#Carmy berzatto x black reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cloveroctobers · 1 year ago

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FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

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stargirlfics · 2 years ago

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Imagine Carmy finally goes on vacation and with his girlfriend (black!reader). The vacation is a complete fuckfest. They’re fucking in the bed, in the shower, against the sliding glass doors, on the balcony. They are like rabbits.

Oh my god mood! Also Carmy with a black gf just makes so much sense in my brain like iykyk!

Especially with Carmy who I feel like would be just a little stressed in the back of his mind because this is a real vacation and that man has never had a day off, he’s always on but he’s left The Bear in capable hands and they’ve all assured him it’ll be fine and he should definitely go on that vacation he’s been talking about for months now, Richie and you practically kidnapped him to go to the airport lmfao, so it takes Carm some time to adjust and really just relax and enjoy himself

But it’s all good cause when that moment does come, yeah he is all over you! Every second he can get because he knows back home this much alone time with you can be hard to come by and he’s not wasting a single second

God he would be insatiable like you’ve never seen him like this and you really like the side of Carmy that’s affectionate and handsy and eager to see you be pleased and to be the one to give that pleasure to you, plus he’s feeling grateful that you’re with him, here in this time and place where you can do whatever and can relax and you’re the one that pushed him to actually take time off from the restaurant

Please like I know he can give it so good, has your back arching, toes curling type of good and he’s so fucking passionate you’re left seeing stars after each time! 🥵

#N E E D #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #the bear blurbs #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x black reader #carmen berzatto x black reader #carmen berzatto headcanons

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natti-ice · 9 months ago

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being completely obsessed with him stretching you out

18+ mdni

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

he’s always been very well endowed, when you first started hooking up you realized he’s much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before- at first it was intimidating, until you found out how much you love being filled up by him. He gently runs his tip up and down your slit, making you whimper as it gently grazes your clit, he lets out a pleased hum as he watches your reaction. “Easy baby, I’ll be gentle I promise- stay still for me” you try so hard to ground yourself, gripping onto the bed sheets as you anticipate his entry, you could feel your arousal dripping down to your ass. He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly slips the tip in, immediately his girth starts to stretch you, you always gasp softly no matter how many times you’ve done this it still feels like the first.

A deep groan rumbles through his chest “shit, you’re so fucking wet for me sweetheart.” your eyes shut as the pleasure washes over you, he slowly pumps into you adding a little bit more of his length with each stroke until he’s all the way in. You can feel every detail of his cock against your walls, you’ve never known such bliss before- you didn’t even want to cum, you wanted to stay in this moment forever.

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xblackreader · 2 months ago

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let’s talk about it

#Chris storer what are you thinking #anyone saying there’s no signs you are insane I truly believe #x black reader #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #the bear

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elliesplug · 3 months ago

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not to sound "woke" or anything (bc no one knows how to use that term properly) but it's tiring how exclusive fanfics are for black ppl. like when im reading a fic n the writer says something like "you blushed" or "she ran her fingers through your hair" even though it's a minuscule part of the story in the grand scheme of things, to me it is just a small reminder that im not accepted into these spaces or that my features aren't desirable enough to be described. it might be "just a fanfic" to u but all these little reminders build up over n over again n honestly it can js take the joy out of reading fics sometimes ngl.

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neonovember · 3 months ago

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Okay hear me out, how would carmen react to someone he's dating being a "picky eater" that has a VERY limited diet due to sensory issues👀

This is totally not self-indulgent /s

Eeeee

carmen berzatto x reader

enjoy some bear fam ribbing and carmen carmen carmen

honestly I think he’d be interested if anything! His mind is constantly on overdrive thinking of recipes and foods and the combinations of flavours, and how to change this and tweak that. He could run on fumes, just a jar of tums and his notebook and spend the night brainstorming dishes. We’ve all seen it, it might be a way for him to distract from the hellish that is his social life outside the Bear, by bringing it home too. So when he meets his girl, who’s got a palate that is entirely different to anything he’s seen before he takes it as almost a challenge to push himself to produce something amazing, creative and yours.

You’re his girl, he has this carnal need to take care of you, and can you imagine if you were nervous or worried about what he might think??? No he’d run his thumb along your thigh, while you're on either side of him wrapped in the covers that were warm from the morning sun and just raise his eyebrows and snicker in that way he does. And it hit him that your exes were dipshits and never listened to you and he’d gather you in his arms and murmur how you could watch him cook for you every day if you wanted to.

And he held true to that, he’d sit you down on the counter after hours in the Bear later that night. You’d sneak in, when you’re craving for something that the places around you can’t offer and Carmen is just fucking itching to serve you food and show off his fucking Michelin talent.

It would be a ritual, you watching and him making. He’d serve it to you all pretty and clean, leaving his serving to be eaten from the pan. And he watches every expression on your face, every quirk and flick of your eyebrow and he’d know, god he’d know what you were thinking in that moment. If you liked it or not, if it triggered one of your senses into overdrive and had you trying to hide the way your teeth scraping against a certain component left you shivering in disgust.

He’d know and he’d rush to give you water and make you spit it out despite your protests. And you shake your head in anger at the things you can’t control and Carmen will sit with you on the floor of the Bear and he’d smile in that way he does, as he’d ask about every part and force it out of you until he’d be changing the meal entirely.

Showing you the things you can control which was making your boyfriend who cooked for a living, cook.

He’d be protective over you I feel like, after you tell him bad experiences that had ruined your relationship with food. Making sure no one gave you shit about it, always on guard, eyes in slits and voice gravelly when waiters double check your order or look anywhere but their fucking notepad.

The team is a whole other situation… I imagine it to be a whole team involved in a sit down investigation, an entire intervention by them because they are just so confused and scared (which is actually hilarious) that you were barred from eating certain foods or something.

-- -

“Okay, okay, how about pasta alla vodka” Tina muses, a grin pulling at her jaw as she leans back against the cheap plastic chairs that were reserved for the house.

“Nop, don’t like those bits of tomato they leave in the sauce” You shrug, chewing on your straw as you watch the way the rest of the team rears back in dismay.

Tina’s face drops, stubbornly pulling out a dollar bill and slapping it into Richie's grinning face.

“I thought I had it dammit” Tina groans, muttering about losing to a fake Italian divorcee who skimped her out of a chocolate bar.

You're all scattered in the back of the Bear, popcorn and peanuts are littered amongst half emptied bottles of beers on the large metal table that spans across the room. The Bear had been closed today, some sort of team building attempt at brainstorming new ideas for the menu and the Bear itself.

Much to the annoyance of the rest of the crew, who had to make the commute in a freezing Chicago winter on a day that was supposed to be a break, somewhere along the fights that erupted at every suggestion and the stubbornness that remained in each of the team it did feel a little like family bonding.

At least it felt like it now, as they all collectively came together to study you.

That's where you found yourself, being pulled into the never calm-always-catastrophic environment of the Bear thanks to Carmen. You had protested at first, thinking you would be out of place in the sea of decorated chefs but as your phone dinged with messages from Syd and Richie, the latter earring on a very thinly veiled threat to ‘be there or i'll come and get you’ you found yourself throwing on a too thin jacket and knocking against on the Bear’s ‘closed’ sign after your shift.

You were greeted with the warmth of the Bear, breathing it in deeply before you realised that the smoky heat of the restaurant was as much fueled by the temperamental crew screaming out obscenities in the back as much as the radiator Fak had somehow fixed for the 15th time.

You didn't quite understand how you got here, you in the middle, and the team surrounding you firing out questions about your less than conventional palate.

Carmen's disgruntled protest against the team channeling some sort of crud rip off of True Detective did little as the team went around listing dishes from escargot to cheese on bread to get your opinion.

It was downright ironic, you know this. You are someone who couldn't stand the texture and smell of certain foods to the point of having them struck from your diet with a man whose entire life was surrounded by, and birthed from the complexities of texture and taste.

“It’s one of the stables of Italy!’ Richie barks, stuffing the dollar bill into his pocket hile shaking his head.

The beer he had opened had gone cold in his hand since the beginning of the conversation. He couldn't stop his mouth from remaining hung open after every shake of your head and shrug of your shoulders towards the meals they loved.

You wondered if chefs have the same value systems as other..tightly knit organisations. One where disrespect leads to your swift removal…off the face of the earth. You don’t let yourself forget that they are skilled in the goddamn wielding of knives no matter their friendly chiding, you might be one shake of your head away from being prepared in all the ways you hate your food to be.

Carmen looked at you, his eyes straining across your body to check if you felt uncomfortable. He knew your tells almost as well as you know, and he'd be quick to shut it down and take you back home if need be. But as your eyes meet his, and the squint of a smile reaches them he shakes his head, mouths a “goddamn idiots”, and rolls his eyes at his families curiosity.

“Listen, I get that, I don't like bits of bone in my meat. But surely, for a dish that you know I know you know tastes like the fucking gates of heaven, you can make an exception” Syd blinks, her face filled with expectation, like she thought it was obvious.

You’re giggling at Sydney words, “Is this reassurance for me or for you”

“Me. It’s for me” Syd gulps, blinking as she registers the truth

“I just can’t eat food, no matter how good you guys tell me it is, that fucks up my sensory issues-”

“Alright, yeah, sensory issues, darling I bet if i could bring you to ONE dinner, one of our dinners at Carmen's Ma's we could easily persuade you-”

“Jesus fucking Christ-”

“No, no look Carmen. This is your woman ain't she? How can you let her walk around without letting her taste the delicate crossroads that produce Chicago- Italian cuisine? I mean you're seriously failing-”

“Fuck you”

“Goddamn fake”

The irony of it all was, you and Carmen had both met at a farmers market. Surrounded by food you wouldn't eat, at a place you didn't frequent, all for one particular food you did eat. And somehow, despite passing by 95% of vendors without even a swipe of your eye against their delicate colors and shapes, Carmen had bumped into you.

And he had apologies and you had crouched down to collect the runaway potatoes and fruits that tried to escape through his pouch, and your fingers had collided when you looked up to see the man who had interrupted your 15 minute venture.

Through the blurted out line of apologies, Carmen had stopped and looked at you and tried to reopen his hanging mouth. And you sat there half amused and half worried he was having a stroke.

“I know this is forward and you can tell me to go to hell, but could I take you out sometime?”

You had caught the last of the disobedient root vegetables when you raised your eyebrows in surprise, and let yourself be shocked again as you said yes.

Carmen had nodded and smiled when you told him you weren't exactly experimental with your diet, wanting to get it out of the way when you found out he was a chef and your sensory issues had been a problem for people who didn't make food for a living.

