#Carmen Berzatto imagine
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would it be possible to write pathetic subby carmen?? maybe even pegging him?? idk id really really appreciate it!
oh yeah. thatâs the good stuff. smut warning, obvs.
âI didnât even know your back could arch like this, Carmen.â
You run your hand up and down the length of his spine, admiring the dips and curves and the dimples at the base of it.
âStop it,â he mumbles.
âStop what?â
âTalking like that.â
âYou donât like it when I compliment you?â
He groans, burying his face in the pillows in embarrassment. You pull back your hips before slamming them against his backside, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling at the noise he makes. Youâre having too much fun - keeping your strokes deep and slow, making sure Carmen stays right on the edge.
âPlease.â
âYou look so pretty like this, Carmen. Ass up, face down, taking my cock like you were made for it.â
You watch as his knees buckle, sending him crashing down onto his stomach on the bed. You hike his hips back up to where they were, giving him a condescending slap on the backside as you do it.
âStay in this position or I wonât let you come. Understand?â
When youâre met with silence, you pull out of him completely, laughing when he whines.
âUnderstand?â
âYes, yes. Please. I understand. Please.â
âPleaseâŚ?â
âPlease, baby.â
Slap.
âNuh uh. Try again.â
âPlease, maâam.â
Slap.
âNuh uh.â
âPlease⌠mommy.â
You slide back into him with no warning, his breathy moans like music to your ears.
âGood boy, Carmen. Good boy. Iâll give you what you want now, because youâve been so well behaved.â
All he can do is whine, pushing his hips back to meet your thrusts.
âThatâs it, baby. There we go. Good boys get rewarded.â
#murph writes blurbs#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto x female reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#the bear smut#the bear x reader#the bear x reader smut#the bear x you#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto imagine
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nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|
prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.
based off this prompt from the other day :)
contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.
âAlright, listen up,â Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. âWe need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.âÂ
âYes, Chef!â A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmenâs pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line.Â
âAnd for table nine, weâve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So letâs triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?â Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket.Â
âYes, Chef!â Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock.Â
âTable nine, is that- thatâs the senator?â Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoriaâs station, giving her a curt nod of approval.Â
âNo, thatâs table eleven.â Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. âNine, is⌠a birthday. Booked online.â Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one.Â
The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name?Â
You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. Youâd even invited him over to your place a few times, heâd spent the night last week.Â
Still, Carmen hadnât managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmenâs life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasnât purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasnât ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself.Â
âCarmen?â Sydneyâs voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. âChef, are you- are you good?â Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows.Â
âWhat?â Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richieâs frame blocking most of it. âSorry, yeah- yeah, Iâm good, Chef.âÂ
Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richieâs eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window.Â
There you were.Â
Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. Heâd actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadnât felt since junior high.Â
âAlright, walk five salads to nine.â Sydney called out. âWhereâs our runners? God, Richie, can you run-âÂ
â-I got it.â Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it.Â
âCousin, I can get it.â Richie frowned.Â
âNo, I-I got it.â Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. âI got it. Iâll be- Iâll just be a second.âÂ
âI donât- I canât even handle that one right now.â Sydney sighed in exasperation. âAlright, Chefs. Letâs get back on track.â She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone.Â
Sugarâs cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it.Â
From: RichieÂ
âLook at table nine.âÂ
Sugar huffed.Â
To: RichieÂ
âWhy? Is there something wrong?âÂ
She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen?Â
To: RichieÂ
âIs something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?âÂ
From: RichieÂ
âNo. Cousin wanted to go out there.âÂ
Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end.Â
Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. âHey,âÂ
âHi,â You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. âEverything looks so good.âÂ
âYeah? Thanks.â Carmen nodded. âI-I didnât know you were cominâ tonight.âÂ
âIâm sorry.â You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldnât have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced.Â
âI, uh, itâs my friendâs birthday.â You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. âAnd I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.â Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them. Â
âYeah, no, thatâs really nice. Thank you.â Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didnât see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. âWhy didnât- Why didnât you just call me? Tell me you were cominâ in.âÂ
âI didnât want to bother you.â You muttered softly. âI honestly didnât think youâd even see us here, I swear. I didnât mean to bother you or anything-âÂ
â-Youâre not bothering me.â Carmenâs voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. âNever a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.âÂ
Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmenâs own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin.Â
âAlright?â Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge.Â
âAlright.â You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his.Â
âHowâs everything so far?â Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee.Â
âJust let me know if you need anything, ok?â Carmen turned to you.
âI will.â You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection.Â
âGood. Iâll see you before you leave, alright?â Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. âYouâre not botherinâ me. âM glad youâre here.âÂ
Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight.Â
Carmen could feel everyoneâs eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydneyâs gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fakâs wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out.Â
âHey, uh, Marcus.â Carmen ignored Richieâs raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue.Â
âYes, Chef?â Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing.Â
âTable nine has a birthday. I was thinkinâ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?â Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face.Â
âYeah, Chef, I can do that.â Marcus nodded.Â
âThank you.â Carmen nodded. âAnd Chef? Let me know when itâs ready before you walk it.âÂ
Marcus frowned. âNo, itâs not- I just wanna walk it, ok?â Carmen shook his head.Â
âAlright.â Marcus nodded slowly. âHeard, Chef.âÂ
Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. âSo,â Richie hummed. âThere a complaint or somethinâ? Need me to go talk to âem-âÂ
â-No,â Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. âSorry, itâs- No, I-I donât need you to do that, Chef. Everythingâs good.âÂ
Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. âYou gonna tell me what that was about?âÂ
âNo, Chef.â Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. âBut, uh, thereâs not gonna be a check on table nine.âÂ
âWhat?â Richie frowned. âDid you mess somethinâ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong itâs my job to know-âÂ
â-No, itâs not-.â Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. âLook, thatâs⌠The girl on the end? I-Iâve been kinda seeinâ her, ya know?â He muttered.Â
Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. âNo shit.â He grinned. âNo shit? You-Youâre serious?â He turned to look out the window.Â
âDonât fuckinâ look.â Carmen hissed. âLook, it-itâs not a big deal, alright? Just donât-donât say anything o-or do anything.âÂ
Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger.Â
This time, Richie held back. He wasnât sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time.Â
âAlright.â Richie nodded slowly. âNo ticket for nine. Heard.âÂ
Carmenâs foot tapped anxiously. âI mean, right? Th-Thatâs what I should do right?â Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. âThat would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?âÂ
âYeah,â Richie scoffed lightly. âJagoff of the fuckinâ year. Makinâ your girl pay to come to your place.âÂ
Carmenâs heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl.Â
âWalk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.â Sydney called.Â
Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. âSo, you gonna take these out?â He muttered.Â
âNo,â Carmen huffed. âGonna wait until the cake.âÂ
âYeah, good idea, Cousin.â Richie nodded with a proud smile. âThat when youâre gonna tell them no check tonight?âÂ
âNo,â Carmen shook his head. âI donât- It would feel weird cominâ from me.â He looked up at Richie. âI was gonna let you do it.âÂ
âYeah, I can handle that.â Richie smirked. âAnd I wonât say anything, Cousin.â He stopped Carmen before he could say it. âI got you, Cousin. I wonât fuck it up, alright?âÂ
Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmenâs heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmen berzatto blurb#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy x you#carmen berzatto âx fem!reader#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x you#richie jerimovich#marcus brooks#sydney amadu#tina the bear#neil fak#sugar berzatto#carmy fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#the bear fic#carmy the bear#the bear fanfiction#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#thebearerblurbs
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take care of you
pairing: carmy berzatto x reader
summary: carmy obviously cares about the wellbeing of everybody who works at the bear, but itâs different with you. everyone realizes how crazy he is about you when almost loses his mind when you cut your hand.
word count: 1.8k
warnings: mentions of blood, stitches, and needles, but not too graphic
âEverybody still good and focused?â Carmy called out to the kitchen. âYes, chef,â the room echoed. The Bear was doing a test run for a special event. And a brand new menu always meant chaos at the Bear.
You were chopping away at vegetables, continuously looking up at the clock to stay on time.
You glanced up to check the time and got distracted by Richie bumping a container onto the floor. Only looking away for a second, the knife in your hand slipped and cut the palm of your hand.
âOh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,â you mumbled to yourself, in instant pain. Carmy heard you swearing over his shoulder and glanced over at you. First, he saw your face and could tell you were in pain. Then, he caught a glimpse of the red that was spreading on your hand. âOw, fuck. Carmy?â You called out, having no idea that he had already noticed.
âOh, shit,â he said, immediately turning off the stove and abandoning his station. He raced to your side, grabbing a towel and quickly wrapping it around your hand.
âYouâre okay, youâre okay,â he assured you. He grabbed your arm and started guiding you towards the big sink. âOut of the way, please. Give us some space, guys,â Carmy said, urgently.
He removed the towel from your hand. He turned on the water and stuck your hand under it. âSyd, I need the first aid kit quickly, please.â He called out. You saw Sydney quickly run towards the office.
Carmy noticed that youâd started breathing faster. âHey hey hey, look at me. Donât look at that. Just focus on me,â he said, noticing how frantic you looked. He knew that you were freaking out, and he could only calm you down if he remained relaxed.
âCarmy, it really fucking hurts.â You said, your voice cracking and tears welling up in your eyes. It almost broke Carmy to see you upset. He cared about you so much and hated seeing you in pain. âI know it does, but youâre doing great. Youâre probably gonna need some stitches, but Iâll take you after we get this cleaned and bandaged up, okay?â He told you.
You nodded your head, trying to focus on Carmy and not the throbbing pain in your hand. âDonât worry. Just take some deep breathes, okay? We canât have you passing out.â He instructed you. You started taking deep breaths, but you were still wincing in pain.
Carmy noticed the way your whole face tensed up. He grabbed your other hand and placed it on his forearm. âGo ahead. You can hold onto me and squeeze my arm if you need to. Iâve got ya,â he assured you. You felt calmer in Carmyâs presence.
Sydney returned with the first aid kit. Carmy quickly flipped it open and grabbed the supplies he needed. âI have to clean this before I bandage it. It might hurt a little, but just keep squeezinâ my arm.â He told you, grabbing some wipes.
You winced as he wiped your hand. âTell me about that book you were reading this morning.â Carmy suggested, trying to get your mind off the pain. You started talking to him, and you were much less focused on how much the wipes stung.
After, he bandaged your hand up, making sure it was secure. âIs your coat in your locker? Iâll go grab it.â He said, going over to your locker and grabbing your coat and bag for you.
âJust keep your hand still. I can do this.â He said, carefully slipping your coat over one arm and then the other. He threw your backpack over his shoulder because it had all your important things in it, like your phone, wallet, etc.
âYou donât have to carry that. I can do it.â You protested. Carmy shook his head. He wasnât going to let you lift a finger. âLet me take care of you.â He said, smiling at you. He looked genuinely happy to be able to take care of you.
He rested his hand on the small of your back. Richie tossed Carmy his car keys, and Carmy guided you back towards the parking lot. Carmy ran ahead of you, opening your car door for you.
âThank you, Carmy,â you said, smiling at him as you carefully got into the car. Before you could reach for the seatbelt, Carmy stopped you. âI got it.â He said, grabbing your seatbelt and clicking it into place.
He put your backpack into the back seat, and then got in the car. He quickly started the car and started to drive towards the hospital.
âYou still doing okay?â He asked after a few minute, looking over at you with a concerned expression. You quickly nodded your head. âYouâre doing so great.â He said, smiling at you and reaching over to hold your free hand.
âThank you for driving me and taking care of me back there.â You thanked him, sincerely. He looked over at you with a pure smile, giving your hand a quick squeeze. âOf course. Iâm always here for you. No matter what you need,â he told you. You felt so grateful to have Carmy watch your back. There was nothing Carmy would rather do more.
Once you got to the hospital, Carmy helped you out of the car and brought you inside. There was a long line to check in, so you both stood waiting. âThis fucking sucks, Carmy.â You said, resting your head on his shoulder.
He chuckled at your impatience. âI know. It shouldnât be that much longer. When we get out of here, Iâll bring you to the new ice cream place I was telling you about.â He told you, rubbing your back.
He watched how fast your expression changed once he mentioned ice cream. âI mean, I do think I deserve a treat after this.â You joked, making Carmy laugh.
You both finally got to the front of the line and checked in. The front desk worker handed you a clipboard with forms on it. âJust fill this out for us. Since thatâs the hand you write with, your boyfriend can fill these out for you.â They told you, handing the clipboard to Carmy.
You froze for a second, trying to process what they meant. âThank you,â Carmy said quickly, after noticing your surprise. He put his hand back on your back and guided you towards a chair to sit down in.
Carmy started filling out the forms for you with the information that he knew. âYou seemed pretty offended they thought I was your boyfriend.â Carmy teased, smirking at you.
âI was just surprised. Iâm sure youâd be a great boyfriend.â You said, trying to pretend like your heart hadnât skipped a beat when you heard the word boyfriend. Youâd had a not-so-subtle crush on Carmy for a while. You were genuinely surprised he hadnât noticed yet.
You both sat in the waiting room for a while. Carmy kept texting everyone at the Bear and updating them. Then, he played silly brain games with you to keep you distracted from the pain.
Finally, a nurse brought you back to a room. âSomebody should be right in here to get you stitched up.â The nurse told you and left.
âYou ever had stitches before?â Carmy asked you.
âI think Iâll seem more mysterious to you if I refuse to tell you.â You teased him. At this point, you both were pretty tired and therefore, getting pretty giggly. âOh, youâre going for mysterious now?â He asked you, chuckling.
You nodded your head, trying to hide your smile. âHas that not been coming across?â You joked.
