#richie the bear

[yannaryartside]

gif by @pajamasecrets

YOUR HONOR I LOVE THEM

[woodespoon]

[ambitiouspotions]

BABY DAZE | MICHAEL BERZATTO | ONESHOT

summary — regretting the shotgun wedding, caring for a five-month-old baby, and wondering why your husband likes painkillers more than you

word count — 4.4k

warnings — addiction, angst, talk of recovery and na meetings, arguing, slightly religious connotations, drug/alcohol usage, stress from motherhood, mom guilt, mature language

author's note — i told myself not to write mikey again so soon, but look at me…also i channel some of my family (sicilian american) when i write these

“fak, come on man, you can't put together a damn crib? you gotta get me out of this hole i’m in,” mikey looked at the stray pieces of wood on the floor, screws in a pile, and neil fak’s unorganized toolbox. the instruction booklet was opened and slightly crumpled from the number of times fak had referenced the pages.

fak’s face was slightly distorted as he looked at the pieces and then back to the instructions. “man, look, i don't know what you want me to do this shit is all kinds of fucked.” the handyman simply could not understand why baby furniture had so many pieces and so many varying sizes. if it was so safe, why was the company recommending it all to be put together with a single allen wrench? there was no way he was only using that stupid allen wrench, not for baby berzatto anyway.

mikey was running his hands over his face and to his bangs that were falling, gripping the ends of his hair tightly. he had promised you the nursery furniture would be completed by the time you arrived home after work. he already had the majority of the room completed without you knowing, moving and organizing the junk he had piled into the spare bedroom as if it were a storage unit. the baby shower had only caused the room to be more cluttered, and on top of the clients, you were trying to fit in for their appointments before going on maternity leave, which meant you never had enough time in the day to organize it yourself. the stress of disorganization and ill preparation led to you biting your nails and peeling the skin away from your fingertips routinely. mikey noticed this and now had the perfect excuse to get the nursery finished and elevate your mood at the same time.

“what’d you do this time anyway?” fak questioned as he propped one board of the crib against the wall and rummaged through his varying sizes of drill bits.

mikey didn't want to admit to fak that he was unwilling to defend you in front of his mother, donna, at a family lunch when she had mumbled something along the lines of ‘your child is still a bastard.’ it was unneeded, unkind, and simply unprovoked after you had put on your nicest attitude to agree to have lunch with her and mikey in the first place.

you both already made the mistake. there was no coming back from that fuck up, so why keep dwelling on it? that was the understanding by the rest of the family anyway, but donna wouldn't ever drop it.

“fak, you fucker, i’d love to know,” mikey held the opposite end as fak skimmed the directions again to install the railing. he didn't need to be told he was in the wrong again, best to just skip that shitty conversation altogether.

“they say the first seven months of marriage are always the hardest,” fak tried to console mikey as he began using the drill. mikey was doubtful the moment fak tried to say anything about marriage, especially coming from a single man. mikey, himself, wouldn't have any pleasant advice to give anyone either because his marriage, more like hasty elopement, was only six months old with a wife who was eight months pregnant. any idiot could do the math on why this marriage was legitimized.

“seven years, the first seven years,” mikey corrected him with a groan of annoyance. “i appreciate you doing this though; my back’s been killin’ me.”

another factor of stress added to the plate, almost two years ago, would mark the anniversary of mikey slipping in the flooding bathroom of the beef so violently that he now had permanent hardware in his spine. along with the surgery came the pain and the way to manage pain—opioids. that was a sick joke. one second, he’s slipping on the tile and slamming into the porcelain commode, and the next, he was relying on drugs to get him through a stressful day.

he didn't know if his back still hurt or if he was accustomed to saying it to convince himself that it was enough of a reason to get high. that was the sad part, mikey was popping pills and you barely had any time to notice because you were always asleep before he took a little something to take the edge off. he didn't need you to have another thing to worry about, so sneakily would replace the pills he took and leave the prescription bottle in the same place. you had no reason to question him because the allergy medication you received from the walk-in clinic almost a year ago sat on that same shelf, and you never bothered to clean it out. he was covering his tracks well; why would you ever notice anyway? especially if he was so good at hiding it?

“it's no big deal, happy wife, happy life,” fak rhymed, adjusting his leveling tool against the boards before drilling them together.

the moment the tattooed handyman was able to support the crib by himself, mikey began working on the other projects to make the room more cozy.

fak made himself scarce once it was close to your arrival time. he was going to let mikey take all of your good graces on the updated nursery.

“look at that panica,” mikey greeted, affectionately rubbing your oversized belly the moment you walked through the door. his fingers slipped under your bag and dragged it off your shoulder, setting it on the counter beside him.

you eyed him skeptically wondering where his gentleness was stemming from. he had given you dull responses, impersonal kisses, and compliments, just enough to keep you quiet before you shut the door to leave. his pre-sleep painkiller always caused a morning annoyance when he awoke, but you always chalked his bad attitude up to stress rather than thinking he was abusing any type of drug. it was mikey; he had a lot on the line, stress was his middle name, annoyance ran through his veins. he was a berzatto; of course, he had to have some form of mental illness genetically passed down to him.

“what? i can't love on my two babies?” he asked, pulling you closer to place a kiss on your temple.

“what did you do?” you asked, holding each side of his face, trying to find an inkling of his true intentions. it was teasing in a way, but knew he must've had a plan up his sleeve.

“i'm so glad you asked; close those pretty eyes for me,” he chuckled. the singular lift of the corner of his mouth was always enough to make you melt.

mikey led you blindly to the spare bedroom that had been transformed into a nursery, too bad your crumby landlord wouldn't allow the wall color to be changed or mikey would've had that swatch of fern canopy behr from the local home depot on all four walls.

“alright,” he said, clasping his hands together. when you opened your eyes, you couldn't withhold the emotions that had been pent up for so long. you were staring at the crib like it was a winning lottery ticket. the sheets were made, the embroidered baby blanket natalie and pete had gifted you was draped over the edge, the bear stuffed animals were in the corner of the crib as if they were having their own meeting, and the mattress was at the perfect height for a newborn.

the changing table was assembled, and even with one of the drawers being slightly crooked, it was perfect. it was everything you wanted for your baby. it was safe, cozy, organized, and most importantly, it was something you wanted.

mikey had gone beyond your expectations. he had promised the furniture would be put together, but he gave you more than that. he gave you hope. he gave you a reason to relax. he gave you solace in knowing that although you had an unplanned pregnancy, wedding ceremony at the courthouse, and chaotic reception at the beef you could lean on him for support.

“hey, don't cry,” mikey began rubbing your lower back as you reached over the crib to caress one of the teddy bears.

“i’m sorry…this is just really beautiful,” you sniffled, taking the bear into your arms and hugging it tightly.

“would it make you feel better if i said i got you those apple pie egg rolls?” he smirked when you turned around. your gaze had softened more, more tears falling down your eyes with the most genuine type of comfort.

“you got me egg rolls?” you couldn't help but question him in the sweetest disbelief. the tone in your voice was cracking as you leaned into his chest. mikey berzatto was out of the hole he placed himself in just a few days prior.

you were in survival mode and so was mikey. it was nearing the end of your eighth week out of ten from maternity leave at the salon and mikey had barely any time off from his responsibilities at the restaurant. he was trying to split his time as much as possible, but unfortunately, an understaffed restaurant meant he had to be gone more than he liked.

everyone said once the baby arrived, your life would never slow down, and they were right. gabriel michael berzatto was a healthy, gentle, and happy baby, the one people didn't mind stopping to look at in the stroller as you walked past. he was a miniature mikey if anything with his dark hair, crooked smile, and wide nose.

“is your back hurting that bad?” the question hit his ear like a ton of bricks. “i don't think you can drink on those,” you added, picking up the paper plates from dinner.

“what?” mikey asked, pushing his beer on the coffee table that had already suffered enough of mikey's abuse from not using a coaster.

“your back,” you repeated, looking at him from the kitchen. “i didn't even know you took those things still. i thought they were expired,” that's when mikey realized what he had done. he left the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. a mistake he never thought he would make had been done. by the time you went to sleep, he was in a comfortable state of high, and you were none the wiser. then halfway through prep at the beef, he’d take another little pill, and if he was having a particularly shitty day, then again when he went for a smoke break. he seemed to have a lot of shitty days at the beef because everything was falling apart and everything always seems to go wrong. and who knows maybe the days weren’t that bad, but sometimes it just seemed like too long to wait until you were about to go to bed.

“yeah, hurtin’ pretty bad,” he lied, sitting uncomfortably in his recliner now. “opened this thing without thinkin’,” he was looking at the amber-colored glass of the freshly opened beer.

“didn’t even know you needed them anymore,” you confessed, folding the throw blanket that had been discarded on the floor when you rose from the sofa after nursing gabriel to sleep.

“sometimes, you know that permanent hardware gets pretty damn stiff when the weather changes,” he explained, wiping his hands on his boxers.

“maybe you need to go back to the orthopedist,” you suggested casually, though you were skeptical of his body language. he was tense and unrelaxed, more than he was before you voiced your concern about his well-being.

“you’re right, just need’a find the time,” he agreed, scratching his grown-out beard that seemed to become more unkempt as the days quickly turned into weeks. it was one of the many tasks that got slid to the back burner because the priorities were set on becoming accustomed to demanding needs from the newest member of the family.

“got that big bottle of arthritis tylenol from the costco if you want to take that instead,” you offered, feeling uneasy about the fact that mikey was taking painkillers, painkillers you knew were two years old, though in actuality they were bought from a regular customer at the beginning of the week when mikey went to the restaurant to “check on the gas line.”

“yeah, thanks, baby,” he nodded, clearing his throat. he could tell you weren't convinced, but at the same time, neither of you had the energy to overthink or argue.

gabriel started to cry from the other room, mikey was the first one to move. he was quick with his attentiveness to his knowing he had an easy way to escape the conversation.

“i got this one,” he mumbled, rubbing his face as he slipped past you to enter the nursery. that was the end of that for a while, though it plagued your mind frequently. you started counting the pills in the bottle and it never seemed to lessen. it hadn't become misplaced again after asking him about it. you couldn't prove that he was using unless you were going solely based on your gut instinct.

you were as guilty as mikey. mikey was blatantly lying to you and you were enabling him because you were choosing not to confront him about it. you didn't want to admit to yourself that your husband was abusing painkillers because if you did that meant that your life would already be more stressful than it already was.

it was all making sense now. irritably, mood swings, aversion, questionable decisions, not because he had gotten you knocked up, not because he had to marry you, not because the bills were stacking up, not because he said his family was bothering him, but because he was popping pills.

it was hard some days because you were still figuring out the new aspects of parenting, but a natural and oddly comforting instinct took over you. although you and mikey were able to take care of gabriel and still manage your busy schedules you had an overwhelming amount of dread and guilt hanging over your head. were you doing anything right?

you hadn't known how much weight you were pulling until tonight. five months of night feedings, pumping, juggling schedules, daycare pickups, pediatrician checkups, washing bottles, pump parts, and an excessive amount of laundry which was clean, but piled skillfully on the living room sofa, but you did it because you convinced yourself that mikey was simply too busy to take on all the tasks you were tackling. you believed you had to be the sole provider for gabriel because mikey was the business owner. he was the one that had his valuable time placed on his restaurant, so you refused to mention that you might have needed help.

it was making you have doubts about your marriage. the marriage you consented to because you thought it would make both of your lives more stable and make you more reassured that mikey was going to stick around for you and the baby. the marriage that seemed to put your parents at ease knowing they could pray for the sins of lust and greed that caused an unplanned child. the marriage that at first seemed right, but now felt like a one-sided partnership because you were being stubborn and mikey was being ignorant.

everything seemed to be going wrong tonight (gabriel was fussy the moment you tried to put him down, you wasted eight ounces of fresh breast milk because you didn't seal the bag all the way when putting it in the freezer, and you were on your third shirt change of the night) and mikey was sitting in his recliner drinking a beer. the condensation was beading off the glass bottle and dripping onto his worn spiraled notebook where he kept his business dealings for the beef contained. you were struggling and he was drinking a damn beer.

“mikey,” you finally made him look up, smudges of ink from his pen were on the underside of his hand. “take the baby please,” you said, handing off the teary-eyed baby to your husband who couldn't seem less interested. you were covered in spit-up, from your shirt to your hair because gabriel accidentally grabbed a good chunk of it when he moved his dirty hand. mikey didn't seem present though he was sitting in front of you, loosely cradling his son.

“are you high?” you didn't know why you sounded surprised when you asked that question. you had been avoiding ever talking about that night three months prior. you practically snatched gabriel out of his arms which only made mikey defensive in trying to take him back. “oh my fucking god,” you muttered taking a step back from him.

“come on, i got ‘em,” mikey flicked the condensation that was still present on his hand from the beer, he rose from his resting place on the recliner. he was trying to avoid your line of questioning.

“no, what the hell is wrong with you?” you were placing entirely too much blame on mikey because you were overwhelmed and overworked, well, had been overwhelmed and overworked for months. your anxiety and frustration were spilling over the overfilled glass it had been stuffed into.

“hey, hey,” he warned, noticing your voice had raised sharply when he went to reach for gabriel. “chill out, mammina.” wrong choice of words.

“chill out? you want me to chill out? you're the one sitting on your ass getting high when i've been running around all evening with my head cut off.” you were trying to keep your tone light after your increase in volume had spooked gabriel.

“i didn't mean it like that, dammit, hand me gabe,” he sighed, though when he went to reach for the baby again you shielded gabriel from being taken out of your arms.

“you're bein' ridiculous,” mikey scoffed, following behind you. his inebriated state was affecting his ability to understand why he wouldn’t or maybe shouldn’t be holding his infant.

“and you're high,” you retorted, walking to the bathroom. “can’t even change my shirt because—” you unskillfully managed to open the cap and dump the oxycontin onto the counter. gabriel in your arms none the wiser to the situation. you counted them four times before even looking at him. you had to be sure that you weren’t going mad because the same amount was in the pill bottle as you had counted many times before.

“mammina—”

“where are you getting them?” you interjected, tossing the empty bottle at his chest.

“mammina, give me the baby and go change your shirt,” he insisted, as if you were so easily going to give up the little boy in your arms.