You expected the same ritual, the same dance of having to explain your diet to people and wait for them to actually understand that your pickiness wasn't just the usual ‘dislike’, but a very real thing that impacted how you eat everyday. You had no choice in it, that's what you told them every time and they had rolled their eyes and thrown your words in your face as they compared you to a petulant child that didn't want to eat their vegetables. You sighed and they did too, as they watched you flip every menu to the page for children and you cringed as the waiter looked around for your child and realised it was you.

Carmen was different though, of course he was. He didn't let his surprise go hidden, as he asked about every food you disliked and everyone you did. Noone before asked, they simply resolved to assume your diet was constricted in the small section of the kids meal. But Carmen asked, he did all night when you had brought it up after he asked to cook for you. Sitting on your couch, talking about you, and your diet, and your sensory issues for hours until he knew everything about them.

Until he simply nodded, and wrote something in his notebook and asked if you were still free on Thursday.

Of course the family was teasing, and of course they’d all tweak any dishes you were craving so that they weren't overloading your senses in any way. You’ve got a reserved seat at the Bear, and all your favourite dishes on standby if you ever wanted to come in to find something that didn't set you off and leave you anxious and sensitive.

It gets to an alarming rate of you coming in nearly every other day, in which Richie, Carm Syd and every other person in the Bear constructed some under the table deals with dea by restaurants to accommodate your sensitivities. They all like to feign ignorance when you walk in the next day all smiles, showing off your little takeaway box from the Portuguese spot you had so desperately to try before the stark textures and flavours of the menu you perused dashed the thought away.

Carmen hated seeing that excitement turn into defeated acknowledgement of the barriers you had around food. But also, in the same breath, Carmen knows how certain textures and tastes can trigger you into getting over-stimulated, leading to becoming frazzled and irritated. Which is exactly why he would never let you push yourself too far, supporting you if you ever wanted to try it out but immediately taking the dish away from you when he realised your heart was racing too quick and you were getting stiff..

“Baby, easy. Need you to go slow, yeah?”

“Alright, that’s enough. You did good sweetheart, I’m proud of you. Lemme make you something for tonight though yeah? Something you like?”

The truth was there were going to be some days where both Carmen's creativity, and your sensory issues outdo him. You were okay with that though, you were still catching up to reality that someone loved you enough to fit their life around yours.

And then Carmen copied your meals for a week when you told him this, until the Bear was relying on his memory of taste and you finally agreed that yes, there was no fitting needed.

#neonovember #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto drabble #neo's requests #carmy berzatto masterlist #carmen berzatto imagine #fluff #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto fic #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x black!reader #carmen berzatto x picky!reader

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criesinliess · 2 years ago

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━APRIL 2023; susan's recs

FATE: THE WINX SAGA

━━RIVEN

i’m jealous of the way @imkylotrash

hold my girl @↑

call me back @randomimaginesforrandompeople

scared to death @↑

little sister @↑

one-on-one @novawrts

HARRY POTTER

━━GEORGE WEASLEY

it takes two @ickle-ronniekins

━━ DRACO MALFOY

just friends — masterlist @bwbatta

━━FRED WEASLEY

selfish @george-fabian-weasley

━━OLIVER WOOD

blind to it @heloisedaphnebrightmore

MARAUDERS ERA

━━SIRIUS BLACK

all your fault @heloisedaphnebrightmore

absurd ideas @↑

crimes of jealousy @↑

gentle seduction @↑

cause i don't want you like a best friend @evermoreal

━━JAMES POTTER

five times james wanted to kiss you and the one time he did @moonlitmeeks

hey, james! @heloisedaphnebrightmore

LOCKWOOD & CO

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

knight in shining armour @givemea-dam-break

the poltergeist @↑

jealousy @↑

how to dance @↑

hidden by the new stars @↑

stunning @vi-trying-to-survive

you can hear it in the silence @tangledinlove

just another love song @↑

pretty boy @maraschinomerry

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

he just sounds like that @amsgrey

of antidotes @honeyfict

dense @↑

love language @genyakosstyk

dive into the waves below @↑

of kings @yelenasbraid

everything @theowritesstuff

deathly fever @webslinger-holland

another dream @↑

take it slow @amsgrey

━━NIKOLAI LANTSOV

yours no more @theowritesstuff

wanting was enough @genyakosstyk

OUTER BANKS

━━RAFE CAMERON

dating john b's sister @a-aexotic

midsummers @butgilinsky

blueberry pancakes @↑

tension @↑

and isn't it just so pretty to think? @folkloreslovechild

heartbroke bitch; guess you really did it this time; kiss for kiss, heart for heart; a crack in the glass @fandomxpreferences

dirty litte secret @↑

passenger princess @sunraies

cupcakes and rainstorms @↑

fair play @laiiaaa

dancing with our hands tied @forevermoreharrington

━━JJ MAYBANK

hot for a pogue @butgilinsky

the last year @↑

the part where you kiss me @laiiaaa

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

sink in @nymphlamp

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

delirium @kyber-crystal

head in the clouds @↑

MARVEL

━━BUCKY BARNES

the last first kiss @witchywithwhiskey

almost believing @intrepidacious

insomnia @↑

first date, last night @↑

not even a little @↑

heal me, baby @↑

━━STEVE ROGERS

moving on @intrepidacious

━━LOKI LAUFEYSON

clouded judgement @heloisedaphnebrightmore

silly misgardian @↑

SCHOOL SPIRITS

━━WALLY CLARK

hopes and fears @general-fanfiction

i want to help @anthemabby

STRANGER THINGS

━━STEVE HARRINGTON

love her too @divine17

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nobitchs-world · 9 months ago

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Me after Carmen yelled at me until his face turned red and his neck veins were popping out

(Why you gonna do me like that stink? 😞)

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blackynsupremacy · 6 months ago

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BEING NEIL FAK’S

GIRLFRIEND

HEADCANONS

pairing: neil fak x blackfem!reader

fandom: the bear (2022—)

i feel like no one really writes for fak and i love him as a character, so why not?

summary: neil fak has a girlfriend, but the guys think he’s bullshitting until she shows up for the opening night of the bear.

contains: lots of words, fluff, richie being richie, cursing, two people who love each other, hating ass motherfuckers, insecurity, fear of rejection.

• it was 2 weeks before the bear’s grand opening.

• neil, carmen, richie, and marcus were all having a smoke break outside in the back just kicking it.

• the guys were talking about various topics until carmy started asking for relationship advice.

• of course richie and marcus are putting in their two cents until they hear….

• “to be honest my girlfriend and i wouldn’t even have to go through that shit. we’d just talk it out and stuff our face afterwards! you and claire bear should do the same.”

• there was a deafening silence from the other men because that came from…fak. neil fak!

• what the guys didn’t know was that neil fak has been in an relationship with you for almost 2 months now. he’s been keeping it under wraps because he knew the guys would shit on him for it, but he had to come clean eventually. you always raved about him to your friends because you’re proud of the adorable, loyal, hilarious neil fak, so why shouldn’t he show the same energy?

• he was still a bit in denial that a woman is actually…attracted to him.

• marcus is like “whoa whoa whoa. hold the fuck up. fak…you got a girl?” he genuinely questioned. now, he was curious!

• carmen was confused as well, but he shrugged it off tbh. as long as fak was happy with someone he genuinely connected with.

• richie doesn’t hesitate to think it’s straight up bullshit. fak can’t talk to a woman without crashing out or making a bumbling fool out of himself. let alone being in a relationship!

• ouch! harsh, richie. fak inwardly cringed because he genuinely thought the same thing. he never really felt like he was good enough for that type of thing, but that sinking feeling disappeared at the thought of you when marcus asked how’d you guys met and got together.

• neil could recount that day a million times if he had to.

• you were living it up in your new apartment until your damn refrigerator broke. you didn’t want to go through the hassle of ordering a whole new one, so before doing that you decided to have someone to fix it.

• the only person you ever make an interaction with is your best friend, sydney adamu. you’ve been hyping her up as she goes through the trials and tribulations of rebranding the former restaurant known as “the original beef” to a new type of place.

• you called her up and explained your dilemma.

• “hey, syd. i got a stupid question.”

• “there are no stupid questions, (n/n).”

• you both chuckle at your inside joke, before informing her about the broken refrigerator and asking if she knew anyone who could fix it without charging an arm and a leg.

• “i might know a guy…he’s a bit of a character, but he’s got a heart of fucking gold and he mainly gets the job done. his name is neil fak, but we just call him fak at the restaurant. i’ll see if i can get him to come by tomorrow to look at it. if not, i’ll beat the shit out of him by denying my best friend’s broken fridge.”

• syd’s dry and chaotic humor never fails to make light of the shittiest situation. you quickly agreed because there’s no way you’re gonna let your food rot.

• the next morning, syd sent you a text that fak has accepted the job. you silently cheered and replied by sending her a time and your address to pass on the message.

• fak had been approached by sydney for a side job in the city. he accepted without any question because he could use the extra cash! he told sydney he could go over to your place asap once he knows the time and place. sydney did just that before he gathered all of the necessary equipment before making his way towards your home.

• he went up the stoop and pressed on the doorbell and waited about 10 seconds before he was beheld a vision. a vision with the most alluring, brown eyes and deep bronze toned skin. your natural hair was in the style you desired to be and it looked amazing! not to mention your inviting smile and melodious voice when you introduced yourself.

• “hey! you must be neil fak, right? i’m f/n l/n, i’m a friend of sydney’s.”

• you held out your hand for him to shake. to say that neil was nervous was an understatement. he stammered a bit before getting himself together, giving you an introduction of himself and shaking your hand. something occurred as you two touched hands. fuck, fuck, fuck! he thought as that touch alone made him feel— warm, tingly, safe? but what had him stressed was that his hands tend to get sweaty as shit when he’s nervous.

• “a-ah, y-yeah! i’m neil fak. just call me fak! um, so, uh, you have a broken fridge. let me say this if my fridge ever broke down like that, i personally think that i would fucking explode.”

• you stood there in silence for a millisecond before you burst out in laughter. fak took the words out of her mouth. you couldn’t deny that it was such a huge inconvenience especially to your love of snacks. “i know that’s right! you’re real for that. sydney has told me some good things about you, neil-er, fak. my bad! but seriously— i believe her when she said you’re a trip, but good people. you’re hilarious! ah, damn, i’m rambling. please come inside.” you stepped back to let him in and lead him to the issue in the kitchen.

• you couldn’t help, but catch a pleasant vibe from the mustached man that was rumbling through the inside and back of your refrigerator. as he was working, you guys just conversed as if you two weren’t strangers. you just clicked instantly!

• to some, fak may have looked like a sleaze with his loud voice, numerous tattoos, interesting fashion choices, short stature, and his bushy stache, but his qualities as a person overshadowed all of those things. deep down he’s caring, sensitive, outgoing, and sometimes he has his moments, but who doesn’t? he also wasn’t making any type of insensitive remarks or jokes (ifykwim).