The door flung open. âHi, Iâm Claire. Iâm gonna be yourâ ohâŚhey, you guys,â you both were met with a stunned Claire standing in the doorway. You could almost hear the way that Carmy was mentally cursing himself.
âOh hey, Claire,â you said, dragging out the words. Getting stitched up by your crush and bossâ ex-girlfriend was not how you thought youâd be spending your night.
She turned away from you both and set down her laptop on the counter. You glanced over at Carmy, trying to read his expression. âItâs fine,â he mouthed to you, giving you a fake smile.
Carmy sat down in the chair beside you, focusing all his attention on you and not Claire. She sat down on her stool and rolled towards you, putting on her gloves. âHowâve you been, Carm?â She asked, nervously looking at him.
He sheepishly nodded. âYeahâŚIâve been good.â He quickly replied.
You all were very aware of how awkward the situation was, so you all opted for silence. âYou did a great job bandaging this up.â Claire told you, as she unwrapped all the gauze.
Your gaze met Carmyâs. He waited for you to correct her and tell her he did it. You smirked at him, letting him know you werenât going to say a word. He jokingly made an offended face.
Claire missed the completely nonverbal conversation between the two of you.
She started cleaning your hand, and you winced. Carmy quickly grabbed your other hand and let you squeeze his hand. âSorry, that might sting a little.â Claire apologized.
Once she got to the actual stitches, you were in lots of pain. You tried to distract yourself. You looked around the room. You noticed the small lingering glances where Claire would look at Carmy. But his eyes never strayed from you.
âOh, fuck,â you swore under your breath as you felt a sharp pain. A tear rolled down your cheek. âItâs okay, youâre okay. Youâre doing so good.â Carmy quickly praised you, kissing the back of your hand and wiping the tears off your cheek.
Claire stalled for a second. She realized that this was more than just a boss bringing one of his employees to the E.R. She noticed the way Carmy jumped to comfort you.
âI didnât know that you guys were together.â Claire said. Carmy didnât make any move to correct her. âNo no, weâre not.â You said.
âDoing it again? It really sounds like youâre offended at the idea of being my girlfriend?â Carmy whispered to you, teasing you. You rolled your eyes at his teasing.
After Claire finished your stitches, she practically ran out of the room, not being able to handle the awkwardness anymore.
âThe stitches are definitely helping with the mysterious vibe. It suits you.â Carmy smirked at you.
âI know. Iâm really boosting your street cred by letting you hang out with me.â You returned the teasing. You felt more butterflies every time Carmy laughed at one of your jokes.
âSo, you still want to stop and get a little treat on the way home?â He asked, picking up your coat for you.
âI think I have a better idea for a treat.â You said. You used your one hand to cup Carmyâs face and pull him closer to you. You closed the distance and kissed him. He quickly kissed you back. Your coat fell out of his hands and as he rushed to wrap his arms around your waist.
You could feel Carmy smile against your lips. âQuit smiling and kiss me, Berzatto.â You teased him, earning a chuckle from Carmy as he leaned back in.
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Your writing is stunning! Can I request injured!reader and Carmy rushing to be by her side? god the idea of that man dropping everything to be with you....
this has been in my drafts for probably a year now. i forget why i was hesitant to post it. so hereâs something for you all :)
âHey, Cousinââ
âIâm in the middle âf something, not now, Richieââ
âHey.â He raises his brows, gives that serious look that has Carmenâs head peeking over his shoulder because itâs so sharp he can feel it. âItâs your girl. You wanna take this.â
He gets nervous, then, heart beginning to race. Whereâs his fuckinâ phone?
âGive it here,â he says, arm extended. Richie hands it over and slips out the door, shutting it to leave Carmen by himself in the office; it only makes hurt stomach lurch harder.
He lifts the phone to his ear. âHello?â
â. . . Carm?â Your voice is broken and wobbly, wrought with tears.
âBaby?â He doesnât even think before heâs jumping out of his chair, tucking the phone between his jaw and shoulder while he scrambles to find his keys. âBaby, you there? Where are you?â
âI-Iâm at the hospital, I tried calling youââ
âThe hospitalâ?â His mind goes back to New York, back to that morning. âWhatââ He takes a deep breath. His jacket. Where the fuck is it? âOkay, youâre okay, Iâm cominâ now, alright?â He storms out of the office toward the lockers, finds everything right where he put it, including his phone. Dead. Fuck. âI gotta hang up, okay? Iâm sorry, I know, I canât take the phone with me. Iâll be there soon, I promise.â
âO-Okay.â A shuddered breath rings through the line, and it kills him. âIâm okay, Carmyââ
âI know,â he says, shimmying into his jacket and feeling for his keys. âI know, baby, but Iâm cominâ anyway, you hear me? Gonna be there in ten.â
âOkay.â
âOkay. I love you.â
He doesnât put the phone back properly, just slides it across the counter and hopes it doesnât break again, shouting out orders over his shoulder on his way out the door.
The ride there is the longest ten minutes of his life. He doesnât know what to expect. He doesnât know anything at all, really. Are you hurt? How bad is it? What happened? Is it a burn, a broken bone, just a flu that got out of hand? Will you need surgery? Did you get in an accident? Did someone try to hurt you? He doesnât want you to be alone right now. He needs to be there with you. You were fine this morning. You were fine this morning, all beautiful and groggy when he kissed you awake, still cozied up in bed when he left early as the sky turned blue after sunrise. You were fine. You were fine, and then he left, and suddenly you werenât.
The fluorescent lights make him nauseous. Theyâre too bright, and a disgusting color, and too different from all the gentle lighting you insisted upon at home. Made the place homey, you said, and he agreed. The nurses at the station must think heâs out of his mind, all wide-eyed and asking for you.
âWhatâs your name?â the one asks him.
âCarmen, Iâm her fiancĂŠ, I wasâI was just on the phone with herââ
âOkay,â she nods, softening. âSheâs doinâ alright now, she was askinâ for you, though. Still gotta get her wrapped up, but youâll be outta here soon.â
Heâs too busy wondering What the fuck does that mean? to properly answer.
When heâs finally brought to your room, his nerves subsideâonly a little. Thereâs no blood, no bland hospital gown to say youâre headed off to the operating room. Just a pillow over your tummy, with your armâyour swollen, bruised armâresting on top of it.
âHey, hon,â he says, coming to your bedside and smoothing a hand over your forehead to press his lips to your temple. âYou alright? What happened?â
âTheyââ you sniffle when you look up at him, lip quiveringâ âThey had to take my ring off, Carmyââ he nods along to your rambling with a concerned browâ âI-I told them not to, but they said my hand was too swollenâthat-that it was gonna mess up my fingerâ. . .â
âWhatâs that, baby?â He smiles into your hair and exhales through his nose. So typical of you to get upset about something cute like that, he knows youâll be okay. âYour armâs all black ân blue, and youâre worried about your ringâ?â
âBut itâs specialââ
âShhhhh . . . I know, I know . . . âm just askinâ you to ease up.â Another kiss lands on your forehead before he asks, âWhereâs it at, baby? Iâll fix it for you.â
You pout and look somewhere behind him. âOn the table, but youâre not gonna be able toââ
âJust take a breath ân relax fâme, yeah? I got it.â
He stands upright again, turning to check that the ring is thereâthat beautiful, beautiful big diamond for his precious girl, before reaching toward the nape of his neck to unclasp his chain. Carefully, he threads it through the ring, silently urges you to sit up so he can hook it around your neck, icy-cool on your smooth skin, admiring the way it sparkles like your eyes.
Youâre still pouting when heâs done, and he kisses your soft lips anyway while he wipes away stray tears. âBetter?â
â. . . yeah,â you admit through a murmur.
âGood,â he huffs, pulling the visitorâs chair right next to your bed. With your good arm, you reach for him, just any part of him, and he holds your hand as he kisses your dry knuckles. âYou gonna tell me what happened now? Whatâs got you all banged up?â
And you groan and roll your eyes, insisting that itâs too embarrassing to tell, and he lets you drag it out just because he thinks itâs cute when youâre stubborn. The doctor comes in with the x-rays to confirm that, yes, indeed, youâve got yourself a broken arm, and after youâre splinted and discharged and given a sling and the next dayâs protocol, Carmen holds your good hand on the way out the door.
âOh,â you start, pausing before he opens the car door for you, âI forgot to tell you.â
âHm?â
âI drove here.â
âYou what?â
âI told you, I was embarrassed, Carmââ
âJesus fuckinâ Christ, baby,â he grunts, laughing and shaking his head with fingers running through his hair as he helps you into the passengerâs seat. âYouâre killinâ me today, yâknow that?â
And itâs not the last time. When he unlocks the front door and sees the laundry spilled all the way down the stairs, with a basket flipped upside down at the bottom, he can put the pieces together. He kisses you softly, doesnât say a word about it, takes you to the bedroom, and tucks you into bed to let you rest now that your adrenaline is wearing off and the pain meds are making you sleepy.
He fixes up the mess without a second thought, and once heâs done he slips right under the covers next to you, thanking whatever God there is that youâre okay, and that heâs got you back in his arms.
(And tomorrow, when he takes you into the doctorâs office for a proper cast, he has Natalie and Pete pick up your car. He still hounds on you about it weeks later, how you drove yourself to the hospital with a broken arm. You insist it makes for a good story, and to that he canât deny.)
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#jeremy allen white#carmy the bear#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto fic#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu
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okay but imagine carmyâs first time without the condomâď¸đ how heâd ask you if youâre sure so many times beforehand and when heâs finally inside he has to hold you still because damn! that feels almost too good! and itâs even worse if itâs the first time he cums inside too -đŤ
Carmy has you stripped naked within ten minutes of knocking your apartment door. You fall back on the mattress and watch as he quickly takes off his shirt and pants.
He crawls over top of you next, meeting your lips for a series of hot, messy kisses. Heâs still wearing his boxers, so you take it upon yourself to push down his waistband so he can kick them off. He groans into your mouth when you grip his cock and lightly stroke him, spreading precum down his length.
âNeed you to fuck me, Carm. Pleaseâdonât wanna be teased. Just need you.â Carmy usually insists on eating you out first, but you want him inside of you.
âY-yeahâIâll take care of you.â He pauses for a moment, realization hitting him. âShit! I donât have a condom.â
âI wasnât expecting you, or I would have bought some,â you giggle. He showed up tonight completely unannounced. He kissed you with hunger when you opened the door, making it clear what he needed from you.
âSorry, I uhâjust had to see you. Couldnât stop thinking about you all day at workâshitââ his voice falters as you stroke his dick again. More precum forms at his tip. âI can eat you out?â He offers.
âWant you, Carmy. Iâm on birth control, itâll be fine.â
You feel his cock pulse in your hand from your words.
âAre youâare you sayingââ
âPlease, Carm. I want you to fuck me.â
âFuckâare you sure? Shit, I can run down the block to the corner store if you want me to.â
By hooking a leg around his waist, you press Carmy in closer to you, lining him up with your entrance.
âMâpositive. Want you to fuck me. Please,â you beg. Carmy doesnât take much convincing, though. He sinks into you slowly. A broken gasp leaves his mouth as the head of his cock slips into you.
âFuck, fuck, fuck. Iâve neverânever done this without a condomâholy fuck, baby.â
âSâgood, Carmen. Filling me up so, so goodâshit,â you whine as he completely bottoms out inside of you. Heâs pulsing inside of you, and panting into your ear. You canât help but move you hips to feel his cock nudge against your walls.
âFuck. Stop. Stop moving,â he says through clenched teeth, gripping your hips to keep you still. âJustâjust give me a second.â
You know better than to press your luck, so you run your fingers through his hair as he rests his forehead on your shoulder.
âShitâsoâso wetâfuck,â he murmurs. âDidnât know it could feel like this. Mânot going to last long. Godââ
âCarmenâplease move. Pleaseââ you beg. âDonât care if you donât lastâwant you to fill me up.â
âHoly shit, baby.â You watch Carmyâs eyes go dark. He was planning on pulling out and cumming on your stomach, but now that option is off the table. You want him to pump you full of his cum, and that thought alone makes his cock twitch.
Once he starts fucking into you, Carmyâs pace is relentless. Heâs holding onto you for dear life, arms wrapped around your frame. Heâs not hiding his face in your neck, though. Heâs resting his forehead on yours so he can watch your face as you take his cock. Whenever heâs not kissing you, he has his bottom lip inbetween his teeth to contain the sounds of his moaning.
âSo tightâso fucking warm, baby. Perfect for me. God, youâre perfect.â
âCarmy, CarmyâI canâtâmâgonnaââ
âSoak my cock. Let me feel it,â he commands. He moves one of his hands to circle your clit with his thumb, and that sends you over the edge. Carmyâs pace grows sloppy and erratic. His forehead moves to rest on your shoulder, so he can look down and watch his cock thrust in and out of you.
The pulsing of your cunt around him with zero separation pulls a broken groan out of his lips, but heâs still trying to hang on for you. His hips fuck into you roughly, pounding into you hard and deep.
âCarmâcum in me. Fill me upâwanna feel you spill out of meââ you cry. He lets himself go at your words, biting into your shoulder as his hips press as far into you as possible. You feel him throb inside of you, filling you up with cum.
You both lay in bed for who knows how long to catch your breath. Carmyâs still inside of you, keeping you plugged up with his load. Heâs the first one to break the silence.
