#Syd: no but he’s all your side of the family

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Christmas with Carmy | Headcanons

Carmy Berzatto x reader

Masterlist

Just a few thoughts on spending Christmas with Carmy. He deserves a soft Christmas. Happy holidays everyone! 🎄☃️ Stay safe :)

What a Christmas with Carmy would look like:

You would try your hardest to get you and Carmy out of going to his family’s Christmas dinner. Without Mikey there, and after the infamous seven fishes fight you’d heard about, you knew the dinner would be hard on Carmy. 

If you had to go, you wouldn’t leave Carmy’s side for a second. You’d hold his fidgeting fingers or rest a hand on his bouncing leg, run your palm along his back. And you’d leave once the dinner was over, instead returning to your quiet and safe home.

Carmy might resist, but you would insist on hosting a holiday dinner for your close friends — inviting everyone from Syd to Richie to Ebraheim. It’d be a potluck dinner so you and Carmy (mostly Carmy) didn’t have to stress over providing all the food for everyone. The table would be cramped, but the food and company would be good. It’d be filled with laughter and reminiscing rather than fighting. You’d both create a new holiday tradition. It’d be yours, and it’d be safe. Happy.

You’d bake him and the staff holiday desserts. You’d ask him and Marcus for tips on adding more of this or that. Carmy would stand in the kitchen — you insisted he was necessary to the process for morale and quality assurance testing. But even if you didn’t insist, he’d spend hours leaning against the wall watching you float around the kitchen covered in flour. When it’d be too long without a break, he’d rest his hands on your hips and pull you in close. He’d press his lips to yours, kissing you until you’d stop him — usually to quickly check on the dessert.

Carmy would show you the best goddamn hot chocolate recipe you’ve ever tasted. But soon after, he feared he made a monster because you constantly asked him to make it for you — “it tastes better when you make it,” you’d plead. And who was he to deny you?

On cold nights, you’d happily use Carmy’s constant body heat to warm up. He seemed a little less happy about it, a sharp intake of breath at your cold hands pressed against his skin. But he wouldn’t complain too long because he’d be perfectly content having you against him all the time.

You'd make him get matching sweaters with you. He'd shake his head at it, but secretly, you knew he liked showing the world that you two were together.

You would go holiday shopping with Syd during her few free moments, trying to pick out just the right gifts for your loved ones. Part of your gift to Carmy would be something to help him relax — a spa or massage or day off — anything to help him unclench and realize that he didn’t have to be in fight or flight mode all the time. 

And the other part would test your crafting skills. You didn’t particularly care that your gift was cheesy, since you weren’t sure he’d ever gotten a homemade present before — something that showed you put in the work to show that you loved him. So you made him a scrapbook of the past year, one that was imperfect but meaningful. And the many nights you spent making it while he was working late became worth it when he opened it Christmas morning. It sat beneath a tiny tree you set up in your shared apartment, illuminated by the string lights you’d both hung up. As Carmy flipped through the scrapbook pages, his eyes roving over every inch of the photos and words you put on them, he smiled. He’d let out an occasional laugh, remembering different things that’d happened in the past year. 

“How’d you even get a picture of the knife in Richie’s ass?”

By the end, he let out a sort of a disbelieving sigh. As if he couldn’t understand that you would put the time and effort into something like this — all for him. But you’d hold him, press your lips to his. You’d try to tell him with each kiss that he was worth it, and he always would be.

[only-one-brain-cell]

Help why do they look like they’re in a meeting with a principal because their son did something stupid.

[donatellawritings]

Rich to me is always the friends to lovers (everybody sees it but you two) it’s him yelling “behind” at everyone but sliding behind you with a hand on your hip “behind sweetheart” it’s you walking into the group of boys smoking outside & u bypass everyone to grab a smoke straight from his lips “thanks babe” it’s family having no empty chairs at the table so you sit on his lap while Syd & carm just stare. I think you’d bring my wish to life beautifully written. I need all the build up to the smut

can i just say that richie is definitely the type to be a jagoff to everyone, but never to you - everyone else knew how to work his last nerve, but you and your cutesy smile and bright eyes would make him all warm and fuzzy for sure

explicit sexual content ahead

it was no secret to anyone who worked at the restaurant (or had eyes) that you and richie had a ‘special’ kind of relationship. for starters, it wasn’t common for a hotheaded man, like richie jerimovich, to be so touchy and lovey-dovey with anyone. i mean, not even his ex-wife got to see that side of him often, and they shared a child. however there was something about you that just made richie feel as though he needed to be around you, protect you, handle you tenderly.

maybe it was because you were younger than him - fuck if he knew, all richie knew in his heart of hearts was that he had it bad for you.

things between you two started off gradually, “gotta get past you, sweetheart,” the older man rasped, the warm and calloused palm of his hand gently cradling the small of your lower back as he made his way past you, his tall frame easily reaching over you to grab ahold of a pot from the top cabinet.

you’d simply nod wordlessly, keeping your eyes trained forward in an effort to conceal the blush that rose to your cheeks.

after weeks of comfortability that increased between the two of you, you decided you’d test the waters. you’d watched carefully as he made his way out of the back door that led behind the building of the beef. quickly scanning over the not-so-busy environment of the restaurant, you walked away from the cash register, towards the back exit of the beef.

“i’ll be back in ten!” you called out, earning a mumble of approval from carmy and sydney who were entirely too engrossed in a conversation about expanding the menu.

the moment you’d exited the restaurant, the unforgiving cold winter chicago air bit at you, causing you to hiss as you quickly folded your arms tightly over your chest, your fitted ‘the beef’ t-shirt lifting a bit as you turned to find richie leaned against the brick wall.

he was so rugged and laid back, it drove you insane. his hoodie remained open, revealing the matching t-shirt that clung to his slim abdomen, one of his hands shoved in the pocket of his adidas track pants, while the other held a cigarette to his lips. richie didn’t notice your presence yet, too involved in a conversation with sweeps and marcus.

you’d decided it would be the perfect time to push the envelope, walking directly past marcus and sweeps as you approached richie, a flutter now swirling in your stomach as he raised his eyebrows at you, cigarette loosely held between his sharp teeth.

you two held eye contact for a beat, before you gently grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, before raising it to sit sit between the swell of your lips, taking a quick pull from the cigarette, “thanks babe,” you exhaled with a sweet close-mouthed smile.

all richie could do was swallow thickly, nodding to himself before he returned his attention back to the conversation at hand, softly swatting the side of your thigh when he decided that it was time for you to return the cigarette.

it was then, that things started to reach a whole new level of touchiness and couple-like actions between you and richie.

today was family. your second-most favorite day of the week, aside from payday. you were a bit late to the function, courtesy of your hair appointment, walking into the main room of the restaurant, instantly being greeted with a chorus of differing ‘hello’s’.

“hi, m’sorry for being late, my hair girl was late!” you rushed to explain, shrugging off richie’s your zip-up hoodie as you glanced around the room, seeing that all seats were occupied, “oh.”

sydney’s eyes widened as she shared the same realization, “fuck, uh, maybe we can get you an extra seat from the office, i-” she began, taking a bit too long, leaving richie no choice, but to come up with a solution of his own.

“s’nothing syd, she can sit with me,” richie spoke with a careless shrug, his mouth full of pasta as he looked up at you, swallowing his food before continuing, “c’mon, sweetheart.”

you obliged, your lips suddenly running dry as you walked towards richie’s seat, softly grabbing his outstretched hand as he gently guided your hips to sit comfortably against his.

you slightly shifted your hips, sending a shock to your clit as his bulge deliciously sat flush against your ass, “thanks, richie,” you muttered, focusing your gaze on the pasta dish that sat before you.

richie leaned back into his seat, the suddenly awkward silence of the dining room now becoming a bit too apparent to him. shaking his head, richie kept one of his arms loosely hung around you, before clearing his throat.

