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meazalykov · 5 months ago

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rings rings rings

lena oberdorf x reader

summary: a joke in the community makes you come to a realization

the teasing had always been a lighthearted joke, something you and lena both laughed about.

it started almost immediately after you two went public with your relationship. after you guys started dating in 2020, you guys decided to not tell the public about your relationship until a couple of years in.

after transferring from barcelona to bayern munich in 2022, and shortly after lena’s second place spot in the EUROS– thats when the public had confirmation about the two of you.

it wasn’t just the fans who started their relentlessness. your teammates had their fun, too.

your bayern and national teammates instagram stories were flooded with subtle hints—photos of you holding hands, captions about the "future mrs. oberdorf" and even cheeky comments from giulia and laura with ring emojis when lena and you celebrated your fourth anniversary.

lea, lena’s best friend and your close friend, was the ringleader of the proposal jokes. every time you and lena were out with her, she’d find a way to bring up engagement rings.

"so, lena," lea would say with a mischievous grin, "when’s the big day? or are you still searching for the perfect ring to put on y/n’s pretty finger?"

lena would roll her eyes and laugh it off, but you could tell the idea was planted in her head.

there were jokes during training sessions, comments during team dinners. when lena transferred to bayern from wolfsburg in july 2024– pernille managed to get the entire squad to start humming the wedding march when you two walked into the locker room together.

lena had told you her plan ages ago—she was going to propose during the winter of 2024. it was perfect. the winter break meant no football to distract you, just the two of you alone in the peace of the snowy bavarian countryside.

you loved the idea, and though you tried to keep it out of your head so you could focus on football, you couldn't help but daydream about how it would unfold, how you would say yes without hesitation.

one day during the pre-season, before the olympics, everyone was cooling down after practice, some even joking around, when pernille and magda walked in with matching grins. they were holding hands and had the kind of look that hinted at something big.

they exchanged a quick glance before pernille cleared her throat, immediately drawing the attention of the room.

“we’ve got some news,” pernille started, her voice light with her danish accent clear but laced with excitement.

magda lifted her hand, showing off a simple but stunning engagement ring that sparkled under the fluorescent lights.

“we’re engaged!” magda announced, and the room erupted into cheers and applause.

teammates rushed over to congratulate them, voices overlapping as everyone admired the ring and shared in the couple’s happiness.

amid the celebration, sydney, who had been stretching in the corner while scrolling on her phone, looked over at lena, who was smiling widely at the news.

with a mischievous glint in her eye, sydney couldn’t resist.

“hey, lena,” sydney called out, her tone teasing making sure that the entire locker room heard her.

“so, when are you gonna propose to y/n? or are you just going to let pernille and magda steal the spotlight?”

the locker room fell silent for a split second before erupting into laughter and more teasing.

klara, always quick with a quip, chimed in, “yeah, lena, what’s the holdup? everyone has been waiting!”

lea joined in, a playful grin on her face. “maybe she’s just waiting for the perfect moment. or maybe y/n should propose first?”

lena felt her cheeks flush under the sudden attention, but she played it cool, offering a lopsided smile.

“soon,” she replied, her voice steady despite the amount of teasing. “it’s gonna happen, don’t worry.”

the room buzzed with excited murmurs and jokes, but before anyone could press her further, lena’s gaze drifted to the door.

y/n wasn’t there in the locker room, and she hadn’t been for a while. lena knew she had gone to check on ana in the medical area, making sure their teammate (who came back from an acl injury) was okay after a tough tackle during training.

but the laughter and congratulations for pernille and madga continued to swirl around her, lena’s mind wandered to the ring she had already picked out, the one tucked safely away at home.

she had planned everything, just waiting for the right moment to propose.

but then the injury happened. an acl tear right before the olympics, a devastating blow to lena’s season and your hearts.

you were happy to win gold at the olympics, but you were sad that lena couldn’t celebrate bronze with her german teammates.

the surgery, the long recovery, the endless rehab—it took over everything once you got back to munich.

and with it, lena’s plan to propose was quietly shelved.

your taller german girlfriend even joked, with a bittersweet smile, that she wouldn’t be able to get down on one knee now, and you both shared a quiet laugh over it, trying to mask the disappointment.

it wasn’t long before the teasing at lena shifted.

“well, y/n, if lena’s knee is messed up, i guess it’s your turn to get down on one knee.” tuva, with her sharp and sweet humor, was the first to mention it in the full bayern locker room.

you laughed it off at first, just like lena had, but the teasing continued.

more teammates joined in, some of your national teammates started to become aware of the jokes in germany and joined in.

and suddenly, it was you who was being nudged toward proposing.

at first, you tried to brush it off, but there was something in the way lena looked at you—hopeful, maybe even a little relieved—that stayed with you.

the idea took root, just as it had with her. it's been four years since you and lena started dating– when you were at barcelona and she at wolfsburg. you wanted her to be your wife.

and before you knew it, you found yourself visiting jewelers, searching for the perfect ring.

your pupils would have formed into a heart (if that was possible) when you spotted a delicate band with a single, sparkling diamond—it was simple yet elegant, just like lena.

you didn’t tell anyone about your plan. not tuva, not lea, not even your closest friends on the team.

it was something you wanted to keep between you and lena, a surprise that would catch her completely off guard. you didn’t need lena to overhear the teasing trolls that you had for teammates.

the timing felt right as thanksgiving break approached—a quiet moment, just the two of you, away from the pressures of football.

the day you decided to propose, you could feel the excitement ripping throughout your body, but also a touch of nerves.

lena had always been the one everyone expected to take the lead, since she was more of the “dominant” one in your relationship– but it was your turn first, and you wanted it to be perfect.

you planned a small getaway, just the two of you, in a cozy cabin nestled in the forests near munich.

the air was crisp, the sky a brilliant shade of pink and orange due to the sunset, and everything seemed to sparkle in the winter light.

you both took a small walk through a trail by the cabin. this was the first time that lena got cleared to walk without any cane or assist.

this made you both happy as the two of you were laughing and chatting about everything and nothing.

looking away from lena’s beautiful face, you reached the spot where you had decided to do it—a clearing with a view of the mountains in the distance.

you stopped, turning to face lena, who looked at you with a curious smile.

she notices your face, you tried to look strong but your eyes showed something different.

"what’s up?" she asked, her breath visible in the cold air.

you took a deep breath, smiling as you reached into your jean pocket and pulling out the small box.

lena’s eyes widened as realization dawned on her, and you could see the tears starting to form.

“lena,” you began, your voice trembling slightly,

“i know we always joked about who would propose first, and i know this isn’t how you planned it due to unfortunate circumstances. but i love you so much, ever since that wolfsburg and barcelona match. ever since then i couldn’t imagine my life without you. will you marry me?”

for a moment, lena was speechless. she stared at the ring, then back at you, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

"y/n, are you serious?" she whispered, her voice shaky.

"absolutely. i’ve never been more serious about anything." you nodded, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face.

lena’s reaction was immediate. she threw her strong arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, her tears soaking into your neck and jacket.

"yes," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. "yes, a million times yes!!" she pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes full of love and disbelief.

"i can’t believe you did this. i was supposed to propose to you first." she held your face in her hands as she kept your body close to hers.

"well, you can still propose to me later, but i couldn’t wait any longer." you laughed, wiping away a tear that had slipped down her cheek.

you slid the ring onto her finger, both of you laughing and crying at the same time. lena looked down at the ring, her hand shaking slightly as she admired it.

"it’s perfect, y/n," she said, her voice full of wonder. "you’re perfect."

later at night, as you sat together by the fire in the cabin, wrapped in blankets, lena leaned her body on top of yours as her head rested on your shoulder.

"you know," she murmured, her voice soft and full of warmth, "i was always going to propose first. i had this whole plan."

"i know, but i beat you to it." you smiled, kissing her forehead gently.

the teasing might have started as a joke, but in the end, it led to a moment neither of you would ever forget—a moment that was entirely yours.

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

#lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #lena you're missed #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #meazalykov #bayern frauen

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purposechef · 9 months ago

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My Sydcarmy Fics

Oyster Knife (17k words) - Part I of the Oyster Knife series

Sydney Adamu seeks answers.

A Pear Tree (or Any Other Tree in Bloom) (8k words) - Part II of the Oyster Knife series

Syd and Carmy play house for the weekend.

Paris (10k words) - Part III of the Oyster Knife series

Syd and Carmy attempt a healthy work-life balance.

The Chaos Cookbook (13k words) - Part IV of the Oyster Knife series

Syd and Carmy share their five favorite dishes.

Three Goals. Go. (3k words) - Part V of the Oyster Knife series

Multiple New Year's Eves, multiple midnight conversations with Syd and Carmy.