âBaby, I donât think I can go back to using a condom again after thatâ Iâll pay for you to get an IUD, or an implant, or whatever you want.â
âDeal.â
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#the bear#the bear fanfiction#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy smut#carmy the bear#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy bear#carmy x you
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youâre writing for carmy now omg iâm frothing at the mouth đ i love the trope where reader is quiet in bed and needs to be coaxed a bit but⌠i feel like it would be kind of hot if reader was the one coaxing carmy? đ no worries if youâre not feeling this one!
ty for requesting! â you teach the bear how to use his voice in the bedroom (new relationship, inexperienced!carmy, experienced!reader-ish, smut 18+)
bug's summer fic fest (â ęâ á´â ęâ )
Carmy never notices when heâs quiet. His head is always so loud in comparison â itâs easy to forget he isnât saying anything out loud when his mindâs constantly racing. He doesnât mean anything by it, though. Heâs just chronically observant. And painfully silent with it.
He lays on his back, pressed between unmade sheets and your warm body. The covers bunch at your bare hips as you roll in languid thrusts over his lap. A satiny summer breeze smooths over your burning skin from a cracked-open window. Every time the curtains billow, more of the moonlight peeks in. It drips in silver shades over your naked skin and your pretty face, now twisted in a look of undeniable pleasure â brows scrunched, eyes closed, mouth wide open.
Carmyâs tattooed hands rest impatiently on your hips. His fingers dig into the plush of them as he rocks you back and forth over his cock. You make pretty noises for him every time your clit brushes his coarse thatch of pubic hair, so he angles his hips just right to make sure you keep hitting that spot.Â
âCarmy,â you moan in a whimsical sigh that makes his chest swell. âJust like that. âS so good like that. Please donât stopââ
His face, made of dark shadows and sharpened edges, is pinched in a look of acute concentration. A distant feeling of deja veux swims in his stomach. It makes him wonder if heâs seen this in a painting before. One of those Renaissance types. The kinds that are harrowingly realistic and always heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a way.Â
It makes him want to draw you. Just as you are now. Head tossed back, mouth gently agape, lashes fluttering over glowing cheeks. He wouldnât be able to do any of it justice, but he tries to memorize the soft lines of your face, anyway.Â
Your hips slow to a stop. Reality hits him hard.
âWoah, woahâ Hey,â Carmy mumbles in protest, brows pinched in confusion when he comes down from the clouds. Through labored breaths that make his sweaty chest rise and fall, he wonders, âWhat happened? Whyâd you stop?â
His icy blue eyes dart over your face, searching for any sign of harm. In true Carmen Berzatto fashion, he immediately thinks heâs done something wrong â that he got too far in his own head and hurt you in some way without realizing. The anxiety is fleeting, but he feels the pinch of it anyway â right where your palm rests flat on his chest, just over his pounding heart.
âAre you okay?â you ask him, similarly panicked. Your bare chest sparkles with a thin layer of sweat and catches the moonlight with every uneven inhale.
Carmy nods rapidly, chestnut curls brushing the pillow. âYeah. Yeah, Iâmâ Iâm great. Why?â
You exhale a small sigh of relief, growing sheepish under his unwavering gaze. You feel a bit silly for stopping now. âYou just arenât⌠You arenât really, you know⌠saying anything,â you answer shyly.
âAm I supposed to be saying something?â
You giggle quietly to yourself until you realize heâs being genuine. Your smile ebbs as you stammer, âWell, no, itâs justâ Some people usually moan, I guessâ When they feel good.â
Carmy nods firmly in reassurance. âI feel good.â
âOkayâŚâ you nod back, slower and more unsure.Â
âI promise,â he tells you, tattooed hands squeezing your sides. He shifts nervously on the mattress, similarly victimized by your adoring stare. âI just⌠I just like watchinâ you, I guessâŚâ
A shy smile quirks the edges of your mouth as you peer down at the boy beneath you. âYouâre sweet, bear,â you coo in a honeyed murmur.
âYouâre sweeter,â Carmy insists. You think you see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips, but itâs hard to tell in the low light. âWanna taste?â he teases a second later.
Wordlessly, you bend down for another kiss, far too chaste for his liking. He almost says something about it until you roll your hips again. The words of protest disappear when he inhales sharply through his teeth.
âDoes that feel good?â you ask him.
He nods silently, squeezing your sides in a feeble attempt to move you faster on top of him.
âTell me.â
âFeels good,â Carmy obeys through gritted teeth.
The subtle assurance makes you moan â a pretty, breathy thing that spills accidentally from your opened mouth. All he can think about is getting you to make that sound again.Â
âDo you like it when I talk to you?â he wonders aloud, very innocuously curious.
You nod, brows furrowed as you grind over his lap. The bed frame squeaks quietly when you roll your hips forward. When you roll them back again, he can hear the faint sounds of your wet pussy â the quiet schlick-ing of his cock fucking into you. The two noises play one after the other in rhythmic tandem. The sinful sounds of sex.
Carmy racks his head for something to say in the not-so-silent meanwhile. You watch him get lost in his mind and cup his cheeks between gentle palms. âDonât think so hard about it, bear,â you say with a wavering smile. âYou donât have to say anything. Itâs okay.â
You duck down to kiss him again. The angle shifts. Carmy bends his knees and fucks up into you, mercilessly and without warning. Your mouth hangs open in another weak moan that fans across his chin.Â
âThat good?â he pants.
âYes,â you whine. âCarmyâ fuckâ Youâre so deepâŚâ
Babbles spill from your mouth in thinkless slurs. They tumble from your swollen lips with an admirable effortlessness, which Carmy has never thought himself to possess. He tries, anyway, to talk to you with such sinful ease.Â
âYouâre hugginâ me so tight,â he mutters through a clenched jaw. The very first thought to come to mind as the velvet confines of your cunt pulsate around him, squelching quietly in time with his thrusts. âCan feel you throbbinâ around me, babeâ Shitâ Itâs like a fuckinâ heartbeat.â
Your whine fills the quiet bedroom, adding to the symphony of bed squeaking and skin slapping.Â
Carmy shifts his hips upward. The new angle allows his cock to reach a spongy depth inside you and pins your swollen clit against his happy trail, which now glimmers with a layer of your honey.
âRight there?â he pants.
You nod wordlessly until the words catch up to you. The tip of your nose brushes the bridge of his. âYes,â you whimper.Â
His brutal thrusts pick up pace a second later, never wavering in their wicked pursuit. âLet me hit that spot,â Carmy mumbles to himself like a man crazed. âLet me hit that spot, let me hit that spot.â
Pleasure swells within you, overwhelmingly so. Itâs a warm and sparkling feeling in the pit of your stomach â a tightening coil, a fraying rope, a dam about to burst. The intensity of your inevitable orgasm frightens you.
âCarmyâŚâ you whimper.
âI know,â he nods sympathetically, right before he plants his feet on the mattress. He strengthens his thrusts, which have slowly started to lose their rhythm. âItâs okay. Câmon. Cum for meâ I can feel you fuckinâ drippinâ on me, babyâ Câmon.â
Your jaw clenches to fight back the scream clawing at your throat. It comes out in a pitiful whimper instead when you tense over his lap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves that leave you shaking, thighs trembling on either side of his hips.
Carmy goes accidentally silent once more as he watches you, swelling with pride as you reach the height of your pleasure. His light eyes flit over your features in a feeble attempt to memorize them â the furrow between your brows, the wrinkles beside your shut eyes, the spit-slicked sheen to your kissed lips.
Youâre painting brought to life. A heavenly thing he canât believe he gets to touch with unworthy hands.
âThatâs itâŚâ Carmy murmurs lowly. The words bubble in his throat and fall from his mouth mindlessly. He doesnât even have to think about them now. It just feels right to praise you like this. âThatâs it. There you go. So pretty⌠Always so pretty for me.â
As your body racks with aftershocks, you seek refuge in his arms. Your weight rests entirely upon him as your tense limbs slowly relax, but Carmy doesnât mind. He just wraps his tattooed arms around you and holds your trembling body closer.
âI got you,â he promises through labored breaths, chapped lips brushing your temple with every word. âI got you. âS okay. You did so good for me, baby. Thank you.â
You donât have the words to tell him that you should be the one thanking him.
#published by bug#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto#the bear#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#carmy drabble#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto fic#carmy x you#the bear drabble#the bear imagine
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Hi Jade ! I loove your sunshine!readers, could I request one for Carmy ? Maybe someone calls her to get to the restaurant when hes feeling anxious to calm him down idk if thats good lol love ya !
ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.4k
Is it The Beef or The Bear? In your head, despite the wishes of everyone who works there (except for Ebra, who seems to have mixed opinions), you always call it The Beef. But the sign brags otherwise, and when you push open the doors, nothing inside is left to remind you of the old restaurant. It was a total gut.Â
âHi, gorgeous,â says a familiar, warm voice.Â
You almost walk straight into her table, distracted looking for brown curls through the kitchen doorâs little window. âHey, Tina.â You grin at your second favourite chef. Your most favourite Sous. âYou taking a break?âÂ
She offers you a round butter cookie from a sleeve of them. Her cup of coffee billows with steam. âUh-huh.âÂ
âHiding from a meltdown?â you ask, taking a cookie, fingers oily with butter, sugar grains falling to the floor.Â
âItâs not like that,â she says.Â
Well, what is it like? you think.Â
Richieâs text wasnât exactly descriptive. Need ur help with the little Bitch, heâd said. Then, when you didnât answer, ASAP!!!!
You figured it mustâve been another rant. Heâs prone to these⌠episodes of anger where he doesnât realise heâs spinning out and hurting people who really care about him. You try to bring him out of it, but heâs a Berzatto. Theyâre all the same, sort of. Everything thatâs wrong with them has been stamped into them a long, long time ago.Â
Heâs been better since Nat steel armed him into AA, but still. You tilt your head to one side, sugar cookie between your fingers, listening for the goings on in the kitchen. âSydneyâs here?â you ask. âI thought she was sick.âÂ
âSydney gets sick, but she doesnât take sick days,â Tina says with a loving shrug.Â
You smile at her in brief goodbye for now and make your way to the kitchen, where you push in quietly. All their âBehind!â and âCorner!â and âHands!â makes you laugh, and you canât take it seriously so you donât, but youâre not trying to be dangerous in there either.Â
âHello?â you ask.Â
Sydney and Richie look up from a cramped notebook at the table nearest to the door. There are employees you're unsure of prepping vegetables along the wall, but Carmy isnât anywhere to be seen.Â
âFucking finally,â Richie says, before rubbing his face regretfully. âIâm sorry, itâs justâ I texted you an hour ago, babe, youâre letting me down.âÂ
You laugh. âSorry, babe,â you tease. âI have a job, just like you.â Your hands are cold where you tuck them under each armpit, crossing your arms. âHi, Sydney. You feeling okay?âÂ
âNo. Heâs stressing me out.âÂ
âWhich one?âÂ
âBoth of them.â She looks like she might rub her face too. âI need him to be in here right now, he should be doing this, but he keeps walking away andâ and not saying where heâs going.âÂ
âHe is stressful,â you agree, though usually Carmyâs stress tends to bounce right off of you, âIâm gonna find him and strap him down for you.âÂ
Sydney just frowns.Â
âIâll see whatâs up,â you say more seriously. âIn the office?âÂ
âOut the back,â Richie says. âSmoking like his mother. Heâs a fucking steam train lately.âÂ
Itâs like they want to worry you. You give them grateful nods, sorry nods, and start to make your way out of the main kitchen, past the dishwashers and the dessert station to one of the back doors. Carmy isnât your responsibility. You donât have to apologise for him, you donât have to mother him, he should commit to his responsibilities all on his own, but⌠itâs hard. You like apologising for him because his behaviour isnât always on purpose, and he struggles with commitment for similar reasons. Thereâs this aching, stagnated grief in him thatâs reawakening, thereâs the stress of the restaurant, his business, the scars of the last ten years, and before that. You know it isnât your job to come here and make him feel better, but isnât it? When you love someone, itâs half the deal.Â
Carmy shouldnât yell at his friends, or employees. He shouldnât chain smoke, and he shouldnât be sitting on the low wall by the dumpsters shaking so hard with his head so low that you can see the first notch of his spine in his shirt.Â
âCarmy?â you ask.Â
His head ducks further down. You can hear him breathing, not too hard as to alarm you, and yet unrelaxed.Â
You smile without thinking. You hate seeing him like this, but looking after him is a pleasure. âHey, Carmen. Can I sit with you?âÂ
He forces his face up. âWhat are you doing here?â he asks.Â
Trying to make sure he doesnât tear another chunk out of Richie. âItâs my lunch break.âÂ
You perch on the wall beside him and snap your nearly forgotten cookie into two pieces, one side bigger than the other, which you offer him.Â
Carmy takes it. Looks at it without expression, though that slowly turns to a dry ire youâve felt directed your way a hundred times. âWhat the fuck is this?âÂ
âCookie.âÂ
âI donât want this.âÂ
âCould you just eat it?â You put your own half in your mouth in its entirety, all aligned to your teeth. It shatters into sweet, soft crumbs between your teeth. You talk with a hand over your mouth, âItâs not gonna kill you.âÂ
Carmy looks at it for a long time before he eats it.Â
You watch him. Heâs more tan than youâd think, that Italian gene kicking in, skin clinging to whatever sunshine it finds. He spends enough time inside that youâre surprised it can muster the energy. He looks better with it though, his curls look gold toned under the sun, and his clenched jaw doesnât seem so harsh.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â you ask eventually. Almost conversationally.Â
âNothing.â His hand shakes on his thigh. He turns his palm down to clasp his knee.Â
âYou sure?âÂ
âNo.âÂ
âThat oneâs my favourite.âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
You poke toward a tattoo on his hand. Itâs a simple flower, same style as most of his tattoos. âI like it âcos itâs just a flower.âÂ
âMy least pretentious,â he guesses.Â
âSomething like that.âÂ
He tips his head back.Â
âRichie texted me. He thinks Iâm gonna⌠like, Iâm gonna calm you down, I guess.âÂ
âYou always do,â he says.Â
You give him a long, smiley look. âSo youâre in love with me?â you ask warmly, pushing up into a knee to wrap your arm behind him, hugging him before he can move away. âYouâre totally fucked for me, Berzatto, thatâs fucking crazy.âÂ
âFuck off,â he laughs.Â
You rub his arm, his skin hot in your hold. He touches your waist very, very lightly. âWhat am I supposed to do, anyway? I canât cook. You and Syd are on your own.âÂ
âYou already⌠already did enough.â He grabs your waist where you wobble on the brick wall, grit biting your knees, his hand comparatively soft.Â
âSuch a crush on me,â you tease in a whisper, his hair crushed under your cheek.Â
Youâre tempted to kiss his temple, but affection with Carmy is like oil and water sometimes. You give him a last protective squeeze and sit yourself down again.Â
âCarm,â you say, âyou know you can call me, right? Like, if you donât feel okay.âÂ
âYeah. Yeah, I know.âÂ
âOr text me. If thatâs easier. Itâs hard to say hard things out loud.âÂ
He laughs again. âSorry.âÂ
âI know, I donâtâ I donât seem like I know what youâre talking about, I get it, but I do understand. Nâ even if I didnât, I donât mind listening. Or laughing at you.âÂ
âWhatâs that about?âÂ
âThe laughing?â you ask. âYou tell me.âÂ
His hand slides behind your back in half a hug. âGuess itâs funny.âÂ
âCan I change my mind about the tattoo?âÂ
âThe flowers not your favourite?âÂ
âNo. You know which one I like best?âÂ
His thumb rubs into your back. âThe snail.âÂ
âAbsolutely the snail. Youâre so fucking silly sometimes, Iâm supposed to take you seriously when youâre yelling and red in the face with a snail on your arm?âÂ
You canât see his face with your cheek to his shoulder, wonât know that heâs smiling at you with a rare aura of peace. Canât see the wanting, either.Â
#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x y/n#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto fic#carmy berzatto blurb#carmy berzatto drabble#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto fanfic#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy x reader#carmy#carmy x you#carmy blurb#carmy drabble#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto blurb#carmen berzatto drabble#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto fanfic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#the bear#the bear fanfiction#the bear fic
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You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair on her opening night.
Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig.
Bad thing: you've been avoiding the Berzatto family since the funeral.
pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader, but also like, reader's friends with the entire crew (esp Richie, Syd & posthumously Mikey), so if you're just here for the platonic fun of those dynamics, pls enjoy!
tasting notes; slowest of slow burns, semi-strangers (you'll see) to friends to lovers. lot of hurt/comfort. there will be angst, cause it's FX's The Bear.
portion; in progress!!
recommended listening; handmade spotify playlist.
faq; if you got some Qs
kofi; tip your repairman! if you want.
possible allergies; fully spoils the entire series (par for season 3, as I'm writing this ahead of release, so, p.s if you're from the future: off-canon). I've never written smut before and I couldn't tell you if I'm gonna be willing to try by the end of this-- So if that's your thing, temper thine expectations! Mikey is very central to the reader's background-- which is also quite padded, so def prep the brain for a more in-depth look at his passing and struggles w/ addiction. No Y/N, just a FUCK ton of nicknames.
TABLE OF CONTENTS A.K.A REPAIR INVOICE
Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix
Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair
Pretty. | Bolting Down Booths
I Want To. | Wellness Check
Where To? | Delivery Fees
Doing Too Much. | House Call
The Other Shoe | Consultation
Carved In. | Separate Invoice
Ad Interim. | No Service
Zero Pulse. | Oven Hotfix
Just Dropped. | Missing Invoice
Something to Do. | Catering
Two Steps Back. | Advanced Payment
Don't Say It. | Closing Out
Loosen Your Grip. | R & D (FINALLY!!)
Repairman's got reduced hours now, call back later.
#i was told i should make onea these#masterlist#the bear fanfiction#the bear fx#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x you#landingpage#carmen berzatto x female reader
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Silence
prompt: ( requested ) anxiety plays tricks on your mind, making you mistake your boyfriend's stress for anger - at you.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 2.5k+
note: it's short but to the point.
warnings: cursing, hurt and comfort, depiction of mental health: anxiety, slight self-destructive thoughts.
Silence could be a good thing.
Libraries were silent for ample focus. Theaters were silent during the showing. Sometimes, long drives were peacefully silent.
Silence could also be a bad thing.
Demanding an explanation and the silence stretches. The silence before a doctor delivers life-changing news. Asking someone if they're okay and they don't answer.
When your boyfriend, Carmy, had returned from work that evening, he slammed the front door, dropped his backpack, toed out of his shoes, and stormed around the apartment silently. He didn't greet you, didn't offer a kiss, nothing - just breezed past you as if a pile of dirty laundry he's ignored for the past two weeks. You watched him from the kitchen, sipping a glass of wine, worry sprouting in your gut and chest. It was obvious something was bothering him - but couldn't fathom what it was that made him ignore you; to make him not look at you one single time.
It was like you weren't even there with the way he projected his moodiness. Even on his worst days, he always always always greeted you with a kiss; but the lack of affection hallowed your chest into a pit, wondering what you had done to make him avoid you.
Suddenly, the silence was eerily deafening, coiling your stomach and pumping lead through your veins; no TV or radio switched on to fill the void and create passive, background audio. Carmy was obviously upset about something, but the fact that he didn't even look at you made you think he didn't want to talk. This worried you because before dating, you and Camry Berzatto were the best of friends; talking about literally any and everything you could think of. He came to you with every single grievance, every frustration, every slice of drama - so why wouldn't he now?
Unless... Unless you were the cause of his annoyance? The idea made the pit in your chest stretch to your gut - anxiety rapidly spreading, confusion warping rational thought into something darker and self deprecating. The idea of upsetting Carmy - or anyone, for that matter - was enough to bubble nausea and turn your skin clammy. Muscles tensed, eyes darted, and your mind was plagued with every single thing you had said or done in the past 16 hours.
However, your memory couldn't pinpoint any moment you could've upset him; things had been normal and easy-going lately, there being no clear indication you were the culprit of Carmy's anger. However, there didn't need to be anything clear because your mind was fully convinced you were the bad guy now.
After swallowing a gulp of wine, your eyes adverted to give him privacy and begin on dinner; being obvious that his phone was much more important than you right now. Unfortunately, when it came to picking which sauce to dress your meal with, you were forced to slowly enter the living room where your boyfriend had taken refuge.
"Hey, baby?"
"Hmm?"
You tried not to be offended by his lack of verbal acknowledgement, but your intestines flipped and grew heavy. "Uh, just wondering, you want the marinara or Alfredo tonight with the - "
"Doesn't matter, you choose."
"I mean, which would you prefer?"
"I just said it didn't matter," he repeated with a hardening tone, "it's not like it's a difficult decision to make."
You didn't want to make his attitude worse, so you backed off silently and returned to your task. Yes, yes, Carmy was the professional cook between you but that didn't mean he wanted to come home and continue the act. So, you learned a few new recipes to keep meals interesting - a feat your boyfriend didn't seem to appreciate or even recognize most days. Tonight especially.
Tension tangibly filled the apartment the longer the silence stretched. Your mind conjured a hundred questions at once, begging your mouth to run rapidly if it meant getting answers - yet your logic stuck the words in your throat, refusing to let them fly, and even shoving them deep down for your soul to hold.
You poured a second glass of wine, throat thickening with silent emotion. There was always the worry in the back of your mind that Carmy would one day realize you didn't fit into his life and would break up with you. Or that perhaps, his irritation tonight wasn't due to anything you did specifically, but instead, was attested to your normal behavior and quirks - like the want to talk throughout the day.
Blinking the moisture away, you remembered Carmy hadn't answered a single one of your texts the entire day - a normal act for you, but maybe one that now got on your boyfriend's nerves. You dished up dinner, standing in the open kitchen with two plates and feeling silly for the nerves prickling your skin. You barely noticed the slight tremor in your hands. "Dinner's ready, Carm," you alerted, leaving the plates on the kitchen island you normally ate at; distracted by the need to pour a glass of water.
When you turned, your heart stalled in your chest when you noticed his plate missing - locating him in the living room, again, and it being obvious he didn't intend to eat with you. Now you knew for sure, you had indeed done something. So, you gingerly took a seat and tried to take up as little space as possible; shying in on yourself, eating silently and quickly so you could do the dishes right after.
Sure, there was usually the rule that the cook didn't clean, but there was no way you were gonna ask Carmy to do the simple chore; afraid of pushing him over whatever edge he teetered at. After storing any leftovers, you started the dishwasher and retreated to your bedroom with another glass of wine and the intention to get a bath. You felt like a glaring inconvenience all of a sudden, regret inking your blood and reprimanding yourself for being so - so - so... Clingy?
Is that what it was? Did Carmy think you were clingy? Perhaps texting him throughout the day without him ever answering was the final straw of annoyance he felt toppled the haystack. You wanted to apologize and eliminate the tension, but couldn't necessarily understand what you were sorry for; thinking you were simply paying attention to him, being attentive and interested in his everyday life.
Maybe you needed to apologize for being suffocating? Was that it? Your love was suffocating him? Was he feeling pressured by you? Did he think you two too comfortable in this relationship? Was your wall of texts an indication you were more serious than he? Oh, God, was that it - did Carmy think you were getting too serious, too fast?
Granted it'd been a few years of dating, a lifetime of friendship before that - so how much more serious could you get? Why would your attempts of communication rub him the wrong way? How could the pair of you ever manage to fall off from the same page? Make him think you were pushing for something more? Didn't he know he was enough for you? Didn't he appreciate your presence? The want to be closer? Your desire to maintain the friendship your relationship was built off of? The appreciation you had for him? The support you wanted to offer?
You soaked in epsom salt for the better part of half an hour. Draining the tub, drying off, and changing into pajamas were done silently; feeling almost fearful to venture out of the bedroom to return your wine glass to the sink.
So you decided to just get in bed, figuring if Carmy was so angry at you that it resulted in him ignoring you, he wouldn't want to sleep beside you, either. With your thick framed glasses on, you nestled into bed with your newest novel, trying not to let your mind go into overdrive as your need to fix whatever was upsetting Carmy was overwhelming. Yet there was also the nagging idea that trying to fix whatever was 'broken' would've made things worse - again, resulting in you doing nothing and giving Carmy his space.
The silence haunted the apartment like a ghostly presence; leering over your heads, embracing you uncomfortably.
When the bedroom door opened, you masked your surprise and just read the same paragraph three times in a row - distracted by your boyfriend milling around, preparing for bed. Your eyes widened in shock when the bed dipped and shifted, jostling you as Carmy got into bed beside you, but you still didn't look up from your book.
"What're you reading, sweetheart?"
His mood swings often gave you whiplash. You glanced at Carmy, finger holding your place to let you fold the book over and present the title on the cover. You worried that anything you said and did could make this tension fester, so, you remained silent and went back to reading.
"Is it any good?" He pondered, watching your profile. You nodded mutely, lips slowly rolling between your teeth in a show of anxiety Carmy could now recognize. "Hey, hey, you all right, babe?" He asked softly, sounding mildly confused - perhaps even alarmed.
"Yeah, 'course," you mumbled.
"Well, how was work?"
"Fine."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
There was a brief pause, then Carmy gently pried, "C'mon, baby, what's wrong? Why're you so quiet?" He chuckled gently, "Usually so talkative in the evenings."
You offered him a bewildered look with slightly pinched brows, swallowing nervously and slowly shutting your book to trace the spine mindlessly in an effort to distract yourself. Typically when anxious, your hands needed stimulation, something tangible to do and feel when your mind numbed with nervousness.
With a great deal of bravery, more than you thought was necessary to muster when talking to the person you love, you asked softly, "Are you mad at me, Carm? I mean, did I do something? T-To upset you?"
"Wait, what?" He asked in confusion. "Nah, baby, you didn't do anything, why would you even ask?"
"'Cause you've been ignoring me...?"
He scoffed, "Ah, 'cause I didn't answer your texts?"
"That, and you've been ignoring me in favor of your phone since you got home. Slamming doors, brooding in the living room, didn't eat dinner with me - got a little snappy when I asked what sauce for dinner? Feels like I did something but I don't know what, so I don't know how to fix this."
Carmy sighed, leaning back to the mound of soft and fluffed pillows you had stacked on your shared bed. "Shit," he breathed, huffing a dramatic sigh, "didn't even realize I was doin' all that, baby."
"If you're mad, just tell me what I did - "
"No, no, hey, hey, hey, hey," he rushed, turning on his side to look at you, elbow supporting his weight; clocking the glassiness coating your eyes. "You didn't do anything, baby, I swear. There's nothing for you to fix 'cause you didn't do nothin'. I just - I've been havin' a shit day, didn't realize I was bein' mean to you let alone that you'd take it to heart."
"Kinda hard not to when I'm the only one here."
"No, right, I get that," he sighed. "I'm sorry, baby, I know you get anxious when I shut down like that, but I promise, I'm not mad at you."
"Well, who else would you be mad at? I thought you were annoyed 'cause I was texting you all day. Thought I was, I don't know, being clingy or something since you didn't answer me."
Carmen frowned, "Sweetheart, no, hang on, listen to me. You didn't do anything to upset me, okay? I didn't answer you 'cause I dropped my phone in the sink and it got all glitchy, I couldn't answer you. I tried to fix it when I got home, but I think I fried it - should just get a new one. It was just one of those days that everything went to shit, it all built up, got the better of me."
You nodded, still looking dejected and making a shot of guilt plunge his heart. "You usually talk to me when you're upset," you pointed out softly, "and when you didn't say anything, I thought I was the reason you were upset. Figured you wouldn't talk to me if I did something to cause your attitude."