“michael, i am not fucking stupid and you know that. so where the fuck are you getting them?”

“why's it matter where i'm gettin’ ‘em from?”

he had a point; you didn't quite know why it mattered. you knew he'd find a way to continue taking them like he was already doing.

there was a long moment of silence, yet it was saying more than words could. pain, hurt, frustration, uncertainty, and fear were seasoning the bottom of the cast iron pot, and a thick helping of despair was poured over the top. the back of the metal spoon that was used to stir the clusterfuck let everything mingle, and then it had to bake in the oven at 425° until that shit was burnt and stinking up the entire apartment. oh, and then you had to eat that garbage. it was inedible, but you had to choke it down because that was what was happening. you helped enable that mess, and now you, as well as mikey, had to take responsibility for it.

“how long…how fuckin’ long have you been takin’ them?” your nose was buried in the crook of gabriel's neck. your voice was barely above a whisper.

“i dunno,” he wet his upper lip with his tongue, dragging his hand over his face. he couldn't admit that to you right now. that would break you. it would break you knowing you were oblivious for years. he could tell it was already eating you alive that you didn’t confront him properly just a few months ago. you had a general time frame when you thought he started abusing painkillers, but mikey was the only man that knew when his issue truly began.

“you gotta know…” you pleaded softly. your tears were finally falling. you didn't know how they were contained before. gabriel's tiny hand was pulling at the top of your shirt to whine for his nightly feeding. you looked so vulnerable leaning against the bathroom counter, pulling down one side of your shirt and unclasping your nursing bra, allowing your son to nurse. that was life now, having someone that meant more to you than anything else because even if your husband was abusing opioids you had a son that was helpless without you. the world could be ending, but your responsibility would never be focused on anything else except your child. what were you supposed to do in this situation? keep gabriel safe before things get too out of control. that was the answer.

you didn't resent mikey or hate him. he was helpless much like gabriel. though he had unintentionally gotten himself addicted to opioids because of the exploding toilet from the beef, it wasn't his fault. he was caught in a vicious cycle that needed professional help; help you couldn't provide for him.

you couldn't do it on your own either, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. you couldn't leave him because he was the person that you could lean on when you needed him. he was the man that forced marcus to learn how to make apple pie egg rolls so he wouldn't have to keep buying them from the bakery across from the beef. he was the man that sat behind you as you labored because he knew you felt better when he had his chin on your shoulder; he talked you through the entire thing and you couldn't be upset about it because every word he said comforted you and encouraged you. you could let him lean on you when he needed you most as long as it met that gabriel was safe.

“listen to me,” your voice cracked. “i don't know what to do, but i'm going to figure it out.” you managed to loosen one of your arms from gabriel. you wiped under your eyes. a painful and staggered exhale left your lungs. “ i won't be able to do this forever if you don't try to get sober, and it's not because of me, it's because of gabriel. he doesn't deserve this.”

“i know,” mikey said, reaching his hand out to caress his son's wispy black hair. you knew he wasn't going to take him. mikey needed comfort and gabriel was an easy little one to be comforted by. he was small and innocent. he loved his parents unconditionally because he didn't know the horrors of the world. he was being cradled in the bathroom unaware of anything that had occurred. he was blissfully ignorant. he was protected because he wasn't mature enough to understand the complex emotion that was surging through the apartment.

“i know you're going to have bad days. i know that you're going to relapse, and i know that this can't be fixed in a week, but damn, you have to try or i'm going to leave with gabriel.”

mikey leaned his forehead on yours. a quiet and consoling agreement that he would try his best. he couldn't ruin this with you. he made enough stupid mistakes with you in high school. he was supposed to be apologizing for those times now when he truly cared for you. he didn't reconnect with you later in life to keep being stupid, okay—maybe forgetting the condom a couple of months before your marriage was stupid, but the point was he wants to make things right.

the rest of the night was painful. you stayed up watching mikey sleep off his latest dose on the recliner and studying gabriel's small figure on the baby monitor. tonight seemed like the night that needed some silence even if it wasn't followed with peace.

mikey had taken your consideration of being sober seriously. he knew you were never one to back down from your word, and that ultimatum made him scared. scared enough to try and get his bearings in order, leave the beef to richie before he was past the point of no return. he was going to attend the narcotics anonymous meetings you had found online because they could allow him to find more resources to aid him. he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, hell, he was living through the hardest part, wanting more—another dose—before he even got in the car with you to attend the meeting.

he didn't want to be the dad that wasn't around. he gets sober or you leave with gabriel that was the deal. he couldn't stop this alone but that was the most difficult part—admitting he needed help. he couldn't keep fighting with himself, ignoring his fatherly duties, and he couldn't keep hurting you. he knew he wasn't acting like himself and he saw it most when you gave him that sad smile where your eyes wouldn't crinkle at the edges and your cheeks would barely rise. he knew he had to make a change.

“we'll be waiting for you because we love you,” you whispered in his ear. mikey had his nose buried in the side of your cheek, withholding the tears he so badly wanted to release. mikey was holding the railing to the steps of the church so tightly. his other hand was resting on gabriel's back. he was scared to let go. he knew he had to confront what had been haunting him. it wasn't just a back injury anymore it transpired well past that. it was beyond physical pain. it was an addiction. a festering, evil addiction that constantly gnawed at his entire body.

“i love you too,” he cleared his throat harshly, knowing if he said anything else he would break down. he wanted to do better. he wanted to be better. he needed to do better for the sake of keeping everything he loved.

[blueaprondelight]

imagine richie shamelessly flirting with the new waitress at the bear as a 'joke '

he's being charming, flirting with her every chance he gets and she's oblivious to his antics but is still nice to him

after a while, the lines for richie becomes blurred and he starts to develop real feelings

so, while he's having this internal crisis, tiff drops eva at the bear and everyone's really busy, including richie

and the waitress takes care of eva & she's just so sweet to her, and when richie sees the two girls he loves having fun with each other, he knows he's far gone

(i need that old man so bad it's not even funny anymore-)

-🪷

my lotus. i'm obsessed.

okay.

richie and you had first met when you began working for the bear. being trained by him, it meant you two were spending a lot of time together. late nights, early mornings. you two would talk over coffee when you could sneak in a break during kitchen prep, you'd talk when marcus had you two try his newest pastries.

the first time he flirted with you, it was an accident. just slipped. but then it became your 'thing'. it was that teasing flirting, you know? pet names for each other, the whole shabang.

over the months you and him spend together, richie begins feeling the lines blurred. what's real and what's not between you two? it's the age old question. are you calling him honey as a joke or is that real? is his contact name 'R HONEY' to fit that joke or whatever?

he can feel himself falling in love with you. and before he can catch himself, he dives into it when he sees you and eva interacting.

tiff had rushed to the bear one afternoon when she was called into work. it was unexpected and in the middle of the lunch rush, and you'd been at the front when eva was dropped off, backpack in hand.

you guided her away from the chaos and into the back office. you and her talked about how excited she was for weekend plans with richie, what she learned in school. by the time richie found you two, you were talking her through her math homework. your voice was soft, you were patient with her.

he's in love.

by the time he realizes, he's so far gone. he knows it's the kind of love that could metaphorically kill him. you and him watch over eva together, and you help him load her into the car.

when he and eva are driving back to tiff's house, it's silent until eva's small voice speaks up. "are you in love with y/n, daddy?"

well, shit. if the kid can figure it out, maybe you have, too.

he returns to the bear where he knows you'll be, cleaning up with syd. he finds you in the front, sweeping the floors. before you can greet him, he's blurting it out. "i'm in love with you."

it's a blur. his ears are filled with the sound of his heartbeat and he knows you're talking, he can see your perfect lips moving but he can't hear you. it isn't until you're in front of him he can hear you clearly.

"i love you, too."

one of my favorite movie quotes is from the princess bride, where they say that since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were the most passionate, the most pure.

the one you and richie share buries them all in a fucking grave.

[bweeeb]

"GIRLFRIEND"

Carmen Berzatto x Reader (you)

( @softmullet : i want me some tender love from carmy 😩 ) Notes: I believe that if things had gone well in the last episode of the second season, it could easily have gone something like this, I hope this story is enough for you, and i hope u like it. Thank's for the request

Summary: When Carmen's "girlfriend" comes up at the opening of The Bear, at the end of the night they both realize something

It was family and friends night at the restaurant, the first service at The Bear, and Carmen couldn't be more anxious about it. He wanted everything to go well, to serve good service, good food, a good place, he wanted it to be perfect. You went with your friends, Melissa and Isis, to the opening of The Bear. Although Carmen was aware that you might be there, since he was the one who invited you, he hadn't thought you would actually go.

— Cousin, your girlfriend is at table 29.

Richie, who was in charge of the dining area, approached Carmen working in his station. — She's your girlfriend already, right cousin?

— She's here? Carmen asked, not stopping his food preparation.

— Damn, man, figure it out and make her your girlfriend quick. That's what Richie said before leaving the kitchen, leaving Carmen thoughtful

You and Carmen started going out frequently four months ago. Your confidence in what you did, your smile, and the unusual comfort you transmitted to Carmen made anxiety spread through his body. But for the first time, it wasn't the bad kind of anxiety—it felt good to be near you.

Sitting at table twenty-one, you smiled towards Richie, who approached the table with a bottle of wine and a smile on his lips.

— Y/n. Richie said your name as he stopped beside you before continuing; — Excuse me, girls, would you like some wine? I know it's what you like.

— Hi, Richie. You greeted him and your friends smiled.

— Yeah, I’d love that. Isis smiled at Richie following Melissa’s confirmation beside her.

— How sweet, thank you.

— Thanks. — you thanked politely as you saw him filling your glass. — Things are really good around here, dude. Carm didn't tell me it was all so fancy.

— What do you mean, cousin didn't show off with those fancy cutlery?

Richie teased Carmen, causing laughter from your lips and two mischievous smiles directed at you by your friends.

— Yeah, I don't know, I guess he didn't want to involve me in this. You said shrugging your shoulders as you took a sip of your wine.

— I think he wants to involve you in everything, Y/n Bear. He’s just not good at it... — the older man nodded and started stepping back — Now I’ll let you enjoy the night, if you need anything, I’ll be at your disposal. He said before disappearing into the dining area.

— Oh no, stay. Isis murmured watching Richie leave while biting her thumb distractedly.

— He's too old for you. You said laughing out loud and snapping Isis out of her daydreams.

— Regardless, sister. Your boyfriend’s friend is hot.

— Carmen is not my boyfriend. You huffed looking at the glass in your hand.

— Oh really, you’re still at this? You sleep at each other's houses, fuck like rabbits, and I feel like the loneliest person in the world when I see you two. What are you? Friends? No way. Melissa said rolling her eyes before laughing and drinking her wine.

— We’ve never talked about it. He didn't grow up with a good image of relationships, I don't want to force anything, sometimes he just wants a fling.

— Right, a fling of a hundred and twenty-one days. Wake up, baby, you heard the hottie, he wants to involve you in everything. Isis said sighing.

— But what if he doesn't want to... he probably didn't even want me here. You said laughing nasally, remembering Carmen’s vague mention a week ago, saying you could come if you wanted to.

— Believe me, Y/n, you have enough personality for him to want you! — Melissa smiled leaning back in the chair — I bet twenty bucks he’ll come here just to bring your dish because he’s totally in love with you.

— As if he had time, this is a restaurant and it’s full, Mel...— You said laughing again.

— I think he’ll come, I mean, would he really not? Isis shrugged drinking her wine again.

— Alright, let’s see...

Not long after, the conversation that you three had started was interrupted by the huge smile on Melissa’s face. The dishes were placed in front of you and Carmen's eyes fell on you like a magnet.

— Hi.

— Hi, everything is really good, Carm. Congrats.

— Thanks. Uhm, yeah...— Carmen said and at that moment he was grateful not to have anything special to present on your plate because you were too beautiful for him to focus on anything other than you at that table. — You look beautiful and I hope you all have a good time. Enjoy! He said stepping away from the table with a glance before disappearing back into the kitchen.

— He’s obviously busy and still came to say hi to you. Melissa smiled and groaned while throwing her head back.

— You look beautiful, that’s the compliment I’ve heard the most on all my dates and this was the first truly sincere one I’ve heard, my god. Isis said smiling while looking at you, smiling at your plate.

— hmm, yeah, he’s sweet.

— I want my money. Melissa said before starting to eat like you and Isis.

°°°

The end of the night had come, the place was less noisy, the last customers were leaving, the kitchen was starting to be cleaned and that meant Carmen was less hectic if everything had gone well.

You had left Isis and Melissa behind in the dining area with Niel and Richie while you looked for Carmen.

Passing by Sydney who was leaning on the counter, you stopped to look at her for a while.

— Hey, Syd. Are you alright? You asked and received a nod from the girl who seemed tired.

— Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just...you know...all of this was crazy and it was my first night working like this for real, so... it’s a lot. She vented and you sighed agreeing.

— I could say I understand but in reality, I don’t understand the pressure you guys have in the kitchen, but I can guarantee you did a great job, everything I ate, the service, everything was great. You said and Sydney smiled at you, understanding why Carmen liked you, it was simple.

— Thanks, Y/n. I think you should tell him that, he’s a bit worried.

— Where is he? You asked, twisting your lips.

— Office. Sydney gestured with her hands, showing you the way and with a grateful smile, you went after Carmen who was found by you sitting in the office, now Natalie’s, with his hands on his head.

— Hey, Chef. You said, standing at the office door waiting for him to let you in.

— Hi. Carmen responded, adjusting his posture and freeing his lap for you to sit on his thighs. There was the confirmation you needed.

— What’s wrong? You asked, sitting on him and wrapping your hands around his neck.

— I think I could have done better. He murmured

— You can always do better, Carmy, but what you guys did here today was great. The girls were delighted even with the damn glasses on the table. You murmured and saw Carmen close his eyes, closing his arms around your waist. — You know I wouldn’t lie to you if I had any complaints about this place, and I can assure you that things, at least out there, were great. How were they here?

Your voice was calming for Carmen who forced himself to open his eyes and look at the beautiful thing in his arms. — We should be more organized.

— Hm, things like that always happen, you guys will get the hang of it, this was the first service, my love.

And there was the nickname that made Carmen feel like a prematurely lovestruck teenager.