Let the Ghosts Sleep Tonight (8k words)

A year after Syd's death, Carmy prepares one of her recipes. He takes out bowls and pans and his knife. Takes out the meat and pre-heats the oven. He knows the recipe by heart but keeps her notebook open on the prep table anyway. He’s salting the meat when he sees her, out of the corner of his eye. Leaning against the fryer like she had been watching him the whole time.

Unassuming But Lethal (9k words) - Part VI of the Oyster Knife series

Syd is nominated for an award, or: a comedy of errors.

Warmest Part of the Winter (11k words) - Part VII of the Oyster Knife series

Syd and Carmy celebrate her mom's birthday, and later, Mikey's birthday.

A Moving Thing (13k words) - Part VIII of the Oyster Knife series

Syd and Carmy fall in love over the course of answering 36 questions.

Take Care (30k words)

Ingredients: - 1 culinary school dropout - 1 recently fired CDC - 48 hours in New York City

Steps: 1. Have a panic attack; drop out of culinary school. 2. Accidentally become the head food critic of the New York Times. 3. Write a review that gets the CDC of Eleven Madison Park fired. 4. Let sit until you have an emotionally unwieldy mess.

Having a Coke With You (19k words) - Part IX of the Oyster Knife series

“I guess you’re just not the jealous type,” Carmy concluded as they finished locking up.

“Or I’m just not jealous in the same way you’re jealous,” Syd retorted.

“I’m jealous?”

“Carm.” She gave him a look that implied that she didn’t have time to explain the levels of ridiculousness behind that question.

Avenues All Lined With Trees (27k words)

“You're a lifesaver,” the mother-of-the-bride gushes. “I didn't want to go with just anyone. The groom is a bit of a foodie, so I wanted a caterer who could impress.”

Syd is about to call it quits for good on Sheridan Road. But then she gets a last-minute request to cater a wedding.

#sydcarmy #ao3 fanfic

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preciouslandmermaid · 10 months ago

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nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - bonus post-epilogue chapter

Note: I randomly wanted to write a wedding, but I don't actually include the ceremony, so this is more like a "pre-wedding/post-wedding" story if we're being honest ! Also it takes place about 2 years after the epilogue :)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language/Sexual Content).

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney held the wooden spoon toward you and the scent of the honey and ginger glaze tickled your nostrils. Earlier in the afternoon, she rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater to her elbows and the beaded bracelet (a gift from Richie’s daughter, Eva) slid partway down her wrist.

“Alright, it’s your entree. You get to try it first.”

“I thought that was the chef’s honor?”

“Yeah, well, you’re the bride so…” she trailed off, shrugging. “I think that superimposes chef’s honor.”

You smiled and raised both eyebrows at Syd. She didn’t have to help, especially considering how busy The Bear is nowadays, but she offered and you gratefully accepted. Wedding planning – as it turned out – was a stressful affair. You and Carmy had your location set, but the guest list, wedding registry, and menu were woefully incomplete. You tangled yourselves into knots over the planning, but the goal remained firm in your mind; a celebration with Carmy and your friends mixed with the legality of marriage. You would overcome any hurdles you needed to cross because all of it would be worth it in the end.

Wordlessly, you closed your mouth over the spoon. Your lips puckered and your tongue recoiled to the safety of your back molars.

“Oh, oh shit,” Sydney said emphatically, “you hate it.”

“N-no!” You coughed, swallowing, and grabbing your glass of water. “The acidity is just a little...strong. It needs to be adjusted, that’s all.”

“Fuck,” she said, slapping her palm on the wooden countertop. “Okay – uh – that’s okay. We can – I can totally fix this. No biggie.” When she tasted the glaze, her expression pinched before she stuck out her tongue and gagged. “Yeah, nope.” She released a forced, short laugh. “There’s no saving that one.”

You loved Syd’s earnest, anxious awkwardness. Her blunt nature had been the first foundational stone of your friendship. You liked that she didn’t let Carmy off the hook, regardless of his experience and talent, and their partnership was an integral component to the Bear’s continued success.

“Back to the drawing board,” you said, drumming your fingers on the countertop. “Maybe ginger is too sharp? Do we lean more savory?”

“Interesting idea coming from the baker,” she teased.

“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and infused your tone with as much indignation as you could. “Just because I run a bakery doesn’t mean I have a sweet tooth.”

Syd laughed. “There is literally a bowl of candy by the entryway.”

“It’s for Halloween.” You crossed your arms and said, “There are a ton of families in this building.” In truth, your lack of nicotine intake after quitting smoking had manifested into a ravenous sweet tooth and, the lollipops – although bad for your teeth – were monumentally healthier than cigarettes.

“Dude, Halloween is seven months away.”

“We’re prepared.”

“What for like kids who don’t know how to like tell time and show up a few months early?”

“Obviously.”

She finished scraping the glaze into the trash. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Her bright smile faded and the light entered her dark eyes. You recognized it as her ‘I have an idea face’ and your mood lifted—the overly sour glaze quickly forgotten. When Carmy said he wanted The Bear to cater your wedding, you had been shocked, and concerned about the additional stress it would add to your lives. However, with Syd in your kitchen, the pan gripped in her hand and her expression rapt with wonder, you realized that you had nothing to worry about. The wedding’s menu and food preparation were in the best hands.

“Do you have any soy sauce?” she asked, “Worcestershire sauce will work too, or liquid aminos if we’re desperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched as your fingers held aloft over the keyboard and the spreadsheet glared menacingly in a harsh blue-white glow. The guest list had been easy to start. The obvious ones were Syd, Natalie, Peter, Richie and Eva, and your best friend, Taylor. The harder choices were family and how to arrange the tables. Your eyebrows angled in confusion and you drew your hands away.

“I’m not inviting my dad,” you said after a moment’s pause.

Carmy nodded. “Okay.”

His neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t the flushed heat that arrived when he felt embarrassed. No. This discomfort traveled from his neck to his fingers. It raked across his skin like a thousand needles, pricking every nerve, and drawing blood. He thought about going to his coat pocket and withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The quick, cold rush of nicotine would ease his headache and calm his nerves. But, if he smoked, then he’d need to walk downstairs and into the blustery sharp gray wind of March. And he didn’t want to bail on you. The puzzle of who to invite and who to sit with whom was a project for the both of you to untangle.

“I dunno if I should…” He cleared his throat and looked away when your eyes met his over the laptop screen. “I dunno.”

“Your mom?” you correctly guessed.

Carmy sniffed, scratched the side of his nose, and nodded. His heart thumped into his ribs. Maybe he should take a walk. Maybe the March air would clear this dreadful feeling from his skull. His stomach hardened into a pit at the idea of his mom coming to his wedding. But, at the same time, his dread and fear congealed into a sharp guilt that curdled his stomach acid. His mom was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of a woman. He loved her. He didn’t know if he wanted her at the wedding. He knew she’d be upset if she weren’t invited. But, both of you decided to keep the guest list small. The careful cuts were necessary, and not just due to the frugality aspect, but in terms of everyone’s enjoyment.

“She’d make it about her,” he said, “remember Sophia’s second birthday?”

You placed your hand on the middle of Carmy’s back, right between his tense shoulder blades, and he forced a harsh exhale through his teeth. They almost called the police, Carmy thought with a frown. His mom showed up and seemed fine, and then shortly before cake and presents, she buckled little Sophia into her car and claimed that Natalie hated her and didn’t want Sophia to have a relationship with her grandmother. His niece, at the age when separation anxiety often occurred, cried so much that she threw up on her special birthday dress.

“I do,” you said and your eyes softened.

“I’m a terrible son,” Carmy said, “I’m a fucking asshole. We have to invite her, don’t we? She deserves to be there.”

“Carmy, you’re not.” You rubbed his back. “Do you think I’m an asshole for not inviting my dad?”

He quickly said, “No.” The pit in his stomach gnawed at his smoke-deprived lungs. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“He has another family.” Carmy stood, raking his hand through his hair. “My mom only has Nat and me.”

“So you have to sacrifice your happiness and comfort for hers?”

“Yes!” he said immediately followed by a quick, “No. I don’t know.” He reached into his coat pocket hanging by the door and fished out the squashed packet of cigarettes.

You trailed after him and wound your arms around him, pressing your face into his back, your hands coming to rest over his heart. Carmy froze. The pressure of your hands on his chest made him realize how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed the cigarette packet and it crinkled beneath his clammy fingers.

“Remind me,” you said, voice faintly muffled by his t-shirt, “what was the possible diagnosis your therapist gave her?”

“Borderline personality disorder.” His therapist also said his mom could have narcissistic personality disorder, but BPD was more likely, based on his descriptions of childhood. It helped to have a name for it. It gave him a better understanding of everything he went through.

“Which defines her behavior but doesn’t excuse it,” you said as you circled around him to face him. “Carmy, I love you.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I will support you if you want to invite Donna and I’ll weather any storms she brings with her. Who knows...maybe it’ll be a good day for her.” Your tone toward the end of your sentence became dubious.