"No, hey, I'm sorry, c'mere, baby," he opened his arms and curled them around you when you shuffled into his chest. "Shit, I'm really sorry, I didn't even realize what I was doing - but Goddamnit, that's no excuse, though. I don't mean t'take my shit out on you, you don't deserve that."
"I just got a little nervous, maybe let my anxiety get the better of me."
"That's okay," he promised, kissing your forehead, "I can understand why. I was a dickhead, being snappy and ignoring you when all you do is support and love me. I'm real sorry, sweetheart," he sighed against your skin, tightening his arms to keep you cocooned in his warmth. "You know, you can always talk to me - don't gotta shut yourself down and avoid me."
"Do you even hear yourself? Should take your own advice."
"Yeah, I should," he smirked. "Hey, promise I'll do better not to shut down like that."
You nodded in acceptance, wondering softly, "Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever happened today?"
"Uh, nah, you know what? Think I owe you some cuddles, maybe a dessert? You know, to make up for my bullshit attitude."
"You don't have to - "
"I got you all worked up, feels like the least I can do."
With a hum, you smirked, "I won't say no to a slice of cheesecake."
"What baby wants, she gets," he grinned, a hand caressing your cheek to direct your eyes up to his. His thumb swept back and forth under your eye, "Still sorry about today. I didn't mean to be such an oblivious dickhead, I swear."
You nodded, "I know, baby. Just don't shut me out next time. Had me worried when you didn't even kiss me when you got home."
"A heinous crime on my part," Carmy smirked. "Should I remedy that?"
"I'd be offended if you didn't."
He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours in a soothing kiss, hand sliding to the back of your neck. It was a slow and languid kiss, something he took his time in engaging; lips sticking together, moving in-sync, creating chains of saliva when he pushed his tongue against yours. "Yeah," he mumbled, "I'm the dumb fuck who had you thinkin' I didn't want this from you." He pressed another kiss to your waiting lips, "You're intoxicating, baby - always want your kisses. Yeah? Always. The day I don't, take me out back like Old Yeller."
You wanted to voice that he wanted your kisses now until one day, he simply wouldn't - but refrained from doing so because you knew it was just anxiety talking. So, instead, you chuckled at his comment and leaned in to initiate your own kiss.
requesting rules and masterlist
FX's The Bear masterlist
#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#carmy x reader#carmy#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto fic#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto x female!reader#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x f!reader#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x oc#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x female reader#carmy berzatto x female reader#carmen berzatto x oc#carmy the bear#the bear carmy#carmy berzatto fluff#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu
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Pity Party.
Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader
Word Count - 3k
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.
"You're back early."
Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.
"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.
"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.
"You wouldn't even believe."
He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.
Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.
"You wanna talk about it?"
You think for a moment before replying.
"You're gonna laugh at me."
His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.
"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."
He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.
"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"
"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.
"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"
"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."
He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.
"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."
"I'll hold you to that."
You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.
"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."
"And then?"
"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."
He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Tell me more."
"You really want to hear about all of this?"
It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.
"Of course I do."
His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.
"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."
Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.
"What the fuck?"
You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.
"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"
"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."
Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.
All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.
"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."
Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.
"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."
You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.
"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."
Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
"Wh-... what?" you choke out.
"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."
His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.
"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.
Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.
"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."
His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.
"Okay."
He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."
"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."
"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."
He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.
"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.
"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"
You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.
"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."
"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."
He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.
"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."
"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."
Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.
Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.
Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.
"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.
Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.
"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.
You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.
"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."
He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.
"Give me a color, pretty girl."
You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.
"Green, Carmen. Promise."
You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.
You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.
"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."
"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.
He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.
"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."
Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.
Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.
"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."
His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.
Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.
"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."
With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.
"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"
You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.
Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.
After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.
"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"
You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.
Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.
He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.
"Doin' so good for me."
"You got it, honey, that's it."
"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."
"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."
"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."
All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.
"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."
You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.
"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"
The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.
"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."
"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.
"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."
You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.
"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."
Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.
Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.
"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.
"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.
You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.
"I know you didn't mean it."
"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"
"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."
You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.
You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.
"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."
"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.
"Come on, trouble."
He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.
The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.
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could use a push |carmen berzatto x reader|
prompt: sometimes carmen needs persuasion to finish his tasks. sometimes you have to persuade him.
part of the carmen x social media manager au. the two other works follow me and fall into me can be found here <3
contains: smut. slight voyeurism-ish?? oral male receiving. super sweet and smutty. social media manager!reader. carmen hates doing tasks lol.
âCarmen,â Sydney turned, carrying a large tray of vegetables that needed to be prepped, expertly dodging the other chefs working on the line. Carmen gave a huff of a grunt, not bothering to look up from his own prep, too in the zone.Â
âChef,â Sydney huffed, firmer this time, catching his attention when the tray smacked on the counter next to him. âSomeoneâs in the office for you.âÂ
âMe?â Carmen blinked, brows pulling in a deep frown. âNo, not fâme-âÂ
â-Yes, for you, Chef-âÂ
â-No, thatâs Richieâs job. Cousin,â Carmen leaned back, shouting towards the swinging doors.Â
âCarmen, will you- thereâs someone in the office for you. Ok? Theyâre here for you, not Richie.â Sydney muttered, shaking her head in annoyance.Â
Carmen paused, looking at Sydney. âWhatâre you doinâ?â He asked.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âNo, whatâre you doinâ?â Carmen repeated, eyes narrowed at her skeptically. âNo-No one should be in my office. Iâm not doinâ the interviews for bussers, thatâs Richie, so whoâs in the office? Hm? Whatâs goinâ on?âÂ
âNothingâs goinâ on, jeez.â Sydney rolled her eyes. âThere is someone in the office for you.âÂ
âYeah? Is it-itâs Fak? Is he fuckinâ with me? Gonna walk in there and what? Gonna spray some shit on me like weâre fuckinâ fourteen-âÂ
â-What? No.â Sydney frowned. âI donât- Look, I was told not to tell you whoâs in there because itâs a surprise, ok? Itâs not bad. Just- Can you go in there? I donât know why they asked me to do this, but Iâm clearly not good at the whole surprise thing, so just do me a favor and go see for yourself.âÂ
Carmen huffed, wiping his hands on the clean towel next to him, craning to see his office from his spot. He looked at Sydney with a deadpan expression. âIf I get sprayed with some shit, Chef.âÂ
Sydney rolled her eyes in annoyance, turning to pass the prep to the chef beside her. Carmen looked carefully to see if anyone around him was lurking, hiding in the shadows to watch him get ambushed so they could have a laugh. He felt like he was twelve again, Richie and Mikey always fucking with him so heâd get red faced and embarrassed just so they could laugh at him.Â
Twisting the knob to the office, Carmen let the door fall open before he stepped towards it. Thankfully, there were no signs of shit falling from the ceiling, nobody hiding in the shadows. Instead, sitting in his office chair was a much more pleasant surprise- you.Â
âHey,â Carmenâs face lit up, lips curling in a greeting. âWhat- I didnât know you were cominâ today.âÂ
âI decided to surprise you.â You smiled back. âAmbush you, really.âÂ
âAmbush?â Carmen snorted lightly, shutting the door behind him. âWhatâre you ambushinâ me for?âÂ
You stood, letting your arms wrap around his waist in greeting, lips brushing his before he took your mouth in his fully, kissing you sweetly just like he had this morning. âMm,â You sighed, pulling back quicker than Carmen would have liked.Â
âI came to ambush you for content.â You batted your eyes sweetly at him, feeling his shoulders fall under your touch. âBecause you were supposed to let me shoot the new menu items this week and you still havenât.â
âBaby,â Carmen huffed, pulling a hand away from the small of your back to rub over his forehead. âI-I donât- Why do I have to be in them?âÂ
âBecause people want to see you, Carm.â You glared at him lightly. âThey see Marcus and Tina and Sydney all the time, and they want to see you too. Youâre the head chef.âÂ
âYeah, but-but why? Itâs so fuckinâ stupid.â Carmen grumbled, huffy already, the start of a bickering fight youâd had a million times before. To say Carmen was camera shy was an understatement.Â
âWhy is it stupid?â You put your hands on your hips. âPeople want to feel connected. They want an inside look. They want to feel like they know you and theyâre a part of something. Thatâs what gets people to come.â It was the same argument, every time. Carmen knew it, he understood it, he just⌠Well, he didnât like it.Â
âIâll prompt you on everything to say,â You grabbed at him, trying to coo at him, coax him into finally letting him do your job. It was easier before the two of you were dating, before he was comfortable, when heâd suck it up in the name of professionalism.Â
âAll you have to do is cook me a dish, and answer my questions, and thatâs it! Itâll be done in no time, and you can pick whichever one you want from the summer menu.â You ran a hand soothingly down his arm, over his toned bicep, trying not to drool at the definition.Â
You could feel Carmen swaying already, turning into your touch, teetering on relenting. âDoes it have to be a video?â Carmen grumbled, looking at you with pleading eyes. ââM already behind and I-I need to do some prep, and-âÂ
â-Donât lie to me.â You frown at him. âI asked Sydney before and she said you were all caught up for the day. Ahead, actually.â You lifted a brow in challenge.Â
Carmen huffed, turning to look over his shoulder, cursing Sydney in his head. âI know your games, Berzatto.â You poked his tummy lightly, trying to lighten his mood with playfulness. The last thing you needed was him to be so sulky during the filming, ruining the content. âKnow all your tricks, so donât even try them.âÂ
Carmen let out a half huff, lips pursing in a tight line in defeat. He was so pouty, petulant, really, but you decided against teasing him about it.Â
âOne video?â Your hand slid up his chest, cupping his cheek gently, pulling his eyes back to yours, heart fluttering when his gaze was on you. âOne video and⌠and Iâll make it up to you.âÂ
Carmenâs heart stuttered, leaping with excitement he tried to swallow down. âYeah? Make it up to me how?â He muttered, voice dropping low to a near gravel.Â
Your lips twitched, pulling at the corners of your mouth in a wicked, triumphant smile. âIf you do the video for me today,â You purred, slowly pulling away, slinking towards the door. âIâll owe you something later. Whatever you want.â Your lashes batted in suggestive playfulness. Â
Carmenâs palms itched with excitement, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. âYeah?â He tried to keep his voice steady, keep it from cracking to show his eagerness. âW-Whatâd you have in mind?âÂ
You shrugged sweetly, clicking the lock on the door. âOh, thatâll be up to you, Chef.â You grinned, Carmenâs posture going rigid with thrill.Â
âBut if you promise after this youâll do my video,â You stepped towards him, toe to toe with each other, though neither touched the other. âIâll give you a little taste of what I had in mind for later.â Â
Carmen swallowed, nodding furiously. Heâd blame the blood rushing from his brain to his cock as the reason he agreed so easily, the reason he was persuaded without much fight. You lifted your brows in an amused question.Â
âYeah? Youâll do it for me?â You tilted your head to the side gently.Â
Carmen nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. âYes, fuck, yeah. I-Iâll do it.âÂ
You grinned, sliding your hands down his arms, towards his torso. âThank you, baby.â You hummed sweetly. âYou want me to give you a little sneak peek of what I had in mind for tonight? A little thank you for now?âÂ
Carmen bobbed his head furiously, swallowing a shudder when your hands slid over his lower belly, slowly towards his waistband. âYou want me to give you a little taste then?â You whispered, a purr in your tone that had Carmen throbbing, aching behind the zipper of his jeans.Â
âPlease,â Carmen croaked, jaw tight trying desperately to stay quiet.Â
You grinned triumphantly, hand sliding and cupping over his bulge, palming him through his jeans. âAlright, since you asked so nicely.â You batted your lashes at him, holding his gaze as you sank to your knees in front of him. âIâll give you a taste.âÂ
Carmenâs head tipped back in pleasure, swallowing a breathy moan that threatened to escape, eyes darting around the small space of his office. The door was locked, the blinds shut, but still he had a nagging fear that Richie or Sweeps or someone would bust through the door, catching the two of you in the act. His veins pricked with tingling excitement at the thought, heartbeat thudding in his ears when he looked down at you through his lashes, watching you pull him from his boxers, pumping his length.Â
âMm,â You moaned quietly, soft lips pressing even softer, feather-like kisses up his shaft.Â
âDo-Donât tease me, baby.â Carmen whispered, voice tight in a groan. You looked up at him innocently, eyes rounded sweetly. âPlease.â Carmen added.Â
âI wonât.â Your breath ghosted over his cock, leaving him shivering at the sensation. The pad of your thumb swiping over his already leaking head, spreading his release around. âIâll make it quick. Just relax, Carm. Iâve got you.âÂ
Carmen slid a hand over his mouth, muffling a moan when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue swirling around the head. His teeth sank into his knuckles, head tipping back towards the ceiling at the sensation.Â
âOh, fuck, fuck, fu-uck.â Carmen muttered, your free hand pumping his length, slowly taking his tip past your warm lips. Your eyes stayed on him the entire time, rounded and eager to please, eager to watch him be pleased.Â
Carmenâs free hand moved to the top of your head, cradling it gently as you sucked him off, cupping his balls and massaging them. Youâd always been so good at this. Heâd told you that from the beginning, heart nearly exploding when youâd smiled sheepishly and asked him, âreally?â in the sweetest voice heâd ever heard.Â
From then on, Carmen had never failed to sing your praises- in anything you did, but especially when you gave him head. Now, he fought back the urge to groan loudly, to look down at you and say filthy, sweet things that would have you squirming, thighs rubbing together. Anywhere else but here, he would have, but he couldnât risk the others hearing.Â
Instead, he moved his hand to cup your cheek, hollowed and full with his length, thumb brushing over your cheek bone sweetly. âYouâre makinâ me feel so fuckinâ good, baby. S-So fuckinâ good.â Carmen rasped, clenching his hips to keep them from bucking when you moaned around his lengths, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core. He was close, you both knew it.Â
You pressed the pad of your thumb gently down the seam of his balls, hitting a sweet spot Carmen didnât even know existed until he met you, a breathy whine of a moan catching in his throat.Â
ââM close, baby. âM- Like really fuckinâ close.â Carmen whispered, brain beginning to fog, ears starting to buzz with a dull ringing that always came with his orgasms.Â
You picked up speed, head bobbing at a fast rate, up and down his length, swallowing him further and further, gagging when you took him a little too far. You always looked at him with embarrassment, a little sheepish when youâd do that, like he didnât beg for you to do it again, like he didnât bust every time you did.Â
âShit, shit, shit, âM-â Carmenâs mouth fell open dumbly, eyes blowing and glazing with ecstasy, a strangled gasp and moan filling the room as he came, spilling his load down your throat. You kept pumping him through it, milking his length onto your tongue, hot release onto your taste buds while his body shook with pleasure.Â
Carmenâs shoulders heaved, rounding with exhausted pleasure as he slowly came down off his high. You waited until he looked back at you, eyes meeting yours to swallow. Carmen nearly fainted right then and there at the sight.Â
Thirty minutes later, you were set up with your camera, the two of you giggly and sweet in your own corner of the kitchen, while Carmen eagerly filmed your video. Even feeding you a bite when he was finished with the dish, beaming at your praise.Â
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words unsaid
pairing: carmy berzatto x reader
summary: after months of flirting and unconfessed feelings, you and carmy get in an argument when a customer gives him her number.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: swearing, angst, carmy being completely unaware of everything
After wiping down your stations for the night, you and Carmy headed to the lockers to grab your bags. You both were exhausted after a hectic night.