— I’m really happy you liked it, beautiful. Carmen murmured, bringing a hand to your left cheek.

— You. Should. Relax. — With each pause, you planted a peck on Berzatto’s lips. Once you felt him still tense.

— Why are you so perfect, fuck. Carmen whispered, sucking on your neck and pulling you in for a longer, more heated kiss. — Did you like the wine you drank? He asked, pulling your body closer to his.

— It was you who chose it. Now it makes sense. You laughed softly, playing with the curls of the man below you. — I loved it, thanks.

— I'm happy that you came, I thought you wouldn’t. Carmen admitted, which made you make a confused face.

— I almost thought you didn’t want me to come. You murmured, embarrassed, and Carmen frowned, pulling your face to look at him.

— I love when you’re near me, please, stay close. He asked with conviction in his words.

— Okay, I will.

— Listen, I-I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/n. But I want to do this right...— Carmen started and before he could finish you stopped him, agreeing.

— I love you, Carmy. You asking me to be your girlfriend or not, it’s okay, we don’t need to do this like it’s a race. You agreed softly, looking into his eyes until the mood was broken by Richie shouting from the other side of the kitchen:

— Allright, cousin, enough of the mushiness. We need to close this restaurant. The older man appeared in the doorway and looked at you two with a bored face. — Didn’t know we could have sex at work.

— Shut up. Carmen said while you got up from his lap and Richie disappeared from your sight.

— Hey, want to sleep over? I’ll finish quickly. Carmen offered and you smiled, nodding your head gently.

— Sure. You said watching him leave the office and come back in a second.

— And hey, I love you too.

---

Requests are open ✨

[pintsofguinnesmakeyoustrong]

fx the bear is very good because there's an episode where richie nearly fucking kills someone and faces manslaughter charges and its not even a major plot line or anything meanwhile the episode where they go home for christmas dinner is literally one of the most stressful episodes of television ever made

[kdogreads]

i just want richie to rail me h a r d in missionary whilst holding me hands is that too much for a girl to ask for :(

Not too much at all, nonny 🤭😍🥵

This derailed into a breeding/daddy kink…. Sorry 😳🥵

FILTHY SMUT BELOW THE CUT (minors DNI)

“Sh, sh, shh, baby girl, I know,” Richie rasps almost mockingly, “I know you can take it, baby.”

All you can muster is a whimper of a whiny “yes” nodding frantically as your eyes threaten to roll back into your head.

Richie has you pinned on your back, hands pressed up above your head with his own. The way his long, slender fingers intertwined with yours keeps you grounded as he pounds into you mercilessly.

“Good fucking girl takin’ my cock like that,” Richie growls above you, his rough pace making your drooling pussy ache, “Who makes you feel this good, baby, huh?”

You barely register the words coming out of his mouth as Richie drills his cock into you over and over again, filling your walls with the most delicious stretch.

“Richie,” You whine, your hips bucking up into his with every grinding thrust, “Please.”

The pressure builds in your core, threatening to implode and spill out all over Richie’s throbbing cock. He grinds into you impossibly deeper — His thick head reaching that spongey spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

Your veins run white hot as the blinding pleasure overtakes your senses, every nerve in your body suddenly on fire in the most mind-numbing way. A high pitched moan falls from your lips as your walls pulse erratically around Richie’s aching cock.

“Jesus, baby, fuck! Keep squeezin’ me like that baby girl, come on,” Richie growls as his punishing pace wavers for the first time. He tries desperately to keep his own orgasm at bay while he fucked you through yours and into oblivion.

As you slowly drift back to reality, you wrap your legs tightly around Richie’s hips to keep him deeply stuffed inside your drooling pussy. He groans as he realizes what you’re doing, knuckles turning white as he squeezes your hands.

“Cum in me, baby,” You whine, surprising yourself at your boldness, “Please, daddy, fill me up.”

Richie hisses something akin to “holy fuck” and explodes inside you, shooting rope after rope of his hot seed deep into your aching core.

Both of you are a sweaty, panting mess as Richie slowly pulls out of you and grants you another pleasant aftershock as his swollen tip brushes your clit.

Your sudden jump causes him to finally release your hands after what feels like forever and lean down to cradle your face. His lips can’t help but curl into a smile as he kisses you softly, pecking your lips a few times before drifting onto his side and pulling you along with him in a tight embrace.

You lay there tangled up in each other for a while, letting your heart rates slowly return to normal. Richie’s strong arms keep you snuggly pressed to his chest while he presses soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, nose; anything he can reach.

After a few minutes, you squeeze him gently and try to sit up, but Richie pulls you back to him.

“Stay just a minute, baby, s’all,” He practically begs of you, “Stay right here mama.”

You let out a soft giggle as you realize what he really wants. Happy to oblige, you roll onto your back and guide one of his hands to your tired, drooling pussy. Both of you groan as he pushes some of his hot load back inside you with two fingers.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart, you oughtta be more careful,” He props himself up on his elbow to meet your face with his, “One of these times I’m gonna put a baby in you.”

You smiled and shook your head at Richie’s silly act, knowing full well he wanted nothing more than you get you pregnant.

“Well,” You leaned up to kiss his lips sweetly, “I sure hope that’s a promise, Daddy.”

[ariisheresstuff]

Raised Voice

Pairings: Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are visiting your boyfriend while he’s at work, unfortunately for you, you didn’t know Carmy wasn’t having the best day and he ends up taking it out on you and embarrassed you in front of the whole crew.

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warnings: Yelling, cursing, and crying

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open! Have a good day! <3

“Yo cousin! Would ya stop being such a jag off for two fucking seconds?!?” Richie yelled across the kitchen to Carmen who was giving him a nasty scowl.

“Shut the fuck up Richie, I don’t have time for all your bullshit.” Carmy said with a attitude making Richie roll his eyes. Carmy ran his hand through his messy locks as he tried to take some deep breaths to calm himself down, but clearly that wasn’t working for him. Just the whole day has been shitty for him and he couldn’t figure out why. Carmen wiped the sweat from his forehead as he stormed off into his office slamming the door.

“There he goes again with one of his moods.” Sydney said as she was cleaning up her station. Richie walked passed her as he huffed.

“He’s been such a dick this whole day. Probably missing his girl or something.”

Sydney just nodded with a sigh as she continued to clean up while Richie took cover of the front of the restaurant.

You opened the door to the entrance and immediately smiled seeing Richie.

“A table for one?” You teased as Richie’s head quickly rose to the sound of your voice, he quickly smiled as he walked over to you.

“Y/N, thank the fucking lord you’re here.” Richie pulled you into a hug, you hugged him back but looked at him confused at what he meant by that.

“What do you mean?” You questioned as he lead through the kitchen to greet the others.

“Carmy is being a real jag off right now and pushing everyone down. I think he’s been having one of those days.”

You frowned at that, you really hated when Carmy was like this. It hurt you to see him so distraught. You gave Richie an apologetic smile as you apologized to everyone else.

“I’ll talk to him, I know how much of a hot head he can be. Especially when he’s like this.” You teased making Richie snort.

Richie gave you a quick “thank you” as he rubbed your shoulder, you gave him a soft smile before taking in a sigh and walking up to Carmy’s office door. You lifted your fist and hesitated with knocking. You took a deep breath before knocking.

“Who the fuck is it?” Carmy snarled back making you wince slightly.

“It’s me babe, Y/N.” You said with a soft tone trying not to anger him more. You heard him moving before the door opened swiftly. You looked up at your boyfriend who had the most nastiest frown on his face.

“Why are you here?” He said with attitude making you frown a bit.

“I came to see you, until Richie told me you weren’t having the best day. What’s wrong?” You asked as you raised a hand to cup his face. Softly stroking his cheek with your thumb to calm him down. You gasped softly as he immediately slapped your hand away.

“I don’t need to tell you every single fucking thing, okay?!? So stop pestering me all the damn time! It’s annoying as fuck and it’s keeping me down with work. Don’t bother me anymore I’m tired of your bullshit. Leave now, I’m dead ass serious Y/N. I’m tired of you!!!”

You flinched back as your eyes widened. Carmen just yelled at you. Like really yelled at you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You felt your throat tighten as fat tears clouded your vision. You didn’t even hear the others coming in asking what the hell just happened. You just stared at Carmy with the most heartbreaking face. You realized his facial expressions changed quickly from looking at the tears falling down your face. Before he could say anything, he heard Richie’s voice.

“What the fuck just happened here?!?” Richie roared as he stared at Carmen before looking at you. Tina pulled you into her arms as she shushed your cries bringing you outside with Sydney.

“Why the fuck would you yell at her cousin?!? She did nothing to you. I asked her to check on you and you yell at her? Now you’re a real jagoff for that cousin. That wasn’t cool.” Richie shook his head in disappointment. He turned away as he went outside to calm you down with the others.

Carmen just stood there as he processed what he just did. He fucking yelled at you. His girl, the love of his life. He yelled at you and made you cry.

“Fuck.” He said with a crack in his voice before punching the door in anger. “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you Carmen?!? Get your fucking shit together!” He yelled at himself as he sat back down on his chair. Running his hands through his hair in frustration. He took a few deep breaths like you taught him to calm down. He cleared his throat before standing up. He took one big deep breath and exhaling before walking to the entrance to find you.

“I-I can’t believe he j-just yelled at me.” You sobbed into Tina’s chest as she rubbed your back.

“It’s okay mama, that’s just Jeff being an asshole. I know for sure he is regretting yelling at you like that.”

You hiccuped as you turned your head to look at Richie. He shook his head as he came by you and rubbed your back with Tina.

“I’m sorry Y/N. Carmy knows better. Little asshole. He especially should not be disrespectful like that towards you. His girl. Such a fucking jagoff.”

You wiped away you tears as you gave Richie a frown. “A-all I was doing was m-making sure he was o-okay.” You said with a whimper as you felt more tears fall.

Richie and Sydney were about to say something before the door opened and everyone turned their heads to stare at Carmen. Everyone gave him a look making him look down at the ground. He especially refused to look at your broken self.

“I-I I need to talk to Y/N. Alone.” He said as he looked at Richie who gave him a frown.

Richie nodded his head to the door, signaling everyone to go inside and to give Carmen and you some private time. Tina kissed your temple making you smile a bit, Sydney squeezed your hand and gave a soft smile, and Richie patted your shoulder as he nodded at you. Everyone left leaving you and Carmen alone.

You looked down at your feet refusing to look into his eyes, you didn’t even realize Carmen walked in front of you, now closer to you. He softly cupped your face making your head lift up. You had no choice but to look into his blue eyes that had sorrow in them. You felt more tears burning in your eyes. Your lip trembling. He quickly wiped the tears falling down your cheeks.

“Baby… I’m so, so, so sorry for yelling at you like that. That was such a fucking dick move of me. I should’ve never taken my anger out on you. I was just having a bad day and I know that shouldn’t be an excuse for my behaviors towards you. I just want you to know that I really love you and that I really am sorry for yelling and embarrassing you like that in front of everyone. I will never let that happen again and I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”

You hiccuped as you tried to talk but the sobs just came out that you were holding in. Carmy quickly pulled you into his arms. Comforting you like the good boyfriend he is.

“It’s okay baby. I’m so sorry, I never wanna be the reason for your tears. I love you so fucking much. I hope you know that.” Carmy kissed your head repeatedly as you wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest.

“I’m sorry you h-had a bad day Carmy.” You whispered as your tears startled to settle down. You looked up at him as he gave you a sad smile at the tear stains you had on your cheeks. He cupped your face again as he leaned down to leave a long kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the touch.

“Don’t be sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should be sorry. You were just looking out for me and that’s what I love about you. You always makes sure I’m okay and that shows how caring you are babe. I swear I didn’t mean any of that shit. Please forgive me. Please.” Carmy whispered as he pulled your face in closer to his. Your noses touching lightly and feeling each other’s soft breaths. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you gave him a smile.

“I forgive you Carmy. But the next time you pull some shit like that again I’m gonna cut your dick off and make you eat it.” You playfully said making Carmen snort.

“I definitely don’t want that to happen. I’ll be 100% sure that I won’t pull that again on you. Never ever.” Carmen said softly with a smile as he leaned closer.

You leaned closer to feeling his lips softly touch yours. You both leaned into the kiss as you enjoyed the moment. You sighed happily while Carmen cupped your face to bring you closer to him. Completely forgetting you were outside in public.

“I love you so much Y/N, I hope you know that.” Carmen said between your lips

You giggled, “And I love you more Carmy. I always will love you.”

At that you two began to kiss more passionately. You two didn’t even notice that the crew was watching you guys the whole time through the window smiling.

“There they go sucking faces again. Jesus fucking christ! They always go at it.” Richie said as he faked gagged.

Tina smacked Richie on his arm giving him a stern look “You’re just mad because you don’t have what they have.”

“Damn!!!! Richie you just got burned!” Marcus said while Sydney and him started to cackle in the back.

Richie gave Tina an offended look making Tina chuckle.

“Man, fuck you guys!” Richie flipped them off as he pouted while they continued to laugh at him.

They didn’t even notice the two of you walking back into the restaurant hand in hand. They turned to look at the two of you.

“So, y’all made up?” Sydney said with her arms crossed.

“Yup all good, told him to never pull that shit again or I’m cutting his dick off.”

Richie choked on his soda that he was drinking before laughing out the soda. Carmen just rolled his eyes as Richie began to tease him. As long as the two of you were okay, he was okay.