“yo, i don’t know why the fuck everyone is being fuckin’ quiet,” he huffed, his eyes now landing on carmy and sydney, before he sighed, “cousin, just say what the fuck you’re grateful for already!”

it wasn’t long before everyone returned to their normal conversations, about twenty minutes passing, before richie decided to lean in close to you, bringing his lips to your ear.

“m’ready to get the fuck outta here.”

and that’s how you ended up in the driver’s seat of richie’s car, his seat fully reclined back, one hand gripping the back of your neck, while the other guided your hips to bounce hard against his.

“ah, fuck - y’gonna make me cum in you if you keep fuckin’ me like that, sweetheart,” richie groaned, moving the hand that guided your hips to your back, pushing you further into his chest as he fucked up into you.

your face was in his neck, throaty moans and gasps leaving your lips as you sloppily kissed and sucked at the skin of his neck, the sound of your hips slapping into each other mixed with the squelch and slurp of your wet pussy taking his length leaving you a needy mess.

you were so close to reaching your peak, your pulsing hole clenching around richie’s dick as his thrust remained forceful and rough, “i can fuckin’ feel you around me, baby, y’want me to make you cum, yeah,” he chuckled, leaning his head against the headrest as he brought his hand to your hip, grinding your hips flush against his in circular motions.

“fuck, richie,” was all you could mewl through your gritted teeth, your stomach tight as your clit rubbed against the wet skin of his pelvis.

“keep ridin’ me, sweetheart,” he whispered, pecking your flexed temple as he forced your hips deeps against his, “just keep fuckin’ ridin’ me.”

yeah, your relationship with your coworker was far from orthodox, but neither of you seemed to get enough of it. nor, did you want to.

[neonovember]

This is an idea that’s been on my mind lately because Carmy would be so protective and would 100% treat his gf like a princess, so I thought I’d send it in ifs it’s okay!!🤧

Can I please request Carmy x fem!reader where it’s based off the song “Treat You Better”, where she’s one of his chefs, and Carmy has a biiiig soft spot for her, like soft smiles, hand on the small of her back. Y/n is veryyyy soft spoken and quiet, a very stark contrast to the rest of The Beef/The Bear staff. The staff absolutely love her and are super protective of her: She’s best friends with Sydney (also she’s around the same age as Syd, early 20s), Tina sees her as a daughter, Marcus is always trying to make her laugh and asks her to try his pastries, Richie is more gentle with her than he is with everyone else, Ebra has a calmness around Y/n, Sugar (when she stops by) loves treating Y/n like the little sister she never had, and Carmy… Carmy is head over heels for Y/n. He’s so soft and gentle with her, never raising his voice at her in the kitchen, and he always has the cutest nicknames for her🤧. However… Y/n has a boyfriend, they all know it, and they all share an extreme dislike for him. He’s not very nice, and it all goes to a boiling point when they spot bruises, Y/n letting her hair fall over her face.🥺 Tina and Sydney probably noticing right as she walks in one morning, then the rest of the staff noticing too, the whole kitchen getting eerily quiet, Carmy pulling her aside to his office to talk to her, holding Y/n in his arms while she cries🥺 Carmy 100% taking his bat and beating the crap out of her bf… Now ex, and he offers for Y/n to stay with him because she has nowhere to go? Their relationship growing after that? Y/n kissing him one day, shook at herself, but he kisses her back?

July in November

carmen berzatto x fem! reader

warnings: heavy domestic abuse, controlling fiance, swearing, violence, carmen goes gives absolute no regard for felonies, (assumed) unrequited love, self deprecation, victim blaming

a/n: this entire fic is just time skips l swear, I've written something similar here as well if you liked this which i hope you did! dv is a heavy subject, and not something to trivialise. if you or someone you know is going through dv, please reach out x

banner from @firefly-graphics

The streaks of concealer do little to hide the bloom of dark purples and blues.

They stretch out, clawing up your side and past your ribs, shades of overlapping blotched bruises that were not yet healed.

You were a chef trained in Oslo for god sake, you had friends and family who loved you- and you let out a laugh when the words come out pathetic and dull. 

You were right where he left you.

You suppose from the continuous uphill of your career, the exhaustion had made it easier to just sit still, let it happen. He had proposed and you had said yes unblinking. It was what he told the countless people at dinner parties he dragged you to in attendance, 

“I had finally beat her down enough to finally fall in love with me” He smiled, his eyes shining and his grip on your waist bruising as the people smiled and laughed and you swallowed back his irony.

The cycles of abuse had started before you could truly remember, bouts of angry yelling before the hot dull beat of pain. And he was so kind after, so thoughtful and apologetic, his eyebrows furrowed and his touch gentle as he leaned over you.

Were you still a victim, if you wanted to stay just for the after?

You shake your head, slowly blinking at the reflection of your bloated torso. Peeling away your shirt gently before buttoning up one of your work shirts instead.

Your heart settled when you thought of the Bear. It was your haven, Richie’s rambled drivel, Sugar hovering every so near, Carmen with his eyes and his inked hands and his sweet mouth. It wrapped around you more tightly than those bruises ever could.

You look over to watch your fiancé, fast asleep content with a full stomach and tired fists. He was so vulnerable like that, and the feeling of anger unfurls in your gut. For once, just one time you wanted him to feel it, that gut wrenching frightened feeling.

You look over to the stone doorstep near his desk, the stupid thing that he had revered at one of his art conventions that was left keeping the door open. You wonder, just for a second, what it would feel like to lean over him with it between your hands, waiting for the slight blink of his eyes that clear away the sleep. 

Watch the fear melt into them, and smashing his fucking face with it.

You breathe deeply, arranging your hair so it is out of your face, flattening out the creases in your shit and avoiding your stomach as you stood up and grabbed your bag.

“Where are you going” 

You blink, hands gripping your work bag as his voice bellows “Work”

“Huh. We need to sort that out soon”

You stopped, closing your eyes as you fiddled with the loose threads from the shoulder strap. You knew this conversation, where he would bring up another thing in your life he wanted to talk about, as if your relationship was built on a solid base of understanding and conversation. You would wait until his voice would ripen with jealousy and rage, where thinly veiled inquisition would fall away and reveal what he truly wanted. 

You had given him enough of your life, let him change and control it. But you would soon let yourself be buried then let him take this too from you. No fucking way.

“Sure”

You pass by the door, pushing the stone to the side. It wasn’t heavy at all.

It’s when you enter the back door of the Bear do you realise you’ve spent your whole commute over holding your breath.

The smells of sauces and expensive meats lulls your anxiety into a mummering tremble, and you sigh softly to yourself as you sling your bag into your locker.

You can already hear Richie arguing, and the tired voice of Carmen biting back and you want to slap yourself for all the times you had grown annoyed at them. What you would give to hear them always, to feel this level of safety and comfort without the overhanging timer of when you would eventually have to leave.

You nod towards Sydney, carrying a large tray of roasted pecans over to Sam, her braids intricately wrapped around her head.

The walkway is framed with pictures of the family, from Mickey to the recent Polaroids of Sugar's newborn. You notice a framed picture of the team from years ago, when you had first started working at the Bear. You’re squished between Carmen and Fak, the backdrop of a renovating Bear behind you all. 

The timidiness of being new had not left then, and despite the family enveloping you as their own you had wondered why Carmen had chosen you out of all the decorated chefs that had surely applied. You had asked him this once, after an exhausting dinner rush and he had simply looked up at you from his plate of stolen steak and eggs. 