Carmy sighed. “I don’t think I want to invite her, but I feel like I should.” He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“No, it does. You feel an obligation as her son to share this big moment with her. I get it.”

“Do you feel guilty about not inviting your dad?”

“A little.” Your lips pursed. “But, if I visualize our wedding, the thought of my dad standing beside me doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel excited about it. I just feel…”

“Dread?” he guessed.

You smiled faintly. “It’s more annoyance and anger for me.”

“Mm, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned his forehead and touched it to yours. How did he get so lucky? He imagined the wedding. He imagined seeing you across from him, sliding the ring on your finger, and stuttering through his vows. The usual nervousness bubbled up inside his chest, but it was smothered by the overwhelming warmth and affection he felt for you that bled across his skin like thick honey.

“I don’t think I can invite her,” he whispered.

“That’s okay, Carm.” You kissed him softly. “That’s okay.” You repeated against his mouth. A sensation of cool and blissful relief extinguished the last lingering remnants of his dread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Something is weird,” you said, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “Why are there two florist vans? Did we accidentally get two?” You didn’t recognize the name on the second van either. Must be a local shop, you thought, although that doesn’t explain why they’re here.

“I don’t think so,” Carmy said.

As everyone poured out of their cars, their garment bags slung over their arms or over their shoulders, a sharply dressed black woman emerged from the entrance and strode purposefully toward you and Carmy.

“You must be the Berzattos,” she said breathlessly as she shook your hands. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Vivienne and I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What sort of bad news?” Richie said, “The kind that gets us a discount?” He grinned at Carmy and your husband-to-be rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps.”

Richie whispered, “Oh shit.”

“We’ve had some technical issues with our new scheduling program.” She wrung her hands together. “The venue has been double-booked.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, noticing all the additional staff buzzing to and fro across the manicured lawn.

Vivienne said, “I’m so sorry for the mistake. If you’d like, we can reschedule you.”

Your stomach dropped into your shoes.

“Absolutely not,” you said, “people flew out to be here. We can’t reimburse flights and accommodations, and nor should we have to considering this is your error.” You sighed, feeling a headache press into your temples. “Why didn’t you notify us?”

“How about a discount and you can split the venue?” she offered, “we only realized the mistake when the two catering companies showed up.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” said Richie.

“Fuck,” Syd said.

Natalie crossed her arms. “I’m sorry did they say double-booked?”

“Mommy!” Sophia pulled at Natalie’s pant leg. “Mommy, look! Sunflowers!” She pointed at the floral van carrying out their arrangements.

You shared a glance with Carmy. “Can we have a minute?”

“Of course. Again, we’re so sorry.”

You and Carmy broke away from the group of your closest friends and family. You rubbed your hands down the length of your face.

“We can’t reschedule,” you said, “but how the hell are we going to share the venue? They have one kitchen and we paid for our guests to stay the night.”

“Maybe the timing works out,” Carmy said, taking your hand in his. “You want to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Then fuck it. We stay.”

“Okay, fuck it.” You smiled. “Let’s negotiate a good discount.”

“Say the word and I’ll send Pete in,” Carmy joked.

You laughed. “God, we might need him.”

The organization was a cluster-fuck. The venue manager, Vivienne, assured and promised that the space was large enough and that the other party – the Carmichael's – were having a noon wedding with a 2 PM reception and everything would be cleaned up for your 4 PM wedding and 5 PM reception. But, you noticed the proverbial cracks in the foundation. The necessary kitchen prep work, the clashing decorations, the intermingling guests, and the underlying stress and confusion permeated every interaction. You practiced intentional breathing and hoped you’d make it through the day without bursting into stress-induced tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zipper was halfway up when it broke. You felt the snag, then the tug and pull, and the abrupt separation. You pressed your hand to your mouth and muffled the noise of discontent and frustration that threatened to break free.

Taylor pushed her long, thick dark braid over her shoulder and pursed her red lips at you. “We can work with this,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “We can fix it.”

You released a strangled, “can we?” You blinked back your burning tears—you didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

“Yeah, most of these places have emergency sewing kits,” your best friend said while digging through the drawers, “also, this might be a bad time, but is the chef single?”

Despite everything, you laughed. “Which chef?”

“The tall blonde one with the accent.”

“Luca?”

Taylor’s eyes brightened. “Yes!”

“I’ll find out for you,” you said while reaching for your phone. You smiled at the sight of your phone background, a black and white photo of you and Carmy, and Taylor snickered.

“I remember when you told me about him,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were all tied into knots about it...and now look at you! Tying the knot.” She winked. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.”

Your chest warmed with pleasure. “Me too.”

“Aha!” She held the little sewing kit aloft. It had the venue's name printed on the front of the bag. “Do you think they write this so nobody steals it?” She asked while tapping the swooping decal.

Before you could answer, your mom bustled into the room, her billowing lilac sleeves trailing after her arms.

“Oh! Look at you!” She grabbed your chin and kissed your cheek. “I’ve got something for you. A little tradition.”

“Mom, I don’t know if I can stomach any more surprises.” Taylor began to fix your zipper and the cold metal teeth periodically kissed your skin.

“You’ll like this surprise.”

Your mom removed a potted plant from her purse. The dark soil clung to her fingertips, the plant likely got knocked around more than once, as she set it down on the vanity. You recognized the wide, verdant leaves.

“A basil plant?”

“Normally, we give a flower of some type, but I chose a basil plant instead.” She smiled, pleased. “Nurture the plant as you nurture your future and it’ll thrive.”

Your throat tightened. “Thanks, Mom.” Your shoulders jerked as Taylor finished zipping and she whooped in triumphant delight.

“There we go, crisis averted,” said Taylor, “now we don’t have to worry about walking down the aisle naked.”

You rubbed your fingertips along the basil leaf and smiled at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“God,” Richie said, fixing his tie, “I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married, cousin.”

“Yeah, me either.” Carmy scratched the side of his nose.

“I always thought Mikey’d get married before you,” he said, “he was just more charmin’, you know? He had a way with people, women especially, God…” Richie shook his head. “He couldn’t walk down the street without getting some chick’s phone number.”

Carmy stared sullenly at his reflection. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t? ‘Cause then he’d have an ex-wife, or a widow, or a kid or somethin, I dunno.”

Carmy wondered if he’d forever be in rooms with Mikey’s shadow stuck to the corners. It didn’t suffocate him as much anymore. Mikey’s memory lurked within every conversation – like slivers of light through the paneled window shades. Today of all days though, Carmy suspected those slivers would blind him. Mikey should’ve been here, could’ve been, and he wasn’t.

“Yeah, good point.” Richie turned the side and smoothed his lapels. “Still, it should be him.”

Carmy’s neck flushed with indignation. Did Richie seriously have to be such an asshole? His brow furrowed. It was his fucking wedding day for fuck’s sake!

“Cousin—” Carmy began.

“Standing here, I mean, as your best man,” said Richie. “Look, there’s no takebacks and this would be a hell of a time to change your mind but it should’ve been Mikey. Not me. I get that, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say…” He fixed his tie again. “And I’m gonna do everything to make sure that this day doesn’t go to shit. I can promise you that, alright?”

Carmy blinked, at a loss for words at Richie’s admission. It had been six years and counting since Mikey’s death and Richie had been with him for every one. If he was being honest with himself and not caught up on nostalgia, if Mikey was here, then Carmy wasn’t sure he would have trusted him with all the responsibility. Hell, Richie organized a pizza-making bachelor party for him. He offered to trash the other couple’s wedding.

“Who else would it be?” he asked softly, “you’re family, Richie.”

Richie sniffed, nodded, and clapped his hand on Carmy’s shoulder, jostling him. When Carmy met his eyes, they were glassy and bright.

“I know.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “Let’s get you fucking married!” He pulled Carmy in a one-armed, half-hug and shook him. “Put a fucking smile on that face, Carm. Come on! Come on!”

He affectionately pinched Carmy’s face in one hand, squishing his mouth, and Carmy shoved Richie away, annoyed, but laughing—in the same way he’d get annoyed and laugh whenever Mikey goofed around with him.

“Fuck off,” said Carmy, without any heat.

“Hey,” Syd poked her head into the doorway, “you ready? The photographer wants to see all of the groomsmen.”

“Shouldn’t you say grooms-people? To be like politically correct or whatever,” Richie asked, “or groomsmen and women considering you’re among us.”

Syd made a face. “Richie shut up and come pose with us.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be inclusive,” he said loudly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone asked you to recount all the details of your wedding—you didn’t think you could. It was the busiest and most stressful day of your life. You’d always remember the finer details like Carmy’s thoughtful, flustered vows, Richie starting a limbo competition, or Syd’s dad dancing with Taylor—at least for a while until she disappeared with Luca in tow. Good for you, you remembered thinking as you watched her form retreat down the hall.