âYou have any plans for the rest of the night?â Carmy asked, curiously. You shrugged, looking over your shoulder at him as you fiddled with your locker. âYou mean besides eating leftover pizza and then passing out from exhaustion?â You joked. You heard a small chuckle from Carmy.
He noticed you were tugging at the locker and the door seemed to be stuck. âHere, let me help you with that.â He offered.
You stepped out of the way and let Carmy take a shot at it. He jiggled the handle a few times and then was able to tug it open. âMy hero,â you teased, as he walked back to his own locker.
If you had turned around, you would have seen the pink tint on Carmyâs cheeks.
âAnyway, did you want to maybe go grab a drink. I mean, only if youâre okay with postponing your pizza plans. Those sounded important though,â he teased you. You were one of the few people that Carmy would actually joke around with.
You jokingly scoffed at him. âMy commitment to my leftover pizza is none of your business, Berzatto,â you responded, trying to maintain a serious tone. Once again, the sound of his soft chuckle met your ears.
âHey, guys. Our last table wanted to personally thank their chefs.â Richie said, sticking his head around the corner.
Carmy gestured towards the door, politely letting you walk in front of him. Richie guided you both to the booth that currently seated three women. They were the only remaining customers from the dinner service.
Richie quickly introduced you both to them, and then he headed back to help with clean-up.
You noticed that two of the women seemed to be smirking at their other friend. âThe food tonight was absolutely amazing.â One of them perked up and complimented you both.
You politely smiled, letting Carmy take the lead since he was the owner. You saw his posture shift as he went into customer service-mode.
âThank you very much. Thank you for coming to visit us tonight. Weâre glad you liked it.â He said, putting on a polite smile.
Carmy didnât see it, but you noticed the two women quickly raise their eyebrows at their other friend. She then directed her attention to Carmy.
You knew where the conversation was going, and you hated how it tugged at your gut. You felt a heavy weight on your shoulders, and it took a lot for you to fake a smile.
Carmy was an attractive guy, and he was a chef, which was a pretty good recipe for success. You saw customers fawn over him constantly, but it never got easier.
That being said, Carmy wasnât technically yours, but he was. He wasnât your boyfriend by any means, and you werenât his girlfriend. But, he dropped everything any time you called, and heâd do anything for you.
Your relationship was sometimes flirty, but neither of you had ever taken it further.
âYeah, the food was really excellent. Youâre an amazing chef. I definitely have a reason to come back.â The woman said, coyly.
You forced yourself to bite the inside of your lip, so you could keep your pleasant facade. You noticed their check sitting on the table and decided to use it as your excuse out of there.
âThank you again for coming,â you said, smiling, grabbing the check, and heading back towards the kitchen. The woman looked like she finally realized you were standing there.
Carmy quickly thanked them again and followed right behind you.
Once the kitchen doors closed behind you, you turned to Carmy. âBeing a chef does it every time, Berzatto,â you teased him.
Instead of being met by his usual grin, you saw him tilt his head as he tried to figure out what you were talking about.
âWhat do you mean?â He finally asked, when he couldnât figure it out. You waited for a second, almost thinking he was playing dumb. âShe was hitting on you, Carmy.â You told him. His eyes widened as he looked at you. âNo, she wasnât,â he argued.
You looked down at the check you were holding, which confirmed your suspicion when you saw a phone number written across the bottom of it.
âReally?â You asked, sliding the check into his hand. Your hand grazed his as you did, which almost made Carmy short circuit. He looked down at the check in his hand and saw the phone number clear as day.
âSo, what am I supposed to do?â He asked you. From his perspective, he was asking how he was supposed to let her down and tell her he wasnât interested. You didnât take it that way.
âWell, if youâre interested, you call her.â You explained. He was speechless. He stood in front of you, not having a single coherent string of thoughts in mind.
âWhâŚwhatâwhat do you mean?â He stumbled over his words.
You were practically fuming. You thought that you and Carmy had a thing going on, but he seemed to be pretty interested in asking this girl out.
âAre you interested? Do you want to go on a date with her?â You asked, your tone coming out a little more hostile than you intended. You were just jealous and even more unsure of where your and Carmyâs relationship stood.
âIâŚI donât know,â he stammered, taken aback by this whole situation. He was getting love advice from the girl he wanted to be with, but was getting love advice for a different girl.
âWell, youâre the only one who can figure that out,â you huffed and quickly walked away from him. You knew if you continued the conversation for another minute, youâd start crying.
You grabbed your work bag and slammed your locker shut. âWoah, you okay?â Sydney asked from beside you. You hadnât even noticed she was standing there. You took a deep breath before responding.
âNot really, you wanna go get a drink?â You asked her. She could tell that something had really gotten to you. âYeah, of course. Is it about Carmy?â she asked, quietly. You just nodded, biting down on your lip and trying not to tear up.
âItâs okay. Câmon, letâs get you out of here,â she said, wrapping her arm around you as the two of you walked out the back door.
Still stunned from the whole encounter, Carmy walked into the office to hopefully clear his head. He sat in there for thirty minutes, continuously replaying his conversation with you in his head. He knew you were mad, but he wasnât sure why. He was also thrown off by why it seemed like you were encouraging him to go on a date with the other woman.
After wracking his brain for answers, he still had nothing, so he headed towards the back alleyway to smoke a cigarette. He found Richie doing the same thing.
âYou okay, cousin?â Richie asked, clearly being able to see how on edge Carmy looked. âFuck no,â Carmy mumbled.
âIs this about your girl?â Richie asked, having already gotten a text from Sydney that explained what happened. âSheâs not my girl, Richie, but I think weâre in a fight, and weâve never been in a fight before. I just donât know why sheâs mad.â Carmy explained.
âYou donât know why sheâs mad?â Richie asked in shock. Carmy looked at him with a confused look and shook his head.
âYou two have been flirting and hanging out more and more. Then, you tell her that you maybe want to go on a date with this other girl. You donât think sheâd be hurt by that?â Richie asked him. Carmy didnât understand why everybody was suddenly an expert on his relationship today and why he was so out of the loop.
âWhat do you mean, we are just friends.â Carmy argued, not being able to admit anything to the contrary, âwait, how do you know about our conversation?â
âSydney told me. Sheâs busy trying to cheer Y/N up because sheâs pissed at you.â Richie said, quickly brushing past it, âhow does the idea of her going on a date with someone else make you feel, cousin? Like when you watch those customers that stare at her,â he asked.
Carmy hesitated. He knew the answer. âI fuckinâ hate it, but Iâm just being protective. Weâre friends, and I care about her.â Carmy replied, still in denial.
âCousin, do you really think colleagues go out for drinks after work and get coffee together before work as often as you guys do? You know all her favorite movies, and her favorite flowers, and the words to all her favorite songs. And that big dinner you made for her birthday,â he told Carmy. Hearing all of it like that made Carmy realize how special your relationship was, but he was having trouble admitting it out loud.
âIâm a chef. I make food for people. Itâs what I do.â Carmy argued, not even believing his own excuse.
âYeah, because itâs like your fuckinâ love language, dickhead. How did you not see this?â Richie asked.
Carmy didnât know what to think. âSo are we like together?â He asked, stunned. Richie shook his finger at Carmy.
âNot until you finally grow a pair and actually make a real move. Ask her out to dinner, tell her how you feel, give her some grand gesture.â Richie told him.
Carmy stood still for a moment, processing what he had just heard.
âWhere are her and Syd right now? I need a ride.â He told Richie, desperately. Richie quickly grabbed his car keys, and they both headed out the door.
âI know weâre not dating, but I just donât understand why he didnât say he wasnât interested. Like, surely I canât be imagining all of the flirting and how sweet heâs been.â You rambled to Sydney, taking another sip of your drink. Sydney nodded along.
âMaybe he felt like he was put on the spot because Iâve seen how he looks at you. He really cares about you but just has a shit way of showing it.â Sydney mentioned.
You looked down at the bar, slowly stirring your drink around. The front door of the bar quickly opened, slamming against the wall. Both yours and Sydneyâs gaze went right to the loud noise.
You both saw Carmy burst into the restaurant. His eyes searched around until they landed on yours. He rushed towards the end of the bar where you and Sydney were sitting.
He stopped in front of you and caught his breath for a minute. âI am so fucking sorry. You are my everything, and I really fucked it up. And I donât even know what I was saying.â He started to ramble.
You were shocked to say the least. âCarmy, you wanna go talk outside?â You suggested, assuming some privacy for this conversation was probably a good idea. He quickly nodded and held out his hand to help you down from your seat.
Sydney gave you a reassuring smile, and then you felt Carmyâs hand on the small of your back as he followed you outside. Now that he had a better grasp on your relationship, he felt much more confident, which made him more affectionate. And you loved it.
He rushed in front of you, so he could hold the front door open for you. You both saw Richie waiting outside. âSydâs inside. Can you give us a minute, cousin?â Carmy asked him. Richie quickly nodded and headed inside to freak out with Sydney that they were so close to getting you two together.
âI didnât mean any of that earlier. I was just confused, and it felt like you wanted me to ask that girl out. So, I was questioning if you felt the same way I feel about you.â He apologized. He had to stop himself from grabbing your hands. He wanted to, but he wanted to apologize first.
âEnough of what I want. Tell me before I waste anymore of my time. Carmen Berzatto, what do you want? Do you want to be with me?â You asked him. You felt like you were being harsh, but you wanted everything to be out in the open.
âI want to be with you so fuckinâ bad.â He said. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He used his other hand to cup your cheek and close the distance with a kiss.
Richie and Sydney saw the kiss through the window and had to stop themselves from cheering.
You stumbled forward a little since Carmy had pulled you towards him so quickly. He tightened his grip around your waist, while smirking into the kiss. You let your hands rest on his forearms, feeling his biceps flex under your fingertips.
The kiss was rushed, fueled by months of pent up feelings and the fear of losing each other that you both had experienced. Neither of you wanted to let the other go.
His lips tasted like spearmint as they moved effortlessly against yours. There was a loud clap of thunder above you both, and the sky opened up as it started pouring.
You both pulled out of the kiss in shock at the freezing rain that was hitting your skin. You both just grinned at each other, knowing how picture-perfect this moment was.
âYou wanna go inside?â He almost had to yell for you to hear him over the rain. You just shook your head. You wanted to enjoy every single second.
He grabbed your hand and spun you around in a circle, watching as the rain droplets flew off the ends of your hair.
You were smiling and giggling. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back into a kiss. âYou are perfect,â he mumbled as he kissed you.
He finally pulled out of the kiss when he noticed you shivering. âThis is magical, but Iâm not gonna let you get sick.â He said, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you back inside where you were met by the smiling faces of Richie and Sydney. They both immediately pulled you into a hug.
âYou know how hard we had to work for this to happen because you both wanted to be in denial for months that youâre head over heels for each other.â Sydney teased you both. You just smiled at Carmy, and all you could think about was how the rest of your coworkers were going to freak out when they heard.
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CINNAMON SUGAR â CARMEN BERZATTO
summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.
length 2k
contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice
Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesnât block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. Itâs late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.
He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when youâre asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.
You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. ââŚBear?â
âYeah, âs me, baby.â Even at a whisper, he thinks heâs too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.
A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hoursâ rest. âYou coming to bed soon?â
âAlmost,â he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks heâs worthy of. âNeeda take a shower first, alright? But Iâll be right back.âÂ
He couldâve done that much by nowâcouldâve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing youâbut truthfully, waiting any longer wouldâve driven him mad. He wouldâve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he couldâve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.
âOkay,â you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.
He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. Thereâs a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the dayâs stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampooâthe one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that heâs been purchasing ever since to keep you happyâbefore cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better itâd feel, how much more relief heâd get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. Youâve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and youâre waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, heâll do it.
He hops out of the water like itâs acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, heâll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing moreâyouâll keep him warm enough under the blankets.