“You’ve got something, Kid. Maybe it’s because you hadn’t yet gotten the light beaten out from the culinary world but I need that. Need someone who pushes against the boundaries you know?”

You had stayed quiet as he talked

“And you’re a local. Boston isn’t for the faint of heart, you know your diners better than they know themselves. Call it prejudice, I call it a safety cushion.“

You wondered what she would think of you now, her wide eyed dream so close you could see her tight grip on her chef coat in the grainy photograph.

You follow the noise of the crew into the kitchen, when Carmen is hunched over a chopping board and Richie is pointing out problems in the seating arrangement for tonight.

He exhales, ready to start another contingent when he spots your figure walking through the entryway.

“Finally. Someone fucking competent in this place” 

“Hey Richie” You smile, tightening your apron before biting back a wince. The darkness of your life outside of the Bear had a way of seeping in at times, you had grown too comfortable.

“Hey baby, you good? yeah?” Richie replies

“Richie-“ Carmen interrupts, turning his head to face you for the first time in an hour (which you did not realise but Riche surely did) 

“Fuck off. Fuck you. You sure baby? Need me to get you somethin? I got a pack of Marlboros if you need a break”

“Leave her alone, dammit Richie, and a cigarette this early?”

“Oh! Oh! The addict wants to act holier than thou all of a sudden. Just because you slapped on a couple Nic patches-“

“It’s gum and it’s fucking working asshole”

“The L hold you up?” Richie says, throwing the finger at Carmen

“No, no, um, just got in a little fight with David” You reply, cutting your eyes away from him.

Richie rolls his eyes with a groan, a sour expression filters over his face in flash at the mention of your fiance’s name.

“That fuckin’ guy, I swear that boyfriend of yours” Richie groans

“It was my fault really.”

You notice Carmen’s movements stop abruptly, the chopping growing silent with his back turned to you.

“I highly doubt that” Carmen grumbles, before Tina and Sydney come through the door

“Hey, why were you late you missed out on that guy who tried fighting Fak-”

“Her stupid fucking boyfriend”

“Easy” Carmen replies, turning to face you again

“Hey, c’mon Carmen you of all people know that man does not deserve her one fucking bit”

“Darling you need to get rid of that man I’m telling you, he ain't treating you the way you deserve. There's no good keeping an angry man” Tina chides, eyebrows raised as she wipes her fingers on the cloth draped over her shoulder.

“Yeah, he's a dick. And he’s always just…hovering when he comes.” Sydney replies

“And always talk in this condescending tone, adding random words to sound smarter than he is” Marcus’s voice interjects, peeking from around the pastry corner

“Like pseudo-intellectual goddamn-” Tina grumbles, in lightning speed

“Yuppie” Fak continues, and Tina nods 

“All I’m saying doll, is that if you end up dumpin’ him we’d be right behind ya’. Might throw a little party here, a small one…how much does it cost to hire some fireworks?”

“Ease up guys, her love life ain’t got nothing to do with us alright. Let the girl be” Carmen voice bellows “And we got work to do”

He turns to the rest of them, shaking his head feigning annoyance at the team gathering together to gossip. And yet, his hands grip his towel tight enough to leave them white, and his teeth grind against his molars when he thinks of your boyfriend.

You don’t know how they'd react when they find out he proposed, you can’t exactly hide a ring.

“Hey” You smile towards Carmen, who’s twisted features blink into resolve when he hears you

“Hey” He nods, wincing as he pressed his fingers to his temple gingerly.

“Still got that headache?”

“I’ll be fine, just wish it would save the eye stabbing until after dinner service”

“Here”

“I’m alright-“

“Take it” you repeat, pressing some pain killers in his hand.

Carmen nods gratefully, hands clasped around yours for a second longer. Before they part.

He eyes the pills, and for a second you see this puzzled look gleam across his eyes.

He pops them in his mouth, you let out a breath from your chest quietly.

You kept your work and home life separate, Carmen didn’t need nor should carry the burden of this ugly secret that paints you from the inside out.

You had a lid on it. You were sure.

You let yourself get lost in the ingrained memory of moving around the kitchen, letting the slice of your knife against the flesh of meat and fruit melt away everything you had been shouldering the past year.

It gets busy, really busy, Richie and Carmen fail to cohabitate in the hours of the dinner service, multiple plates are dropped, you almost can’t keep up with the never ending orders coming in but its also fucking amazing. The rush of delivering every component of a plate in time, making sure the meat is cooked until just right, making sure the sauce isn't runny, it feels like dancing. 

Your legs and arms ache, you have a headache and your apron is stained and you can’t tell the difference between the end of the dinner service and hitting the last step of a choreographed dance.

The high that buzzes through your body is mirrored by everyone around you, and you take a second to sink in that feeling of euphoria as the last tables are cleared.  

“That was..” You start, un-hunching your shoulders as the rest of the team look up in a daze, surrounding the kitchen

“Fuckin’ amazing, might be our best night yet” Richie grins, bobbing his chin as it rests on his hands

“That was good..we could've been a bit better at turning the tables-” Carmen murmurs

“Oh c’mon Carmy, we can talk about the finalities later but even you can admit that was pretty good” Sydney calls out, leaning her head against the door frame, as exhausted pulls at her every feature

“Yeah…yeah it was good”

“No one go anywhere, I’ve got left over schnitzel and potatoes and I know none of you have taken a break”

“How long has it been since we’ve sat down for family?” Tina mumbles, wiping her stained apron tiredly

“Too long, I don’t mind fixin’ it up” You stretch out your arms, unbuttoning your chef's coat and folding it neatly, despite Sugar throwing them into the sink to soak for the night later.

“I’ll help” Carmen nods to you, doing the same with his apron. His dark crew neck that sticks to him reveals with every button, outlining the indentations of his chest and biceps.

Family usually consists of throwing whatever leftovers from the night's dinner service onto a large plate and proceeding to throw some forks near it. There had been a long trail of food combinations that either delighted the crew or had you throwing your towel in and going to the taco truck nearby.

Today however, the night had gone so well and had distracted you even better. You could at least make up some plates, make ‘em look pretty or whatever else your hands had been trained to do.

The rest of the team move the tables to form one large spanning diner in the middle of the Bear, the scrape of wood against flooring is all that fills the air as you and Carmen work silently. You’re good together, that sort of chemistry that only comes with understanding a person so well you can anticipate their next move. And the night feels like a dance again, moving left and right, handing him pieces of chicken and spoonfuls of sauce, wiping plates clean and centering them right.

It’s only when Richie comes tumbling through the double doors does it cause Carmen to jump, spilling the ladle of hot gravy across your shirt. You wince, Carmen lets out a garbled grunt and Richie cringes.

Carmen is quick, reaching for a nearby cloth as he begins to lift up your shirt gingerly. The sauce isn't boiling, but there is a slight stinging heat that radiates across your midsection and you're too distracted and uncomfortable that you forget yourself, and let Carmen reveal you.

It takes Carmen a second, he's pulling your shirt up just below your underbra, and his fingers pause against the fabric.

You’re confused just for a moment, but it stretches out, and you let yourself sit in the fantasy of unknowing, you let yourself imagine a life where what was sprawled across your skin was just the remnants of a soggy shirt and irritated skin.

The truth of it hits you when you watch Carmen's face change in front of you.

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t-”

“What?” Richie calls, coming closer before throwing his head back

“Jesus fuckin' christ kid” 

“I-I we got into a fight-“

“A fight? He beat you!”