• once he successfully fixed the fridge, you were so hyped that you gave that man a hug and an enthusiastic handshake thanking him for his help. you asked how much he charged and what payment method worked for him.

• he didn’t want to charge you that much or at all because your constant laughter at his stand up material was filling his heart more than his pocket. he really wanted your number, but he didn’t just want to ask for that without looking stupid, so he suggested apple pay and gave you a discount! smooth move, fak.

•you put your number in his phone, sent him the payment, and let him know that you were saving it because you would like to see him again more often whether it’d be for his services or not, so in a way you urged him to keep yours saved in his phone also.

• fak was crashing out on the inside. did you just say that you want to see him? more often? whether he’s fixing something or not?

•he kept his cool, gathered his equipment, and went on home. from that moment fak felt he found someone and someone found him. not just fixing things or cracking jokes, but for genuine company.

• from that day on, you and fak have been texting each other non-stop. checking in, sending memes, having deep conversations about the most insane topics, and laughing out loud late at night on the phone. sometimes he would come over to play a card game, watch a movie, or just kick it with some good food. you’ve never realized how much in common you and fak share. it was just the chemistry that drawn you too closer.

• ya’ll have been talking for about 3 weeks now and you can’t help but to admit that you care for neil…so much! you two are totally different people and to some, you’re built like you’re out of fak’s league. well, fuck whoever says that! looks doesn’t define who you want to spend your time with. everyone’s got their beauty. you could give 2 fucks if people talked about your connection with neil. you were just wondering if he felt the same.

• you invited him to your place to watch a jim carrey double feature of the mask and ace ventura: pet detective. you and fak have always agreed that jim carrey is a comedic genius.

• as you both sit on your couch and watch the credits roll, fak announces that he’ll leave, so that you can get some rest. you can’t sleep knowing you got these feelings and there’s this opportunity right in front of you. you hold on to his hand before he could take another step out of the door. your eyes not pulling from his. he raises his eyebrows as his pupils glint with expectancy, yet worry. he asks you if everything is okay and you swallow before you make your declaration.

• “fak…i need to ask you something. what do you think of me? do you think of me as just a friend? someone to kick it with? or someone to listen to your jokes, fears, hopes, and insecurities? am i someone that you would be proud of the way i’m proud of you? do you see more than just what’s on the outside?” you squeezed his hand.

• you paused to take a breath before you finish.

• “i don’t care what people say about our connection. i need to know because i can’t fucking take it anymore. neil fak, do you care about me the way i care about you?”

• neil was frozen. he absorbed every single syllable that came out of mouth. he has always had those same exact thoughts whether he’s helping to fix an appliance or you two are out trying a new restaurant that one of you recommended. fak thought he was too much of a chickenshit to even cross that line with you. he wanted so badly to express that you mean everything to him. you’re a fucking goddess to him and he’s just…fak. he can’t help, but get a little envious when richie, nat, and carmen had their respective partners while he was although happy for his friends, he was the 7th wheel.

•he’s calmer. he tries to see things with more of an open mind. hell, because of you he’s got a skincare routine! he feels ♾️ % with you if that makes sense. you don’t try to change him because you don’t need nor want to. you just want neil. that loveable person who doesn’t judge you. not just fak the comedian or the handyman.

• f/n…you’re so, so much more than that and i’m so fucking sorry that i didn’t say any of this sooner because i’ve been feeling like this ever since i’ve fixed that refrigerator. i want you to be happy and i want you to laugh a lot. i’ve never really been into this kind of thing before, so i don’t know what exactly i’ll be able to do for you, but i’ll always be by your side…if-if you want me to—mmph!”

•that was all you needed to hear before you pulled him for a kiss. it took him a moment to melt into it, so you started it off gentle and sweet as you wanted to take this relationship one step at a time, so you and neil would always ride the same wave together.

• after fak finishes retelling his friends how you guys came to be. they started bombarding him with all sorts of questions.

• “is she hot?” “what’s her name again?” “what does she do for a living?” “ have you guys fucked?” “do you have a pic of her?”

• fak was overwhelmed trying to answer each question except that fourth one which earned richie a whack to the head by carmen for asking some personal shit like that. “have some fucking class, will you?”

• fak refused to show any pictures you two share together. it was definitely not because he thought you were unattractive. fuck, no! you’re the most gorgeous woman he’s ever had the pleasure of breathing the same air with. like he thought before, the guys (especially richie) would think he’s got the pictures of the internet or some shit. he had a way better idea than that: he was going to invite you to opening night to watch him work and make these fuckers eat their words. he told them to watch for the girl in the red dress and the name for the table is f/n.

• 2 weeks til open has passed and the bear is now ready to welcome the community with open arms.

•everyone was shitting bricks, but they’ve worked their asses off for this vision and they can’t pussy out now.

• fak had tingles from head to toe.

• you and him usually had casual outings, so it would be the first time you saw him in his brown suit and you in that red dress you ordered from fashion nova for this event. it looked good on the model of the pic you sent, but fak’s round face flushed with red envisioning the clothing on you.

• the doors flipped open and the patrons for the first night of many are greeted by fak or richie then escorted to their tables as their meals are being meticulously prepared.

• richie’s eyes are perusing around the place before they stop on a feminine silhouette and— holy fucking shit. who is she?

• the red satin accentuated her body. highlighting every bump and curve. the dress had spaghetti straps and was low-cut, exposing the shimmering, melanated skin of her arms and chest. her hair was curled and styled to perfection as the amber hue in her pupils are made noticeable by the violet eyeshadow that was applied on the lid as well as her full lips were painted like a red candied apple.

• goddamn, she was like a fucking…real life jessica rabbit, but hotter. if it wasn’t for whoever the lucky bastard is with her, eva would’ve had a new stepmom a-fucking-sap!

• his trance is broken from a female voice. “excuse me, i have a reservation under the name, f/n. my boyfriend works here actually. i think i see him right over there!”

• cue the record scratching. richie may forget alot of things, but he never forgot when fak told him and the guys about this mysterious girlfriend of his named…holy fuck!

• the girl in the red dress. f/n. it’s you! you’re the one who stole neil fak’s heart. richie was feeling like the biggest idiot in the universe as he saw fak catch your glimpse from across the room before excusing himself from a table and power walking in your direction to take you into a loving embrace before you plant your ruby lips on his mustached ones.

• you just couldn’t help yourself! you know he’s at work, but he looks so cute and professional in his brown suit and slicked back low ponytail. he’s also wearing that new cologne you randomly gifted him and now you really don’t want to leave his side. your man, your man, your man.

• neil took it upon himself to escort and seat you at your table. he enthusiastically explains tonight’s menu with such confidence and passion as you peer lovingly at him through your lashes with a palm under your chin. if it were physically possible, you would have literal hearts in your eyes.

• don’t you just love it when your partner is in their element? he was made for this and you were so proud.

• fak excuses himself back to the kitchen to find richie already crashing out to carmy and marcus.

• “guys! it’s fak’s girlfriend. she’s fucking real…and hot as fuck! look out there at table 9, the broad in the red dress. that’s all fucking fak!”

• fak lets out an exclamation for richie to cool that shit down, but deep down he was eating it up as carmy and marcus peered out to see the hype at table 9 and what they saw had them gagged.

• marcus’ jaw dropped and his heart thumped at the sight of you. “oh…”

• carmy’s eyes looked upon you, his eyebrows raised as his cheeks fluttered with red, finishing marcus’ sentence, “shit.”

• he already felt bad considering the fact that he has a girlfriend. (not for long after tonight)

• neil grinned as the guys gave their envious, but sincere congratulations to him before they got too distracted to get back to work.

• neil fak was indeed blessed as he waved at the woman in red at table 9. his abdomen rumbled with butterflies when you waved back and blew a good luck kiss in his direction.

• yes, you were all fak, but fak was all you too.

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mcondance · 1 year ago

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violet crazy, written for carmen berzatto

note not proofread and i am high as fuck listening to violet crazy by dpr ian

busy days. busy weeks. busy months. busy. all the time.

except, now.

laying in bed with carmen, kissing and talking, you're both completely free.

carmen's hands are free, too, rolling you up and on top of him between a kiss and a gaze with those pretty blues that has him blinking with heavy eyes and reaching up to pull you back down to his lips.

with a hand on your neck, he kisses you, his other drawing shapes on your waist. your hands find the sides of his face, feeling his face crest and wave with his movements against your hungry lips. his tongue slips into your mouth first, his head moving with the way he licks into your mouth, and your hands move down to wrap in his shirt before they move down and under the hem of it.

you both separate just long enough to slip the shirt off him, and then your lips are finding his and your hands find his firm chest. lifting up on your knees, you ghost your hands down his sides and to his waistband and he shivers, and you slide his sweats down, letting him distractedly kick them the rest of the way off.

carmen can feel your arousal through the fabric of those tiny little shorts, and he's forcing those off too, maneuvering so he can still reach your lips as he pulls them down.

now, fully bared as you were just hours ago, is the farthest from busy you both can get. you feel carmy slide his legs up behind you, and you're lifting up and he's reaching down to slide inside you, separating from you at last to groan "shit,” head thrown back on the pillows, hair strewn out around his head so pretty he looks like a fucking angel. so pretty that you slide down on him even more, squeezing down on his cock just from the visual.

his eyes open slowly to find your face, and he can just tell that you must think he looks so beautiful, cause you’re pushing down on his cock and squeezing him so tight.

and then you're fully connected, content and home. lips somehow intertwined again, you rock forward on him, slow and smooth and fuck, it all feels so good.

together with your lover, separated by nothing, him moving to meet your saccharine moves, feels so good.

slowly, lovingly, sweetly, sloppily you move against each other, one of his hands on your ass and the other wrapped loosely around your neck to keep you close, one of your hands on his cheek and the other wrapped over the top of his arm— it’s fucking perfect.

both of your movements grow a little more desperate, a little more sloppy, and the sound of his body against yours starts to fill the room, dancing with your lovesick whines and moans, with his candy fucking mouth— "shit, fuck, you fuckin' feel that? feel how good we feel? swallowin' me so nice, fucking me so' fuckin good, give it to me, just like fucking that," he moans, growls.

his words wind you up, cause you to fuck yourself on him even messier, your hands wrapped under his neck now.

"i'm gonna cum, make me cum," you almost beg him, and he'd never refuse you. he keeps his movements the same, gives you exactly what you need.