Itâs only thenâwhen he peels back those final layersâthat he realizes heâs been smiling the whole time.
Once heâs settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, youâre turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there.Â
âHey,â he coos, âYâdonât have to move fâme, yeah? Just sleep, baby.â Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder.Â
And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. â âS more comfy this way, Carm.â You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. âYou smell good, too.â
He canât even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesnât run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. â âS that shampoo you got me a while agoâŚSometime this weekââ he yawns, and if he werenât dying to hear your voice a few more times, heâd be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easilyâ âSometime this week we can go tâthe store, you can pick out another body wash fâme to try, too.â
âMm, Iâd like that.â You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. âHow was it today?â The restaurant. His headaches. Richieâs mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.
âWas alright,â he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. âReal busy, so I didnât get to leave âtill late, âm sorry.â
â âS alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.â You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. âI was gonna ask you to bring something home, but itâs a weekend, so I didnât wanna bother you in a rush.â
âWhatâd you want?â
From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds heâs ever heard. âI just wanted some fries, honestlyâŚdidnât feel like going out.â
âHeh,â he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceilingâas if looking at you would make the moment disappear. âI wouldâve picked âem up for you, âr at least had Fak get âem to you.â
You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answerâs a bit softer. âUh-uh, I like them better when you make âem.â
âYeah? âve I been pampering you too much?â He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but itâs all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work heâs put inâall the love he has for youâmakes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person heâs sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any criticâs review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and thatâs enough.
âOf course you have,â you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. âYouâre always so sweet to me, Bearââ one more quick peck just beneath his earâ âlove when you cook for me.â
He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he canât always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: âYâknow, uhâŚMarcusâs been playing around with recipesâŚâ
He feels you smile against his chest, knowing whatâs to come. âYeah?â
âMhm, anâ Iâd never let âim serve âem, âcause, yâknowâŚâ He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. âThey donât fit the menuâŚbut uh, he made theseâŚthese rolls todayâŚâ
âMhm? âM listeningâŚâ
Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. âI think youâd like âem, he had some classic cinnamon, ânâŚa blueberry lemon goinââŚâ
âThat sounds really good,â you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.
âI know,â he drawls, and heâs a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, âWhich is why I said Iâd let âim fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.â
âDid you really?â The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call.Â
He figures thatâs why heâs so drawn to youâall the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. â âF course, babyâŚâÂ
It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries itâll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, heâd stop breathing before pulling your hand away. Itâs soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when youâre not around.
âI broughtâŚâ He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. âI brought you some of the cinnamon rollsâŚSugar liked âemâŚtheyâre on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'âŚâ Heâs not sure whether itâs your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed heâs ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.
âThank you, my love,â slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline.Â
And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over himâat least part of him does, the part thatâs still awakeâbecause the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle thereâs a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesnât warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.
Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, youâll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.
And heâll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmy berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto imagines#carmen berzatto imagine#the bear#carmy the bear#the bear fx#the bear x reader#the bear season 2
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i know this might be controversialâŚbut carmen not realizing he has a size kink until heâs got you seated on his cock, hearing you babble with teary eyes about how big he is and how good he feels, watching your thighs genuinely tremble and you havenât even started to move yet.
definitely delves into CRAZY teasing at times, muttering shit like âsorry sweetheart, i just donât think itâll fit. youâll take my fingers again, lemme stretch this pretty cunt out, yeah? maybe you can take my cock once youâve cum again.â and eventually âitâs deep, huh? shh, i know, i know itâs big, baby, can barely move youâre squeezinâ me so fuckinâ tightâŚtakinâ it so wellâŚâ -đŤ
Oh god.
Iâm thinking him realizing it when you ride him for the first time, in particular. The relationship is still new and youâve only had sex a couple of times. Carmy always insists on missionary. It lets him hide his face in the crook of your neck, where he just licks and sucks at your skin to keep himself quiet.
The night starts out normal. Youâre cozy up against Carmyâs side on the couch while he watches one of his cooking shows. It doesnât take long for your hands to start wandering on his skin. Your fingers trace underneath his t-shirt first, feeling his muscles underneath.
Carmyâs poker face is bullet proof, until you lean in to press hot open-mouth kisses to his neck. âFuck, baby,â he whispers. The feeling of your lips on his neck always breaks down his strong exterior.
You straddle him, removing your lips from his pulse point to look into his eyes. Carmy lets one hand naturally drift to your hips, urging you to grind into him. With the other, heâs firmly grabbing your jaw to smash your lips onto his. Kissing Carmy is always messy. He kisses you like itâs the last time heâll ever do it. His lips sloppily press against yours. Thereâs barely any rhyme or reason to his movements, just pure desperation for more of you.
It doesnât take long for the both of you to be completely naked. Carmy makes a move to try and flip you over on the couch, but you press down on his shoulders before he has the chance to move.
You lock eyes with him. Those beautiful blue eyes of his are now filled with desire. Only a thin ring of blue remains around his pupils. His jaw falls open when you reach down to grip his length, spreading the precum that leaked from his tip to the rest of his shaft. âCan I ride you, Carm?â
âFuck sweetheartâ you can do whatever you want. I just need to be inside of you.â
Without another word, you rise up onto your knees to position the head of his cock at your entrance. Carmyâs eyes stay focused on that very spot, shuttering when his dick makes contact with your cunt.
You sink down onto his cock at a snails pace. The tip is enough to make you wince. You grit your teeth as you let your hips sit all the way down on his cock. The pressure is impossibly to put into words. His cock is thick, and it stretches you out in ways that brings tears to your eyes. The pain is welcomed though because the pleasure that follows it is mind numbing.
Carmenâs waiting for you to move, eyes transfixed on where your hips are flush with his. Itâs not until he feels the shaking in your thighs that he looks up at your face. Your lip is caught inbetween your teeth, and tears well up at the waterline of your eyes.
âC-Carm. Youâre so f-fucking big. So deep Carmyâlook.â You quickly grab one of his hands that was locked around your waist, and urge him to press his palm right above your mound. With shaky legs, you grind your hips, letting him feel how deep his cock is.â
âHoly shit, babyââ
âY-you feel that?â A stray tear drips from your water line. âYou fill me up so good, Bear. Like no one else can.â
Seeing you shake and cry from how big his dick is changed something in Carmen that night. He goes a little unhinged.
The next time he fucks you, itâs with both your legs thrown over his shoulders. The position is almost too much, making you whimpering. You donât even realize youâre crying until Carmy speaks up.
âIs my cock too big for this pretty pussy?â How about I pull out since it doesnât fit? I can work you with my fingers until you can take it.â
âNo, no, no! Need your cock Carmy. Please Carm, donât wanna cum on your fingers. I- I want you to fill me up. Bear.â
Carmy continues to spew absolute filth once he has permission to keep fucking you.
âI can see you crying, baby. I know itâs big but you can take it. Such a good girl for me.â
âSo fucking tight- going to make me cum too fast. Guess that just means Iâll have to fuck you again later.â
âI gotcha baby, you can take my cock. My best girl, my only girl. FuckâIâll never get tired of this cunt.â
âAtta girl, there we go. Look at you taking it so well. Knew you could do it.â
âYou look so pretty crying around my cock. Youâll get used to it baby, I promise. Donât worry, youâll always be able to feel me in your stomach like this.â
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#the bear#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear fanfiction#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy smut#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy the bear#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy bear
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thigh riding Carmy because he isn't paying attention to you please please please đ
summary: carmy misses date night and finds a way to work and make you feel good at the same time (2.2k)
pairing: carmy berzatto / f!reader
contents: established relationship, thigh riding, public setting (ish), dirty talk, smut with sprinkles of fluff 18+
Carmyâs office is a windowless concrete cage of chaos. There are a million papers stacked and scattered across his desk, half-hidden beneath books that are flipped open to random pages. Youâre not sure how heâs keeping up with any of it. Though, to be fair, youâve never been able to completely understand his mind.
You know him better than anyone else, but heâs still such a mystery to you sometimes â like a language you can read perfectly but canât speak all the way.Â
You donât know why he runs himself aground with work even though it kills him, even though he swears the enormity of his desire brings him back to life again. You just know to try and save the drowning man from himself from time to time, and not to let him strangle you with his panic in the process.
âBear?â you call gently into the amber-lit office, knuckles rapping against the opened door. âYou ready?â
Sitting slouched over his desk, you can hear the faint tap tap tapping of his pen against the paper, an anxious tick for his ever-fidgeting fingers. âNo. Notâ Not yet, baby. Iâm fuckinââ Iâm drowning in this paperwork right now.â
He lifts his heavy head from his tattooed hand and glances at you over his shoulder. The sight of you makes his breath catch â leaning against the doorframe, all pretty in the lamplight, wearing the dress he bought you.
The deep emerald silk drips over your body like summer rain. It dips low at your chest and flows just above your knees, fitting you like a total dream.
Carmy, for a flicker of a moment, forgets to be anxious.Â
While his eyes dart over your form, the rest of the world disappears â it could be entirely falling apart for all he knows, but all he can see now is you. Your stormy eyes, your soft skin, and your quiet sensuality. Your ruby lips, your cheeks like wine, and your gentle voice.Â
His mouth falls agape to say words he canât make out. His ocean eyes go wide, glimmering a deeper blue in the low light â which casts dark shadows over the sharp edges of his face. His gaze is like the sea. You feel yourself drowning in it accordingly.
âIt canât wait?â you press gently, lifting yourself from the doorframe and sauntering slowly towards him. Closing the door behind you, you drop your chin to your chest and flash the boy a sheepish smile. âAll the restaurants are gonna close soon.âÂ
Carmy huffs. He knew better than to plan a date. Heâs far too busy â or, rather, he doesnât allow himself to be anything other than busy because thereâs a voice inside him that just wonât be still. Working himself to death was an art he did exceptionally well, which hadnât bothered him so much until he met you.
âI gotta get this done, babe,â he answers sympathetically, tilting his chin to keep his eyes locked with yours as you near him.
Your familiar scent sets the stagnant air aglow. The warmth of your perfume cradles his senses when you loom beside him. Your hand rises to his shoulder, fingers fidgeting with the swathe of curls at the nape of his neck. His wide palm smooths over your hip â softly calloused against the satiny fabric.Â
You smile softly down at him. âSo I got all pretty for nothinâ?â you tease with a scrunched nose.
âWell, you got all pretty for me, actually,â Carmy corrects.
His pink lips curl in a faint smirk. Your grin widens tenfold. The subtle act of possessiveness, coupled with the strong hand on your waist, makes your chest sparkle.Â
âYeah, I did,â you hum proudly, bending at the waist to press a chaste kiss to his mouth. He tastes fleetingly of nicotine and sweet plum wine â a maddening concoction.
You rise to full height again. Carmy pats your hip twice before his fingers fall away. He turns back to his desk, and you feel half-invisible again. Itâs hardly his fault, though. There was something deeply intense about his stone-blue eyes. You feel strangely held when he looks at you, left inevitably mourning every time he turns away.
His pen darts across the gridded page in chicken scratch you canât make out, worsened by his wrist smudging the ink. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck. You bury your nose in his chestnut curls and inhale the familiar scent of grill smoke and cedarwood.Â
âYou know I donât care actually about going out, right?â you mumble there.
Carmy hums, half-distracted. âMhm.â
âJust wanna spend time with you⌠Donât care what weâre doingâŚâ
You press a kiss to his temple. He leans instinctively into your touch. âWell, Iâll make you the best damn PB&J Chicagoâs ever seen when we get back home, alright?â he muses with a quiet smile. âHowâs that sound?â
âIâm holding you to that, Bear,â you say, grinning into his curls.
âIâm countinâ on it.â Carmy chuckles and lifts his free hand to squeeze your wrist. His touch slips away soon after when he turns back to his work.Â
Quiet returns, heavy and deafening, filled only by the distant clanging of pots from stragglers in the kitchen. It makes you strikingly aware of yourself â of the space youâre filling in this tiny office, and the distracting weight of your arms around his neck. Feeling more like a burden, you clear your throat and pull away.
âIâm, uhâ Iâm gonna see if Richie left yet. Maybe heâll let me bum a smoke or something.â
Carmy mourns your warmth the second youâre gone. He spins in his swivel chair to face you, laughing to cover up his ache. âWhat happened to us spending time together?â
He knows how you think. You think he gets so involved in his work that he doesnât spare you a single thought. But really, heâs so strongly devoted to you that it feels like the emotion could rip him open from the inside.
You squint. âWatching you sign a bunch of paperwork while you pretend Iâm not here is not spending time together,â you argue, laughing despite yourself.
âDonât go. Câmon,â Carmy pleads, very distantly begging. He tilts his head and blinks at you with wide, pleading eyes. âCome sit,â he tells you.
âSit where?â you scoff.
âIn my lap.â
âIâll squish you,â you insist, giggling.
âShut up and sit down,â he commands, still playful but leaving little room for argument. His wide palms smooth slowly up and down his denim-clad thighs. Your heart lurches into your throat.
You walk the short distance to him with a huff of feigned annoyance, dress swishing around your knees. Carmy pushes away from his desk to give you space to sit. You take a seat on his lap, just like he asked you to, but he stops you with a pair of strong hands grasping your hips.
âNot like that,â he murmurs.
Your brows furrow in response. âWhat do you mean?â
âOn my thigh,â Carmy corrects, swatting playfully at your clothed hip. âCâmon. Sit right.â
You rise slowly, with a hesitant squint in your eyes. âWhat are you playing at, Bear?â you wonder lowly, legs spread slightly to welcome his thigh between them.