But the rest of the day was an exuberant blur. It had been long and you were grateful to relax into the lush pillowcases with your short silk gown kissing your skin.

Carmy climbed into bed after showering and peppered kisses along your nose and jaw, his hands finding your hips beneath the covers and holding them.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you said with soft laughter before chasing his lips with yours.

“And you’re my wife,” he said, lifting your wrists and placing them over your head, “keep those there.”

You said, “We’ve been married less than twelve hours and you’re already bossing me around?”

Carmy chuckled and his breath puffed over your peaked nipples. His tongue laved over the silk, and moistened it before he drew your nipple between his lips. The soft silk and warmth of Carmy’s tongue was a heady, back-arching mixture.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, plunging your hands into his damp curls and scraping your nails over his scalp.

“Yeah?” His calloused palm felt its way down your thigh, “Are you wet for me already?”

“A little,” you admitted as you parted your legs for him.

“God,” he muttered before mouthing along your breasts and wetting the silk with his tongue and lips. He held one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed, pushing the mound into his mouth again and sucking your hard nipple. The sensation turned to liquid, sticky heat between your legs. You moaned, pushing upward into his grasp and gyrating your hips in askance. His hand was frustratingly close to your cunt, but not close enough. He rubbed up and down your inner thigh from knee to apex, letting his knuckles occasionally brush your pussy, before drawing away without adding any pressure. The fucking nerve of him!

“My wife is so fucking hot,” Carmy said, and hearing the words sent a hot, fresh thrill trembling through you.

“And my husband is a fucking tease,” you said, digging your fingertips into his hard, sculpted shoulders.

Carmy pulled his mouth away from your wet breasts. The silk had darkened where his mouth had been and you could faintly see your nipples through the semi-translucent fabric.

“Am I?” He drew his hands away from you and grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above your head, “I thought I said to keep these here.”

You snorted. “When have I ever listened?”

“You’re a great listener,” he said honestly.

“I want to touch you, Carmy,” you said, matching his honesty with your own, even as his praise sang through your ears and warmed your skin.

He softened. “Okay.” He pulled your wedding ring-adorned hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. The moment he released your hand, you slid your fingers down his chest, smiling at the way his eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks darkened. You wiggled your fingers beneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts and found him hard and pulsing within your grasp.

“Fuck.” He shuddered. “I feel like I could come just by looking at you.”

He jerked his hips into your touch as your fingers encircled him. You craned your neck upward and kissed him, finding the familiar rhythm of tongue and teeth, and moaning wantonly into his mouth when his hand cupped your wet folds. He hissed when his index finger pledged into you and your mind went white-hot and blank.

“Do you think the stress of the day has manifested into being super horny for each other?” You asked, your other hand cupping the back of Carmy’s neck, pinning his face close to yours so you could kiss him. His pretty blue eyes blinked at you.

“Maybe. But, I think I just want to fuck my wife.” His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned.

“It turns you on to call me your wife, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

His admission made your walls clench around his index finger. Maybe you liked it too. Maybe. You felt Carmy smile against your lips. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he muttered, “filling you, listening to you moan.”

You gasped and your eyes rolled back into your skull. It wasn’t often that Carmy engaged in dirty talk, so when he did, it was a rare and special treat that never failed to drench your core. Carmy ran his tongue along your neck, tasting your sweat before a second finger speared between your folds and coaxed that inner fire.

“Keep this on,” he said, dragging his teeth across the strap of your gown, “when I fuck you.”

“Mm – fuck. Okay,” you groaned.

“Actually, I—” his words were suddenly lost to a moan as you adjusted your grip on his cock, your fingers slicked with pre-cum. “Fuck, baby. I need you on top of me.”

“Gladly.”

Carmy rolled onto his back, yanking his shorts down, and you smiled at the sight of him – as desperate as you were with his chest heaving and his wet curls falling onto his forehead. Your walls clenched in anticipation as you hiked the hem of the dress over your hips. Carmy’s hands settled on your thighs and he watched hungrily as you held the base of his cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your spine convulsed and the sensation of him stretching you and filling you wiped out every lingering thought in your mind.

“God,” his voice was strangled, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

You cupped his face, resting your forehead on his as you rode him, and said, “so do you.”

“I love you so much,” Carmy said reverently, “so goddamn much.”

Your heart threatened to break and regrow the from sheer tenderness of his words. Carmy, you learned over the years, expressed his love with acts of service and he said ‘I love you’ most often while having sex. However, something about this ‘I love you’ was different. It was more intense on your post-wedding night. You buried your face into his sweaty neck, your bodies and hearts joined, your futures intrinsically linked.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tilted the watering can over the thriving basil plant and smiled.

“Auntie.” Sophia, freshly eight years old, held something in her hands. “I found a worm.”

You blinked at her. “Put it back?”

“Okay!” She replied cheerily and dropped the worm back into the potted rosemary. She spun when the balcony door slid open. “Hi Uncle Carmy! Do you want to see the worm?” She pointed.

Carmy smiled, first at his niece, and then at you. “Let me see,” he said, crouching. He balanced his wrists on his knees and the sunlight gleamed off his wedding band. Your heart skipped. My husband. You wondered what your grandfather would say if you could tell him that his death led you to your soulmate, a second family, and a range of new friends. Knowing him he’d tell me that he would’ve died sooner if he knew how happy it’d make me. Your grandfather had had a wry sense of humor.

Carmy stood and put his arm around you. “We’re going to need to re-pot the basil if it keeps growing like this,” he said absentmindedly.

You leaned into him and kissed his cheek.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen 'carmy' berzatto x you

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cuteandhughesy · 4 months ago

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Wedding Season | William Nylander

summary: ever since y/n and william started dating, the two of them have been attending friends and teammates weddings - and everytime y/n can't help but think of her own wedding.

2.2 K

warnings: SFW! pre-established relationship | fluff | alcohol | weddings

notes: a short lil willy imagine to tie everyone over as I finish up the last stages of a new rempe fic! stay tuned bc I can do it with a broken heart is on its way !!

link to masterlist

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One: july 7, 2018 The Wests

y/n met William Nylander at her good friend, Stephanie LaChance's, boyfriends summer barbecue. yeah, kind of a mouth full. She went to school with Stephanie and the two had always stayed close, even when y/n moved out to B.C.

when Steph heard her friend was moving back to Ontario, she invited her to her boyfriends Mitch's barbecue that he was hosting for his teammates and their significant others. long story short.

Willy was already there when y/n arrived. She was wearing a pink sundress with white flowers and those brown strappy gladiator sandals that willy loved so much. her hair was long at the time, and cascaded down her back in a loose ponytail. y/n was the most stunning woman he'd ever laid eyes on. They were introduced by Steph, and exchanged numbers, and the rest was history.

A couple months after they made it official, y/n received a wedding invitation in the mail. Her collage roommate, Taylor, was getting married. With a plus one in the air, y/n asked Willy if he would want to go with her, granted, the wedding was almost a year away, but he still said he would.

Fast forward to July 7th 2018 at the wedding of Taylor and Logan West. The ceremony was beautiful. stunning floral arrangements covered every isle, and they smelt so damn good. y/n was covered in a soft blue silk dress, perfectly complimenting Williams off white dress shirt and khaki pants.

y/n cried when Taylor walked down the isle, a loving smile on her face. William looked down at her and laughed out a smile.

"shut up," y/n mumbled in regards to her tears, slapping her boyfriends chest softly.

y/n cried even more when they exchanged vows and this time William didn't snicker or laugh but instead pulled her small frame into his side, kissing her head before returning his attention to the couple.

She admired how perfect Taylor and Logan were for one another, and how amazing their vows were - how epic their love was. y/n felt a deep pang of wedding blues in her gut - she wanted a wedding, and flowers, and crying guests and beautiful music.

At the reception, Taylor and Logan took their position to begin their first dance and 'It Will Rain' started to play and this time y/n didn't cry, but imagined what song she would have playing for her first dance. and then....

"I always thought I would have a Taylor Swift song for my first dance, I'm not sure why but I think she would be perfect," Williams words were a soft whisper against the shell of her ear and that's when she knew who she wanted to have a first dance with.

Two: june 29, 2019 The Martins

Of course Sydney had the most perfect, beautiful wedding ever. Fitting for the most amazing couple y/n has ever had the pleasure of knowing. The party had been going for a few hours now, the drinks were flowing, the food was delicious and the music was perfect.

y/n had lost her shoes about 30 minutes ago, she remembers leaving them at the table in an empty seat bedside Auston and said 'don't let anybody steal these' as if somebody would actually do steal her shoes - it made auston laugh.

She was dancing with Steph, the two of them quite tipsy (as-well as barefoot) to some Drake song. Sydney had just left them to find Matt so Steph smiled. "Isn't this amazing?" the blond asked.