"'s gonna feel so good, comin' around me, lettin' me make you cum, lettin' me give it to you how you want it, how you need it." it hits you when he speaks those last words, makes your jerk and shake against him, still bringing your ass down onto him.

carmen ghosts his hands up and down your back, making you shiver and molding your orgasm into something longer, something so good it fucks your mind.

breathing heavy, you start to come down, and you find carmen's lips cause you know he can get off just from this, just from your euphoric body shaking against him as you kiss him with the knowledge of what it does to him.

he doesn't separate, sends his moans and groans into your mouth, his hands resting on the sides of your face again. he's so close, and you deepen the kiss just a little, kiss him even more syrupy than before, and fuck him just like he likes it, and he's throwing his head back on the pillows, mouth open and eyes closed, moaning from deep in his stomach.

grinding down on him, you watch him, riding his climax out for as long as you can.

"pretty girl." he smiles when he sobers up enough to speak, and you smile back and lock lips again, in love, and in it deep.

#cw weed #i'm high as fuck and listening to violet crazy by dpr ian #anyways tag #carmen smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmen x black reader #carmy x black reader #x black reader #pocwriters #carmy berzatto x black reader #carmy x you

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cloveroctobers · 2 years ago

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Carmy Berzatto — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: heavily influenced by this TikTok [user: addamsfilms] that put out the idea of bringing Rory culkin onto the show as Carmy’s blood cousin so here it is. Always liked rory so I thought why not? Also watched the show with Rory’s character they mashed up with Carmy’s “the expecting” and it was definitely weird af but I’m not really taking it in that direction lol. Definitely ended up completely different than I originally started! Some light hearted moments from a light hearted OC/Reader with a touch of heaviness because it’s still the bear after all.

*GIFS BELONG TO: @quinzelgifs + @pranink & @thepunkpanther

PROMPT from this list here: Making popsicles.

WARNINGS: kinda lengthy if you have the time, platonic carmy relationship? You tell me. Language ofc + things get physical somewhere towards the bottom, let us pray for Carmy 👀

✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

there’s this dull feeling that sits in the center of her chest but after a couple of breaths and the longer she stares at the boarded building, it goes away for now. The air is misty, the sky grey with a faint of yellow behind it; in the shape of the sun begging to be released. She’s not sure how long she’s been rotating her view of staring at the becoming of the bear and the sky but after awhile her body moves her inside.

Inside provides better warmth from Chicago’s spring that she’s peeling off her trench coat. She smells plaster, paint, and dust first before she studies the new layout that’s in mind for the restaurant. It feels much more open than the last time she set foot in here and although it’s only been a few weeks, she still feels like she might have missed out on a lot.

It’s loud inside the bear, drilling, the talking—yelling—it’s the same thing around here and knocking filling her ears as her brown eyes drift back to the only greenery inside. Her eyes go wide as she slowly steps forward to the potted Strelitzia, birds of paradise—if you prefer simpler terms, leaves beginning to droop and tan, later also finding no other than a used cigarette in its dry soil.

She lets out a scream, gaining the attention of Manny and Angel first who are quickly alerted with her presence, wearing their protective head gear before footsteps follow.

“Hey, there she is!” Richie yells as she stands up straight from her leaned over position, “welcome back to the hell hole, starstar!”

She blinks and places a small genuine smile on her face, “It looks great so far but tell me why there’s a cigarette just chilling in my plant?”

Richie glances at the said item and raises his hands in surrender, “wasn’t me this time! Take it up with thing 1 and 2.”

She dips her head, tongue pressing to the roof of her mouth until Richie brings her into a embrace, lightly shaking her from side to side. She swallows the smidge of annoyance for now, a simple hand going around to place on the 6’1 man’s back for a moment.

“Good to see ya!” Richie clicks his tongue just as more faces appear from the kitchen.

First it’s sweeps followed by Tina and Tyler who halts at the door.

“Starla! Sup girl! How’s that stomach treating you?” Sweeps holds out a fist for the girl to bump who snorts as her knuckles touches his.

She knows the man is lightly teasing her, as he analyzes the wall before taking a comfortable lean against it. Starla picks up on this and makes a mental note to ask about it later but she’s still a little annoyed that her baby is slowly failing.

“Yes, mama. How are you?” Tina wraps her arms around Starla, tenderly rubbing her back before moving to stand beside her, arm still wrapped around her waist.

“Eh…a lot better.”

Sweeps comments with a chuckle as he munches on some chips, “We told you not to eat that shit.”

“You did. I just didn’t want to be rude you know?” Was Starla’s reply as Sweeps shook his head.

“And where that get you huh?”

Richie sneezed and sniffed, “Yeah, starstar! You’ve got to kick that people pleasing habit out the way!”

This the young woman already knew, even when Tina nodded her head and continued squeezing her to her side. It was two weeks ago when she decided to try out this new “gourmet” food truck probably six blocks over and ordered some curry goat. She sent pics to the group chat and you already know that shit was fired up—except for the lack of response she received from Carmy.

Not that it mattered anyways, Starla still ate the meal in front of the owners because she was simply starving and on lunch break. Food poisoning was not fun or a good feeling but for the sake of not embarrassing the cooks on the truck…Starla ate the meal. It originally wasn’t horrible at the start, it also wasn’t the best flavor wise but it was ultimately the after that utterly destroyed Starla’s insides.

Which ended up with a nice trip to the hospital and a ugly bill in the mail a week later. Yes she was a woman down for a little while, which sucked for the bear since they needed all the help they can get. It was crazy to not only Starla but to be aware that the goal was to be open in May was mind-boggling. There was so much to do on the list and with Starla being around part-time, she helped out when she could.

Now she was back and she still didn’t know what she was stepping into.

“Hey Star,” Tyler takes his opening as he smiles at her from across the room.

Star smiles back, “Hey, Ty.”

“Glad you’re feeling okay.”

“Thanks, me too.”

Tina hums up at Starla who shushes the older curly haired woman as Tyler moves where the main counter used to be.

“I thought I heard a familiar voice in here,” Sugar greets as she leads the way with Carmy and Sydney not far behind, “how are you? Doing okay? Missed you.”

Starla lightly laughs as the blonde ambushes her with questions and hugs, “I’ve missed you too, Nat.”

“Jesus, let the girl breathe, will you?” Richie calls out while Sugar turns a icy glare to the man with the sledgehammer.

“How’s billy?” Sydney asks afterwards, “…you know the goat?”

“Wow, that joke was awful. Hi, Syd.” Starla says with her usual smile full of laughter lines as the girls share a high-five in greeting.

Starla adds, “I’m definitely vegan now and I’m also wondering why no one’s been looking after my plant.”

Of course Starla knew this was a big request to ask of anybody here and she asked numerous of times if it was okay to leave here. She was met with lots of reassurance from the Berzatto siblings and Sydney that it was fine, just to be met with her dear Cecil fighting for his life here.

“Oh fuck.” Sugar hisses as she peers over at her brother who holds a hand up from his crossed arm position, “I knew we were forgetting to do something.”

Starla pouted as she shifts her jacket from one arm to the other, “It was my mistake for thinking that this currently boarded up place had enough light for my baby.”

“It does—

Carmy starts…

“It will!” Sugar and Sydney say at the same time as Carmy starts speaking a word to Starla.

Tyler raises a finger, “I wish I would have known that was your plant, I would have taken it back to mine and my mom, who’s in town, could have looked after it. She’s good with things like that.”

“Oh no, you’ve done more than enough,” Starla fans her hand at the bandana wearing man, “Thank you though.”

Tyler dips his head with a smile again and Carmy picks up on this. It was no secret that Tyler’s been the most hands on when it came to Starla falling ill. Starla was not expecting this and appreciated the rest who did reach out to her considering they were all under intense pressure. A simple text was fine every now and then just to check in but Tyler felt the need to show up with remedies of self-care packages with the time he did make for her.

It was also no secret that Tyler had his eyes on Starla. How he would get caught just staring at her adoringly from across the room, completely checked out from any conversation he may be having with anyone else. He reached out to Carmy after hearing from Uncle Jimmy about the “shit ton” of help he was going to need in rebuilding the family business.

Carmy was reluctant on bringing Tyler in but he knew he needed more cooks and sure Tyler was only used to preparing diner meals (since that’s all he worked in back in Massachusetts and what he was familiar and comfortable with) but breakfast was Tyler’s specialty, he was eager to learn the ropes, and he had his own special craft.

Who was Carmy to deny that?

Carmy and Tyler weren’t the closest growing up, with Tyler only being a year older but it’s not like they saw each other a lot back then either. If Carmy told you that his mother, Donna Berzatto was a lot…then you can only imagine her younger sister, Lydia, who happened to be Tyler’s mother.

Donna was three years older than Aunt Lydia and once upon a time they were proven to be very close growing up from the bits and pieces Carmy remembers. Apparently Lydia was a, “Prissy man stealing whore and if she had the chance she would have stolen your father if he wasn’t in love with me instead!”

Whatever transpired between his mother and Tyler’s had nothing to do with Carmy’s relationship with his cousin. They just never saw each other, Tyler was heavily into science as a kid, with aliens being at the top of the list, and easily socializing with others whereas Carmy had a stutter that made him shy, studying denim along with ways to style jeans snd preferred world travel books. They emailed a couple of times as kids until Tyler started going to camp and Carmy rather stick to seeing what Michael was up to.

“Look uh, Star. I’m sorry about the plant—

“Cecil.”

Carmy blinked, “what?”

“His name, it’s Cecil.”

Carmy looked around at all the other faces in the room with him right now, resulting in wide eyes from Sugar, a shrug of shoulders from Syd, a stern look from Tina, amusement on Tyler’s face and Sweeps just continued eating unfazed.

“Show some fucken respect, Carmy. StarStar said the things name is Cecil. Cecil the plant! so address it as such!” Richie yelled out to the stressed man.

Starla thought she saw Carmy’s eye twitch and she was expecting that to become an argument between the two men—like usual—but Carmy simply just ran his hands over his face in distress. Exhaling he stepped forward to rest his hands on Starla’s shoulders.

“Want to catch up in the kitchen for a sec, Star?” Carmy asked, peering at the woman.

Starla answers, “sure.”

And with that they exit the deconstructed room to head into the kitchen together but not without a set of wondering eyes. Starla follows Carmy into the office where he awaits for her to take a seat while she’s stops, staring at the hole in the wall.

She pointed while Carmy exhales, “just another thing to add to the list.”

“Okay…so fill me in.”

“Have a seat first.”

“Oh god.”

“No, it’s not anything like that.”

Starla takes a seat, eyes going over some paint swatches for the new office and tilted her head at the sight, trying to fully picture it.

“First and foremost, how are you holding up?”

Starla wiggled in her seat, fixing her imaginary bow around her neck, “Oh! Just dandy, Mr. Berzatto. I sure do appreciate your sentiments.”

Carmy snorts, reaching forward to lightly shove her knees away playfully, “okay, wise ass. No but seriously, you’re doing okay?”