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

[sageispunk]

thinking about how richie finds out ur a squirter....

warnings: 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv intercourse, mention of foreplay, richie likes when reader is loud and verbal, he's a damn tease, missionary, mention of overstimulation, begging, outercourse, Big D*ck Richard Jerimovich, mention of pubes, slight pain kink (scratching, pulling hair mentioned), praise praise praise, no specific age/gender/race mentioned, breeding kink, dirty talk, he talks u through it, mention of cumplay, just smth i wrote at 2am last night off the joint/penjamin combo ;)

he's fucking you sooooo good in missionary, tall body over you, almost cradling your body as he thrusts in and out and in and out

you've been dripping since y'all started (an hour ago--the man loves foreplay), but you can hear it now, the squishing and the squelching of him sliding in and out of your warmth, it's his own personal slice of heaven

he loves it, hearing everything-- your moans and breaths, your wetness, the slight creak of the bed as he fucks you into complete oblivion

you can barely talk, the only words exiting your mouth a combination of his name and unfinished curses

"richieee..." you crane your neck down, wanting to get a look at where your bodies met

"hmm?" he doesn't smirk but you can tell by the look in his eyes that he's proud of the way he has you, so fucking wet and needy, in his bed, on his sheets, so goddamn beautiful all spread out for him

wanting to see you fall apart just a little more, he thrusts into you one good time before pulling out, blushing at the whiny moans that immediately spill from your mouth

his hands are on your hips for a quick second before he pulls your body closer to him, leaving you more flat against the mattress

his hands travel to the backs of your knees, pushing them forward till you're folded in half underneath his slim build

the new angle gives you a better view of your glistening cunt, slightly swollen and throbbing with need and the next thing you know, both of you are watching in a silent haze as richie drags his throbbing cock up and down your folds

"please, richie, pleaseee..."

your eyes remain on his cock between your lips, the tip nudging your clit every time he moves his hips, teasing you nearly to death

"what's that, baby?"

you cry out as he taps your clit with his cock, your body jerking under him from the overstimulation

"fuuuuck, pleaseee..."

"what do you need, baby? hmm?"

his forehead is on yours, bright blue eyes shining down on you as the two of you hold that eye contact, his cock still resting on top of your clit, twitching ever so slightly

the only thing you can focus on at this point is his face, so close, right in front of yours-- his scruffy beard that you loved to feel against your face (and your thighs), his big, sharp nose that you loved feeling when he nuzzled into your neck at night, that furrow in his eyebrows that he always made when concentrating really hard on a sports game or a new recipe

and then finally his lips, when the magic words fall from them and into your ever-so inviting ears

"c'mon baby, let me hear you, i need to hear you say it.."

you don't want to hold back anymore, not with those big, blue puppy eyes staring down into your soul, so let it all spill from your lips

"please fuck me, richie, i need you, please, PLEASE, i need it, i want to feel you.."

his eyes flutter shut when he hears, and you could feel the way his cock twitches on you one second before he pulls his hips back, thrusting forward and sliding deeply inside of your cunt

"fuc-" your words are cut off as you find yourself overwhelmed with ecstasy at this new position

richie is in you, deeper than ever, you swear that you can feel him in your belly

he's pushing all your buttons, places you'd never even reached before, all whilst keeping his forehead on yours, eyes trained on your face for signs of what makes you feel good

one of your favorites, he notices, is when he rolls his hips slowly as he thrusts inside, his tip kissing a spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head, while his curly pubes rub against your clit, creating the most torturing yet delicious friction you've experienced, ever

so he does that, over and over and over until you are gripping onto his shoulders, eyes watery and voice shaking, as you beg and beg, for what? who knows

his hips slam into yours, harder and harder as you feel yourself creeping up to your peak, your toes curling beside his head, and your fingernails digging into his shoulders

the pain was something both of you enjoyed, you loved to give a little pain to show how good your partner made you feel, and richie loved to recieve your scratches and your tugs at his hair because it showed him that he was doing his job and he was doing it damn well

your body tensed the closer you got, including your eyes, which clamped shut as you anticipated your upcoming eruption

he could tell it wasn't helping, you were focusing too hard on when it would hit you, that you just prolonged it even further

with two hands on your cheeks, he whispers above you-- "baby...fuck, baby, look at me, let me help you.."

although his pace doesn't let up, you allow your eyes to open up again, focusing in on the sight above you, your beautiful man staring down at you as he fucks your pussy like his life depends on it

"there y'go, mama, keep those pretty eyes on me, okay?"

you nod, using every bit of strength to keep your eyes open and focused on his as his cock slides in and out of your pussy, your muscles tightening around him, bringing him right up to that edge with you

"so fucking beautiful, baby, i swear t'god... if i could have you like this all day, every fuckin' day, i would... i would never leave this goddamn bed again.."

your pussy clenches around him at those words, and he hisses, teeth slightly bared as he tries to hold back his own release, wanting you to reach yours first

"cum for me, baby, you're so close, i can feel it, soooo fuckin' tight, it's like this pussy was made just f'me..."

a blinding white light hits your eyelids as your body begins to tremble underneath richie, your ears barely registering his words of encouragement for you

something you did recognize was a new feeling of warmth spilling down your inner thighs, down your folds, soaking the sheets below you

"oh, shit.." richie's eyes were no longer focused on your face, now they trained themselves on your cunt and how it gushed out again and again around his cock, pulsating as you came, hard

just a few moments later, richie empties himself deep inside you, filling you up with his warm seed, cock twitching with each spurt

"goddamn it, jesus.." his eyes close as he slows down, not wanting you to overstimulate either of you too much

you're still in another world, only slightly coming down from the high that richie and his cock supplied you mere minutes ago

richie stays inside you, laying kisses on your forehead, cheeks, jaw and lips as you stir back to consciousness

when your eyes open again, he's running his fingers along your scalp, nails lightly scratching and soothing you, like he always does

"when were you gonna tell me you're a squirter, huh?" a smirk graces his face this time and you grin in response, watching him sit back and pull out of your pussy, waiting for the moment that his cum begins to drip out of you (only for him to fuck it back inside with his long, skilled fingers)

[shamelessly-obsessed]

God I love this show and I’m having sm silly fun with digital art lately

IM SHITTING MYSELF OMG

I LOVE HIM SM IM LITERALLY GONNA CRY

[yannaryartside]

Do you guys think this is the caller id for Syd in Richie’s phone?

Cause I see it

[berzatoe]

I Can See You

Warnings: swearing, smoking, smut, fingering, oral (M receiving), p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, spanking, dom!carmy, sub!reader, lots of dirty talk, Carmy is mean.

Pairings: Carmen Berzatto x F!reader

Synopsis: reader is a new hire at the bear set to replace sydney while she goes abroad, and she and carmen do not get along. On a particularly stressful night, they find a great way to sort out their differences.

Authors note: okay I was listening to Taylor’s song “I can see you” and this came to mind so here. There’s not enough Carmy smut out there so I am contributing. ALSO ACCEPTING REQUEST RN SO PLEASE SEND!!!

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

—————————

The clock was ticking. A few minutes to open and so far, everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong.

When you agreed to fill in as Sous for sydney while she went abroad to study in Copenhagen, you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.

Night after night, you had anxiety levels in that kitchen similar to those of someone being hunted by wild animals.

That’s why they call it the bear— the thought occurred to you the first rush you worked. Richie and Carmen had almost killed each other, Tina nearly walked out, you were down an oven and the damn fridge was broken. It felt like you were running for your life as you tried to gain control of that kitchen.

“Chef, I said hands.” His firm voice cut through your thoughts.

“Yes, chef.” you followed his voice and took his place mixing as he began chopping vegetables. His biceps flexed with the heavy rhythm of the knife coming down against the board, veins swelling with tension, knuckles growing white.

He was another problem. He was the essence of the bear. You two butted heads like no other. Ever since sydney hired you to take her place for her leave, he’d been at your throat, hungry for your blood.

You were an ingenue of sorts at a prestigious chef school, and went on to work in one of his competing restaurants in New York at a very young age. You had come in with confidence of your abilities, and had different ways of doing things than Carmy. He couldn’t quite accept it, and you knew he didn’t respect you just yet.

But you craved his approval, for some reason. Something about Carmy made you thirst for his praise. You were constantly showing him new dishes you wanted on the menu to only be turned down. You two would easily get in screaming matches over wether to dice or mince, which spices to add, how long to cook, until you were out of breath and both needed a smoke break.

It didn’t help that he was so goddamn handsome. Watching him work, watching him be impassioned by his work, in command of his staff, it set something off in you. Even when he was screaming at you, there would be a glint in his eye, a vein popping in his neck, or a tone he took that would have you clenching your thighs together.

Now, you stood next to him staring at his strong arms and hands cutting vegetables, falling apart because you’re so stressed and all you can think about is those hands around your throat.

“Chef! What the hell!!” carmy shouted

You’d somehow poured the entire stock pot of sauce all over the oven.

You were stood there just staring at it emptily, trying to understand how it had happened.

“What were you thinking?!” Carmy yelled again.

“I can make more! I’ll get right on it, Chef.”

“We are fucking opening in exactly one minute, chef, we needed that sauce. We NEEDED THAT FUCKING SAUCE.”

“It was only half of the batch, the other one is still there.” You pointed toward the other pot, still heating. Then Carmen let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose as your eyes widened.

The second timer for it immediately went off, meaning it had reset. The alarm rang through the kitchen like a death siren. The sauce was cooking for twice as long as it was supposed to.

“Yup, looks like you burnt that sauce. Congratu-fucking-lations. We can’t open. Are you incompetent chef? Are you stupid?”

The words hurt. “I was going to take care of that sauce before you called for hands!”

“This is the 5th thing you’ve fucked up this morning. You’re ruining my open.”

“If you ever listened to me, I swear I have a more efficient way to do this where we don’t need to call hands and everybody has a set job—“

“This isn’t your restaurant, chef.” He cut you off with a cold stare to match his words, eyes piercing into your soul.

You huffed and spun around, scared if you stayed everyone would see you cry. You ran to the back, out the door, and sat against the brick wall of the alleyway. You rolled your head into your hands, trying to collect yourself.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Richie’s voice rung out. He stood leant up against the fence, smoking.

“Oh god,” you sniffed, looking up and quickly wiping tears away. You didn’t answer, instead, you reached out your hand, silently asking for a smoke.

Richie obliged and continued, “you know, Carmy is really hard on you, huh?”

You stayed quiet, taking a long drag and looking off to the city as you exhaled.

“He has a really hard time with people. He’s not like me. And I think he’s really threatened by you, cuz you’re so good. He had to be a control freak and work for it, but you’re just good.”

You pondered this for a moment, “you really think that?”

“Uh, yeah sweetheart. You’re a natural. He has to at least believe he’s in control or else he’d go apeshit. Also, I think he sort of has a thing for you, so it affects his focus… or whatever…”

You paused. You never thought of the possibility that it could be mutual. That he’d lose focus looking at you the way you so often did with him. But he had just been such an asshole, and you were angry, and god, you wanted to make him pay.

“Richie, I don’t think that could be true. He doesn’t like me. He’s so mean to me.”

Richie just chuckled and then put the cigarette the two of you had been sharing out.

“I know the kid. Get back in there, make him think he’s in charge, and do your thing, little miss sunshine.” Richie smiled and squeezed your shoulders. That was his nickname for you, because of your general sunny disposition. It had changed the place a lot.

The rest of your shift until close, you did what Richie suggested. You made Carmen think he was in charge. You followed orders with a smile and a “yes, chef”, you trailed after him and cleaned up his messes without him noticing, and soon enough the two of you were doing a successful close, allowing the rest of the staff to go home early.

Through the night, you’d also found a way to combat how distracted Carmy could make you. Richie’s intel had allowed you to flip the tables on him. Instead of focusing on how worked up he got you, you started focusing on how worked up you could get him.

You’d always stare at him for just a second too long after saying “yes, chef”, you’d squeeze pass him, intentionally pushing your body close to his. You’d find opportunities to bend over in front of him, stretch out, let your hand linger on his too long when he handed you something. Anything to be close, any chance you got. You were doing your best to see if what Richie had said held any truth to it.

You’d almost given up, you thought for sure something would happen, but the two of you had wrapped things up and were turning down the lights in the restaurant as you got ready to leave.

Carmy had been suspiciously quiet since everyone went home and you were beginning to feel awkward in the silence.

You were standing in front of your locker, grabbing your bag, when Carmy turned around and said, “Wanna tell me what the fuck was up with you tonight?”

You swallowed and turned around to face him, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He took a step closer to you, “I think you do.”

He walked the small distance between your lockers until he was flush against you. He leaned forward until you were cheek to cheek, his lips to your ear as he whispered, “you think you could ruin my open, then tease me like a desperate little whore the whole fucking shift, and get away with it?”

His words went straight to your pussy. Your heart was beating faster than it had ever before, here you were; finally caught by the wild beast hunting you down. He’d fallen for your bait. You smirked.

He lifted his head from your neck where he was planting kisses, seeing the grin on your face. He gripped your jaw with a firm hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Oh, you’re proud of yourself, hmm?” His hand trailed down and came to rest at your collar bones. You moaned in response.

He knew what you wanted. His hand closed around your neck and you smiled again.

Carmen closed his lips around yours. It was unexpected, and even though his hand was rough against your neck, the kiss was slow and gentle. It felt almost nervous, hesitant maybe, and that just made you even more desperate for him. You let out a whimper, begging him to give your more, and his tongue licked into your mouth as his other hand came up to squeeze your breast.

After that he went feral. Pushing up against you, clutching onto your throat, licking roughly and desperately into your mouth, grinding his hard cock against your heat.

He came back up for air, staring at you for a moment, searching your eyes for any regret, hesitancy, anything but what he found; which was pure, eager, lust.

He trailed kisses down your neck and chest and latched onto your nipple as he quickly began pushing down your pants. His calloused hands slowly began teasing the soft delicate skin of your thighs, rubbing soft circles so close to your core.

You whined, and in response he let out a light teasing chuckle as he pushed his hand pass your folds, immediately landing his thumb right against your clit.

Your body convulsed at this, and he loved it. He studied your face, looking for every reaction and using them as cues as he began circling his thumb against your clit.

“Yeah?” He breathed, clearly enjoying it too, “is this what you wanted? Hmm? You’re so fucking wet for me. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you wanted me to touch you?”

Any nervousness you had detected in Carmy before was long gone. He was in control. You were letting him be in control, again, and he was about to ravish you for it.

“Answer me.” His thumb stopped and he tightened his grip around your neck.

“I’ve wanted you since-“ he began rubbing your clit again.

“Since- my first shift- I-“ his ring finger poked at your entrance.

“I-I can never stop thinking about you and-“ his finger fully entered you now and you instantly clenched around it.

“And- I always fantasize about you fucking me which is why i can’t do any of my work right!” You spit out quickly as his finger began pushing in and out of you. At this, he curled it up to meet your spongey spot deep within and you let out a yelp.