“You don’t understand-”

“Maybe I don’t but this-“ Carmen gestures to the welts and colours that paint your stomach “Is one of the worst things I’ve seen in a long time”

Carmen’s hands are still gripping your shirt, the rag dropped to the floor between you now as you lower your head and let your hair cover your eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ You croak out, tongue heavy and eyes blurring with tears.

“Sorry-?” Carmen circuses down to meet your eyes incredulously “You’re sorry? Why are you fucking sorry, look what he fucking did to you!- what has he done to you?”

“Hey hey, honey you need to tell us what happened. This isn’t right, no fight can justify this” Richie whispers, crouching near you as he watches Carmen carefully.

“It was an accident”

“Do you truly believe that?” Richie murmurs softly, and you look up with a furrow of your brow. 

You turn to Carmen whose face is twisted in anger, his eyes on your midsection, his hands around your sides and around you.

“I don’t know anymore..I’m just so tired” You whimper, your throat growing tight as Carmen’s brows furrow, blinking and grinding his jaw

“I’m going to fucking kill him-“

“Hey, Carmen wait just- wait” Richie is quick to reach Carmen as he rears back

“Look at her- he can’t-FUCK”

“I know, and we will. I want to break his goddamn legs but we got to think of her. We need to get her out of this, we need to think about her first”

Carmen closes his eyes as you watch their interaction, and he turns to you as you blink the tears that drop down your cheek. He frowns and waits for your approval and you nod, and Richie lets go of him and he gathers you in his arms and lets you cry the last of your resolve on his shoulder.

You don’t tell him anything, and he doesn’t ask. He lets you wet his shoulder as the silence that sits in the kitchen is consumed by your muffled cries instead. 

The commotion causes the rest of the team to flood in, putting the pieces together when they see your shoulders shaking with grief and your unbuttoned top. The bear hung with the sick reality of a beat woman, and the once hungry crew now felt the nauseous image in front of them fill their stomach.

Sydney is the one that eases you out of Carmen’s arms, and pulls your hair back as she whispers apologies into your ear. She takes you to the emergency room to make sure nothing is broken. When the nurses greet you by name she waits until you're in the examination room before sobbing into Tina’s arms.

“How did I not notice, I see her every goddamn day, how did I not notice he was hurting her?”

“Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself. There is only one person to blame”

The rest of the team follows, and they all sprawl across the waiting room, heads between their hands.

After one of the junior doctors gives you the all clear, and Carmen and Richie follow up on the police report you make your way down the linoleum hallway in the crumbled stained shirt that had started this all.

You blink as you watch the faces of everyone you love look up in worry, exhaustion is written into their bones and still they sit in the too small waiting chairs for you. You had never felt a love like that before, so profound and overwhelming clear and you breathe it in deeply like it's the last thing you’ll taste.

“I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t you fuckin dare-”

“I know, I know, just please hear me.”

They relent, and you wait until they all nod towards you before continuing

“You guys have taken me as your own, made me feel a part of something greater than myself.  I don’t want you to think I was unloved” Your voice heightens with the wet tears that fill your throat

“Every single time I came through those doors I felt it okay? I never understood the power of it, of love, but I feel it now and I felt it then. It just got muddled in the middle of all of this, of all the things I keep hidden. And that is my fault, but you guys, the Bear? You guys kept me alive” You whisper the last part, your voice caught in your throat as you try to still the shake your hands.

“You did nothing wrong baby, nothing. It’s hard to leave isn’t it? It’s hard to even say it” Ebra is the first one to whisper, holding your hands gently and carefully. You look at him, as his eyes gleam with the heaviness of his past and you don’t quite understand how, but you believe he knows that well. 

“We’re your family, whatever it is that you're dealing with we shoulder it to, we carry that burden. That is what we're here for, and you can take all the time that you need. Let us help you, but you know what happens now, yes?” Richie murmurs

“I need to get out”

“Damn fucking right you do. And fast, I know it's going to be hard but you need to act like everything is normal. Get in, pack a bag and get out.”

You breathe in deeply, remembering all the half packed duffle bags that had been left near the door. This time you wouldn't be able to back out, this time Carmen would make sure of it.

“Where’s Carmen?” You suddenly say, and Richie shifts his gaze to the exit sign.

“Maybe give him a few moments Kid” Richie murmurs, but you ignore him, moving quickly towards and out of the doors into the smoking area in the alleyway.

You spot him hunched over, back against the stone wall, trails of grey smoke filters from his mouth as you tsk loudly when you near him.

He raises his head up, widening his eyes before looking down at the cigarette.

“You were doing so good” You smile softly

“Yeah? Felt like pulling teeth, not grabbing for one every couple hours.”

“But those chewing gums”

Carmen shakes his head “Don’t tell Rich, but they were fucking disgusting”

You let out a hearty laugh, leaning back on the wall beside him.

Carmen takes one last deep drag, before pressing the butt of the stick into the wall that isn't near you.

It’s silent, and you feel him watching you for a long time before his voice replies in a croaky tear filled tone you had never heard come out of his mouth before.

“Goddamn it kid”

“I know” You reply instantly, the tears that you thought had left you were big fat liars.

“I want to blame myself, I will for a long time but this isn’t about me is it”

You shake your head furiously, it was so far apart from him. 

“What can I do? What can I do to make it better?” Carmen whispers, turning to face you fully now, eyes red and blonde curls messy across his brows.

“It’s not something you can fix Carm, you just got to let me do it. Let me walk away completely”

Carmen grits his teeth, “I should’ve made more attention-”

“How? Between renovating the Bear, organising the menu, fucking opening and maintaining the dinner service every night?”

Carmen shakes his head and you tug at his arm gently

“I didn’t let you notice Carm, I hid it well sometimes I even forgot about it. The bear, you? You let me forget, you let me feel so safe I forgot what he was doing to me”

Carmen reaches for your hand, holding onto it gently 

You shake your head, shaking the tears along with it. You hadn’t so much as let yourself hear the truth of what had been happening, but it flowed out of your mouth like a river into Carmen.

“He got drunk one night” You whisper, biting your cheek as you bristle at the memory of it

“He got drunk one night, and started accusing me of these horrible things. Things I would never do. And when I tried talking to him he just turned to me with this look in his eyes, and it was so unlike him Carm. It was like someone else had come and taken his body, and his voice and his mouth”

“And when I reached for him he reached back. And then I suppose I got used to being afraid of him”

“I don’t know what changed that night, but it did. Or maybe he had always been that way and I had been to blind by the feeling of being wanted that I ignored it. But it got worse, he hit me, but he started controlling what I was doing. Always flinging my phone in my face so that he could look for something that wasn’t there, eyes always scrutinising me when I came home fucking exhausted from the Bear.”

“That was how it started, and I guess it never quite ended” You murmur, and when Carmen drags his thumb across your cheek, you understand the rage that he had kept covered for you.

“I’m going to hurt him. And that's more for me than it is for you, I know it and I don’t care. He doesn't get to walk away.” Carmen replies after a beat, and his voice is even. You can see his anger from before slipping into the darkness of his pupils, but his voice is clear and devoid.

“I know” You murmur

“And you’re going to stay with me till we get you a place. Tina and Syd offered and well the whole team, but I can’t-”

“I know, you can’t put them in danger”

“No. I can’t let it happen, you being alone, him somehow getting to you. You being hurt again-” Carmen shakes his head, grinding his jaw as he cuts his eyes away.

“Okay” You mumble, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your secret that had weighed you down every day fall away.

The month after had passed quicker than any other time in your life. And for that you were grateful. You had packed a bag and moved into Carmen's apartment that night, and he and Richie had made good on their promise. They watched, as well as the rest of the Bear with a sneer as your fiance was carried into the police station, and you watched the mirror of your injuries multiplied across his face. 