"So amazing...I want to get married." y/n pouted.

"Me too," Steph concluded. "I should go ask Mitch about getting married right now!"

y/n’s eyes lit up, "You should!"

The music slowed down and You're still the One by Shania started playing. y/n felt arms circle her waist, "I wondered were you went," she turned in Williams arms to face him, "all I could find were your shoes." he told her.

y/n smiled, throwing her arms around Willy's shoulders, letting him sway her to the music. "my feet were hurting."

"I'll rub them later," willy told her.

y/n smirked, "it's not my feet I want you to rub..." she tried to wink seductively but it ended up being a tired blink.

he shushed her but smirked anyways, giving the side of her a head a quick kiss. "you're drunk."

"pssshhh...no."

"yeah yeah," williams eyes sparkled and y/n felt herself swoon. the two continued to dance together on the dance floor, even when the slow song stopped and the party songs picked back up they still stayed together.

y/n couldn't wait until she was dancing with william - at their own wedding.

Three: june 30, 2019 The Hymans

william was pretty drunk. so was everybody else though, so he didn't feel bad. he was sitting on a bench near the edge of the dance floor, taking in the moment as he watched zach and alanna twirl each other around - surrounded by all friends and family alike.

he doesn't remember much from that night, like he knows: he was drunk. but he does remember that he wasn't alone at that bench - auston was sitting beside him, probably just as drunk.

"hey man," austons knee bounced of williams, alerting the blonde man's attention. "isn't this great."

"hell yeah," william nods.

auston laughs with him. he doesn't speak for a moment and it goes quiet between the two friends. then he takes a breath, gaining willy's attention. "makes you think. doesn't it?"

"what do you mean?"

"like," auston sighs, "having a wedding. getting married." William doesn't say anything at first so he continues. "don't you want this?" he gestures towards the newly wedded couple.

"I do, yeah." william smiles, mostly to himself.

"I think you've got a good one, willy." auston says to his friend and yeah, willy thinks, I have the best one of them all. then he sees y/n whisking her way through the dancing crowd, dress flowing free around her ankles, shoes abandoned like usual.

"where are your shoes?" willy teases when y/n gets close. she shrugs, grabbing a hold of williams hands and pulling him up and off the bench.

"let's get another drink," she laughs.

"alright," he smiles.

"I have to pee first though, come with me."

he groans, wrapping and arm around her waist and dropping his head into his shoulder. it made auston laugh.

"have fun you two," auston teases.

y/n laughs and william kisses her cheek 5 quick times. he loves her so much.

Four: august 7, 2021 The Browns

the sparkler that was held in y/n’s hand was bright and hot. william had his arm around her waist, his other hand holding an identical sparkler to her own. beside her, lucy gardiner was wiping her eyes, watching connor and madison leave the event - ready to head out on their honey moon.

friends and wedding guests alike cheers for the newlyweds, eyes filled with emotions.

madison and connor looked so...happy. she had never seen two people look more happy and in love.

y/n had that familiar sinking feeling in her gut. that feeling of longing and wanting. weddings always made her feel like that, ever since she had gone to her first wedding when she was twelve and was a flower girl for her aunts third marriage.

expect now, that all so familiar feeling was followed by a feeling of intense love and hope and the excitement of the future. all because of william and the connection he gave her. she loves him so much.

"hey," he whispered into her ear softly, "ready to head out?"

connor and madison were driving off now, ready to be whisked off into marriage life and honeymoons in hawaii.

y/n’s head fell back against his shoulder as william pulled her body infront of his, their sparklers dying down into a burnt stick. "yeah, are you?"

"I am," william kissed her temple.

on their way home, william was driving their vehicle back to the hotel room when he said, "where would you want to go on our honey moon?"

y/n blinked at the question. "oh god...probably greece or maybe even amsterdam."

william smiled, "I like those options."

"I can't wait."

Five: july 29, 2023 The Marners

steph asked y/n to be her maid of honour with a cute gift box, a champagne glass printed to prompt the question. y/n was almost as excited that day then when she found out her best friend was engaged.

fast forward to july 29th, where she stood at the head of the venue, speech ready on her phone, a shaking hand, and hundreds of eyes watching her - ready for her to begin.

"Hello everyone," y/n started, "for those who don't know me, I'm your/n, steph's childhood best friend. I am so glad that we are able to be here today to celebrate the beautiful bride and groom: Steph and Mitch. No matter what challenges they faced they always said they would get married on this date no matter what, because when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. Or maybe it was because Steph preemptively bought decorations with today’s date on it - who knows."

the crowd laughed and y/n could feel her nerves dwindling slowly. she could feel her grip on the microphone was moist, her sweaty hands betraying her. looking out into the crowd, she sees the smiling faces of her friends, family and a special blonde. the love of her life. william gave her an encouraging nod, a smirk on his lips.

she hadn't gotten to see william properly that day. she had been apart of the bridal party, therefore, getting ready and making sure steph was happy was her main priority. hell, she had seen matt martin more than her own boyfriend.

y/n took a deep breath, "Growing up, steph, I always looked up to you, I wanted to wear everything you wore and do everything that you did. you could have told me anything and I would have believed you. one example of this is you saying since you were older you had to get married first. guess you were right. but i'm sure my turn will come," she took a dramatic pause, "will, i'm looking at you."

the crowd laughed, williams teammates surrounding him chirped him, shaking his shoulders in a teasing manner. y/n laughed. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. now that steph and I are older, we have set our childish arguments aside and found common ground on how we can relate to the bachelor, each others intense fomo, and impatience of people who take forever to get ready. even though, steph and I are those people who take....forever to get ready."

william laughed to himself, knowing quite well how his girlfriend and her best friend would get when they were together. it was like watching two sloths walking.

"the first time I heard steph mention mitch was when I was 15 and steph was 16. she had called me and vented to me about how she told a guy she didn't want to hang out with them anvmore but she said she was thinking that she had made a huge mistake. me, knowing nothing about the guy she was talking about, said something along the lines of 'You worry too much and forget about him'. Thankfully, steph, you did not take my advice and a week later I came home, and she was skating at the local rink with the guy I told her to forget about.

Once I got to know mitch, I became less bitter that steph did not listen to my advice. I remember being fully won over when mitch bought me and steph the same pair of pyjamas for christmas in the same year because you knew that we wanted to match - and knowing what I know now about how mitch and gift giving, it means even more. I have never met a more perfect, kind or beautiful couple. so, I would like to make a toast -"

the group raised their drinks, smiles all around. william couldn't help but admire his girlfriend, how her bridesmaid dress looked on her body, and her stunning face and perfect hair. she looked so happy to be celebrating her friends marriage and in that moment his thoughts were solidified.

"to the beautiful bride and groom. on this perfect day. mitch, you are the best person. you are kind, funny, and the perfect match for steph. and steph...you are my best friend," steph wiped her eyes and y/n could feel her own eyes filling with tears, "you are beautiful, caring and you will be the best wife. cheers to the happy couple, I am so honoured to be apart of your special day."

the crowd applauded her, toasting their glasses in celebration. chatter about her speech started and y/n ran to give steph a hug, kissing the side of her head and accepting a hug and thank you from mitch before taking het seat beside the bride.

the next speech started and william watched y/n take a deep breath, eyes scanning the room until they landed on her man.

she smiled wide.

'you did so well,' he mouthed to her.

y/n smirked, 'thank you honey,"

he mouths more - 'you look so sexy,"

she playfully rolled her eyes, a blush covering her face. 'stop,' she mouthed back.

that's it. he was going to marry her.

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago

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don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | part two: august

summary: you head down to savannah, georgia with syd, sugar, liz, and maya for a not-bachelorette weekend.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 5.5k

a/n: it's finally heeeeere!!! i know i've gotten quite side tracked with my luca fic, but chapter two of don't want to walk alone is finally here thank god. anyways, this is a carmy-lite chapter, but i think this is just as important. enjoy, besties. chapter three is thee wedding, so it may take a while for me to get that one out and honestly, i like taking my time with this one. i have some very fun ideas and yes we will be getting honeymoon smut don't worry. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part one | masterlist | part three

Thursday

“Hey, did Syd go out already?” you hear Natalie ask, causing you to pause what you’re doing.

You’re in the middle of laying out the gifts you’ve brought for your friends for the weekend, as a thank you for coming to Savannah to help you find a wedding dress. You’re not looking for anything extravagant – you are eloping at the courthouse after all – but it felt like a good excuse to get your best friends together for the weekend too. While you’ve spent most of your time planning this trip insisting that it’s not a bachelorette party, it’s certainly beginning to feel like one.

“Just because we’re not doing a big wedding thing doesn’t mean we can’t do a pre-wedding girls’ trip,” you’d explained to Liz and Maya over your group FaceTime.