“Oh poor baby” he said as he slowed his movements, adding another finger and thrusting them in and out at a torturous pace. Your back was still pressed up against the lockers and the sting of the metal carving into your skin heightened all of your sensations.

“Stupid little slut can’t do her job because she wants to fuck her boss so bad, is that it?” He thrusts his finger into you hard.

“Please” you begged.

“Please what? What do you want?”

“Go faster, I’m so close!”

He instantly removed his fingers from your and you felt the emptiness like a hole.

You went to complain before he clamped a hand around your mouth, “Don’t say a thing. You’re lucky I even gave you my fingers after the shit you pulled tonight, baby. You think you can tell me what to do? You think that’s how this is gonna work? I would just let you cum and then give you my cock and make you cum again?” He laughed.

His eyes were dark and full of want, his cock was hard and it was so painfully evident through his pants. It looked so big and you couldn’t get your mind off of it.

He noticed you staring and began undoing his belt. “Get on your knees.”

You gulped and froze.

He put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you were kneeling, “I said, get. On. Your. Knees.”

He finished undoing his pants and you were face to face with his long, hard, thick cock.

“Be a good girl and suck it, baby” he said. You started towards him before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you back.

“What do you say when I ask you to do something, darling?” His tone was condescending, but you answered nonetheless.

“Yes, chef.”

He groaned and rolled his head back, “yeah, that’s right, good fuckin’ girl” pushing your head back towards his cock as an invitation. You accepted.

You were brutal with your movements, sucking and licking and pushing him as deep as you could get him. He was anything but shy with letting you know how much he enjoyed it, his grip tightening around your hair and pulling and pushing ever so slightly, his hips unintentionally bucking up, forcing his cock down the back of your throat.

And the sounds he was making, oh, they could only be from your dreams. He was unraveling at the seams and whimpering like a dog when you reached your hand up to cup his balls and lightly massage them, he pushed your head so far down you couldn’t breathe.

“Oh my fucking go-d” he said before pulling you off him with a “pop” and staring at your fucked-out face.

Blown out eyes stared back up at him, saliva coating swollen lips, mascara smudged and running, hair a mess. He was proud of himself, and the sight turned him on to no end. He knew if he let you continue he’d cum. However, you were relentless and as soon as he let up on your hair, you dove back down.

“Okay baby, that’s enough.” He said, tearing you away again.

“Why?” You asked genuinely, and it made his heart flutter.

“Cuz if you don’t stop, you’re gonna make m’cum. Can’t do that yet. Wanna do it deep, deep inside ya’… if that’s okay?” He whispered gently, cupping your face and wiping your cheeks.

“Please, god please.” You cried, nodding your head. He grabbed your hand and helped you up, leading you to his office.

There, carmy turned you around and placed, gentle, sweet kisses along your shoulder before whispering, “are you sure this is okay?”

To which, you nodded desperately. But that wasn’t enough for him.

“I need you to say it, honey. I need you to say that you want this. That you want me to fuck you right here on this desk, and fill you up with my cum.”

“I want you Carmy, I want you so bad.”

“Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me on this desk and fill me up with your cum.” You whined, slightly embarrassed, pussy swollen and begging to be fucked.

He pushed you down until you were bending over the desk, chest flush against it. He got a good look at how much you truly wanted him.

“Jesus Christ, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen” he said, roughly spreading you.

“So fucking wet and tight too, could feel you squeezing my fingers earlier.” He spit into his hand and cupped your pussy with it, rubbing the spit down and over your folds.

You felt the tip of his cock tease your hole, slowly making little circles, just barely entering. At this point, you were so ready for him this actually felt mean. You needed relief and he knew it, he saw it, saw your clit throbbing and your legs shaking, body blushing all over. You beginning to make a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before.

He starts to softly comfort you but you know he’s proud of himself, with a smirk on his face as he does it, “ssshhh-sshhh… it’s okay, baby. I know, I know, it’s a lot. I just wanna make sure I don’t hurt you so I’m gonna start real slow, okay? Know you need me. Gonna take good care of you, promise” he slowly starts to inch himself in, and you have to admit, his size surprised you. You were glad for his patience.

When he finally burrows himself all the way within you, you both let out a moan in-sync at the new feeling. Both taking a second to adjust, you tighten and release your walls, making him groan.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” He says between thrusts as he begins, setting a good pace.

Once Carmen is finally fucking you, finally moving within you, taking you raw, you feel free. You let go of all the stress from the restaurant and let him drill it out of you, and you’re sure you’re serving the same purpose for him.

“S’good… so fucking good…” carmen is saying as he fucks you, pace picking up, getting more rough by the second. The praise makes you melt, you squeeze him again and revel in the loud moan you get out of it.

He grabs another fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, making your back arch and the position hit so much deeper. He leans over your body and reaches down to rub your clit with the hand not on your head. It makes you tremble under him.

“Doing s’well for me baby… knew this was all you wanted…. All I could ever think about too… taking you back here… fucking you hard and good just to shut you up… emptying my load deep inside you… leaving you to work the rest of your shift all filled up with me… you’ve been such a little tease every day since you got here… giving me those looks across the kitchen, wearing those little outfits in on your days off, pushing my buttons just to get a rise out of me… I’ve wanted this for so long, pretty baby. You’re so fucking pretty”

You cry out at his drunken confession. It gets you so worked up, you’re almost there, and you can tell he is too.

“Carmy…” you whine, feeling him so deep, hitting that spot every single time without pause, working you up and up and up.

“Yes, baby?”

“Cum inside of me, please. I want it all. Want you to fill me up. M’sclose too. Please please please, fill me up Carmy.” You’re practically in tears and it does something to Carmy. He hears you.

He quickens his pace, getting sloppier, rougher, more sporadic, the two of you making noises like animals, and soon he takes a hand and slaps it down across your ass, causing a loud thwack, as you scream in euphoria. He does it one more time, hard enough to leave a welt, before spilling his seed deep, deep inside of your pussy.

As he pumps his seed into you, again and again, you feel that coil come undone and are seeing stars before you know it, panting and moaning and sweating as Carmy holds you in his arms and snaps his hips back into you occasionally.

He’s collapsed over you on the desk, the two of you exhausted and decompressing. He places a few kisses against your cheek before standing up and pulling himself out, groaning again at the sight. He sees your welted ass, pussy red and swollen, knees shaking, body rising up and down from being out of breath and he instinctively pulls your dead weight into his office chair and runs to get you a water.

You decide that you and Carmy have found an incredible, healthy way to work out your differences in the kitchen.

[ambitiouspotions]

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS | CARMEN BERZATTO | ONESHOT

summary — carmy is finally home for the holidays and you, his childhood friend, are invited to the berzatto christmas dinner

word count — 10.2k

warnings — angst, mentions of addiction, family chaos, written and added to season 2 episode 6 so like you know strap in (of course all credit to the wonderful creators, writers, producers, and directors for the fuckery of the episode they created)

author’s note — yeah, anyways have fun! also going by the basis that carmen is at least 15 years younger than mikey!

“hold on, stall for me, i heard them saying my name,” carmen requested, pausing your conversation to make his way to the front door to ask his older siblings why they called upon him. you tilted your head, not being able to even deny his request before he went outside. you pulled at the sleeve of your knitted green sweater, only letting the headache-inducing arguing mixed with a symphony of christmas music filter through your ears.

you roamed the trays of cheese and crackers as he was away, the fak brothers yammering in your ear about a potential business reselling baseball cards on ebay.

“apparently, i’ve been placed on mom duty,” he muttered as he came back to join your side. he smelled faintly of cigarette smoke when he returned. who could blame him? 74% of the american population were also in agreement that the christmas holidays were the most stressful time of year.

the rest of the berzatto family was staggering through the den, quick quips flying from their mouths as they interacted with each other. lee was trying to pass off a bright red, piping hot dutch oven to everyone he walked past, finally settling on sugar to bring the dish to the kitchen. you felt bad for her. she already confided in you the moment she saw you. she was so nervous about ruining christmas because of her impulsive tendency to ask her mother if she was okay. it was a surprise for her to see carmen again after he had been in copenhagen, but an even bigger surprise when she learned carmen was bringing you to a family dinner.

you, peach, well that’s what mikey had deemed you after a particularly embarrassing accident in the neighborhood. the nickname stuck over the years, and now the entire berzatto family was keen on calling you peach rather than your actual name. you were caught in the middle of this entire night, avoiding your own family for personal reasons, and already regretting saying you’d be there for carmen. you had enough of the berzatto stress working for mikey at the beef. none of that was ever mentioned to carmen. the past nine months, in between your college courses, you were bagging sandwiches and helping the patrons of the beef while listening to richie and mikey’s bullshit.

you didn’t expect carmen to call so late at night. you had gotten a few random, nondescript texts from him over the months he had been away, but never expected his next time to contact you would be over the phone asking you to join him for christmas dinner with his family. so, there you stood, trying to make conversation and witty banter with the friends and close relatives of the berzatto family because carmen was so terrible at socializing. they were all happy to see you in some weird way, like a blast from the past, the nostalgia of “peach and bear.”

carmen was in the kitchen, but he wouldn’t allow you to step a foot into the war zone of a thousand unlabeled timers, splatters of sauce, overfilled oven, cluttered stove, drunken and mentally ill donna, and the unprepared seven fucking fishes. it was loud enough to overhear donna barking orders to an already panicked carmen. jimmy was brave enough to walk in to get olives for his cocktail, spouting promises to keep his hands to himself. though he had extra courage taunting donna about what they were going to have for dessert, lucky for him, she had taken his teasing calmly.

the kitchen was heating up as more people went in and out. you didn’t dare. the faks, donna yelling for mikey, and sugar.

ugh, why natalie?

why did she have to leave you and enter the trenches?

“ma, are you good?” sugar questioned, her voice rising over the kitchen timers, fak brothers, and donna. “ma?”

no, come on nat, no. you told me that you wouldn’t do that.

“yeah, yeah, we’re good.” carmen insisted. his next move was to attempt to direct his sister to the garage for more paper towels. he was already doing well guiding donna’s attention away from natalie.

you had only zoned out for a second when michelle and steven were asking about your college career. your head whipped, excusing yourself quickly from the new york-dwelling cousins.

“okay, this is why, this is why i didn’t want to come home.” carmen’s voice rang through your ears, his annoyed stutter making his older brother and mother begin to argue over his impoliteness on christmas.

you stood on the outside edge of the entrance of the kitchen, playing with the ring on your index finger as another timer shrieked through the kitchen. you wanted to step in, but everything seemed to be moving so quickly. they were being so condescending, leaving carmen to stand up for himself. mikey had a full mouth of food urging his younger brother to say three simple words. carmen’s unamused face said it all as donna egged him on as well.

carmen clearly gave in to the taunting because his next words were “i love you.” his tone said it all. he was becoming very agitated. his mother wrapped him in a hug, glancing in your direction.

mikey placing a quick and vexing kiss on the side of carmen’s head muttered “so happy the bear's home,”

“happy, happy to see you too, peach,” donna added, now averting her attention to the grossly jammed stove.

“yeah, you too, see dee,” you emphasized, blowing her a kiss as her hands covered in batter hovered above carmen’s shirt collar as she held him in her arms for a moment longer.

donna and mikey cared for carmen, but they didn't understand him. though, you didn't quite understand carmen either. he was always trying to prove to his family that he was the best, but being the best now meant that he was too “fancy” for them. you wished he could stay away from the overbearing chaos his family brought, but apparently, it was better for him to only come home once a year to stay in their good graces.

now, donna was trying to gain carmen’s attention, but little to her knowledge carmen was paying attention to her. he was trained to continuously be moving in a busy kitchen, but donna saw that as a sign of disrespect and avoidance. she forgot her train of thought, though carmen who had been paying attention, got his inebriated mother back on task to explain freeing an oven spot for another dish. donna’s orders, although scattered and frantic were being heard by carmen. he wasn’t going to let this be another year of disaster.

you were glad he could understand donna because even after years of knowing the berzattos, donna was a character that you never quite understood. after all, no one ever bothered to discuss her deep-rooted issues. you had the liberty of learning of her crazy antics on your own accord after overhearing stories and occasionally witnessing smaller bouts of her rage. donna’s illness was unspoken, but maybe that was for the best. she clearly didn't want to be helped or think she needed help.

the pregnant tiff entered; she was always nice, but even with the upset her baby was causing her she seemed in better spirits than anyone. she could have an escape away from family and friends while she pukes her guts into the toilet. donna was determined for carmen to understand that tiffany was not okay. she had thrown up! she needed to be cared for!

tiffany wasn't helpless, but it made donna feel better about herself to worry for someone else other than herself, for once. maybe donna just wanted to seem like she cared and truly didn't? you never knew where to place her.

the timer again! donna was questioning her own directions as she tried to remember what dish she needed to tend to. carmen had remembered because, through his conversation with tiff, he managed to make his way to the stovetop. richie had blocked carmen, setting him back for a few moments. he was quickly back on track. natalie had come back with the paper towels, and your eyes were set on her. you saw her gaze at the open bottles of liquor. you blocked the view of her as she poured the toxic brews down the sink. hopefully, with less liquid courage, donna would settle down.

the entire time as you blocked the wandering eyes in the kitchen from natalie’s liquor-guzzling drain your mind was fixated on carmen’s precise movements. he never seemed to waste any time.

“my timers are going off!” donna exclaimed to carmen, as if her disorganization was her son’s issue. carmen stood up for himself again as he finished tending to donna’s mess to make tiffany, who was already making her way to the bedroom to lie down, a sprite.

carmen was facing ridicule again. he was a chef, having staged in a very elite restaurant, and they were surprised that he could make fucking sprite. did they think he wasted years of his life to be mediocre? none of them knew that he had the terrible and compulsive need to be better than the environment he was raised in. you felt that since carmen was on donna duty, you had to be on carmen duty. you were invited to family dinner, but you extended your invitation to your remaining brain cells that were urging you to protect carmen from the wrath of his family.

you never understood carmen’s perspective. you had begged carmen multiple times to get away from the shitshow the berzattos produced, but he never listened. he always came circling back each year and looked to you for an answer as to why his anxiety was so terrible. maybe it was the universe’s way of a practical joke. you were avoiding your own family and now had to deal with carmen’s family.

you folded your hands in front of you as you faced richie and donna. “you have to give him some credit for working at noma.” your comment was overlooked the moment natalie started questioning her mother’s wellbeing. carmen heard this, giving you a quick glance.

sugar, why? leave donna the fuck alone. i know you are trying to help, but fuck off, sug.