The police had been slow in taking action, even you know this, so you suppose their tight lipped expressions at the beaten man they found in your trashed apartment made up for that.

Carmen slept near the door for the first two weeks, a bat in his hand and his notebook of recipes filled with scribbled annotations. Tossing and turning enough times, made you wrap your blanket around yourself and join him by the door. You would wake up some nights, in a sweat from the terror of your nightmare imagining him somehow finding you, and you would join him those times as well.

The truth of all that had happened still had not yet been told, and you doubt that it ever will. But you were okay with that, and Carmen was too. And so when your fiance had been tried and sentenced, and the promise of broken bones hung over him even years after, Carmen had made no mention of finding you a place. 

And so you stayed, and made a home for yourself. Let your shoes get muddled and clutter the hallway, have your toothbrush besides his own. Move in the last pieces of yourself that had been left in that prison to a place that could maybe change them.

You spent Thursdays with Richie, he’d wait at the foyer for you and he'd take you out for lunch like clockwork. Divulging in your week as he did his, he let you steal some of his cigarettes and you let him ramble to you. Richie had surprised you, when all was said and done. He had known what to do, knew how to talk to you, and you think you credit him to a lot of where you were now. You suppose he blames himself a little as well, so you don’t mind that Thursdays were his way of checking up on you.

You let the team act the same way, Tina bringing you plates of food and tupper wares of lasagna till Carmen's fridge was hard to open, Sydney calling every day, Ebra and Marcus making sure you had someone who could walk you home if Carmen had to stay back. And when you had finally had enough, they nodded and backed away and let you out of their grip.

You're crouched in the fire escape of Carmen's building, passing a bottle of wine that you had snuck from service. 

“I visited him today”

“What?” Carmen replies, knowing immediately who you were talking about.

You shrug your shoulders, “I was too much of a mess to confront him, and the court proceedings left me too numb to even face him. But I went today, and I told him. What he had done, how he had changed.”

“But then he laughed and I punched him in his goddamn mouth”

“Atta girl” Carmen grins, his smile filling up the entire bottom of his face.

“So I can’t ever come back to the Boston Corrections facility, and boy am I glad. You know what this means though right?”

“Hm?” Carmen mumbles with a mouthful of street tacos

“You can’t ever get yourself thrown in prison” You chide, and you smile when he throws his head back in laughter

“Seriously Carm?” You bemoan, resting against the living room entryway

“Yes, the bed is strictly meant for you. What do you take me for? Letting a woman sleep on the couch” Carmen gruffs, carefully placing the duvet over the couch cushions.

“It’s been nearly a year since I’ve moved in, Carmen. I don’t think it's ridiculous to assume we can share a bed together”

Carmen grinds his jaw, swallowing back grunt at the thought of sharing a bed with you. As if it was no big thing, as if Carmen would be able to sleep with you next to him.

“It’s called being a host”

“I signed the lease 2 months ago, we’re technically de-facto” You raise your eyebrows, folding your hands across your chest

“The only time I’ll let the government decide what we are is when-if I put a ring on that finger” Carmen replies, the little slip causing him to cut his eyes from you and back to the duvet that was already folded.

You shake your head with a laugh “This you’re way of proposing Carm? Take a girl out for dinner first”

Carmen mumbles under his breath, flattening the duvet with his inked hands before his phone buzzes

“Goddamnit, that’s Richie. 

“Leave that sofa and let's go down to meet our friends and have a nice time. God knows we’ve earned more than a few drinks at Nick’s” You reply, swiping Carmen’s phone

“Hey!”

“You weren’t even going to answer him” You roll your eyes.

You send Richie a text that was all apologetic and none grammatically correct as you shuffle out of your work pants into some jeans. 

The team was already at the bear, halfway through the first round of drinks and you’d be damned if you let Carmen make the both of you late.

Carmen is in jeans as well, and the white shirt he always dons fits around his chest tightly. You can lie to yourself most days, but in times like this, where you both live in this domestic bubble your mind wanders.

You don’t let it too much.

But when you're visiting family, and you pass by the Louisiana welcome sign planted in the roadway, and the weather gets warm and the nights stretch out you let yourself think of him. You let yourself imagine a life where he was entwined, in you, your life, your days while you drink on the porch of your family home.

The thought of being in anything new scares you to no end, your past finds you in moments you least expect and dredges you down to the same feeling you felt when you were with him.

But Carmen was your past too wasn’t he? He was muddled and interlinked with all the memories that make your chest ache and your hands shake. Carmen didn’t feel new..you had already been living with each other for a year now, and you suppose the way you both flow into each other's lives was no different.

You’d be together, in the way you had always been but different also. You’d get to grow familiar of the taste of him, you’d get to feel him under your skin, beneath your fingers, and he’d sleep in that fucking bed for the first time in a year.

Then the sun would dip below the horizon, the sounds of the insects and birds would come back to you, and the creeping shadow of guilt and insecurity would remind you of who you were again. 

You’d taste the bitter embarrassment of forcing Carmen to be that way with you, throwing your head back as you gulp down the beer in your hand as you try to stave away the taste. The dream disappears each time from you, like the oranges and reds that paint the Louisiana sky every evening.

“Hey, we going or what?” Carmen says, his eyes narrowing at, you noticing the way your eyes glaze over.

“Yeah, yes” You nod, swallowing the thoughts of him quickly as you finish tying your boots and let Carmen lock the door behind you. 

The bar is surprisingly crowded on a Tuesday night, and you have to squeeze past crowds of leather wearing bikers before finally seeing the team seated in a long booth at the back.

“Finally!” Richie yells, hands in the air and his beer swishing out of the neck.

“We were about to send a search party” Tina smiles, looking toward you with a glint in her eyes when she notices Carmen’s arm at your back.

“Aren’t you guys like, a 2 minute walk from this place? Fak got here before you” Marcus replied, his old fashioned nursed in your arms.

“I had no involvement in our tardiness, he was too busy fixing his makeshift couch bed”

“Oh don’t tell me your still sleeping on that” Richie’s eyes widen

“You know that ain’t even a good couch right? We found it on the side of the road-“ 

“It’s not good for your back Carmen, all those cushions” Ebra shakes his head disapprovingly.

“It’s perfectly fine Ebra, and who would I be if I let a woman sleep on the couch?” Carmen grumbles, as both slide into the booth next to Sydney.

“I mean, there is an easy straightforward solution” Sydney murmurs, and everyone turns to her quickly.

“You could both just sleep in the same bed together” She replies, after looking at everyone dumbfounded.

“Only married people share a bed, that’s Sicilian tradition”

“Yeah, mixing work and personal life isn’t-“

“Mixing? They already live together!” Sydney replies, defensively.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already” Four murmured, before snapping his mouth closed when Carmen narrows his eyes to him.

“It’s not about fucking tradition, or whatever. I’m not gonna put her-you in that situation and make you uncomfortable”

“Why would you make me uncomfortable?” You murmur without thinking, and the booth goes quiet.

Carmen shakes his head, blinking as you remain quiet.

You wince at the silence, maneuvering your body quickly out of the booth as you almost fall out.

“Uh-I’m going to get a drink” You reply quickly 

Carmen's body isn’t fast enough for his legs and he stands up from his position on the booth quickly, almost tumbling over.

 “I’ll come with you”

You shake your head, forcing a tight smile as you wave him off.

“It’s okay, I know your order” You reply quickly, turning around without seeing the look on Carmen’s face.

You slide into one of the vacant barstools, signalling to the bartender as they make the rounds across the counter.

The rows of silver bracelets that hang around the bartender's wrists cling as they mix and shake drinks, and you let yourself get lost in the glittering light show of them reflecting off the bar lights. They distract you enough to not notice the man that now leers over you.