Carmy bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His tattooed hands creep up the hem of your dress to urge you down onto his lap â the proper way. âYouâre the one always sayinâ Iâm too busy for you, right?â he responds, hardly expecting a real answer, as he helps you straddle one of his thighs.
The angle is awkward. The old chair leaves little room for the both of you. Youâre forced to keep one leg on the ground while the other bends at the knee between his legs. You hold tight to his shoulders, trusting him to keep you steady. Your dress bunches at your hips in the meanwhile. Carmy raises his thigh until itâs flush against your clothed cunt.Â
Your breath catches, and he smirks.
âSo⌠Youâre gonna cum on my thigh,â he continues casually. ââŚAnd after that, weâll go home, Iâll fuck you like you need, and then Iâll run you a bath⌠Howâs that sound?â
Your stomach swirls with a familiar warmth â which you can feel pooling in your panties now. ���What about the PB&J?â you joke in a quiet voice that trembles only slightly.
Carmy scoffs a faint laugh. âAfter the bath.â
âWhat about in the bath?â
âWhatever you want,â he assures with a smile. âYou just gotta ride me first.â
The lighthearted air turns bone-crushingly sensual in a flicker of a moment. His light eyes pierce you mercilessly, peering into the depths of your soul. You melt for him, going uncharacteristically soft and subservient, just how he likes.
Carmy helps you with a few passes over his thigh. Youâre obviously unsure, and he can tell by your hesitant movements. His free hand squeezes your hip, urging you up his leg and down again, until you find your own rhythm. Then he turns back to his work and tries to focus. The soft sound of your breathy moans entwines with the scribbling of his pen.
You rock your hips in measured thrusts, trying to find the proper pace. The delicate fabric of your panties ruts along the rough denim of his jeans â catching your clit perfectly when you buck your hips just right. Lightning strikes down your spine, then. Both alleviating the ache between your thighs and creating a new one all at once.Â
Your breath hitches. Pitiful whimpers sound in your throat instead. You bury them all in Carmyâs neck as you hide your face in his shoulder, with your warm cheek pressed to his ear and your fingers balling his shirt in your fists.
There was something foreignly erotic about all this. Being in Carmyâs office, the door unlocked, with Syd and Richie meandering elsewhere in the kitchen. The fear of being caught made your movements quick. Careless. Wild.Â
And there was something about Carmy, too. The way heâs got you getting yourself off, with little help from the boy himself, while he busies himself with paperwork. You can hear him scribbling away still, flitting through papers with the hand not holding you. All while you hump his thigh, so desperate for attention. Itâs pathetic. And something about it made you feel good.
Your pretty whimpers turn into deeper, breathier moans. Carmy smiles to himself. He can feel the warmth of your cunt despite the layers between you. It makes him wonder if youâve left a stain on the denim. He prays youâve left a stain on the denim â wants the mark of your honey stamped there forever.
âYou close?â he murmurs when he notices your legs starting to tremble.
You bury a whine in his neck. âFuck, Bearââ
âHey,â he hums, pulling away from his paperwork for the first time in several minutes to look at you.Â
His long fingers rise from your hip and curl into your hair. He tugs softly at the strands to urge your head back so he can admire his work. Your eyes are lidded and glassy, your lips swollen and parted â already fucked-out, and he hasnât even touched you yet.
âI asked if you were close,â he repeats, unsmiling.
âYes,â you manage through a whimper.
His grip on your hair slackens. His touch returns to your hip, encouraging your rapid movements. His pink lips quirk in the faintest hint of a smile. âGood,â he praises. âGood girl. Keep going.â
You bury your face in his neck again, lips curling around your teeth to stifle the moans swelling there. Your hips lose their rhythm as the threat of your orgasm grows. Your clit pounds like a second heartbeat. You briefly wonder if Carmy can feel it, and the thought alone sends you reeling.
âCarmy,â you keen, voice wavering. âIâm gonna cum.â
You feel him nod against you. He licks his lips and turns his head. His nose squishes your temple; his wet mouth brushes your ear.Â
âDo it, then. Câmon,â he mumbles against you, coaxing you closer towards your pleasure â not because heâs a pro at the whole dirty-talking thing, but because he knows how much you like it. âBe a good girl and cum on my thigh. Come on.â
You last two more passes up and down his lap before you tense on top of him. Your hips still as you whimper into his shoulder, shuddering hard when your orgasm washes over you.
âAtta girl,â Carmy praises. âKeep cumming for me.â
He drops his pen and finally turns away from his work. He grips your hips with both hands and works you the rest of the way through your orgasm. You let him, for a few agonizing moments, until your high fades and leaves you achingly sensitive.
You inhale sharply through your nose and reach suddenly for his wrists. âNo more,â you plead, then exhale a breathy chuckle.
When you part from his neck, Carmy ducks his head to catch your averted gaze. His wide eyes dart over your pleasure-stricken features. âYou good?â he wonders. His words have lost any hint of sensuality. Heâs always serious about checking in on you.
You nod and swallow hard. ââM good,â you promise, then freeze when your knee nudges his half-hard cock. âAre you good?â you parrot.
Carmy scoffs a breathy chuckle. âIâm almost done hereâ go bum a smoke from Richie, alright? Iâll out in a second.âÂ
He kisses you softly. A chaste kiss thatâs perhaps too innocuous for such a honeyed moment. You rise on tired legs, and he swats playfully at your side. âHowâs that for spending time together, huh?â he calls over his shoulder as you wrench open the office door.
âYouâre an idiot, Bear.â
#published by bug#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#the bear x reader#the bear imagine#the bear#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto imagine#the bear fanfiction#carmy berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fic#carmy berzatto fic#carmy x reader#carmy x you#the bear oneshots#carmy oneshot
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carmy! i have a request, itâs so basic but everything you write is golden. him and r are pining coworkers, and maybe someone else yells at her or upsets her or whatever and heâs like but iâm the only one allowed to shout at you and he hugs her (because you know⌠arms đ)
âCarmy tries to make you feel better after a customer upsets you. fem, 1.5kÂ
âFucking asshole,â Richie mutters as the door swings closed.Â
Carmy would cringe if he had the energy, or a lack of self-awareness âitâs not as though he doesnât swear like a starved sailor every other sentence.Â
âWhoâs the asshole?â he asks, feeling down his side for the bump of a box of cigarettes he doesnât find.Â
Heâs taken to hiding them in the office. Heâd love to pretend it was an act of lent, but in actuality, he never told Ritchie that the box of cigarettes left near the burner, that gave them their C-army rating, wasnât Richieâs at all, but Carmyâs. He isnât ever planning on having that conversation, so heâs trying not to carry a box around and leave it somewhere stupid again.Â
âFuckingâ you didnât just hear that guy?â Richie asks, scowling.Â
Carmy scowls back. âYeah, thatâs why Iâm asking. What the fuck do you think?âÂ
Itâs slightly too much aggression off the cuff, but Richie brings it out of him. âSome asshole just came in here and started shouting like a motherfucker because he forgot his stupid napkins. I thought Sunshine was gonna cry her eyes out.âÂ
Carmy clocks back in fully. âWhat?âÂ
Sunshine is the mildly sarcastic nickname Richie gave you before Carmy ever step foot in The Beef. Itâs not that youâre moody, but youâre always tired, and you give these little shy smiles out to anyone who asks how you are. Iâm fine, you say every time, followed by something deflective like, Iâm just tired. Lack of vitamin D from working in this place.Â
âWhere do scumbags get off, making girls cry like that?âÂ
Carmy's eyes widen. âSheâs crying?âÂ
Richie is capable of seriousness, despite himself. âYeah,â he says, his anger swapped out for a low remorse, âI told her to go sit in the office until sheâs feeling better.âÂ
Carmy pauses. âShould I go look in?â he asks.Â
âDuh, Carmen. Youâre the only one who can make her feel better. Which I resent!â He brings a rag end from his shoulder to wipe his forehead, which is gross, but whatever. âIâm fucking excellent at being a shoulder to cry on.âÂ
Carmy doesnât know what that means. Richie says it like itâs obvious, but since when is Carmy the only person who can make you feel better? Youâve known everybody here far longer than youâve known him, and sometimes Carmy thinks you probably donât want a thing to do with him, does anybody in the kitchen? Youâre smart, and youâve been working here as long as anybody, started when you were genuinely too young and learning everything you know from the other. You have potential, like everybody here. You just didnât get the right training, and youâre defensive (again, like everybody here).Â
Carmyâs almost positive youâre gonna tell him to fuck off when he knocks the office door. He doesnât know why he does it, nobody knocks in this shithole, but he does. Maybe heâs buying time; youâll be feeling better when he pushes the door fully open, and he wonât have to navigate the treacherous depths of his feelings for you while heâs so busy trying to work himself out.
You sniff, muffled, like a sleeve is held over your face. âHello?â you ask.Â
Carmy gets a burst of energy and doesnât ask before stepping into the room. You canât say no if he doesnât ask, and you donât, looking at him from the rickety office chair with distrust, and then sheepishness.Â
âSorry, I shouldnât be in here.âÂ
âNo, no, you can come in here,â he says. He has a bad habit of pausing too long and looking too close, hands clenched in front of himself. âYou can come in here. Some asshole made you cry?âÂ
You shake your head with tears still wet on your cheek. Youâre at home in the office, all the chaos and posters and paper trails a match for you dishevelled appearance. Youâve pulled your foot onto the chair, showcasing a shoe thatâs falling apart and two pairs of socks pulled to uneven heights. Your hands are a riot, none of your jewellery but a mismatch of different coloured band-aids over a multitude of wounds. And your face glows with tears, shitty light of the desk lamp casting yellow onto your teary cheeks, your lips bitten raw.Â
âIâm fine,â you say.Â
Carmy doesnât know what he was expecting, but he was hoping for a better confession. âOver napkins?âÂ
âSaid Iâm sâposed to put napkins in the bag,â you say, a monotony to your voice thatâs forced and weak at once. ââCos Iâm a fucking idiot, right, who doesnât put napkins in the bag?â You sniffle. âWhatever. Richie said he canât come back.âÂ
âHe canât,â Carmy says quickly.Â
He fails to follow it up. Thereâs an idiot in the office, for sure, and itâs not you.Â
Your mouth crumples and you look away from him, something achy about you as another tear falls down your cheek to curve into the skin above your top lip, making a home at your cupidâs bow. âIâm fine.âÂ
âYou can be upset,â he says. âThis jobâs⌠hard enough, without people making you feel like shit for shit you didnât do.â
You respond to his warm(ish) tone with a small smile. Your tear slips down your lip. Carmy wants to wipe it off.Â
âWhat can I do?â he asks finally.
He wishes he could make you feel better without asking, and there are parts of him that want to turn tail and run, too, but Carmy stays standing in front of the half-open door watching as tears make their way to your chin. He doesnât know why youâre still crying.Â
Maybe he does. Carmy doesnât usually cry. He just watches things go wrong without stopping them, or keels over in the alley for long, too fast minutes as his heart pumps a bruising rhythm against his ribs.Â
âIâm fine, Carmy,â you say, wiping your face roughly as you stand from the chair. Â
He scratches a hand through his hair. âTell me what to do and Iâll do it.âÂ
âYou donât have to anything.âÂ
âRichie said Iâm the only person who can make you feel better.âÂ
âYouâre just the only guy who ever shouts at me,â you tease, sniffling softly as you do.Â
Carmy shouldnât yell at anyone, but he does. Youâve never cried. He wouldnât yell at anybody if he thought it would make them upset like that, itâs just that yellingâs like talking where he comes from, and the kitchen doesnât help.Â
âSo what? Am I supposed to beat that guy up?â Carmy asks.Â
You laugh through what he hopes to be the last of your tears, scrubbing at your cheeks ineffectually. âLike you could beat somebody up. Youâre all bark and no bite, Berzatto.âÂ
Sure. And heâs a loser, heâs more than aware of it; Carmy knows fifty seven different ways to prepare corn for eating and he doesnât know a single way to make girls feel better, so he tries something he saw on TV.Â
âCome here,â he says, holding his arm out insistently. âCâmere.âÂ
He leans in to grab you. You hold your arms out, but you still when he touches you like you're shocked. Heâs a little shocked too.Â
âRichie knew the guy, right?â Carmy asks.Â
âHe said heâs banned for life.âÂ
âOkay, great.â Carmy feels up your back slowly. Your arms are hesitant behind him. Heâs the braver one for once, feeling at the dips and slopes of you with a greedy hand.
You smell⌠really good. He has a good sense of smell, can pick apart a meal's ingredients by scent alone if heâs awake enough, so he can tell youâre wearing that little solid perfume you keep in your cubby, gentle enough to not bother anybody in the kitchen, ever so slightly milky and sweet. He can also smell the salt on your cheeks. So weird to be able to smell your tears.Â
Carmy pats your back and leans away. Your hands fall to your side.Â
He wipes your face hesitantly, pinky to your soft cheek, until your tear stains are dry and youâre looking at him steadily.
âThat was really weird,â you say.Â
He panics, stepping away from you, âFuck. Fuck, sorry.âÂ
You shake your head. âNo, Iâm just kidding. Thanks, Carmy.âÂ
âDick,â he says.Â
You smile brightly. Okay, his heart fell into his ass when you said it was weird, but you can tease him all day if it makes you feel better.Â
âI better go tell Richie Iâm okay,â you say. âDonât you have a stock to reduce?âÂ
âOh, you mean your stock?â he asks.Â
Your smile makes him wanna grab your wrist, and it makes him wanna chase after you. You slink out of the office, waving a quick goodbye with your fingers, and Carmy stares at the place youâd been sitting while you cried for a couple of seconds to get a grip. Â
He puts his hand on his chest and feels his pulse racing.Â
âFucking asshole,â he mutters, not sure if he means the customer or himself.
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