue slid against yours. The rough hair of Richie’s beard deliciously scratched at your lips as he adjusted himself, deepening the kiss even further, pushing you farther back onto the counter, any further and Richie would be climbing onto the counter himself.

A gasp left the two of you’s lips as you both caught your breath before you hooked your leg around Richie’s slim waist, pulling him in closer with a throaty moan. Richie’s calloused hand slightly tightened around your throat as he groaned into your mouth, the sensation of your nails accidentally scratching at the side of his neck becoming all too good to him.

Without breaking the kiss, Richie hiked your other leg around his waist, swiftly wrapping his free arm around you as he pulled you into his chest, carrying you over to your dining table.

Richie pulls away from you, feeling a faint pang in his chest as you pouted, “I know, baby, just lay back for me, I need to fuckin’ taste you,” he pleaded, pulling you in for one more quick kiss, before you laid back against the cold glass surface of the table.

A short gasp left your lips as your back arched, the frigid glass singing your skin through the thin mesh of your nightgown, “fuck,” you muttered.

Richie’s hands were quick to lift the hem of your nightgown, allowing the mesh to bunch up at your waist as he tapped your legs, silently beckoning you to spread them as you complied.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ pretty,” He smiled, pulling you closer to the edge of the table, before lowering his head between your thighs and pressing a wet kiss to your panty-covered pussy.

Richie presses another kiss to you, before sliding your underwear down your legs and allowing them to fall to the floor, a groan leaving his lips as he raised one of your legs to rest over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh with open-mouthed kisses before making his way back down to your aching pussy.

Pressing his tongue flat against your wetness, Richie took a long and greedy lick up your folds, repeating this a couple more times, before sticking his warm and taut tongue inside of you.

“Fuck, Richie,” you breathed out, trying to grab at the completely smooth glass surface of the table as he stuck his tongue inside of you once, more, pushing himself deeper with a moan.

Richie had you right where he wanted you. And fuck, eating you out his new favorite hobby.

Richie was disgustingly greedy with you, the mixture of your slick wetness and his saliva coating his beard as he slurped away at your pulsing clit, your hoarse moans like music to his ears as he continued to lap away at you, the hand that held your leg over his shoulder now moving towards your core.

“Keep going, please, don’t st-”

Your whines fade into a gasp as Richie slides his index finger into you, the squelch of his finger enclosed in your walls sending you into a frenzy as Richie pulls his glistening face away from between your legs. Your mouth is hung open as Richie begins to thrust his finger at an agonizingly slow pace.

Taking in the wet sound of your pussy taking in his finger, Richie leans over you, his free hand now gripping your throat as he leans his forehead against yours, “M’gonna put another one in baby, just keep - fuck, just keep those pretty fuckin’ eyes on me, okay?” Richie speaks, his voice deliciously low as you nod feverishly, your nails scratching at the table.

“I-It feels so good, Richie, fuck,” you cried, your hoarse voice struggling against Richie’s grip on your throat.

Nevertheless, you did what you were told. You kept your eyes on Richie’s as he pulled his finger out of you, quickly re-entering you with both his index fingers as he pushed them all the way inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, you’re doing so fuckin’ good, baby,” Richie moaned, watching closely as you fought to keep your eyes on his.

Richie’s fingers quickened their pace inside of you, the lewd sounds of how wet you were, coupled with the ferocity of his skilled fingers leaving Richie wanting nothing more than to make you cum.

“Richie, I-I’m gon-”

“I know, baby, I know, I got you,” Richie cooed, maintaining the quick and hard pace of his fingers as he sloppily kissed you, keeping his forehead against yours as your eyelids became dangerously heavy.

“I’m so fucking close - so fucking close,” you moaned, your vision growing hazy as Richie hummed.

“You’re so fuckin’ close, I can feel it, baby.”

Richie’s hand moved from around your throat, to cradle the back of your head, forcing your to keep your focus on him as he curved his fingers inside of you, hitting that deliciously sweet spot, over and over again, until you let out a throaty cry. Richie quickly kissed you, his finger working you through your orgasm as you cried into his mouth.

Richie slowed his fingers to a gradual stop, allowing you to ride out your orgasm against his hand as you came down from your high. Your breaths were choppy and uneven as you tried to regain your composure.

Your pupils were blown, eyes wild as Richie took in your post-orgasmic appearance, so he decided he'd test the waters, bringing his/lips to your ear, “open,” he commanded, a burst of pride sweeping inside of his chest as he watched you close your swollen lips around his fingers.

You sucked softly, your strained eyes never leaving Richie’s as you gently pulled his now dry fingers out of your compliant mouth.

Richie couldn't wait to fully have his way with you, hell, in this moment even he knew that you had him wrapped around your finger. You did so good for him.

The two of you sat in silence, after Richie carried you to your bedroom, Richie standing between your legs, leaning over you as you pecked his lips, “You can stay the night, if you want,” you offered sweetly.

-

Richie was all yours and he understood that, one-hundred percent. How could he say no to those eyes, those same eyes that soaked his in as you came to a climax, how could he say no to you?

“Y’want me to stay?” He prodded.

You smiled, kissing the pendant of his gold chain that hung in front of you, “I want you to stay.”

Richie groaned, gently grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “alright, then you got me, baby,” he agreed, pressing his lips to your forehead, softly cradling the back of your head.