“nat, she’s fine,” you squeaked out as donna pulled natalie closer. she took it better than expected, but as richie started asking about the tradition of the seven fishes, you could’ve sworn donna was being interrogated. her exaggerated body movements and the close proximity to richie’s face were enough to make you stand on edge as carmen began muddling the limes and lemons for his homemade pop.

let it be, rich. let her have her stupid traditions and let it be!

lee chimed in ready to explain the biblical part to richie’s question, though adding more than necessary.

“...makin’ people feel like shit, holding everything in and then letting it out inappropriately, raging, pouting, screaming, making scenes. you know all the italian classics?” lee chattered on and on, hinting obviously towards donna’s behavior. she didn’t notice, but if she did she paid him no mind.

donna stood in the middle of everyone’s conversations, watching lee and richie steal a bite of food as another timer rang, carmen adjusting the “proscuit” and the “mortadel” by order of his mother, and richie now taking the glass of sprite.

carmen slid over to you, offering a tasting spoon of some concoction from the stove when he had a moment.

“why is no one listening to me?”

here we go.

you were bracing for impact as donna, richie, and carmen tried to figure out why her temperament wasn’t as mellow as it had been just a few seconds prior.

over a pot that she never mentioned until now? classy, donna, really classy.

richie took that as a sign to leave. he didn’t want any part of donna’s delusional shenanigans.

“he’s going to move the pot, dee dee,” you said defensively as carmen lugged the white stock pot off the burner and to an empty space on the counter. you could tell carmen was getting close to a breaking point as he stormed out of the kitchen. he put his hand up to you, stopping you from following him. you knew after years of being friends with him it was best to let him simmer before trying to immediately help him.

as donna spouted multiple thank yous, you slipped out of the hell hole of the kitchen to the bathroom. you knew better than to bother carmen when he was seemingly about to burst.

to your surprise, when looking in the mirror, you were still put together, tugging at the waistband of your jeans to waste more time collecting yourself. though as you dilly-dallied in the bathroom carmen was being hazed by mikey and richie. when you exited the bathroom natalie was lingering in the hallway waiting for you, swiftly taking you with her upstairs to tiffany.

mikey and richie were face to face asking each other if either one of them had told carmen the good news.

“why are you guys fucking with me?” carmen asked, his tone raising as the annoyance continued.

“no one’s fucking with you!” the friends said in unison.

“why would you think that?” mikey pestered carmen, taking a step closer to him.

“‘cause you’re always fuckin’ with me, that’s why i fuckin’ think it,” carmen spat back, his entire body tensing. he wanted them to stop with their anticipation and tell him what was so important.

“it’s a good thing! it’s a good thing!” they insisted, attempting to calm carmen down. carmen was standing stiff, his face reading as unimpressed and blank.

“just take a break from being a mopey little fuck,” mikey urged carmen as richie tried to quiet the youngest berzatto brother.

“we’re trying to tell you that peach is the love of your fucking life.” mikey’s voice dropped lower as he told carmen. he didn’t know where you were located in the house and didn’t want you to overhear as he told his brother the information.

“dude, i don’t have a love of my life.” carmen’s shoulders only seemed to tense more as they spoke.

richie was wearing a shit-eating grin as another timer echoed through the house.

“she’s been working at the restaurant,” mikey interjected as richie pumped his fists. “the body is banging!” he exclaimed as mikey mocked the word "banging” to carmen.

“she’s hot as balls. dude, that tip jar is always fucking full every time she picks up a shift.” richie reiterated excitedly as he bent closer to carmen.

though your normal attire had always been comfortable and mostly consisted of oversized garments, working at the beef transitioned your working attire to a more fitted attire due to having an overwhelming amount of regular male customers. your school loans had to be paid somehow.

carmen’s entire face was contorting upon hearing their comments about you. he wasn’t stupid. he knew you were attractive, but knowing his older brother and his married friend were ogling over you was disgusting. and wait? mikey said you were working at the restaurant? why the hell were you in that goddamn restaurant?

“she’s like a waitress in a fuckin’ porno,” richie continued, mikey following suit again “she’s all that and a fuckin’ basket of biscuits, bro.”

“oh, oh,” mikey started to speak again, inching closer to carmen’s face. “by the way she’s like a legitimate fucking wizard.” richie agreed with mikey, beaming as he spoke.

“w-wait, what did you say to her?” carmen stammered, looking at the two friends frantically. “you’ve been working with her? what did you say to her?” he needed to know. dear god, he needed to know why it was such good news and why it was so important that they tell him that you were the love of his life. what did they do this time?

“she picks up a shift when she doesn't have class,” mikey said casually, though carmen’s voice was rising in a panic.

“what did you do?” he asked, his eyes darting quickly at mikey and then at richie. “what did you do?” he demanded, barely able to catch his breath.

“bro, this is a once-in-a-million opportunity for you to score with a woman that’s stacked physically and mentally,” richie explained nonchalantly.

“homie, you’re having a fucking child,” carmen said his brows furrowed together trying to comprehend the fucked situation in front of him as another timer ended and sent the dinging through the hallways. “why are you even talking like that?” carmen questioned with a huff.

“it’s done,” mikey confessed, taking a step back.

“who asked you to do that?” carmen petitioned. he was furious. why the hell was his brother meddling in his life?

“i put in a good word,” mikey said, attempting to brush off carmen’s anger.

“nobody asked you to do that,” carmen countered sternly.

“she told me you two were in touch, so i told her about how you always had a little crush on her.” mikey smirked as if he hadn’t just released embarrassing information.

mikey wasn't lying, upon telling him that carmen had invited you to family dinner a few hours later, he and richie were trying to offer carmen up as the main course. you managed to walk away from the conversation unscathed, but mentally trying not to admit being too interested in what they were saying. you weren't going to seem like a lovesick fool and admit your feelings for him to his older brother and family friend.

“i feel like you’re breaking my balls.” carmen clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as more information came out. “i don’t understand why you always do that,” carmen grunted, continuing his heated rambling. “like, why are you like this?”

“she’s hot now, carm. she’s hot now,” richie said, circling back to where the conversation had started, trying to urge carmen to think of something positive.

“stevie was with us!” mikey exclaimed, already calling steven into the heated conversation.

“i don’t need steven to come over here,” carmen hissed, throwing his arms up as steven rounded the corner.

“would you tell him about peach at the beef?” the friends said, filling steven in on their topic of conversation.

“oh, y/n? peach?” steven asked, being confirmed with nods by richie and mikey. “she’s wonderful–”

carmen stared blankly, how had you agreed to come to christmas dinner with him knowing mikey had told you about the crush he used to have on you? he was filtering out the words steven was saying as richie and mikey started talking over each other.

“she’s a deeply good person,” steven said, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other around an overfilled glass of red wine. “i can see why you’re in love with her–”

“i-i’m not in love with her, though, that’s what i’m saying,” carmen pressed further, wishing that someone would listen to him. “where did you guys get this from?”

“you used to have all those drawings,” richie commented, though carmen’s anger and embarrassment spiked as he pointed a finger at the group of men in front of him.

“that’s what i’m fuckin’ talking about, though!” carmen’s voice was rising every second, but luckily for him you, natalie, and tiffany were in donna’s bed catching up with each other as carmen only got louder.

“that’s what i’m saying! that’s why i think you’re fucking with me!” carmen was speaking so rapidly. he could barely keep up with his words as steven, richie, and mikey began to chuckle.

“you used to give me a fucking hard time about it.” carmen retorted again, backing away from the three of them. mikey was pestering carmen by trying to grab his face as the cycle of another timer was over. carmen was begging for him to stop touching him as steven mentioned that mikey had the conversation with you handled.

the timer kept ringing as mikey inched closer. carmen was swatting his brother’s hands away as a spoon flew towards the men.

“the fuck?” steven murmured, turning on his heel to look at donna. “auntie d, did you just throw a spoon at me?”

that was a hell of a way to break up a conversation. donna demanded that the sprite richie was toting be brought to his wife and that carmen was needed back in the kitchen.

“ma, you gotta chill, mom,” mikey said walking towards donna, repeating himself as she urged him not to speak to her that way.

richie bent down, holding one of carmen’s shoulder’s firmly. “we’re not done with this peach thing.”

“you’re fuckin’ breaking my balls,” carmen said, his voice had lowered again, though he did not look pleased.

“no, i think, i think it’s just a big misunderstanding,” richie admits, taking a final peak over steven’s shoulder before resuming his task of bringing the sprite to tiffany.

steven nodded to carmen. “carm…this is a good thing.”

carmen was looking past steven’s striped shirt and large square glasses as he spoke. he didn’t care what anyone was saying to him about you. he might have been overly defensive in that vomit-inducing conversation, but maybe that was because he did care about you.

you and natalie had filtered out of donna’s bedroom as richie knocked on the door, leaving the couple to their own devices.

the entire time you had sat on the edge of the bed with the other two women, carefully looking around the jaguar-infested room. it was so dramatically gaudy and over the top. though, donna being donna, would most definitely have it decorated the way she did.

the conversations were light at first though when tiffany mentioned richie previously telling her that michael had told you of the childhood crush carmen had on you there was nothing other than laughter. the laughter was refreshing from the overwhelming dread that was lingering over the home. it was as though being with family, this family, in particular, was a death sentence to any participant.

you weren't oblivious to carmen's obvious staring and stuttering, though even in the present day nothing had changed. except you left out the part where you mentioned that you were always stealing sneaky glances at carmen as well.

in the kitchen, an artichoke topped with breadcrumbs fell to the ground. donna was on her knees cursing as she began to clean it. lee rushed in to help her. he made her laugh. donna was laughing and smiling. that brought her temperament down. lee not only helped clean the kitchen mess, but donna’s attitude as well.

though now donna was shoving her long red nails into lee’s face insisting that she didn’t need a job opportunity that he had smoothly worked into the conversation. mikey had walked into the back and forth with lee and donna, questioning if they were arguing again. lee casually picked up the dropped artichoke, looking at mikey, and merely commented that he had only been cleaning a mess.

mikey had started the smart-ass remarks with lee, slamming the bottle opener for his beer cap on the top of the fridge. donna was still on her knees as she yelled for mikey to be kinder. lee murmurs about a lack of christmas spirit in the home but continues with his cleaning duty with donna.

the fak brothers and michelle were hidden in the bathroom, smoking a joint. they were bantering, reminiscing, and then finally in agreement. agreeing that donna was going to blow her lid. the real question now was when?

donna was cracking lobsters, progressively becoming more intoxicated by the second. you leaned against the counter watching carmen pace around the kitchen, trying to keep up with the list of demands from his mother. natalie insisted on helping, to which donna immediately declined.

jimmy entered the kitchen again. while donna was distracted, natalie looked at you and then motioned to carmen. she wiggled the half-consumed bottle of wine in disbelief. her eyes were wide upon finding that her mother had ingested another ridiculous amount of alcohol.

“...sugar instead of salt and the gravy tasted like fuckin’ hawaiian punch,” donna recounted the story of how natalie got her nickname to jimmy, casually tossing the lobster shells away as she spoke.

“at least she's not peach because she ripped her pants open to show everyone her peach underwear during the neighborhood garage sale when she tried to run on the treadmill mrs. troisi was selling,” you retorted, a hint of red filling your cheeks as jimmy patted your shoulder. mikey never let you live it down, though when most people heard the name they luckily thought it was because you were a metaphorical peach in your personality.

another timer altered the kitchen, donna shooing carmen away to fetch tiffany some saltine crackers to go with her homemade sprite. you stayed with natalie, assuming it would be best for carmen to have a minute away from family. donna went on another spiel, asking to be reminded what her timer was for and to make sure someone told her to put the bread in the oven.

carmen stood in the pantry with mikey, his agitation showing. he voiced his annoyance about being unable to work with him at the beef, though he didn’t bring up the fact that mikey was allowing you to work there; he was still stewing on that new factoid, not even having mentioned that he knew it to you. he never returned to the kitchen. mikey wanted more for carmen, just as you did, but his own personal reasons he didn't reveal were more to the reason he didn't want carmen in the restaurant with him.

sitting in the den as michelle went on some ridiculous tangent about her last name and a random woman who knew about bears, you could only agree that it was better than still being in the kitchen with donna and natalie. you finally started to relax for the first time that night, your legs crossed comfortably as you sunk into the couch cushions. lee started jabbering about sports when mikey walked past them. he looked rough. he looked off; something wasn’t right.

donna yelled from the kitchen, cursing loudly, making steven begin to stand, wanting to offer her a helping hand. even your eyes widened at this fact. how was he still going to go in there even after everyone was begging him not to bother her? steven was nice, but oblivious to the true ways of donna. you had figured it out for yourself many years ago, and now steven was about to as well.

with carmen still not back in the kitchen, donna was unraveling. she burnt the fish from the oven, staggering around trying not to drop the hot tray before slamming it on the counter, causing her wine glass to topple onto the floor. natalie was frantically trying to clean the glass shards as donna claimed that no one ever offered to help her.

donna was rambling wildly, holding natalie’s face harshly as natalie pleaded with her mother that she was okay and needed to settle down. steven, of course, was now learning his lesson as he offered his help.

“get the fuck out!” donna voiced loudly, steven standing shocked only nodded his head, awkwardly backing out of the kitchen. natalie was breathing heavily as she took the glass-filled trash bag out of the kitchen, muttering to herself as steven stopped her before going out the door. steven was now using his kindness to natalie’s advantage, wrapping her in a tight hug.

back in the den, everyone was uncomfortably listening to mikey’s incoherent story. his words were misplaced and jumbled. talking with his hands was not uncommon, but they never seemed to sit still, even if they rested they were jittering.

“we’ve heard this story a million times,” lee said, interrupting mikey’s retelling.

“no, uh, let him finish,” you spoke up, though lee only rolled his eyes.

you looked at mikey, wrapped in his brown tassel blanket. everyone trying to defuse the potential situation as mikey only seemed to be becoming more irritated the longer he went without talking.