You flinch when you feel his hand touch your shoulder, and when you turn expecting one of the guys from the Bear you're taken back when you're met with a five o clock shadow and a stink of vodka.

“What's a girl like you doin’ all alone?” 

“I’m good” You grit out from between your teeth

“Oh c’mon, you girls love to play hard but what you really need-”

“I said leave me alone asswhole” You spit, roughly moving his latched fingers from your shoulder. 

The man sneers, his voice growing louder and sloppy as he begins to swear at you. His hands find their way to your waist, and the shiver of disgust turns into a familiar sharp pain as you shout out.

“You fucking bitch” The man starts, before you see the flash of dirty blonde curls cover your vision and the feeling of his fingers around you is wrenched off.

Carmen’s hands are around his neck, and he slams him into the wooden floors of the Bar with ease. He holds him there before turning to look up at you, his eyes blown out and his eyebrows furrowed behind his curls. Your chest heaves as you meet his gaze, and you watch as his eyes trail down your body, almost surveying the extent of your injuries and filing it into his mind so that it is all he thinks about when he breaks the skin across his knuckles.

You watch Carmen work, watch the way his shoulders and back contorts under every movement that lands a punch into the man's face. The buzzing chatter of the bar increases, as people begin to take notice of the shouts of frazzled swears and slobby slurs that leave the man's mouth. Someone screams there is a fight, and the bartender mutters obscenities as they try to push through the crowd.

Carmen lands punch after punch into his face, with no real sense of stopping as his movements grow more and more crazed with every crack of skin and dribble of blood that paints his hands. Carmen's eyes look determined, like he had a goal to all of this, and when Richie and the rest of the team pushes past the crowd and shouts out to him to stop, he looks up at you do you know.

You didn’t get to see what he had done to your husband, or how. But now, he takes his time with the man under him who kicks and fails, blubbering out blood and drool. He continues to stare at you, and the rest of the patrons look on in horror as the man under Carmen becomes disguised by the brutality of Carmens fists across his body. You hear the crack of bone, and when the man screams out a loose and garbled apology from the swollen tongue of his mouth, does Carmen flick his eyes down to him.

“You’re sorry? Yeah?” Carmen murmurs, softly

The man nods eagerly, his mouth filling with blood and his eyes swollen

“I’m not sure I believe that” Carmen replies, sending his foot into the mans stomach as he keels over

“Okay, Carmen that's enough” Richie calls out

“All I did was ask her a question!” The man screams out, his words jagged and unclear

“Hey, you shut the fuck up” Richie replies, before clocking his head to try and meet Carmens gaze who is back on you

“Look man, I get it. That one time wasn’t enough, but you can’t keep doing this”

Carmen grinds his teeth, as you look on in awe as his knuckles bleed violently, throwing his arm up and swinging down onto the man.

You got what you needed from this, and so when you step closer to Carmen and turn your head to the side you can only think of one thing

“I’m banned for at least 12 months” 

You watch his fingers loosen around the man's bloody shirt, and Carmen wipes his hands across the man's chest before slowly straightening up from his crouched position.

“Get the fuck out, the both of you before the cops get here” The bartender grits out, shaking his head.

Carmen nods, “I’m not fucking sorry”

“Yeah yeah I know” The bartender rolls his eyes, before you grab Carmen's arm and push through the gawking faces of onlookers

You find a door leading out to a side alleyway, and you both fall out from the door into a combined heap.

“I had to do it okay? The way he was looking at you and that fucking hand around your side I couldn’t just let him-“ Carmen starts, chest heaving up and down and the splatter of spit and blood across his jaw

You don’t let him finish the rushed words that fall out of his mouth before you cover it with your own. Gripping onto the loose collar of his shirt, you drink down the anger and violence that had been festering on the both of you.

Carmen tastes sweet, like the cranberry jus he had been preparing, and rough too, like his worn workmen jacket and the pepper taste of his nicotine gum.

You realise then that you would never taste something as great as that, and that you would be chasing the feeling of how Carmen’s lips against your own vibrates through you from head to foot.

You pull away with quickness, chest heaving and eyes wide as you feel Carmen’s mouth warm your chest.

Carmen doesn’t blink, he stares at you, the brittle Chicago winter blowing his hair across his forehead and the distant sound of sirens and he stares at you.

“I’m not sorry” You whisper, pressing your lips together

“Good” Carmen replies before you’ve even uttered the last word.

And when you blink the cold smoke of his breath is over you again, his inked fingers cradle your head and he takes your mouth again.

You don’t stop the crash of your open mouths and dipping tongues until the warmth of Carmen covers you entirely, until November in Chicago feels like July.

taglist !

@kpopgirlbtssvt @hansfics @nolita-fairytale @parmforcarm @rooster-bradshaw

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: this fic really only happened bc @youunravelme sent the pic of mat in the brown suit and said he looks like he could be carrying a diaper bag 😂 and then my mat and squeaks-loving heart ran with that! i’ve been telling their story in bits and pieces and out of order, but this story has more mention of squeaks’ mental state post-partum

word count: 4.2k

tw: mentions of post-partum anxiety, mentions of being on anti-anxiety medication, body image issues,

summary: being a bridesmaid in a wedding out east is the perfect reason for a little family and friends getaway, but you can’t completely let go of your anxieties

You should be having fun, getting ready with the girls and having your hair and makeup done, but your chest feels tight and you’re finding it hard to breathe.

Maybe air. You need air.

Rubbing at your sternum with one hand curled into a fist, you wander over to the French doors of the bridal suite, pushing them open and sticking your head out onto the balcony. The slight breeze off of Sag Harbor Bay is helping, the salty air cool and taking an edge off the mid-July heat.

A cool hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, turning slightly to see Kristy’s concerned face. “Are you okay?” She asks, a furrow between her eyebrows.

“I…yes? No?” You falter, fist still pressed against your chest. You recognize the anxiety symptoms, familiar as they are, but you’re not sure what triggered it. You’d been laughing just a few minutes ago, all the bridesmaids getting the final touches before heading out to line up for the ceremony.

“How about some water?” Kristy’s already uncapping a water bottle and handing it to you as she speaks, a mom multitasking.

You’re sipping at the water, your head spinning a little bit, when there’s a knock on the door to the suite. You can’t see who’s at the door, but you do hear Syd call your name, laughing, “we have an uninvited husband and baby here.”

“Oh!” You don’t have to see Mat and Talia for the knot in your chest to ease and for your breathing to get easier. They’re exactly who you needed and you don’t waste any time in hurrying as fast as your heeled feet will take you towards the door to the suite.

Mat’s hovering at the door, looking handsome and polished in his suit, a far cry from the disheveled, bed-headed mess you’d left behind at the Martins’ Hamptons home this morning. He’s got Talia in his arms, her back against his chest so she can see everything that’s going on. Syd’s squishing her little cheeks, making your fifteen-month-old giggle wildly and wriggle in Mat’s arms. The skirt of her summery floral dress is bunched up under Mat’s forearm, exposing chunky toddler legs.

“Hey!” Mat looks up and grins at you, the delighted expression on his face flickering when he sees whatever expression is on yours.

“Mama!” Talia shrieks and lunges for you, Mat’s arms tightening reflexively around the wiggly toddler.

Syd laughs and gives her a noisy kiss on the cheek. “Aunt Syd doesn’t hold a candle to Mom, I guess,” she shrugs and you offer her a faint smile.

“She’ll change her mind in like twenty minutes,” you joke, reaching out for her and stepping into Mat’s personal space. “Hi, Bug. Having a good morning with Daddy? I’ve missed you.” There’s a wobble to your voice and Mat doesn’t miss it.