“Always! Of course,” Starla beams with a fan of her hand, “When am I not?”

Carmy presses his elbows into his knees, “uh two weeks ago when you were puking and shitting your brains out?”

“I don’t need the throwback visuals. I lived it already, thanks.” Starla crossed one leg over the other.

Carmy clears his throat, “uh right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Uh huh…are you okay, Chef?”

Carmy shifts his eyes back from the tunnel that wants to set in, a flash of white almost appearing above Starla’s head as he focuses in on the question that’s asked of him.

“Hm?”

“Is something bothering you? Want to talk about it?”

“Oh no,” Carmy frowns with a brief close of his eyes, “I didn’t bring you back here to talk about me. I wanted to check in with you because I know I haven’t been as attentive as I could have been when you were down and I want to apologize for that.”

Starla shrugs, “all I care about is Cecil. His growth should be much bigger and that was a bit of a let down.”

Carmy begins bouncing his leg, “And I don’t ever want you to feel that way because of me, especially when it was my responsibility to at least look out for the damn plant.”

“Talk to it, water it, give it sunlight, and breathe it in.” Starla listed.

“…that salt you’re throwing…stings you know?”

Starla let’s out a small laugh, “well there was a cigarette just lingering in his soil. How is he supposed to grow if there’s nothing but toxins being placed on his roots?”

Carmy couldn’t say much to that since he couldn’t recall if he was the culprit who may or may not have thrown the stick in there on his way out. He also felt like Starla was giving him some philosophy lesson since she tended to do that without notice sometimes. And whenever he pointed it out, she’d just whisper her grandfather’s name who was a retired philosophy professor down at Columbia College Chicago.

“Heard,” carmy remembers to breathe, “I fucked up.”

“Kinda but that’s okay. I won’t hold it against you,” Starla placed her hand on top of Carmy’s, who briefly stares down at their hands together, “We all do sometimes and I’ll get Cecil back together.”

“I have no doubts about that,” Carmy answers, “you’re the one with the green thumb.”

“And apparently Tyler’s mom is too.”

Carmy sits back at that, suddenly quiet which makes a frown attempt to make it’s way on Starla’s round face.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That thing you just did with your face.”

“I just look like this, what do you want me to do?” Carmy was confused and Starla can’t help but to snort out a laugh.

Starla gets to her feet, brown coat held in her hands, “okay car…”

“Are we good?” Carmy stares up at her.

Starla pauses, pretending to think about it, “Duh! I don’t know if you know this Carmy but i consider you family and you’re stuck with me.”

Carmy felt a crooked smile itching to break onto the corner of his lips but he just shakes his head at the brunette. He’s not sure how to feel about that or if he should feel a way about that but at least it’s something.

At least she’s not pissed at him.

The thing about Starla is you’re never sure when she’s upset. She’s usually the happy go lucky one in the restaurant, the soft spoken one. Carmy quickly learned why Michael liked having her around. She brought a sense of peace during the chaos. Starla was as interesting as it comes since she had the culinary experience but didn’t feel the obsession with it.

Cooking became a hobby and once it became a profession she learned it wasn’t something she was in love with like other chefs. She wasn’t ready to devote her entire life into the craft and respectfully she stepped away from it. Until she came across Chicagoland, ready to order until she heard Michael Berzatto yelling about the lack of ingredients. She stepped in with a suggestion and from there, Michael wanted her in the shop for her quick thinking but gentle nature.

It wasn’t a done deal by any means, she proved herself in the kitchen with her out of the box thinking. Yes she went to school for a year, almost two, which she learned a lot spending time in the Netherlands but that didn’t feel like her purpose. It just felt like a experience that she was grateful for and could share with others from time to time but she enjoyed the roots of culinary arts in different spaces.

Which means most of her time was spent working at farmer’s markets and tending to farms (yes in Chicago!) and community gardens. That’s where her heart lay but she had to be honest and say a piece of it would always be here too.

“Good, Good.” Carmy states as he’s now on his feet, resting his arm across Starla’s shoulder, beginning to lead her out of the office while his phone buzzes.

Starla sighs, “you know what would make this tense energy better?”

“What’s that?” Carmy searches his pocket for his phone, peeking at it but continued holding it in his hand.

She rests her head against his shoulder in deep thought, “Making popsicles.”

“Marcus is still in Copenhagen.”

“Please. I’m well aware, that’s my other bestie. Location on at all times.” Starla stares at Carmy as if he’s just offended her.

Carmy scratches at his brow, thankful that his phone stopped buzzing, “that’s a thing?”

“Heck yeah it is! You can’t just send my bestie away to another country and not expect me to not keep consensual tabs on him! And I would do the same thing for each and everyone of you if they decide to leave for awhile.”

Carmy stops walking as he looks at Starla, “and what if you decide to leave?”

“Then…I guess that means I’d truly wouldn’t want to be found. Which would take a lot for me to do, I’m sure.” Starla faces the wild-haired man who pinched at his bottom lip in thought.

Carmy recently had this dream—or nightmare of Starla calling it quits. He summed it up as Starla breaking free—and that’s on high school musical! There were haunting cellos, the setting was iridescent but gritty and Carmy couldn’t see Starla’s face. He just knew they were sitting face to face on a white solid floor that turned into milk and he kept wanting to reach out to her but couldn’t. He felt his mouth moving but couldn’t hear anything but the cellos.

carmy didn’t know what that would mean if that became reality.

“Popsicles in the middle of April? I don’t know about that, we’re still trying to get the repairs done because we really can’t fail another inspection.” Carmy informs Starla who grips his shoulders.

“Listen, we can all use a beach day.”

“I’m not going to beach.” Carmy’s nose scrunched in distaste.

Starla pokes at his chest, “Okay fine! We don’t have to physically go there but I’ll bring the beach to you.”

“How is that going to work?”

“You have all this extra space now.” She taps her temple.

“There’s mold in the back room, holes in the walls, Syd and I are still working on the menu, walls that still need to be painted, inspections that need to be approved, new furniture that’s been placed in storage—

“And we will get to all of that. I’m sure all of the progress that you’ve made still counts for something and I can’t wait for you to realize that.” Starla told Carmy as she squeezed his shoulders, “and I’m gonna make you a appointment with my mom so she can get those boulders out of your shoulders but first…popsicles!”

Just like a flash of a camera, Starla whirls by him, pushing the kitchen doors open as she claps her hands getting the attention of everyone, “friends! May I have your attention, please?!”

“Guys! Star’s talking!” Tyler calls out to the rest, eyes solely set on her.

Starla winks at the round blue-gray eyed man across the room in thanks before clearing her throat, “Carmy and I are proposing the idea of a summer’s day.”

“Which means what? I don’t follow.” Tina asks, figuring that maybe a new culinary term she may have missed out on.

“I’m gonna go striking?!” Richie raises his fist in the air with a wide grin full of teeth.

Sydney immediately shields her face, “Oh please no.”

“Hearing that is making me nauseous again.” Sugar covers her mouth.

“You better not, don’t nobody want to see that.” Tina points at the taller man who just kisses his lips at the Latina.

“What?! I’ve got a great body,” Richie defends, “Just ask Freya!”

Fak pokes his head out from around the corner, “I believe you buddy! I’ve accidentally walked in on them once—

“Whoa! Hey! Shut the fuck up, please.” Carmy scowls, not wanting his old time friend to finish that sentence.

“Love you man, thanks for having my back! Unlike some people.” Richie slaps Fak on his back while glaring at Carmy who sneers at him in response.

Starla puts her hand on Carmy’s shoulder while sending a look to Richie who stands back on the balls of his feet, slowly putting his F U motion down from his chin once he realized Starla’s brown eyes were on his.

“As I was saying…we’re bringing summer to the bear a little early! Which means—

She lightly bumps Carmy’s shoulder to finish, “which means uh, making popsicles.”

“Making popsicles?” Sweeps asks, “I’m down.”

“And what else?” Carmy whispers to Starla.

Starla tells, “and we’re gonna have a beach day basically.”

“How are we gonna do that? Are we actually going to beach?” Tina questions.

Carmy quickly tossed in, “No. we don’t really have the time.”

“But we have time to make popsicles?” Sydney holds her arms out in bafflement.

It’s Carmy’s turn to stare at his partner considering her very valid concerns, “Look I know this is unexpected coming from me. However I’m taking my conversation with Star into consideration and will allow this break as a uh—as a learning experience for us all. I’m not the best at desserts and treats so this’ll give us the chance to bond and get inspired by your inputs by contributing this to the menu.”

“Wow, Carmy. That was beautiful.” Fak cradles his wrench to his chest while Carmy just shrugs, briefly glancing at Starla who smiles at him.

Sugar lifts her shoulder, “whatever, I can use a beach day.”

“You just pulled that out of your ass but I’m fucken tired of looking at these walls so why not?” Richie tossed the sledgehammer over his shoulder, making Angel quickly side-step out of the way.

Carmy ignores Richie again, “Angel, Manny. You guys can head on home and we’ll save you some of the popsicles for you to try tomorrow. Thanks for your work today.”

“You got it boss.”

“Good luck!” Angel chucks up the deuces as he leads the way through the kitchen.

Tina raises her hand, making Carmy point at her, “Jeffery, you said you’re not much of dessert guy so who’s gonna lead us on this?”

“Is it gonna be you, Star?” Sydney asks.

It’s Tyler’s turn to raise his hand, “Um, I can show everyone.”

Carmy blows out a breath, “I was hoping you say that.”

Everyone found themselves gathered in the kitchen, the heart of the bear as Tyler awkwardly held everyone’s attention. Breakfast maybe his specialty but slushies counted as breakfast just as much as smoothies. And popsicles were in the same category right? Tyler knows what he was doing, he swears! Starla stood right beside him, resting a hand full of comfort on his arm which made him stand up a little taller.

“Walk us through the steps, Chef.” Carmy tells his cousin, swaying from one foot to the other as Tyler swallows his nerves but nods his head.

Tyler clasps his hands together, “Okay so popsicles. It’s a lot easier than some might think and I believe we have all the tools we need…depending on what type of popsicles we’re interested in making.”

“I’m sure whatever you choose will be tasty.” Sugar encourages as she leans against one of the tables.

Tyler smiles a bit at his family member, “okay so what you would do is select the fruits you want as your main flavors. I know we have some fruits we can spare, perhaps the raspberries and pineapples?”

“Whatever you need, Chef.” Carmy replies.

Tyler continues, “Thank you Chef. We’re going to chop those fruits up and set half of them to the side but depending on the consistency you want, keep to the side or you can blend the other half or the entire fruit if that makes sense. From there you want to pick your liquid, I personally think rice milk is fire and also your safe bet if you’re serving to a party of people for the first time.”