“you sold the car and then you find the horse,” lee announced, summing up mikey’s story quickly. he sipped his drink as mikey threw his hands up in defeat, sarcastically congratulating him on ruining the moment.

lee started recounting mikey’s multiple failed business plans. michelle was trying to center the conversation back to a safe spot as jimmy walked in to join them, the tension was still present but the bickering had silenced as michelle welcomed jimmy.

“what’s going on in here?” jimmy questioned, mikey immediately perked his head up.

“this jagoff is talking shit,” he muttered about lee. lee tried to lighten the mood, playfully pointing to himself and repeating the nickname.

“i guess about how i, like, don’t finish shit,” mikey said, his expression was blank.

jimmy was in agreement, softly speaking as he nodded. mikey wasn’t the most practical of businessmen.

pete came bursting in toting a wrapped tuna casserole. like pete, you didn’t understand why there couldn’t be eight fishes, but knew that if everyone was telling him it was a bad idea then it was true. you followed the basic rule that if donna had a particular tradition to never break it. you didn't think it was necessary to cause anyone in the berzatto family any extra anger; they had enough of it genetically engineered into their veins.

carmen came to announce that dinner was ready and they were needed at the dinner table. michelle was warning everyone not to tell carmen what was in pete’s hand, but when he looked at you he rolled his eyes.

“tuna casserole,” you breathed out, a cough backing up your words. carmen began berating pete for bringing the dish. who knew that eight fishes could make someone an asshole? apparently, the berzattos knew this fact, and anyone not related to them was left to cope with whatever hell eight fishes would bring.

“don’t let her fucking see it,” carmen warned him as he walked out, though you were following behind him. natalie swiftly took the tray and threw the casserole out the door.

the table was cluttered, everyone basically sitting elbow to elbow as they all were seated. you nudged carmen with your foot and his head raised as he exhaled. you could tell this family gathering was screwing with his head. he nudged your ankle to acknowledge you, though you couldn’t tell if that was enough to settle his nerves as he mentioned going to get his mother to sit down.

carmen was once again in the kitchen. his pleas were not enough to make donna come to join the table. she would only go when she was ready. he was feeling guiltier by the second as she wouldn’t join them for dinner. he finally returned to the table, seeming more quiet than before.

steven was volunteered to say the prayer but quickly declined. michelle took his place asking about the seven fishes. lee butted in with his biblical nonsense, a fork then thwacking him in the head. everyone's face dropped at the sudden interaction. no one liked where this was headed.

mikey mimicked the sound of a buzzer. his eyes unfocused and overly amused by his actions.

“did you just throw a fork at me?” lee asked, whipping his head around to look at mikey.

“i did,” mikey said a bit too proudly. his elbows were on the table and his hands were folded until he started to speak. speaking wildly, incoherently, and maybe a little too loudly.

jimmy peeked his head forward. “what are you doing, michael?”

“he started it, uncle j,” mikey waved his hands to lee.

“mike just–” carmen started to speak until lee chimed in. “don't throw fuckin’ forks at people.”

mikey began to mock lee for speaking. richie bent his head down, trying to contain a laugh of nervousness.

“hey, fak. you using your fork?” mikey hinted. neil fak stuttered for a moment before admitting that he needed his utensil. fak tried to convince mikey not to take the fork, but soon the silverware was inching away from him.

“please–” fak mumbled, trying to keep his voice neutral. it was as though he was trying to defuse a bomb.

“i just need to borrow it for one second,” mikey said, raising the silverware in his hand and waving it teasingly. you were now chirping with the rest of the crowd for him to set the fork down.

it hit lee in the forehead again.

“i threw the fork, lee,” mikey said, covering his mouth as he spoke. his wide eyes fixated on lee.

“cousin, you're scaring the normals,” richie jests, trying to lighten the mood.

“mikey–” you uttered, clearing your throat, though he didn't pay you any mind.

your eyes were fixed on mikey. your hand was under the table rubbing carmen's knee gently. you now understood more of the reason you needed to be present for him tonight. carmen massaged his temples, shutting his eyes tightly.

“you see, i can throw forks ‘cause this is our father’s house,” mikey was blabbering. that disturbed look in his eye still present.

“rich,” lee called upon mikey's friend, hoping he could do something to stop mikey.

“my father's house,” mikey continued.

“we have lift off,” commented michelle.

lee pestered mikey again, but not in some playful way. a true jab about his stories again. the laugh mikey was not out of fun. mikey was hunched over as he chuckled.

“tell a story about how you're living with your mom and you're borrowing money off of her and other suckers who'll listen to your bullshit,” lee spat, silencing everyone else at the table for a moment.

“lee, shut the fuck up,” jimmy warned, though he was silenced the moment lee pinned him as one of the suckers mikey was mooching off of.

“unc, it’s fine,” mikey said, a wide smile across his face, though his face dropped as lee continued to speak.

“because this guy's nothing and he's nobody,” lee taunted. mikey's mouth was agape, but lee continued. “and i know you're-you're scared and you're afraid, aren't you, michael? and michael i don’t know what the fuck you’re on, but whatever it is, if you can hear me through the fog, throw another fork at me and you're gonna get fuckin’ rocked.”

lee and mikey stared at each other for a moment. no one else dared to make any sudden movements. you halted rubbing carmen's knee, like everyone else you were wondering how far the situation was going to escalate.

mikey rubbed his beard, just under his nose. “hey petey,” he coaxed. pete was reluctant to look at mikey.

“you think i could just, like, borrow that for one second? i just…” there was a small clattering of utensils as mikey picked up pete's fork, and an even louder bunch of voices chimed in to warn mikey to halt his actions. you knew that this wasn't going to stop mikey. mikey had already made up his mind after the first fork he threw.

mikey looked at natalie, his fork in position for launch. she was begging him not to throw it. he stopped moving when she spoke.

“i love you, okay?” sugar spoke softly, though mikey never lowered the fork.

“i love you too, sug,” mikey had a nod going as he spoke, the fork still tightly in his hand.

“i'm begging you,” sugar expressed sternly, though ot raising her tone.

steven gave an embarrassing laugh. “i'm sorry. i giggle when i get nervous,” he admitted, glancing around at the family next to him.

mikey was taken out of sugar's trance. he was waving the fork sporadically as he spoke. he was assuring steven that it was okay for his outburst. though as he kept insisting that it was okay to laugh jimmy spoke up. “michael, i need you to calm down, buddy, alright?” jimmy much like everyone else, was uncomfortable with the tension-filled room.

“mike–” carmen warned, his brother,

“there’s other people at the table, i need you to calm down,” jimmy explained, peering around the table at the confused and frightened faces. “you're being a bit of an asshole,” jimmy added, hoping mikey would see how unacceptable his behavior was.

though, mikey, high on whatever substance he was on started smiling again. “thank you, uncle j, but i'm fine.” no one could believe this fact seeing as moments before he launched two other forks across the table at lee's head and was still holding the third.

after a sarcastic comment from lee, jimmy confirmed that along with michael being an asshole, lee fit the bill. mikey also thanked jimmy for that comment. just a table with two assholes and a bunch of bystanders internally pleading that mikey would drop the fork that was in his hand.

“go ahead,” lee taunted. “let's go,” he coaxed. “fuckin’ throw it.”

mikey licked his bottom lip, the fork still waving in his hand. “yeah?”

“yeah, throw it or put it down,” lee threatened. it was followed by a weak chuckle from mikey.

“you bite lee? is that what you do?” mikey counters, his eyes darting around the table before going back to lee.

“for fucksake, your mother's been workin' for fucking days, making this meal. have some respect. there's other people at this fucking table!” jimmy scolded mikey.

“throw the fuckin’ fork,” lee insisted, though his hands went to cover his face.

“oh, would you look at that? i didn't throw it! i didn't throw it, you fuckin’ pussy!” mikey was towering over the table as he rose from his seat, aiming to throw it again. he only got louder and more entertained in this sick game as lee went to cover himself again. “you fuckin’ flinched! look, you did it again, you fucking pussy!” mikey announced louder, flicking the utensil again.

“throw it,” lee grunted as mikey sat back down. “i'm not on anything. i flinch,” lee threw another verbal jab in mikey's direction. “i still--my brain's connected to my nerves, you monster.”

“yeah, i'm a monster, lee,” mikey mocked. the entire table was in disbelief as the argument continued.

“you're a loser fuckin monster,” lee remarked with a sneer.

“nobody wants you here with your big fuckin’ mouth,” mikey said, puffing his chest out a bit more. “with your big fuckin’ mouth,” mikey repeated with a scoff. he slammed his hand into the table, making a few glasses shake.

“fuckin’ throw it,”

“yeah?”

“go ahead, fuckin’ throw it you fucking animal,”

“yeah?” mikey was screeching in a similar tone to that of a rabid animal.

“yeah, make it about you. make christmas about you,” lee sneered. “throw the fucking fork.” he urged again. though lee didn't stop talking. “you’re nothing.”

“you’re nothing,” lee reiterated. “you're nothing.” a third time. lee paused, gritting his teeth. “you are nothing.” and again. “you’re nothing.” lee didn't stop. mikey's eyebrows fell as lee said it again. “you’re nothing.” lee continued to repeat those demeaning words until donna walked into the dining area.

everyone was applauding her, putting on a happy face, wishing her a happy holiday and a merry christmas. donna looked as though she had been crying, her makeup smudged, and her blonde hair looked like she had been pulling at it with annoyance.

cigarette in one hand and wine in the other, donna sat at the head of the table closest to the china cabinet. it was deadly silent.

“what'd i miss?” she interjected the silence with a giddy tone in her voice.

lee looked to donna, “nothing,” he commented, waving his hands though his tone was not as fierce as it previously was with mikey.

“i missed something,” donna insisted, knowing the chaotic household was never so silent.

“no, no, no,” mikey denied, luckily donna didn't press any further. “stevie's about to say grace, ma,” he added, waving the fork.

steven was trying to politely decline, but the more steven said no the more mikey wanted to press him.

“just fuckin’ say the thing, okay?” mikey urged, as his mother pawed at her hair.

michelle in hopes of keeping the table at a simmer presses further for steven to say the blessing over the food. steven, as awkward as he is, took the challenge, although he was most likely following michelle's lead in wanting mikey, lee, and donna to act semi-normal for the rest of the night.

“hey, uh, it's great that we're all together, um, and healthy, i think,” steven began, michelle producing a slight giggle as he spoke. “uh, no one’s si–physically very sick.”

was he referring to mikey or donna or both? hell, maybe he was referring to himself and decided to include the rest of the group with him because it was probably true.

“i'm so grateful, um, for this beautiful meal,” steven paused looking to donna, “and donna, um, what an incredible job donna did. and i-i could hear in there. it sounded very hard and it's just gorgeous,”

donna had an impeccably large smile on her face, pride washing over her as her painstaking work had been acknowledged. her hands clasped together with gratitude as though she had won the oscar nomination for best actress.

“and is he still holding the fork?” steven asked nervously. mikey looked up, the base of the fork shoved in the center of his praying hands.

“sure is,” jimmy confirmed, steven paused for a moment before finding his way back to his prayer he wasn't prepared for.

“okay, um, listen” steven announced, though he was stalling for more time to find another topic. stalling to ensure that mikey would put down that goddamn fork and allow dinner to finish on a peaceful note. “what is the seven fishes or why do we do it?” steven nodded his head, the other’s seated at the table were now focused on steven speaking rather than blankly and nervously staring at the table. “i think i know what my definition is,” steven swallowed hard, his mouth dry, trying to accumulate more words. “uh, as soon as i think of it…it's a chance to be together and to take care of each other.” donna took a drag from her cigarette quickly so her hands could fold together in prayer as steven continued to speak. it was as though all his yammering was to talk mikey off of the ledge he had placed himself on, hoping that it would be enough to force him to drop his borrowed fork.

“and to eat together. and there's seven fishes, which means you have to make seven entirely different dishes. seven entirely different ways. and that takes a lot of time, and i think spending that time and using that time on the people that we love is how we show them that we love them,” donna was practically in tears as steven spoke of love and togetherness. maybe that’s all she wanted, love and togetherness. holidays were hard enough, but maybe she needed familial support rather than criticism. though it was hard not to criticize her or anyone else at the table because of their unwillingness to get help for their issues. they all complained of each other’s anger and hostility but never complained of their own.

“…and maybe we eat too much…and we definitely drink too much, and we say too much without listening, but tonight w-we're gonna eat seven fishes which is absurd,” michelle gave a small chuckle at steven's quips in his blessing.

“but we have to take extra time to do it and we have to chew more and we have to listen more. and, uh, we only get to do this tonight one time, so i, by the way, love it. i love being here. thank you for having me every year at this. i look…i very much look forward to this. and i love you,” he said looking towards michelle, her eyes fluttering at his sweet devotion.

“i-i-i’m very in love with michelle, and i'm not gay like you guys asked a lot, but i was thinking about what you said about bears and how they're aggressive,” steven continued to chatter, though his gaze only on michelle now.

“they're aggressive, but they're kind…they're sensitive,” his gaze was genuinely loving and of light as he looked at michelle.

“you guys have been so kind to me. you guys let me hang out with you every holiday. i don’t have a family like this and i'm really grateful that, um, you make space for me at this table and time for me on the holidays,”

“may god bless us and keep us safe in the new year, and please give michael the strength not to throw that fork, amen,” steven concluded, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment. michelle wrapped him in a tight embrace as they uttered soft ‘i love yous’ to each other.

“stevie, that was, uh, that was beautiful,” mikey commented.

donna was wiping her final tears away with a sigh. her wrinkled hands brought her cigarette to her mouth again. “it doesn't fuckin’ matter,” she muttered, her eyes closed tightly.

carmen was scratching his temple as he looked at his mother. his hand was now on yours that had been still sitting on his knee from earlier. his palm was sweaty, probably from the overwhelming amount of stress that the holiday was causing him.

“no, donna, it’s great,” you uttered as everyone else at the table tried to send their praises to her. everyone's attention was on her, trying to coax her into a better mindset.

the only one that didn't attempt to say anything was carmen, his jaw clenched tightly as he saw donna begin to exhale.