“Hmmm, sounds a bit like a bachelorette party,” Maya had observed with every intent of provoking you.

“It’s not a bachelorette party!” you had vehemently insisted on the call.

“Sounds a little like one to me,” Liz had added, earning an eye roll from you as you murmured something about the two of them always ganging up on you.

So here you are, deciding that, maybe, you should just lean into it.

While Sydney’s gone to the grocery to do the shopping (something she insisted on doing since you’re both making brunch for tomorrow morning) it’s just you and Nat in the house. You could’ve sworn Nat was on the phone earlier – Pete being the every-worrying, doting husband who hasn’t spent a night away from his wife since she got pregnant.

“Hey, you!” you finally greet her, a broad smile spreading across your face as you turn to see your very pregnant almost-sister-in-law. “Uh… yeah she was going to the grocery store for some things. Need me to text her?”

Natalie shakes her head ‘no,’ before stepping into one of the many rooms that fill the airbnb that you have rented for the weekend.

“Watcha got goin’ on over here?” Nat asks curiously, as she takes a few steps towards you.

“Well,” you sigh, placing the neatly folded set of washable silk PJs down on one of the two twin beds that fill the bedroom that Maya and Liz will be sleeping in. “Just because you’re not technically my bridesmaids doesn’t mean that I can’t get you guys gifts, right?”

Sugar snorts, “Huh. That’s funny.”

“Hm?” you hum in response.

“Soooo many things, especially since you won’t just admit this is your version of a bachelorette party but…” she teases you, pausing before she continues with:

“I mostly came in here because I have a gift for you.

“What? You didn’t have to get me a gift,” you start, watching as Nat presents a gift bag stuffed to the brim with tissue paper.

“I know. But just because you refuse to admit that this is a bachelorette party, doesn’t mean I can’t get you a bridal gift,” she answers, taking a seat on one of the beds as she repeats your own reasoning back to you.

“Fair enough,” you chuckle sitting down on the bed as you accept her gift.

Parting the mountain of tissue paper, you pull a neatly folded article of clothing wrapped in more tissue paper. Gently, you slide the fabric out of its sleeve, revealing a silk lace slip nightgown out of the gift bag.

You gasp, examining the soft, delicate material in your hands.

“Nat, this is-, holy shit. It’s stunning,” you marvel, running your fingers over the creme-colored material.

“I saw it and couldn’t help myself,” she smiles proudly, happy to see that you love it.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, this time moving your fingers over the black lace trim at the hemline.

“I wanted to give it to you before everyone got here,” she explains softly. “Wear it this weekend. Or for the honeymoon. I don’t know. I saw it and… it just felt like you.”

“Thank you,” you smile, your heart warming as you lean over to give her a hug. She squeezes you back, ecstatic that you love her gift.

“Think Carmy’ll be jealous I didn’t get him anything?” she asks, jokingly, her eyes narrowing.

“Oh, this is a gift for him too,” you’re quick to reply with a smirk.

“Ew!” she glares at you, earning a laugh from you as you defend yourself.

You shrug, “You set yourself up with that one, mama.”

You exchange a look, and a laugh, as Sugar playfully rolls her eyes at the thought of her brother doing anything more explicit than what could be in a PG-rated film.

“How ya doin? How’s my soon-to-be-nephew?” you ask, shifting your body so that you’re facing here even more so now as you change the subject.

“I’m alright,” she sighs, leaning back on her hands behind her. “Second trimester’s been a whole lot better than the first but… this whole pregnancy thing? Wow.”

“Yeah, we are in no hurry,” you empathize, adding a little humor to your sentiment.

“Well, from what I hear, it hasn’t stopped either of you from-,” she begins to tease you and now it’s your turn to say:

“Oh my god, Natalie! Ew!”

You roll your eyes this time, no stranger to the fact that you and Carmy’s sex life has started a rumor or two that’s gotten passed around the restaurant staff like wildfire.

She nudges you playfully, earning another laugh from you before the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, sitting side by side.

Natalie takes a beat, carefully choosing what she wants to say to you, especially since heart to hearts weren’t exactly common for her growing up.

“I also came in here to say…” she begins, her voice softening because she really means it. “I am so glad that he met you – Carmy – that you found each other. And I meant it when I said that I couldn’t wait for us to be sisters.”

The memory of the night you both got violently high together before Sugar got pregnant – the night she first called you her sister-in-law – brings the biggest smile to your face as you laugh.

“You’ve changed his life,” she finishes, the deepest of gratitude coloring the words she says.

You think someone should’ve warned you that getting married would bring up so many goddamn feelings, because you’ve been feeling pretty damn nostalgic and emotional lately too.

With watery eyes, you grab Sugar’s hand, giving it a squeeze as you say, “Nat, he changed mine. He keeps… changing mine.” You pause for a moment wondering when, all of a sudden, you’ve gotten this sappy. “I love Carmen… so much. And… I’m so glad that in loving him… it brought us together too.”

She nods in agreement, as she whispers a tearful ‘yeah,’ giving your hand a squeeze in return before releasing it.

“Jesus Christ. When did we become these people?” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“I have no fucking clue but I’m blaming the pregnancy hormones,” Nat laughs with you.

She pauses once more, and it’s as if she can’t help herself, diving into it again because there’s so much more she wants to say.

“You know, I always wanted a sister…” Natalie starts with a disappointed nod of her head. “I always thought… like, maybe things would’ve been different or something. Mikey and Carmy could do no wrong, you know, but me?”

She lets out another sigh, shifting her sitting position in pursuit of something more comfortable.

“I don’t know… I always wondered what it would be like – to have an ally in it all, a partner in crime – because Mom was Mom… and-. Well, you know. But now with the baby coming, I just can’t picture putting a child through that.”

She takes a beat this time, making sure she’s clear on what she’s trying to communicate to you.

“I think what I’m trying to say is, selfishly, I’m so damn glad Carmy swallowed his pride and called you all those years ago.”

You’re grinning from ear to ear as you listen, agreeing with, “Me fucking too, buddy.”

The sound of the front door is an almost-welcomed interruption as you and Nat exchange a look, the both of you coming to the conclusion that it’s probably Sydney, back from the store.

“Helloooooooo!” you both hear Sydney call out in the empty downstairs area of the airbnb.

“We should probably go. See if Sydney needs our help?” Natalie suggests.

“Yeah,” you reply, standing up from where you’re seated on the bed.

“Nat,” you say, offering a hand to help her up.

She takes it, murmuring a thank you before groaning about her feet. You giggle, but this time, you have one last thing you want to say to her.

“Thank you for the gift… and for what you just told me,” you say, before finishing your thought with, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replies, a soft smile on her face.

You share a look, and one more moment, before heading downstairs.

“Look who I found!” Sydney squeals, her voice resonating broadly throughout the house.

It’s then that you hear the sounds of luggage being rolled, as Maya goes on about how cute this place is, while Liz, following closely behind exclaims something about how goddamn hot it is outside.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, leaping over the last few stairs as you crowd both of your New York friends.

It’s an exchange of squeals, how are you’s, how were your trips, and enthusiastic hugs exchanged between old friends.

“Liz, Maya, you remember Natalie, right?” you introduce, as Nat gives both of your friends a small wave.

While Liz and Maya have met Sydney multiple times (including a few trips to New York Sydney’s taken by herself), you know your two best friends have only met Sugar once or twice when visiting you in Chicago.

“Yes, Carmy’s sister!” Liz says, her eyes lighting up with recognition.

“Yes,” Nat nods, confirming the statement.

“Well, come on in! I’ll show you up to your room so you can put your stuff down and whatnot,” you encourage, ushering the both of them upstairs as Natalie asks if Syd needs help unloading the car.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” Maya exclaims, excitedly.

“In Savannah… That you two idiots somehow figured it out and are getting married,” Liz continues, adding clarity around the very layered statement.

You laugh, “Listen, you and I both, sister.”

You show both Liz and Maya to their shared room as the three of you catch up about the flight here, shared exclamations about how stoked you are for the weekend, about how much you were all in need of a good vacation anyways. As you watch your best friends set their things down and begin to settle in, it feels surreal.

Like you and Carmy’s last trip to New York, it feels as if your worlds are once again colliding – two sets of friends from two very different chapters of your life as you approach a new one.

Friday

Your not-bachelorette brunch menu goes as follows:

Syd’s famous potato chip omelet, a vanilla bean yogurt with Liz’s favorite homemade granola recipe, made last night before bed, bacon you’re frying up in a cast iron pan that belongs to the stocked rental kitchen, and one of Liz’s favorite mocktails because, yes,

“You’re making us go for a hike?!” Maya exclaims. “In this heat? In this humidity?!”

“I thought you were… on your whole SoulCycle kick,” you’re quick to reply.