“Rice milk? That’s a choice.�� Sydney hums as she takes this in.

“Yes, Chef. I think it has the best consistency out of all the milks but I’m sure you and Carmy will figure out the best options if this becomes a keeper.”

Sydney glimpses at Carmy who holds her stare before they both turn back to Tyler. Starla also takes notice of this but figured that their thing and has nothing to do with her so she gives Tyler her time.

He goes on about selecting a sweetener of choice, he likes agave nectar, and possibly a hint of something cool, which is optional, like mint whether fresh or with syrup along with a splash of lime. Tina, Sydney, and Richie are on chopping duty while Tyler, Starla, and sweeps tend to the liquids.

Carmy is supervising it all, watching syrup come together as one in a pot before they have to get combined with the fruit. Tyler asks carmy for a few important tools, curious if that was something the restaurant owned for this snack since it’s not what he used back home at the diner. They don’t have the right machine to freeze the popsicles in minutes, which is okay Starla notifies, saying that they can actually venture off to the beach day as she disappears for a good twenty minutes while the rest carry on.

Starla spins around Carmy, seeming brighter as Tyler is using a stainless steel confectionary funnel to pour the soup like popsicle into the molds that sat on the counter. He then encourages everyone to do the same with the set of molds before bringing them to the freezer.

“That shit looks good as fuck, how long do they have to sit for?” Tina asks with a lick of her lips.

Tyler is wiping his hands on a rag, “I’d say at least six hours.”

“Six hours?! It’s already three o’clock.”

Tyler pursed his lips but appears apologetic, “If we had those huge instant freezers then we wouldn’t have to wait as long but time flies fast.”

“I’m leaving at six by the latest, make sure you guys save me one.” Sugar orders with a smile.

“What’s next?”

Fak exhales, “Man, That was shortest break ever.”

“It’s not over yet,” Starla places her hands on the counter, “please head to the beach oasis where the lockers once were.”

Murmurs fill the kitchen area as everyone heads in the direction mentioned. There sat a few beach chairs, towels, decorative sand, a umbrella, a projector that showed the ocean, along with the nagging sound of seagulls, and finally LED studio lights that mimics the hot sun during a summer’s day.

“Whaaaat!” Fills the room as everyone stared around the space in awe.

Starla calls out, “Welcome to a beach day at the bear, friends!”

“There’s actually a cooler here full of beer, hard lemonade and sandwiches. I’m sold and I love you, kid!” Richie yells, ready to yank his arms out of his shirt but not without yanking Starla’s cheeks to place a kiss on her forehead before stalking back to the sand.

Starla watches in peace as everyone makes themselves comfortable from sitting down or lounging in the faux sand.

“You really went all out,” Carmy says from beside Starla, “how long have you had this planned?”

“It’s been on my mind for awhile actually but it really came into effect after I learned about all these inspections,” Starla confesses, “Go on, look at the water, listen to the waves and the seagulls. Really enjoy it and be one with nature.”

Enjoyment? What’s that?

Carmy scratches at his hair, “…I’ll try as long as you officially promise you’re gonna be with us on opening night?”

“Do you really want another chopped on your hands?” Starla inquires.

Carmy looks up at the ceiling thinking about it. He’s heard about Starla’s unaired episode on chopped and how that was the third straw on her not wanting to seriously cook anymore. He figured it was traumatic enough especially since there’s footage that’s not been seen. He felt for Starla truly but he wasn’t afraid to push because he felt she needed to be on his team. If Michael saw it in her then, Carmy definitely saw it too.

“You’re better than that.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

“Nothings perfect and I accept that.”

“Well I don’t.”

“Carmy, Starla’s said before that she doesn’t know if she’ll be with us in the kitchen on opening night and we should just respect that. Im sure she’ll still be here to support regardless if she has on a apron or not.” Tyler cuts in, making them both realize that he had been right beside them this entire time.

Carmy turns his stare to Tyler then, “I didn’t really ask for your input on this, Tyler. I’m the one that gets the say on building this team.”

Tyler sighs, “I’m just saying if you’re trying to keep your team then maybe you shouldn’t just only see your point of view. That’s all.”

Carmy’s tone is clipped now, “I’m sorry, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Starla’s been saying that she doesn’t feel enjoyment in cooking anymore. It just a hobby but Michael wanted her here and you’re kinda forcing her to still be here, although it’s part time. Don’t you get that it sounds like guilt tripping?”

“Are you serious?” Carmy glared at Tyler now, “do you honestly think I have to force anyone to be here? Like I’m not building this to actually be worth something? Worth something that people want to work here, put their soul into? Anybody can fuck off, including you.”

“Hey, Car.” Starla steps forward pushing his finger down as she looks back at Tyler who’s brows are raised, “Ty. Let’s calm down.”

“Honestly…screw that.” Is Tyler’s retort, “Just because he owns this place doesn’t mean he gets to shit on everybody else that may see and think differently from him. He doesn’t really appreciate you, Star. Not enough to let you go.”

“What’re you saying, you asshole?”

“I think you know what I’m saying, you’re just choosing not to hear it or deal with it.” Tyler is calm but his voice holds weight to it.

The sound goes right out of Carmy’s ears as Starla and Tyler share words. He didn’t know why Tyler thought he can come in here, after Carmy allowed him to be here and try to talk shit to him? Tyler didn’t know anything. He was just as new to this place as Carmy once was and he didn’t understand why Tyler felt the need to come at him right now? He’s been as patient as he can with Tyler, picking up on his weaknesses easily in the kitchen but kept them to himself.

He was family after all.

They didn’t get the chance to talk much when it came to Tyler’s personal connection to the kitchen or anything really but here he was speaking on Starla. Like Carmy was a crap person for wanting to see Starla reach her potential. He couldn’t fathom that Tyler was trying to tell him about her. Carmy’s been around Starla much longer than Tyler was and he didn’t miss how he was all puppy dog eyes whenever she was around.

He couldn’t blame him but he also couldn’t stand it.

Carmy usually wasn’t the impulsive one and tended to disassociate from all situations that ended up being too much. He was used to people belittling him and talking at him instead of with him. So he may have been triggered and didn’t realize that he pulled Starla out of the way to get to Tyler.

Until the sound entered his ears again.

“Carmy!”

It was sugar’s voice that brought him back into the scene. He was held up against the wall by Richie, with Sugar trying to get his attention but his eyes continued to search around. Tyler was getting up from the ground, holding his throat while Tina and Sweeps checked on his well-being.

On the floor sat Starla, holding her side, steel table slightly pushed to the side as her eyes swam with tears and Sydney stayed crouched in front of her. Both women turned their gaze to Carmy who was fighting to remember to breathe.

What did he do?

“You tried to rough him up, cousin.” Richie declared as Carmy’s glaciers fought to settle on Richie.

Sugar grips her brother’s face, feeling a bit of déjà vu, “ I love you, Carmen. Please…just calm down for me.”

And as he looked at his sister, he somewhat was.

“You good?” Richie asked, arm still pressed against Carmy’s chest but it was almost like he felt nothing.

Not until he noticed the swinging of the doors, signaling that Tyler was now out of the kitchen and Starla shakily beginning to collect her things.

“Star,” Carmy croaked out, “I’m—

“No!” Starla hissed before slamming her hand on the counter as Carmy almost moved to step towards her, “NO! You don’t get to act like that and expect me to be fine, it’s not right Carmy. This isn’t. I’m tired too and I don’t know how much more you think I can give.”

Carmy feels his stomach turning, like a washing machine off track—much like his own mind, “Don’t leave.”

A watery smile appears on her facial features then and she struggles to suck in some air, making a dull ache appear in Carmy’s chest at the sound.

He was the reason, he didn’t do enough.

“That’s the problem friend,” she gets out before she walks off with her things, taking the light right with her.

Carmy wants to be left alone, hours after that. He silences Claire, Sydney is at a lost for words and that’s another feeling he can’t describe as she leaves with his sister, Tina gives him a squeeze and a look to Richie who just nods his head, before she also leaves with Sweeps accompanying her as the night falls.

Richie knows that this moment was a huge one because he’s had plenty. Carmy needed help and if what he had with Starla is truly broken, he was going to need all the support he can get. Everyone in the bear has never had that on the outside and that’s one of the reasons why everyone’s connection is so strong on the inside. Perhaps that’s what brought them all together.

He doesn’t want to stare at the younger man for long, knowing that carmy would turn his anger on him so he leaves him in the kitchen and takes a seat on a bucket at the front of the restaurant, his desired spot.

That doesn’t stop richie from yelling that he’s here for carmy if he needs him.

He hopes one day he will as he lights up a cigarette and browses Facebook, seeing a picture of Tiffany with Frank on that jackoff’s page.

Richie should block him but can’t bring himself to.

Carmy is back in the freezer, door pinned back with a box full of beef stock as the light inside flickers above his head while he checks on the popsicles. He doesn’t have the energy to find a wooden stick, so he brings the mold back into the kitchen and pushes the frozen treat from the mold.

The popsicle slides against the steel table, leaving a light trail of its liquid behind. With shaky hands, Carmy scoops up the biting cold popsicle and let’s it sit against his skin for a minute before shoving it into his mouth.

It’s the right amount of sweetness and barley tart, as it melts against his tongue while he buries his head into his forearms that rests on the counter.

Blocking out the view of the kitchen and everything in between.

“Let’s go out.”

Starla doesn’t feel like it’s appropriate given the situation but the look in Tyler’s eyes at the front door of her apartment, she doesn’t argue much on it, tossing the ice pack into the nearby sink.

Sure she has words for Tyler too, like sticking his pointed nose in her own battles when it came to her friendship with Carmy but for tonight, she needs something else.

It’s raining hard as Starla sits on the passenger side of Tyler’s beat up pick up truck and he lets up off the gas as they locate a bar. He keeps close, attempting to shield Starla from the rain with his Jean jacket but it’s like she’s on autopilot, walking at ease; almost ahead of him as bits of rain falls over her, trying to knock her down.

Starla and Tyler both share that they aren’t much drinkers (Carmy too) so they limit themselves to two to three shots before Starla’s on the dance floor. Tyler doesn’t want to be a creep but he can’t help but to keep his eyes on the woman who gets lost on the dance floor, dancing the night away and keeping her distance away from anyone that tries to share this personal time with her.

How unlike her.

“She your girlfriend?” A brown skinned woman suddenly to his left asks with bangs.

Tyler stumbles, “ah, no. Just a friend.”

“Her lost.”

“No, it’s mine.” He sternly says to the woman who nods as she rests her hand on his chest in understanding.