You weren’t sure what this would mean for your relationship, moving forward. Hell, Richie wasn’t even sure what this meant, but he knew that he wanted you, every part of you, he’d just hoped that you wanted all of him too.

-

i hope you all enjoyed part three - now things are going to finally get fun <3

[mrscarmenbearzatto]

Ooo hiii! Can I please request a Carmy x fem!reader where he proposes to her on Valentine’s Day? Ooo and maybe this is the au where she’s his assistant, and has been for years, and the staff is heavily involved in the proposal hehe

Also Richie making some joke about how this is some promotion she’s getting lmao

hope this is okay my love! i honestly had no idea i had an au where she's an assistant lmao! i also changed it a little bit, hope that's okay ♡ - wc: 1.02k | nav post - request guidelines | cw: fem!reader, mention of reader wearing a dress

"You're not seriously proposing, are you?" Richie asks Carmen as the two prepare the Beef for it's opening. Carmen lets out a sigh as he ties his apron behind his back. "And who the hell told you?" Carmen questions in return.

"Sugar did. You proposin' or what?" Richie repeats, as Carmen rolls his eyes. "Cousin, you are not to say a word about this to anyone, okay?" He lets out a long exhale. "I am. Tonight." Carmen confirms as Richie stares at him. "Oh my gosh, you're gonna marry your assistant. If only we had an HR that could have a field day with you."

"I'm basically HR, cousin." Carmy reminds as he walks over to Marcus. "Chef, how's it going?" He asks as he rubs his hands together. "I have got our Valentine's day treats prepped, and I even have a cake prepared for when you propose to your girl." Marcus grins as Carmen rolls his eyes. "Maybe Sugar is the one I should tell to shut up." He mumbles before he walks over to his station.

"So, any big plans for tonight?" He overhears Syd ask you as you and her handle cleaning one of the other stations. "None at all. Why is everyone asking me that today?" You laugh, a sound that he can't help but smile at, as you walk over to Marcus with the clipboard he assigned to you three years ago when you began working as his assistant.

It was Sugar really who gave him the idea of getting an assistant. She told him, "you're busy. You can't handle your own schedule or meetings, so hire someone to do it for you." She was the one to pick you out from a list of candidates, and from the moment he met you, he was in love with you.

But, in usual Carmen fashion, he took forever to get with you. Convincing himself you wouldn't feel the same way, that you wouldn't even want to be with him. Until you told him first that you loved him and had been in love with him. From there you two were kind of like the Jim and Pam of the Beef, at least that's what Sydney referred to you too as.

"Hi Marcus. Oh, cute treats." You greet with a smile as you lean against the wall by his station, clipboard resting face-up against your front. "What's with that cake?" You ask, looking at the clipboard for any orders that may have been placed.

"Uh, I asked him to make it. Pete and I's anniversary is coming up and we didn't save any of our wedding cake so I asked Marcus to recreate it." Nat swoops in, smiling at you. You nod slowly. "Right.. well, congrats on your anniversary, Sug." You say before you turn and walk over to Carmen.

"Hey you. Clear your calendar because I am setting up a date night for us." Carmen says as he leans on the counter, standing in front of you. "Mm. Can I ask what we're doing on this date night or is it a total surprise?" You ask.

"Total surprise. I'll pick you up at your place." He kisses you on the cheek before walking off. You laugh before going back to your clipboard filled with Carmen's list of activites and meetings for the day. ────

You sat on your sofa, the dress you first met Carmen in on you. You figured with it being Valentine's Day, the nostalgia of the first time you met him would be nice for the date night Carmy had planned.

A small knock from the front door, and you stood from your spot and walked over to answer it. Fixing your hair as you stood in front of the door for a second, you opened it, expecting to meet Carmen's eyes. Instead, you found him on one knee in front of you, one hand behind his back.

"I was going to do this at a restaraunt. Or on the sidewalk, or literally any-fucking-where else." He admits with a breathy laugh following. "But, I couldn't wait. I couldn't imagine myself doing this anywhere else and of course it's like me to do this at your front door on your welcome mat."

"I love you. I've loved you since I met you, and each day that passes I find myself falling more and more in love with you. You're my everything, you're my moon and stars- no, you're my fucking universe." He shakes his head, tears in his eyes. "And I can't imagine a world or my life without you there. I want you and I to build a life together. To have a family with you if that's what we find ourselves wanting." He smiles. "Will you make me the happiest man, even though you already have, make me an even happier man and marry me?"

As soon as he pulls the ring out you're already saying yes, practically dragging him up off the ground so you can kiss him. He slides the ring onto your finger before kissing you again. You pull away, laughing as you place a hand on his cheek. "Carm, I love you so much- was everyone else in on this!?" You ask through a laugh.

"They were. Sugar kept telling everyone, I'm shocked no one spilled." He laughs as well, wrapping his arms around you to hug you, burying his face in your neck. "Okay, seriously no Valentine's day will ever top this." You say.

────

It doesn't shock anyone when you show up to work the next day with the ring on your finger, and the story of him proposing on your doorstep doesn't shock anyone either. "Is this her getting a promotion?" Richie asks with a grin as you roll your eyes. "If we had an HR department I swear I'd file a report against you."

"You're technically marrying the HR department." Carmen says softly as you grin. "Hell yes I am." You place a kiss on his cheek. "Hey, now as your assistant I get to schedule your wedding." You note as he smiles, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Can't wait for it."

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

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