“Yeah, because it’s indoors,” she emphasizes with a sigh of defeat.

“Thank god you didn’t get your hair done for this, babe,” Liz teases her friend, earning a ‘seconded’ from Maya.

“Oh my god! I forgot that we both love SouCycle!” Sugar chimes in, simultaneously.

“Add it to the list,” Maya replies, because she and Nat have gotten quite chummy over the last 12 hours.

After ordering pizza last night, Maya and Nat had promptly curled up in a corner of the couch with a glass of wine for Maya, and an non-alcoholic cocktail for Nat, and spent almost two uninterrupted hours of realizing that they had way too much in common to not become instant-besties.

“So let me get this straight. It’s your bachelorette party and-,” Maya begins, straightening up on the barstool that lines the other side of the breakfast bar.

“It’s not a bachelorette party, it’s just a girls’ weekend,” you and Syd say in unison, you more insistent while Syd simply recites the words as that you’ve droned on about again and again.

“And we’re not going out?” Maya asks, unamused by your lack of enthusiasm.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you shrug, careless for the idea of going out this weekend.

“What about the strippers?!” Maya exclaims, a little louder this time, sending all of you into a fit of giggles.

“What strippers?!” Syd exclaims.

“Listen, I’m not against strippers…” you laugh with a shake of your head. “...but I just wanted this weekend to be about getting my favorite people together and looking for a dress. YOU are the one who called it a bachelorette party.”

“You’ll have to excuse Maya. It’s been a while since she’s had a weekend away from full-time mom duty,” Liz teases her, as the two of you share a knowing look.

“Not to mention full-time work! And full-time wife-ing,” Maya adds insistently. “I’m ready to shake my ass!”

You and Sugar both snort with laughter and Syd snickers again, plating her final omelet.

“And while she’s somehow the first one of us to settle down, she’s also always been the biggest party animal of the both of us,” you continue, picking up where Liz left off.

“See, this is what you have to look forward to,” Syd jokes, directing her comment to Nat. “The both of you.”

“Oh shut up,” she quips back, playfully.

You shrug, before offering to help Syd distribute her stunningly plated omelets to the kitchen table that Liz has already set.

“Tell us what you made today,” you joke, doing your best Padma Lakshmi impression, as if Sydney were a contestant on Top Chef.

Sydney laughs, while the rest of the girls take their seats, standing at the head of the table as she takes your invitation to roleplay a little too seriously:

“So this… is a potato chip omelet with boursin cheese inspired by our very own Natalie Berzatto.”

“You’re amazing,” Natalie coos, because she truly cannot get enough of this omelet.

“This looks incredible,” Maya compliments, admiring the neatly shaped French omelet.

“And the potato chips are fucking genius,” Liz marvels, simultaneously.

“Something I started making at the restaurant just for Nat since, you know, it kinda hits all the cravings. It’s salty. It’s filling. You know you got a little texture going on with the chips. Aaaaand I’m starving so let’s end this Top Chef cosplay right now and eat,” Syd says, earning a laugh and statements of agreement from the rest of you as she rushes to the last empty chair.

You spend the morning enjoying breakfast before ushering everyone out to the car for your hike. Insistent on heading out there before it gets too hot, you decide it’s probably best to go before noon. As you head out to the Skidaway Island State Park trail, the fact that you friends are finally all together in one room begins to hit you. While Nat and Maya have hit it off over their love for SoulCycle, how strange pregnancy cravings are, and their mutual adoration for Maggie Rogers, you smile to yourself while you listen to Sydney and Liz dissect the most recent season of Love Island.

And despite the few yet passionate protestations, the hiking trail really isn’t all that bad. The five of you spend about an hour out there, hanging out a little longer along the boardwalk, before heading back into town for lunch, and then home for showers and some downtime. Tonight’s game plan is to get all dressed up (sort of) then head to Mashama Bailey’s restaurant, The Grey.

You take some time (and a nap) to yourself this afternoon, knowing that everyone else has taken some time to read, catch up a little, or just hang out. As you awaken from your nap, you flip through your phone for a bit, and, you think to yourself, it feels really damn good to slow down.

You decide to call Carmy, Facetime-ing him as you remain snuggled up in the airbnb bed. It takes a few rings before Carmy answers, his hair wild, dressed in his chef whites.

“Hey, babe,” Carmy smiles, as soon as your face appears on his phone screen. “It’s good to hear from you.”

“You too. I’m glad you picked up,” you reply, a lightness in your voice that only comes with vacation-you.

“How’s my girl doing?” he asks you, adoration in his eyes.

You hum happily in response, stretching a little in your bed.

“She’s great. But she misses you,” you answer, soaking in how much you love when he calls you his girl. “The trip’s been great so far, baby. We went for a hike this morning and uh, well, everyone’s really hit it off. Pretty sure Nat and Maya have become best friends now.”

“Uh oh.”

“Oh come on,” you chuckle, snuggling deeper into the duvet. “You know Maya’s always been your biggest fan.”

“Yeah,” he nods softly, because he does know that, for whatever reason, she’s always been his biggest advocate.

“But how are you? How’s Aioli? What am I missing?” you ask your future husband.

“We’re good. And Aioli is still the most spoiled cat in the Greater Chicago area. Not much to report here. Just taking a smoke break before dinner service,” he answers with a shrug.

“What’re you up to?”

“Just waking up from a nap,” you reply with a yawn, your disheveled bedhead more of a turnon then Carmy will admit. “And we’re going to The Grey later.”

“Mashama’s place?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna get all dressed up?” he asks, his interest piquing.

“Yeah, I think we are,” you reply, the conversation taking a slightly flirtier turn as you add, “Don’t worry. I’ll send pictures.”

With a shy look on his face, Carmy returns with a:

“Oh shit. Well, let me know how it is. The restaurant.”

“I’ll report back,” you assure him. “You know… maybe we can come back here together. Another time.”

Carmy hums in response, barely able to wrap his head around the idea of a vacation. It’s not like you’d never been on one together, but no matter how many steps he takes back, how much he’s learned he’s allowed to (sometimes) slowdown, the unshakeable fear of falling behind hangs over his head. He’s learning, getting better at it, and you’ve helped, but it somehow always still feels a little unsettling at first.

You can see that Carmy’s mind is running a mile a minute, so you decide to cut to the chase as you say:

“I just… wanted to call and see what was up. Tell you I was thinking about you, babe.”

He smiles softly.

“Yeah,” he exhales. “I’m thinking about you too.”

He waits a beat before following up with:

“I’m always thinking about you.”

“I love you, Bear,” you whisper, a smile on your lips.

“I love you too,” he says back, and you swear Apple has installed a filter on FaceTime with how vibrant and blue his eyes are as he looks at you.

The knock at your bedroom door grabs your attention, your eyes shifting immediately to where the door hangs slightly open.

“Hey, I heard you were up,” Sydney says, poking her head in. “Can I come in?”

“Oh my god! Yeah, of course. I’m just on the phone with Carmy. Wanna come say hi?” you encourage, waving her your way.

“Sure!” she grins, quick to hop onto the bed, settling down right next to where you lay.

“Great. It’s like you never left Chicago,” Carmy groans dryly, as Sydney snuggles in.

“Whatever. You miss us,” Sydney shoots back with a playful eye roll.

Carmy’s become no stranger to getting kicked out of his own bed when Sydney comes over – you and her taking it over to watch a movie or giggle while watching TikTok videos for hours on end. Most days he’s so glad that you found a friend in each other, while other days, he’d very much like his bed back.

“Well, babe. I won’t keep you. I’ll see you Sunday?” Carmy asks, more than happy to let you spend time with your friends.

“See ya Sunday, honey,” you reply before ending the call.

You toss your phone on your bed with a sigh as Sydney fake vomits at your sickeningly sweet goodbye.

“Did you nap?” she asks you.

“Dude I passed the fuck out,” you reply, enthusiastically.

“I don’t know how you do it. Like, I think I’ve seen you sleep in…” she starts, trying to pull together a rough guesstimate in her head of how many times she’s seen you nap in a public place. “... more places than I can count.”

“OH! I have not forgotten about your little… photo album,” you remind her, in reference to the photo collection of you sleeping that she has of you. “I’m begging you to release this photo album AT our wedding brunch.”

And you’re only half-joking about it.

“Did you get a nap in?”

“Nah.”

You take another breath as you and Sydney lay next to each other, settling into a comfortable quiet as you reflect on the moment you had with Sugar yesterday, suddenly consumed with an immense amount of gratitude for her and Sydney’s presence in your life.

“Shit…” you exhale.

“What’s up?” Sydney asks you, turning her head to look over at you this time.

“Somebody should’ve warned me that getting married would like… bring up all these extra feelings about… literally everything,” you admit, your eyes fixed to the patterns on the popcorn ceiling above you.

“Oh god,” she groans. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“God no!” you snort, reassuring her that you just finished your period.