Starla moved to the pulsating beat, tequila running fire through her blood with each twist of her body until she feels nothing. And when she opens her eyes to the shimmer diamond lighting along with the numerous of dancing bodies surrounding her…

She should feel alone like she commonly does in a room full of people but the gleam that outlines the frame of her being, tells her otherwise and the standstill in her movements gets her going to the beat again, head held back and arms raised high up to the ceiling with a smile splitting onto her lips.

Fear will no longer be welcomed here.

✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Continue along with my summer anthology series here.

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ticifics · 2 months ago

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HARRY POTTER —

james potter .ᐟ remus lupin .ᐟ sirius black

KICK ASS —

dave lizewski .ᐟ todd haynes

ANNA KARENINA —

count vronsky

BULLET TRAIN —

tangerine

KRAVEN, THE HUNTER —

sergei kravinoff

MARVEL —

pietro maximoff .ᐟ peter maximoff

THE HUNGER GAMES —

finnick odair

AMERICAN HORROR STORY —

kit walker .ᐟ tate langdon

THE BEAR —

carmy berzatto

ADULT WORLD —

alex

THE FALL GUY —

tom ryder

ANGUS, THONGS AND PERFECT SNOGGING —

robbie

#navigation✧˖°.#masterlist #fanfiction #romance #writers on tumblr #atj x reader #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #dave lizewski #todd haynes #count vronsky #evan peters #fluff #reader insert #kit walker #tate langdon #carmy berzatto #no use of y/n

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natti-ice · 9 months ago

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18+ mdni

Lewd visual link (log into twitter to see it)

cw: size kink

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

You whimper softly as his cock springs free from his pants, it lightly grazes your sopping wet pussy as your legs dangle on either side of his lap. A deep chuckle vibrates your back as he sees your reaction “don’t be scared, sweetheart. It’s not gonna hurt you.” He gently takes your arm and places it on his cock, your hand can barely fit around the girth as you grip it. you feel his veins pulsate against your palm as you slowly start to pump his length, he gently grabs a hold of your neck with his large hand, not squeezing your throat but his thumb slowly slides up and down the nape. “Don’t be shy, use both hands. Show me how good you can be.”

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xblackreader · 1 month ago

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happy birthday to the sweetest little king (34) (pushing 40) (ancient) (three apples tall)

#jeremy allen white #x black reader #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #the bear #lip gallagher #carmy the bear #the bear tv

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orbitariums · 1 year ago

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home this christmas | carmen berzatto x black reader smut

happy christmas! wrote this in a pinch, hope u love

also, all my steve rogers fic readers— what say i finish up girls on film over winter break? just for shits and giggles. enjoy!

the drive to your family’s heirloom brownstone in brooklyn was almost impossible as you and carmy took turns navigating the snowy roads and the panic attack that was new york traffic during the holidays. it would’ve been absolute agony if you weren’t right by your lover’s side and didn’t have tons of r&b christmas classics blasting through the entire time. at the first hotel, the two of you were too exhausted to even talk to each other, but carmen’s arm still found its way around your waist like something of an unconscious mechanism. you had to smuggle yourself free in the morning. by the morning, the two of you were determined to finish up the four-hour drive and make it home for christmas.

no time for rest though. the minute you and carmy stepped in, you were bombarded with the sound of luther vandross belting christmas classics. the smell of good cooking — candied yams, sweet potatoes, collard greens, and glazed ham- overwhelmed your senses. any tension that had built up on the road was immediately released the moment you walked in, carmy holding a huge crate of ingredients that he would use to make chicken piccata.

“cuzzo!” squealed janae, your favorite girl cousin, and a recent howard u grad, as she ran up with her arms opened wide like a snow angel etched into the snow.

“hey boo,” you grinned, basking in the warmth of her hug. you held on for so long— halfway through today’s trip, carmy’s car heat stopped working and the both of you had to opt for multiple blankets and layering up in all the coats and scarves you could find, plus whatever slightly warming object was in the back of his trunk.

“hi baby, hi carmen. merry christmas!,” your mother, hustling over to the sink with a large pot full of hot water cooed out.

“merry christmas, ms. __. so good to see you, can i help you with that?” carmen asked, setting down his crate and heading over to your mother, getting straight to business.

“carmen, you know to call me denise,” your mother nagged, waving her hand at carmen dismissively. “what i keep telling you about that?! you’re family. now leave me alone and ‘gon get started with your little chef shit over there.”

carmen smiled, that deep dimple sinking into his cheek that made you fall in love with him all over again each time you saw it.

“yes ma'am,” he relented.

“ooh, your man is so fine, yn,” your sister announced as she walked into the kitchen. “and a gentleman, but we been knew that. hey, carmy. it’s good to see you, boy.”

“yeah, good to see you, too. how’s uhh— how’s benny?”

your sister scoffed,

“stupid, as always. and he don’t even cook. hey, yn!”

your sister laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“home sweet home,” you grinned, jumping right into the business of the kitchen.

the rest of the day was chaos, but the kind you could only ever love. if anything, carmy preferred this chaos to that of his family’s thanksgiving and back home. this chaos felt organized and loving, not to mention hilarious. it took so long to convince your family that carmy could really cook, but once they finally met him just a few months before and he put down a peach pie like never before, they could not shut up about how fine and talented your man was, and how he was one of the good ones.

today, the same routine. this time, watching carmen cook for your family in your family home revved up a stir deep inside of you that would linger on your mind for the entire afternoon. everywhere you turned you couldn’t help but eye him — his big arms, littered with tattoos, flexing as he stirred a pot of mashed potatoes; the way his brow dug into his forehead with concentration as he definitively scattered parsley over the chicken; his tongue darting out to lick the side of his lip when he was focusing deeply on something.

for the first time in the past 24 hours, you were practically separated from carmy. he was focusing on his dish and tending to the demands of the practically all-female kitchen (no men were allowed, bar for carmy and your aunt’s husband), so he didn’t get to talk to you, doubly engrossed in your christmas dinner duties, much either. though the times that he could sneak away or had to pass by you, he reassured you with a light squeeze around your hips or a hand on the small of your pack as he got by you. unbeknownst to him, it was only feeding the stir that was increasing by the hour between your thighs, and polluting your mind with the most unholy thoughts.

the air was thick with flour, smoke, and the smell of a grand dinner by the time you all were finished cooking. while you let the food cool, you opened gifts. carmy had something for everyone in the family, even your baby cousins, nieces, and nephews. by the end of the gift opening, everyone had agreed that carmy was their new favorite.

“merry christmas, baby,” carmy muttered against your lips, pulling you in for the first kiss you had shared for a few hours now. he placed your gift in your lap.

“merry christmas,” you smiled against his lips, which tasted like sweet wine and marshmallows, as you pulled away.

“c’mon now, what’d he get you?” your aunt hollered from her seat, clapping her hands together joyfully.

you grinned, sloughing away the paper, which was wrapped to perfection, just like everything carmy dared touch. you nearly squealed when you saw the box: black and white with big bold letters: chanel.

“baby, you did not,” you whined, frowning as you looked over at carmen. again that dimple reappeared and it took you everything not to jump his bones. he stroked his hand with his chin in that pensive way of his, his smile sheepish and yet smug.

“open it.”

you opened it slowly as if you were scared. then you practically tore it out of the box when you saw just what it was — the metallic pink chanel bag you had liked just once on instagram, posting it on your story with the caption “need.” you didn’t expect anything to come of that, and yet, here carmy was, going above and beyond to keep up with your expensive and exquisite taste. you couldn’t help but screech in excitement, waving the bag in the air while you stuck your tongue out.

“y’all look what my man got me!”

“my man, my man, my man,” some of your cousins echoed, humored, in the background.

the entire living room practically erupted with noises of affirmation and disbelief from your family.

“girl, let me hold that for you!” your cousin janae pleaded jokingly.

you broke out into a little dance on the couch, ending it with another kiss planted on carmy’s lips, pulling away with a loud smacking noise.

“you really didn’t have to, baby. i love you.”

“i love you. that’s why i did it,” carmy grinned, his eyes boring deep into yours, promising his love to you.

“i just know that’s right,” your mother called out.

dinner was active and loud, as always. carmen’s chicken piccata barely lasted, and folks were starting to compare it to your aunt’s famous fried chicken, but carmy shut that down immediately.

“nah, don’t get me in trouble,” he smirked, holding the plate you had made for him.

there was something so indescribably sexy about watching him just standing there. that he was so easily integrated with your family, so helpful, and charming enough to please your own mother and father had you weak in the knees. not to mention the insane gift. he told you he’d been saving up for a few months ever since he saw you post that, and that only made your heart melt more.

when carmy wasn’t so in his own head, he was a man of true, deep intention. you were the one who brought him back to homeostasis, to equilibrium. his mental state seemed to clear of all the “bad shit” when he laid his head on your chest, on your lap, your hands figuring their way through the ringlets of his curly hair.

“yeah, don’t get him in trouble,” the aunt in question echoed as she walked past.

“don’t worry aunty, i still like your fried chicken better. sorry baby,” you awarded carmy an apologetic kiss on the lips. “but i stand on my shit.”

“as you should,” carmen nodded, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “you like other things about me better though, yeah?”

that last part came as a low murmur against your ear, his lips just barely brushing against the lobe. the words, in tandem with his warm, familiar breath fanning against your neck, made you squeeze your legs together involuntarily. you could practically taste the wine on his lips and it made you dizzy. the stir that had been brewing inside of you for an entire day now was now changing pace, becoming quicker, more violent. if you didn’t fulfill your needs soon, you’d overflow.

you smiled to save face in front of your family, squeezing carmen’s hand as if to say “later.” but god, later couldn’t come fast enough.

the rest of the night you were glued to carmen, practically hip to hip. you sat on his lap while your family talked around the tree, and he made sure his hands caressed your thighs ever so softly, just enough to keep you reeling from his trickling touch. you wanted him to squeeze, wanted him to sink his palms into you and then some.

it wasn’t until nearly midnight that people started to pile out, and only then did you find it appropriate to head upstairs with carmen, bidding adieu to your family.

“aww, it was so good to see you yn, and you, carmen. what a blessing you’ve been to this family,” crooned one of your aunts as she also made her way out the door.

“blessed to be here. thank you guys for welcoming me, seriously. i couldn’t be luckier, holy shit. excuse my language,” carmen rambled,

the words spilled out with ease because of the wine and because he genuinely felt this way. his whole life, he’d been blessed with found family, reminding him that sometimes water could be just as thick as blood. and when you came with the package? he’d never let go.

people began to peeter out late into the night, and by the time everyone was gone, only then was it appropriate for you to bring carmy upstairs to get ready for bed.

both you and carmy spilled out a few more jokes and goodbyes before you took carmy by the hand and led him upstairs. as you were walking up there, it hit you that it was his first time being in your childhood room. you only ever stayed here when you were visiting, so it still had a very y2k theme to it that you hadn’t changed since high school. a poster of lil kim with her legs spread was plastered on your walls, along with nsync, backstreet boys, and a couple other 90s-2000s classics. you still had a half-used bottle of juicy couture viva perfume on your desk, the bow wrapped prettily around the cap.