“Hey,” he ducks his head closer to yours, his cheek brushing against the side of Talia’s head, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”

It’s the exact same question Kristy asked a few minutes ago, but when Mat asks it, you can’t help the tears that well up in your lash line or the hiccuping sob that escapes your lips even as you try to press them together.

Mat’s face immediately falls and he quickly kisses the side of Talia’s head, murmuring to her, “you’re gonna hang with Aunt Syd for a minute, okay, Bug?”

“No!” You nearly yelp, holding Talia’s fingers tighter. You don’t want her out of your sight. “No,” you repeat, quieter. “Just…just let me hang out with her for a minute.”

Talia chants her few words, mamas and dadas falling happily from her smiling mouth, her hands tucked in yours. You can feel the anxiety seep from your body, your shoulders lowering from your ears.

Mat nods and he secures Talia against his chest with one arm so he can cup your cheek with the other hand. His thumb brushes softly against your cheekbone and you lean into his touch, barely concerned about the layer of makeup coating your skin. “You were okay this morning,” he says, a statement that sounds more like a question.

“Mhm,” you hum a reply, smiling widely at Talia and brushing her dark curls off her face. She scrunches up her face and squeals when you tickle her cheeks. “I…I was okay until a few minutes ago, honestly. I don’t know, Mat.” You lift one shoulder in a shrug, knowing that your anxiety is unpredictable lately, less constant than in the months following Talia’s birth, but no less severe when the attacks hit.

Talia reaches for the chain of your necklace, tangling her little fingers in the fine metal, and you finally take her from Mat’s arms, only slightly concerned about wrinkling the chiffon of your lavender bridesmaid dress. She curls up against your chest, her head fitting perfectly under your chin, and you have to swallow back another wave of emotion.

He leans slightly against the doorframe and studies your face. After a beat, he says, “do you think you’re tapering off the Lexapro too fast?”

It’s been three months since you started tapering off, guided by your doctor’s advice, and it’s been hard. Easier now that it’s summertime and Mat’s around every day.

You shrug, shake your head. “I don’t think so, no? I took it this morning anyway,” you sigh, pressing your cheek against the top of Talia’s head. She’s wiggling in your arms, fighting to get loose and run around. “I’ve never been away from her for this long.”

“It’s only been eight hours,” Mat raises an eyebrow. His hand is on your hip now, stroking gently, and you try not to think about the layers of Spanx under your dress, the way your hips have spread since Talia’s birth, the stubborn ten pounds that won’t go away. You’re back in your pre-pregnancy size, technically, but you just don’t feel right in your skin yet and the bridesmaid dress is only serving to emphasize just how off you feel. The extra padding at your hips and chest feels strange to you, even though Mat’s proven time and time again that he can’t keep his hands off of you, no matter your size.

“Yeah,” you agree. “But she’s always with me, all day.”

Mat sighs your name. There’s a little defensiveness in the slope of his shoulders now. “I have her though,” he says. “I can handle her alone.”

“I know,” the words spill out, “I know you do! You’re the best dad, Mat. I just…feel like…like? It’s not that I didn’t think you were okay, I missed her. It’s scary, not to have her with me.” The hiccuping sob is back, shaking your voice, and you have to hoist Talia higher up on your hip. She’s babbling to herself, wiggling around, and you know you should let her toddle around to get some of her energy out before the ceremony, but you can’t seem to let her go.

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek, trying not to think of the days she was in the NICU, when Mat was gone. You thought you were over that hump, worked through the trauma with your therapist and with Mat, but for whatever reason, today is really hard.

“Hey,” Mat reaches up and brushes at your cheek, wiping a tear away, “I know. Squeaks, I know. But she’s here and she’s okay and you’re not a bad mom.”

“Maybe I wasn’t ready for this,” you huff, embarrassment starting to settle in your stomach. You’re being dramatic. You’d said yes to being a bridesmaid before you even knew you were pregnant with Talia and even after her birth, since Syd and Kristy were also bridesmaids, you’d figured you would be okay surrounded by your friends.

Mat leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth, mindful of your lipstick. “You’re fine. Just a bad brain moment,” he mumbles, using your therapist’s phrase for your anxiety. “T and I are going to be cool during the ceremony and then the three of us will party it up with everyone else, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, squeezing Talia one more time - getting an outraged squawk from her in return - before passing her back to Mat. They give you matching scrunch-faced smiles and you return a watery smile.

“Say bye to Mommy,” Mat jiggles Talia a bit and she giggles, waving and chanting a ‘bye bye, Mama’ in her sweet little voice.

“Bye bye, baby,” you wave back, your smile more natural now.

Mat leans in for one more quick kiss, Talia shrieking a giggle as she swoops forward in his arms. “You look beautiful,” he whispers against your cheek. “Lucky me, I get to go home with the hottest bridesmaid.”

Normally you’d roll your eyes at his flirting, but today you really needed the compliment. Your stomach warms and you smile gratefully at him.

He and Talia wave at you and she blows kisses, making you laugh as they head down the hallway and off to the outside patio where the ceremony will take place.

You’re feeling better after seeing them and when Syd and Kristy drag you back into the festivities and photographs, it’s fun again.

Mat’s sitting with Casey, Matt, and the kids towards the back of the crowd - daddy dare care while the moms are busy in the bridal party. You catch sight of Mat’s dark head immediately and your heartbeat kicks a little when you spot Talia’s matching dark hair over his shoulder. She’s standing on his thighs, her hands in his for balance, and when she sees you walking down the aisle, she shouts and waves at you, nearly losing her balance and tipping off of Mat’s lap. Casey’s hands shoot out and steady her before she can really go anywhere and you exhale in relief.

You wave at her behind your bouquet, an easy smile on your face.

The ceremony is a blur, your focus on Mat and Talia in the back. Towards the end, he has to slip out quickly with the diaper bag on his shoulder, but he’s back a few minutes later, shooting you a quick thumbs up.

By the time you get inside after photographs, cocktail hour is winding down. You, Syd, and Kristy find your little group immediately - Jack, Reese, and Winnie in a little dance circle in the corner even though there’s no real music playing. Alice, Cole, and Talia are looking rough, interrupted naps and a long day getting the best of the younger crowd.

“Hi!” You call out, setting your bouquet on the table the guys have commandeered, reaching out immediately for Talia. Mat offers her up easily and she clings to you like a little koala. “Missed you, baby,” you murmur, kissing the top of her head.

She’s got a handful of squished French fries, which you didn’t realize until her fingers loosen and a couple of them fall down the top of your dress.

“Ah,” you wince when the cold potato touches your skin. Mat snorts at the look on your face and stands up with a napkin to wipe off Talia’s hands.

“Am I allowed to stick my hands down your top to clean you up or is that public indecency?” He asks with a cheeky smile. There’s a smudge of red on his jaw - ketchup, most likely, and you smirk a little, amused that neither Matt nor Casey felt like telling him about it.

Before you can answer, all four of your friends chime in together, “public indecency,” earning an eye roll from Mat.

He ignores them and blocks your body with his so no one can see his hand disappear into your bra. He fishes out the fries and tweaks your nipple on the way out. You turn a gasp into a cough and glare at him. His answering smile is all faux-innocence.

“Now that you two are done being gross,” Matt rolls his eyes, even though he’s smiling, “are you ready to head in?”

The group is ushered into the main reception hall, floor to ceiling windows giving a gorgeous view of the water and the sun as it dips towards the horizon. The kids run off, pointed towards their table by Syd, and the adults head to the table right next to it, the toddler group accompanying. Talia slumps on your lap, looking like she’s fading a bit, until Mat pulls a piece of his roll off and hands it to her.