You and Sydney exchange another laugh, and a look of mutual affection, before returning your gazes back to the ceiling.

“You wanna… talk about it?” Sydney asks, carefully.

It’s not that you and Sydney don’t do the heavy stuff together, but she’s become one of your best friend because she makes you laugh harder than anyone ever has, so it always feels different – foreign in a way – when you have these moments together.

Your friendship with Syd is lighter. It’s laugh until your abs hurt kind of lighter.

But you know she’s here for all the rest of it too.

“Uh… sure,” you answer, as you share what’s on your mind. “I’ve just been so nostalgic lately. Just thinking about… you know… me and Carmy’s relationship. The life I’ve built with him. You guys….”

“Ew,” she jokes, her face twisting into an expression of repulsion.

“I know,” you groan, unable to stifle the life that escapes your lips.

“Not to get all, you know, emotional or anything,” Sydney starts, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal.

“But like… I wanted to work with Carmy, you know? Which is why I came to The Beef. And… It was a lot.” She pauses, thinking about what she wants to say next as you nod along because you know it was a lot. “I wanted to learn from him and… I wanted to be somewhere that I could make an impact – where I could make something good.”

And in the spirit of being sappy and nostalgic Syd continues.

“And… I never thought, like, in a million years… that on top of building a restaurant… I’d meet you. You’re like… one of my best friends.”

“Woahhhh,” you tease her, pretending to be surprised.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”

You both take a beat, knowing that you’re both using humor to deflect from the moment of vulnerability that you’re sharing.

“Syd?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re one of my best friends too.”

Saturday

“This isn’t me. I mean… none of this… is me,” you say to yourself, examining your reflection in the mirror. “I mean. We’re getting married at the courthouse, you know?!”

Maya had booked you an appointment at one of those high end bridal boutiques where they make a custom sign for you and serve champagne, and while it was more than a lovely gesture, even the least-fancy dresses here still don’t feel right.

“I figured as much but thought we’d give it a shot,” Maya sighs, disappointedly, as Syd and Nat exchange glances.

“If it helps, your tits look great,” Liz suggests, earning a laugh from you because, she’s not wrong and it may be the highlight of this dress stop.

A mischievous smile spreads across your lips as you say:

“C’mon. I have an idea!”

It’s those five words that lead you to the most ridiculous bridal consignment shop with the floofiest gowns you’ve seen all day. Deciding that you should have a little more fun with today, you use the fact that you’re the bride and it’s your weekend to convince your friends that they have to try the most extravagant and silly dresses on with you.

“Oh my god! Well we’re going to make beautiful brides,” Maya gasps facetiously, as she steps out of the fitting room in what can only be looked at as a ball gown.

“I’m pretty sure this thing has a built-in petticoat,” Liz adds, spinning around in the dress she’s tried on, something that looks like it should be what one milks cows in.

“I’m SO sending this to Patrick,” you laugh, snapping photo after photo on your phone while Nat cackles along with you. “I think you guys are going to have to get married again just so you can wear this dress.”

Before you know it, Sydney is pushing you into a dressing room with another dress to try on, promising you that she’ll try something on this time too. It takes way too long to put on the ball of taffeta, and Sugar has to come in to help figure out what goes where, before you emerge once again, like a cotton ball of a bride.

“Well, I think this is the one,” you joke, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

“And we can’t forget thiiiiiis,” Maya says in a sing-song voice, adding a hand beaded veil to your head this time.

“Wait, this is actually really pretty,” Nat says, in reference to the veil.

You agree with her, as Maya slips away to grab a few more dresses from out front, before turning your attention to the still-closed dressing room that Syd is hiding in.

“Sydney Adamu. Get your ass out here!” you holler, just as she makes her dramatic entrance, pulling back the curtain to the fitting room.

“Oh my god!” you gasp, the minute you see her in the beaded, fitted white dress. Aside from the mermaid tail-like hem, the fitted bodice fits her like a glove. “Ummm… this is hot!”

“Excuse me?!” Nat squeals as Liz simultaneously adds, “Okay, miss thing! Give us a walk! Give us a spin.”

“You guys are out of control,” Sydney says, gesturing towards the three of you, even though she knows you’re right.

She looks phenomenal.

“Okay, okay. Go try these on. I think I finally found some good ones,” Maya encourages. And before you can even protest, she’s handing you a few hangers worth of white dresses and shoving you into a dressing room while Syd continues to strut around the fitting room area.

You smile to yourself, listening to your friends giggle and squeal over the silly dresses, while you hang up the few that Maya’s picked out for you. One in particular catches your eye: a slip-like silhouette with a high halter-like neckline that cuts low in the back. You run your fingers over the smooth material and decide to try this one on first.

The dress fits a little big, and the hemline is a little long, but it’s nothing you can’t take to a tailor. You pinch the fabric, picturing what it would look like fitting a little closer to your body as you shout:

“Guys!!”

“What? Did we do the impossible? You find something you actually like?” Sydney teases you, as you pull the curtain back.

“Um… well it needs to be taken in some. And hemmed. But… yeah,” you reply, the reactions immediate on your friend’s faces as soon as they see you.

Maya gasps, while Liz’s jaw drops. Tears well in Nat’s eyes while Syd rubs a few soothing circles on Nat’s upper back.

“Holy shit,” Liz says.

“We did the impossible,” Maya adds, awestruck. “We actually found something that you, the anti-bride, actually like.”

“Oh sweetheart, you look so, so beautiful,” Nat whispers, so overwhelmed with emotion as she thinks of you and Carmy. And because this is so not any of you, Sugar can’t help herself, instantly deflecting with a dry, “God, I can’t believe you haven’t left his ass,” as the five of you burst into another fit of giggles.

As the laughter subsides, and the reality that you’re going to marry the love of your life sets in, you stare back at yourself in the mirror once more, the words falling out of your mouth.

“Yeah. I… think this is it.”

--------------------------------------------

Crowded around the dinner table, the five of you work through what seems like a never-ending amount of Chinese takeout, as you wonder to yourself who let Liz over-order when you’re all leaving tomorrow morning. You sit next to Sydney, one of her knees tucked into her chest as she listens to all the drama from Liz’s last kitchen job.

“Shit,” Sydney commiserates. “When do you just say ‘fuck it’ and start your own spot?”

“Uh… when I marry rich and don’t have to worry about the business of it all?” Liz replies, earning an ‘amen’ from Nat and a laugh from you.

“I always knew,” Maya says, a sure smile on her face as she changes the subject.

“What?” you ask her, quizzically.

“I always knew that you and Carmy would end up together,” she replies with a certain amount of aplomb that baffles you.

It’s a simultaneous “How could you know?” from Liz and “How could you know that?” from Sydney, and an “I didn’t even know!” from you, as Nat exclaims a skeptical, “My brother?!”

“I knew! Because…” she declares insistently.

“I saw the way that Carmen looked at you. How he always looked at you. Even when you thought you were just friends. Even when you guys banged and thought you fucked it all up. And especially when he finally got over himself and invited you to Chicago.”

It’s a strange feeling, that one of your best friends in the whole wide world could see something that you, for a long time, could barely understand yourself, and it reminds you of the magnitude of you and Carmy’s love story.

“That was really beautiful,” Sydney admits, so casually that you have to laugh.

“You always were his biggest champion,” you say, earning a confident nod from Maya.

“Hey, remember when he was so nervous to even talk to you that he spilled your drink all over you?” Liz brings up, almost jokingly as you all burst out into laughter.

“You were soooooo mad.”

“So mad!” you agree passionately.

“Poor guy didn’t know what he was doing,” Liz chuckles.

“What an asshole,” Nat adds, as she and Sydney exchange a knowing look.

“Well. I will cheers to that,” you announce, even though you know, for all the shit you give him, he is and always will be the love of your life.

“To our last night here in Savannah. And you, our best friend, in all of her anti-bride glory who got us all here this weekend. And to Carmy, for loving our girl. Our king and queen of (not-so-much-anymore) denial,” Maya toasts, holding up her glass.

You cheers with your friends, exchanging laughs and quips as your glasses clink. You look around the table, and it’s not just the wine you’re drinking that brings a warmth to your cheeks. There’s Liz and Maya, the friends that loved you through your life before Carmy, through hating him, and eventually, through falling in love with him. And then there’s Nat and Syd, the two women who, had you and Carmy not taken a chance on each other, you never would’ve met. Never would’ve gotten to know. Never would’ve gotten to love.

You’re starting to understand this whole bachelorette party thing. You may not have bridesmaids, or all of the bells and whistles that come with having a big ceremony, but the love that you have in your life is bigger than just romantic love.

It’s in this room right now, a living, breathing thing that fills the air and warms you from the inside out.

It’s palpable, it’s real, and most importantly, it’s yours.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #dont want to walk alone

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