“you okay?” sugar whispered, carmen's head flipping to look at his sister. everyone at the table closed their eyes in dismay. everyone had made it through conversations, pete’s eighth fish, lee's belittling, mikey's two fork throws, and steven's version of grace, but they all knew they couldn't escape this.

sug…no…sugar

“oh, natalie rose berzatto,” donna’s eyes were closed as she leaned back in her chair, only opening them when she flicked her head towards her middle child. “do you know how much i hate when you ask me that?”

natalie's mouth was agape, trying to avoid eye contact with her mother.

mikey had dropped pete’s fork on the table he ran his hands through his hair. his petty fork throws were nothing in comparison to the hurricane that was brewing across the table.

“do you know how much i fuckin’ hate when you ask me that?” donna's teeth were gritted, a maniacal laugh surfacing as she spoke so harshly to natalie. “do you ask the rest of these people if they're okay?”

“no,” a simple answer spouted from sweet natalie, though donna wouldn't let her get any other words in as she was so keen on speaking over her daughter.

“do i not look okay, natalie?”

“not really,” michelle was saying what everyone else was thinking, though now donna's attention was now on the other side of the table.

“oh, fuck you, michelle,” donna spat. “i do not look okay? did i not just bust my ass all day for you motherfuckers?”

“i didn't mean it like that,” michelle uttered, though her shoulders dropped. she looked defeated and unheard.

donna stood from her chair, gesturing towards the table. “this is beautiful!” she exclaimed waving and shaking her hands wildly. “am i okay? am i okay? are you motherfuckers okay?”

she was screaming, her eyes wandering across the family and friends sitting in their chairs. “are you okay, lee?” she sneered.

“you didn't do shit! this is fucking gorgeous! fuck you!” donna was slurring her words the louder she became. she threw a plate to the ground. “fuck you!” she concluded, stomping away after giving her final curses to natalie.

“it's okay,” michelle quickly and quietly tried to tend to natalie by rubbing her arm.

you squeezed carmen's knee. you needed him to know you were still there. you were witnessing this with him.

lee looked from left to right with a shrug. “well, i guess we all knew that was gonna happen. so it's out. and, uh, maybe everybody, everybody can relax, huh?” he suggested, taking a breath. though mikey didn't seem as convinced with this advice.

“that's the worst i've ever seen her,” michelle mentioned, not to be rude, but to possibly try and lighten the unfortunate situation they were all now a part of.

the clattering of silverware was heard through the dining area. mikey cocked his arm back and launched the fork at lee's head.

lee hopped up in an instant. “you fuckin’ piece of shit!”

michael flipped the table, every dish and placemat was now on the floor as lee and mikey charged toward each other. the fak brothers immediately tried to hold the two men back as everyone else tried to get as far away from the chaos as possible. jimmy was screaming, hell, everyone was screaming at each other.

carmen managed to pull you close to the back wall nearest the dessert. you willingly followed his harsh tugging on your hand not wanting to get in the midst of more chaos than needed.

richie pushed tiffany towards jimmy, wanting her safety to remain intact as he went to pull mikey away from lee. richie was almost immediately forced away by mikey with an overpowering shove. the faks were still attempting to hold the men apart from each other when there was a loud crash.

donna had rammed her car through the foyer. she had gone through the front of the home, squandering the christmas tree and the remaining sanity of the rest of the guests. that was what caused mikey to rush to donna, snap out of his anger with lee, and come to her rescue. he was beating on the driver's side window.

“ma, what did you do?!” he was repeating it over and over trying to make her open her car door. donna remained locked in the car, but mikey's banging only became more forceful as donna was laughing. “open the door, ma!”

christmas was a sick joke. donna had turned the script. she won a trophy for the most narcissistic member of family dinner.

carmen was staring at a pile of pistachio-crusted cannolis topped with powdered sugar, but his main focus was the silver fork, the third and final fork, sticking out of the sweet dessert.

natalie, sugar, whoever she was, the middle child of the berzattos sat in her chair, shocked into place, staring wide-eyed at the misfortune of the holiday.

you didn't exactly remember how you and carmen ended up outside, but the chilly chicago air was calming the nerves of the both of you. carmen was pacing, chain-smoking cigarettes as you stared at him. it was a long moment of silence, though after begging for quiet earlier it only felt worse now.

the christmas lights illuminated him perfectly as he stopped and turned to look at you. his mind had calmed down to a dull roar and flicked the ash from his final smoke. carmen had enough of dealing with “mom duty.” he was done with family. it was peach and bear together again.

“why the hell did you not tell me you were working in the restaurant?” carmen asked with a huff, though he was looking past you into the window of his childhood home. carmen was deflecting; he didn't want to think of any of tonight's events.

“bear, i–”

“peach, what the hell were you thinking?”

i'm not thinking. not about that right now at least. i'm thinking about the car through the house we used to play in and how your brother, my boss, just went ape shit on your mom's boyfriend.

“i was thinking that i needed a job, and no one else would hire me with my schedule,” you admitted, tilting your head while your eyebrows furrowed.

“mikey, fuckin’, asshole,” carmen crossed his arms, stamping out the cigarette butt he threw to the ground. his pile was complete though his muscle memory reached for the package in his pocket until he grunted finding the package in a crumpled ball next to his lighter. “h-he hires you to fuckin’ stare and never gave me half of a goddamn chance,”

“it's not like that. i bag sandwiches and make less than minimum wage,” you held your temples, leaning against the siding of the house. “you're a chef. a good fuckin’ chef, and you want to work at some shithole that can barely pay to keep the lights on?”

“that's not what i'm trying to say and you know it,” carmen huffed, stepping closer to you, trying not to alert the neighbors of any more dysfunction from the household. there were already enough of them standing outside of their homes looking at the new garage donna had installed.

“bear, i have been picking up the pieces of that restaurant for the past nine months, and not once have i complained to you or even mentioned it because i know the shit that goes on there is only going to drag you down,” you explained though your chest felt heavy and empty. nine months of confusion, busting your ass, using every inch of the backbone you had to grow, and only watching a steady decline in the restaurant.

“y/n, i never asked you to do it! i don't need to be looked after like a damn child,” he spat. he was gripping the back of his hair trying to keep his anger contained. it only spiraled so quickly because his mind was reliving every moment from the night.

“carmen,” you crossed your arms. your expression had dropped. your nails were digging into the palms of your hands. “you let them drag you back into this every time. you continue to let them suck you into the ridiculousness and hysteria. how many times are you going to let them keep doing this to you? because every time i beg you to do something better you turn around and let them squander everything.”

“so i'm supposed to leave and never come back? it’s my fault for letting them do it? like i don't already have enough to worry about now i have to let this go so easily? like i'm trying to fix myself, make myself better by doing something for my career and you're mad because i come home for christmas,” carmen scoffed, as he only stepped closer.

“carmen, have you not listened to a word i've said? let me try again, you can't keep coming back because they ruin you.”

“why are you in that fuckin’ restaurant then? why do you care so much?”

“because i don't want them to call you and bring you back to the hell you're crawling out of because i fucking care about you! i have no connection to them other than you! i'm almost done here in chicago and i don't want to have to leave and know you've been coerced back because of the people that are always hurting you,” you exhaled, trying to contain yourself though carmen was frustrating you. your expression never softened. your head was pounding from the night's volume level being at a constant high. “you barely talk to me anymore because we always have this same conversation.”

carmen stared blankly. he released the grip on the back of his hair and shoved his hands into his pockets. he was so conflicted. he wanted to be the best he could be. he wanted more than who he was raised to be, but then struggled in knowing that he would probably always fall back on his berzatto instincts. angry, spiteful, grudge-holding people who were almost always mentally ill.

“we barely talk anymore because i'm scared to ruin everything i have with you. i have years with you, and you have always tried so goddamn hard to help me, but y-you're right it's the same shit every year, every fuckin’ year,” carmen admitted, though he didn't want to make eye contact with you.

“you are only going to ruin this friendship if you keep pushing me away. i want to see you succeed and thrive. do you think it’s fun when i keep having to see you hurt?” you mumbled, unwilling to see his mental health decline any further. you couldn’t bear to keep seeing someone you cared so deeply for continue to be walked over, criticized, and disregarded.

“no, but damn, like, i keep failing every time i come back. failing you because i can never seem to listen. i keep thinking things will be different and every time i’m wrong i have the urge to keep coming back to see it become right.” carmen was pacing as he spoke, but the moment he stopped he managed to slide down the side of the house next to you. he crouched on his knees as he looked up at you.

“you’re so wrapped up in everything else you can’t see what’s in front of you. you have a career. jesus, you have me, bear.” you uttered with a sigh, as you slid down next to him. his hand immediately found your hand that was resting on your thigh and gently began to trace lines onto your knuckles.

“peach, be realistic, it’s not just about me,” you rolled your eyes at his comment and shook your head.

“your life is all about you, carmen. you can control it and you can decide who you want in your life. my best suggestion is to only let those in who care. stop running away from what you want because you feel tied to your shitty family in chicago. is it just easier to hide it under your pride?” your head leaned against his shoulder, and carmen only continued to play with your hand as the tow truck meticulously tried to back into the driveway of the house to pull donna’s car out of the house.

“how am i not supposed to run?” carmen asked stifling a laugh, watching the scene intently.

“keep dedicating yourself to it. you’ve done a helluva good job so far, keep it up,” you encouraged, sighing at the car being pulled out of the house. you were only grateful no other family members bothering you both.

it was a long spell of silence, but carmen stopped rubbing your hand. he cleared his throat, making you turn your head towards him.

“i care about you too…like, l-like peach, i really fuckin’ care,” carmen admitted thinking about what you had said earlier.

“i never have stopped caring, bear,” you confessed, moving to sit flat on the ground. your hands raked through the grass nervously, never having admitted any feeling towards him in the many years of knowing him.

“i-i don’t know how to do any of this, or know anything about how to deal with this,” carmen fixated on your eyes with something vulnerable in them.

“you don’t have to know right now. you don’t have to rush with me, but you need to focus on being healthy and working for what you want,” you comforted him, being lost in the blue pools in front of you.

“i want you, peach,” he confirmed, nodding slowly, his hand caressing your cheek. “it’s going to take a while to figure you out, and fuck, i’ve known you longer than i’ve been able to cook, but i’ll be damned if i keep letting you go again, or letting my brother try and smooth talk you for me.”

“keep working then, bear, i’ll always be here.” a smile spread across your face as you relaxed into his side.

christmas would likely never be the same for you and carmen. each year that passed you saw carmen in the news, each time growing into a more successful person. you were proud of him. you regularly kept in touch, both of you just waiting for the right moment. each of you were so involved in your careers away from chicago, but still so involved with each other.

it wasn’t until carmen took over the beef that you knew he was back in chicago. you always wondered why he had gone back after being so adamant to stay away, but the moment he was back you were back with him. visiting his apartment, wondering why he had jeans in his oven, reminiscing on the good times, and trying to talk through the bad.

thinking back to the eventful christmas holiday carmen often mentioned to you how mikey and richie pestered him about you, and he hated admitting it, but they were right. you were the love of his life. the one that was always there. the one that was patient. the one that waited. the one that kept him grounded.

he missed mikey, well, he missed who he remembered mikey to be. every time he uncovered a new terrible part of his past he would call you, trying to talk through the emotions rather than dwelling on them and having a massive and uncontrollable berzatto outburst. his anxiety would never be gone and his perfectionism ruled his life, but you allowed it to be easier managed.

it was peach and bear again because it was always just meant to be peach and bear no matter how long it took, how many arguments were had, no matter how many messages were unsent, and no matter how many times they left each other only to find one another again.

[springtyme]

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

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐡 ♡

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

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

word count: 1.k

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

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

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

And he definitely knows what he’s doing too.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he prefers to have you in bed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fishfooddude]

Valentine's Fluff Fest

Day 10: Cards

Richie Jerimovich x Reader

“Got any 2s?” you asked Richie, as the steady beep of hospital machines echoed. You have X-ray vision,” he grumbled, tossing two 2s in your direction. You laughed, “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“This kid is really takin’ his damn time.” Richie laughed as he sat back down after getting you another cup of ice chips. You rolled your eyes, “You’re the reason we’re here, Mr. Please baby, your pussy-” Your witty retort was interrupted by another contraction coming over you. Richie leaned forward, resting his hand on yours as you gripped the sides of the hospital bed, waiting for the pain to subside. “You’re doin’ amazin’ baby…” Richie cooed as he squeezed your hand. You exhaled through the pain and tried to relax.

“Wanna play another round of cards?”

[blueaprondelight]

Imagining Richie x reader where they’re on a date one night and it’s cold, so Richie lets reader borrow that leather jacket of his… and naturally she keeps it, because it smells like him and it’s so oversized on her that it feels like a hug…

She shows up at The Bear one day to see him at work, and she’s wearing his jacket. Of course it’s a staple for Richie so everyone recognizes it, and tease her until Richie yells at them all for making his girl embarrassed 😩

-🐻

let me just say, seeing this after i just got done writing a small draft for an upcoming angst richie fic where reader keeps his jacket after their breakup, nearly made me cry.

but anyway! awe, it'd be so cute! richie is 100% the type of guy who loves seeing you wear his clothes. his tee shirts that smell like you when he wears them next, his hoodies, and his signature leather jacket. i imagine he's very protective of that jacket (in my mind it was a gift from mikey, i know thats never really been confirmed anywhere but consider it one of my headcanons) and when you get to wear it?? it's like a trophy or something lmao.

but yes, you come into the bear with a letter for richie that seemed pretty important. you've gotten good at knowing when the bear is busiest and when it's usually calmer, so richie can sneak away. you walk in, and immediately fak (who already knows you're dating richie) notices the jacket. "is- is that richie's jacket?!"

"um, yeah.." you give him a puzzled look before you shake your head. "is he in the back? i wanted to drop this off and-"

it's not long before fak is calling for someone else to come see this. pretty soon, carmen is even standing in the doorway from the dining area to the kitchen, his arms crossed as he smirks. "he gave you his jacket?"

richie walks in, clapping his hands. "aye! fuckers! don't you all have work to be doing!?" he walks over, cupping your face in his hands. "hi. i love you." he gives you numerous pecks before you manage to hand him the letter. "i'm gonna go before that starts back up again." you give him another kiss before you're slipping out the door, and when richie turns back around, the bear staff knows they're in trouble.

"which one of you started it?"