“oh shit, it’s been a while,” you chuckled.

carmen was taking it all in, looking around with a thoughtful grin etched across his lips.

“always been a fashion girl, huh?” he prodded you.

“oh forever.”

you sidled up in front of him, so close you could feel him up against you.

“you were amazing today,” you reached up to kiss him as he towered over you, in height and energy. a soft, wet kiss that left carmy wanting more. so much so that he unconsciously wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you in even closer.

“yeah?”

“yes. i love watching you with my family. and with the kids, you just…”

“y’know, when i was cooking i kept feeling eyes on the back of my neck. any idea who that could’ve been?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up as he gazed down at you.

you shook your head knowingly, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, returning his gaze tenfold.

“no,” you replied, your voice sweet like honeydew and so, so telling.

“fuck,” carmy’s gaze seemed to deepen as his lids sunk lower, drinking in the sight of you. “don’t look at me like that, baby.”

he started to pull you closer towards him, back and back and back until you were plopped down on his bed. his legs, wide and bulky, forced you to spread yours over his lap, welcoming his thighs into a straddle.

“like what?” you asked, your eyes twinkling as you looked down at him and he looked up at you, his hands roaming your thighs freely, like an expanse of land that was entirely his property.

“like that, like you’re gonna make me do something you’ll regret.”

“regret? how could i ever regret anything you do to me, baby?” you questioned with a very intentional roll of your hips against him. you felt him grow, blossoming against your own crotch, which made you moan quietly.

“if you’re loud enough—” carmy punctuated his words with a kiss against your neck as his hands went to take off your shirt. you lifted your arms up and your shirt came sliding off, your skin exposed to the cool air. “you just might regret it.”

carmy kissed the side of your neck, eliciting a quiet huff of pleasure from your lips. you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the pleasure. his fingers danced delicately against your bare sides until finally, he rested the whole of his palms against your body, easing them up and down like he was smoothing you out.

“mm, i’ll be quiet, daddy,” you hummed, arching your back just so, his hand connecting with the small of your back and fitting right in.

“take your pants off,” he commanded quietly, his eyes practically closed as he studied you with heavy lids. the exhaustion certainly didn’t assist the horny daze he was sinking deeper into, tired and full of lustful thoughts that seemed to weigh him down.

“only if you take your clothes off too, carmy,” you whined, but you shimmied out of your pants anyway, watching him with hungry puppy-dog eyes while he did the same, yanking off his shirt, belt, and pants and throwing them halfway across the room.

“and your bra, too,” carmy said softly, his words coming out delicate like petals falling off a flower. he was completely focused on one thing, and it was you— nothing else mattered, nothing else existed. time moved slow when he watched you like this.

you started unhooking it, then carmy’s hands flung to your clasp to help you, removing it in record time and throwing it across the room. you opened your mouth to make a joke, but you were immediately silenced when his lips attached hungrily to your breast, closing in on the fat surrounding the small of your nipple while the other hand grasped onto the other.

you whined quietly and started to roll your hips against carmy even more now, grinding deep against his crotch which was covered by his boxers. you could practically feel him poking inside of you, lubricating your pussy even more than it already was.

“carmy,” you whined. “can feel you.”

“mhm?” he hummed brokenly, his breaths heavy and dysregulated. you were so warm, sharing in each other’s heat, in the still dark of your bedroom. the sheets all done up, practically untouched. he pulled away from your breast, unlatching with a soft pop of his lips. his hand replaced his mouth, feeling the warm trail that his lips left. “can feel you too, sweetheart.”

he let his hand drift down to your crotch, cupping you over your underwear, which had a big wet spot in the center.

“yeah, that’s what i feel. you’re so fucking wet, honey,” he crooned into your ear, making sure his lips brushed against your earlobe before he traveled down to kiss on your neck some more, sending shivers down your spine that made you buck your hips involuntarily into his hand. carmy chuckled that dark, smug chuckle that made you hate him and want to ride him all the same. the kind that only came out when you were being desperate— when he had control over you and not the other way around. “what’re you doing, baby? go slow, yeah? be patient.”

he made a wreck of you, obliging you anyway by circling a finger against your clit through your panties, feeling the way your slick seemed to pool endlessly at his touch. wanting to feel it on your skin.

“shut up, carmy, fuck!” you moaned quietly, your arms wrapped around his neck for balance.

he played with you just a little more, wondering just how far he could take it until your quiet moans turned into pleading whimpers, until he made you start to beg just for his fingers, so that by the time he sat you down on his lap, letting you sink all the way down onto his cock, you had no more voice to beg. that was on his mind, and yet, in his tired, sex-drunk haze, he knew to give you what you wanted now, before you went and turned the whole house into a personal fuckfest.

still, he couldn’t help but tease just once more.

“it’s christmas, honey. what’re we doing?”

“i don’t care,” you huffed. “it’s practically tomorrow, it’s like 11:30.”

carmen nearly snorted,

“need it that bad?”

you didn’t reply, and so he asked you again, this time with a kiss of his lips against your neck, sucking and attaching firmly to the sweet, soft skin there, and with his fingers, pulling down your underwear. slick sounds filling the air as it detached from your wet core, a trail of your arousal in between the cloth and your heat.

“hm?” carmy hummed, letting his fingers dance along your slit, ever so gently and delicately, like they were trailing up your entire being.

“god, y-yes, carmy. need it, need you. please,” you whimpered, muffled as you buried your head into the crook of his neck, lurching into him like you were surrendering, a natural lull you didn’t even realize you gave into every time without fail. full disregard, letting him take over, letting yourself let go.

“need my fingers inside you, yeah?” carmy panted, finding it hard to control himself.

all he wanted was to be sheathed fully inside of you, whether that meant twisting you open with his fingers, lapping you up with his tongue, or fucking his cum into you as deeply (and quietly) as he could. he obliged, slipping one finger inside with such gleeful ease, feeling the digit get soaked in your arousal.

you gasped sharply, lurching forward involuntarily. carmy brought you back down with another hand wrapped firm around your waist.

“no no no, stay right there. and answer me, what do you need?”

“need you carmy, need your fingers, please, another,” you nearly cried out, your voice going up an octave just to beg. perhaps carmen’s favorite sound from your lips, and it didn’t even sound like yourself— it sounded like someone who was forced into impenetrable bliss and didn’t have a vessel to express it, just the voice.

“okay, okay, sweetheart,” he was sweet and giving, so generous, so dazed and yet still so in charge. dipping another finger into your slick, wet heat and burying his fingers to the hilt inside of you, causing you to squeak out. “fuck, gotta be quiet, honey.”

“yes, yes, i’m sorry,” you scrambled to apologize, which only made him want you more. hungry, he grunted, jerking his hips up to feel something, anything. your hands flew to his crotch, palming him over his boxers, but he gently pulled your hand away.

“don’t worry about me, baby. don’t worry. gonna have you bouncing on my cock in a minute, just wait. wanna make you feel good first,” he assured you, and in your haze, you nodded agreeably, eyes screwed shut with pleasure.

he moved, slowly, so you could feel his fingers sliding against your walls. you threw your head back, a muffled noise of pleasure escaping from your throat. he kept his eyes on you, unblinking, pumping in slow and controlled one, two times, then he picked up the pace, and with it, you got wetter, slicker, soaking his fingers and his thighs.

your breath caught in your throat, you couldn’t even make any noise. just stilted from the pleasure that you felt, feeling it burn and rev in your stomach— that slow, churning stir back again, working towards completion. all you could hear was your slick as carmy fucked his fingers in and out of you, fast and dangerously deep, hitting every single spot inside of you because his fingers were so thick. carmy’s eyes glanced down for a minute to see his fingers disappearing inside of you like they fucking belonged there, like they were supposed to be inside of you, making you so wet that it was all you could hear. he watched as your arousal painted your mound and spread across your thighs, breathing out heavily in disbelief. he started to fuck his fingers into you faster now, and you whimpered in a pitch he’d never heard from you before. with his other hand, he assisted you in bouncing your hips at the same pace as his fingers. the room was filled with the sounds of squelching as his fingers fucked in and out of you, carrying along your slick with it.

“fuck, you’re so fucking wet. your pussy’s so fucking loud, baby, you must feel so good, huh? feels so good? don’t wanna wake anybody up, do you?” he was delirious, saying whatever came to his mind, his grip on your hip tight and his fingers wrecking you at such a torturous pace.

“mm-mm, mm-mm,” you cried, rocking your hips against his hands and damn near taking his knuckles— his interjections of “such a pretty wet pussy” and “you’re doing so good for me, you sound so fucking good, baby�� brought you to your high, and you rode it out whale bouncing your hips up and down. legs shaking and thighs trembling as you tightened around his fingers, releasing all over him. your voice a muddled mess as you cried out. “fuck, carmy, i’m coming. i’m coming.”

“fuck,” carmen said through gritted teeth, his cock jumping in his boxers. “fuck, you’re so good. you’re so fucking good, yn, that’s it. that’s it sweetheart.”

you whimpered as you came, his fingers still deep inside of you and thrusting while you rode it out/

“i know, i know,” he muttered reassuringly, letting you get yours and then pulling his fingers out softly, resting his head against your rising and falling chest.

his hands returned to a smooth, kind roam as he let you catch your breath, touching every part of you to comfort you. when you had found your basis again, you sighed lovingly and wrapped your hands around carmen’s neck, pressing your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes.

a soft smile tugging at your lips, you whispered,

“i love you, bear. wanted to be around you all day, even after spending two days straight with you. still wanted you.”

“i always want you,” he replied without skipping a beat. he lifted his head up to kiss you. “and i love you too. if we can survive a twelve-hour road trip we can survive anything.”

“shit, if we can survive christmas with my family we can survive anything,” you giggled, kissing

his forehead.

“yeah, i love your family though. mom’s dope. sister’s hilarious. cousins are wildly talented. it fucking runs in the family. i don’t know what runs in my family, maybe… i dunno, bad shit,” he chuckled with a huff, shaking his head.

“hey,” you pouted. “don’t say that, bear. you’re sweet… attentive… loving… a perfectionist until it kills you, but, that’s valuable. isn’t it?”

you punctuated each word with a kiss, trailing down his neck and around his clavicles.

“fuck,” he breathed out. “don’t start something you can’t finish, now.”

“try me,” you grinned devilishly.

#the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x black reader #carmy x black reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmy x reader smut #the bear fx #the bear smut #black reader #x black reader

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