She beams at him and you make an attempt to get her to say ‘thank you’ that mostly ends up being gibberish unless she’s saying ‘Dada.’

“Feeling better?” Mat asks quietly, angled in your direction. You reach out to swipe your thumb over his jaw, cleaning off the ketchup, and he frowns down at your hand before huffing a laugh when he sees the condiment smudge.

You nod. “I’m good,” you reassure him with the truth. “I think I just really needed to see T this morning.”

His hand is warm on your knee and he nods, satisfied after he studies your face.

The bride and groom make their entrance, doing away with the entrances for the bridal party except for the maid of honor and the best man, and when it’s time for the couples to join them on the dance floor for the first dance, Mat takes Talia in his arms and after the distribution of kids to adults has happened, you’re dancing with Jack. He looks adorable in his little suit, seriously trying to spin you when he sees Casey twirl Reese.

“Jack, you’re the best dance partner I’ve ever had,” you laugh, helping him out by squatting and twirling under his arm.

He grins at you, showing off a smile of half baby teeth and half-grown in adult teeth. “Make sure you tell Uncle Mat,” he says. “Cause he said he could beat me in a dance contest, but I don’t think he can.”

“I’ll pass along the message,” you grin back. The music speeds up and you start swinging Jack’s arms in wide arcs, making him laugh. You push him out and pull him back in, wrapping him in a hug and tickling his sides. He breaks away and transitions into a few fairly impressive dance moves, including the Robot, which you’d love to know where he learned.

Mat dances over to you, Talia happy in his arms and wiggling along to the music. You take her and shimmy, making her laugh.

“Sick moves, Jacky,” Mat grins, ruffling his blond hair.

“Aunt Squeaks said they’re better than yours,” the seven-year-old shoots back, making an attempt to moonwalk away.

You burst out laughing and Mat turns a betrayed look on you. “Seriously?” He asks. “My moves are amazing!”

“Oh, look,” you smile, turning your head, “dinner’s being served!” It’s not, but it works to make Mat laugh and grab your hand to spin you and Talia in a circle.

Dinner is served a few minutes later and you and Mat trade off on who gets to hold Talia on their lap so the other can eat. Mat ends up with her for a good chunk of the meal, talking over her head and opening his mouth when she tries to reach up and shove a roasted potato past his teeth.

“Hey, cool it, girl,” you laugh, tugging at her hand when she misses his mouth and nearly shoves the potato up his nose. “Daddy doesn’t want to breathe in potato.”

Casey and Matt share a laugh before Matt chimes in, “his nostrils are big enough he’ll be able to breathe around the potato.”

Mat flips them off behind Talia’s back and you join in with their laughter, not even pretending to hide it when Mat turns a betrayed look on you. “My own wife,” he cries dramatically. “No loyalty even in my own home.”

You shrug and feed Talia a piece of your filet mignon. “I can’t fight the truth, baby,” you tease, leaning out of the way when Mat reaches for you to pinch your side.

The dance floor picks up again and you find yourself spinning with Mat’s arms around you, Talia taken by Syd to dance with her and Alice.

“She’s a little party animal,” you laugh, watching her wiggle while holding hands with Alice.

“Gets it from her mom and aunts,” Mat teases, hands low on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You can feel the gentle press of his cock against your hip, semi-hard behind his zipper. “She’s going to be a handful when she’s older, isn’t she?”

You nod. “Oh yeah, I think we’re going to have fun watching her grow up,” you murmur, emotion tightening your throat.

Casey and Matt swing Reese and Winnie in the air, Kristy shimmying with Jack. The little group is all laughter and smiles.

“I’m so glad we were able to do this,” you say after a few seconds. “The mini-vacation, the wedding. I know I freaked out this morning, but it’s nice to be around everyone.”

“Good,” Mat presses a soft kiss to your temple, swaying with you. “I was a little worried, not gonna lie.”

A little knot of guilt tangles in your stomach and you frown into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into the fabric of his shirt. “I know this past year has been…” you trail off, too many adjectives applicable to describe the past year.

Mat laughs faintly, “I know. You don’t have to apologize, I’m just glad we’re pretty much back to normal.”

Over Mat’s shoulder, you watch Jack spin Talia in a circle to make her laugh. She laughs so hard she nearly falls over and your heart skips a beat when it seems like she might hit the ground. Matt catches her back and holds her until she regains her balance, still giggling.

“My mom mentioned coming down for a visit,” Mat continues. “Maybe we can take her up on that, let her babysit and go away for the night, just the two of us?”

There’s something in Mat’s tone, a little cajoling, a little frustrated, a lot hopeful.

You haven’t been away with just Mat since before Talia was born, haven’t even spent more than a handful of hours away from her before this morning, but still, you find yourself nodding. “That sounds nice,” you reply, meaning it.

Mat’s fingers squeeze your hips and you pull back to see his smile, grinning back at him.

It’s not the old normal, but the new normal is pretty nice too.

The night winds down and you leave the reception early, Mat’s jacket draped over your shoulders and Talia passed out in Mat’s arms. You help lead the older kids out to the cars, making sure Reese doesn’t trip over her feet. Everyone gets buckled into their appropriate car seats for the drive back to the Martins’ and you find your eyes closing while Mat drives.

His hand is warm in yours and the radio is playing quietly.

“You look beautiful,” Mat says into the silence.

You crack a small smile and open one eye to look at him. “You said that earlier,” you remind him.

“I wanted to say it again,” he turns to you at the red light and flashes a grin, making your stomach flip with butterflies.

“Well,” you squeeze his hand, “I like hearing it.”

Talia wakes up when you try taking her out of the car, whining and crying for you. Her little hands reach out and you take her from Mat, cuddling her close and stroking her dark curls, hoping she’ll fall back asleep. She’s overtired though and doesn’t settle until all three of you are in bed, her cheek pillowed on your chest and her hands fisted in your shirt.

“Shh,” you hum, quietly starting to tell her a story. She whines and wiggles and Mat drapes his hand over her back too, a warm, heavy weight that’s worked to soothe her since she was born. He tickles her back lightly and scoots closer to you, head propped up on his hand. Talia’s cocooned in between your bodies, her knees tucked up to her chest, and she slowly falls back asleep, her face going slack. Her grip on her stuffed cat loosens, even though the plush toy is wedged under her chin for comfort.

“Sometimes,” you whisper to Mat, looking at him over Talia’s body, “I can’t get over how perfect she is.”

He yawns and nods, dragging the light comforter higher up over you and Talia. “We’re pretty damn lucky,” he agrees. He closes his eyes and curls his body in a c-shape around you and Talia, breathing evening out before long.

You’re tired, but you stay up for a little bit longer, watching your husband and daughter sleep. Your fingers trace the curve of Talia’s nose lightly and she wrinkles it, snuggling closer to you in her sleep. Mat snores softly, his breaths ruffling the back of Talia’s hair.

It makes you emotional, to have your entire heart curled up next to you like this.

With a faint smile on your face, you close your eyes and drift off.

Mat lets you sleep in the next morning and you wake up around eight, with a still hot mug of coffee on the night table and a few rocks and shells next to the mug - Mat must’ve taken Talia out to the beach early. You take your time getting ready, pulling on jean shorts and a tank top over your bathing suit before padding downstairs. Being back in your regular clothes makes you feel more normal than the shapewear and bridesmaid dress from last night. You can ignore the extra few pounds and new shape to your body when you’re just in shorts.

There are pastries on the counter, crumbs and dirty plates indicating that you’re not the first person to wander down for breakfast. You pull off a piece of an almond croissant and pop it into your mouth as you head outside. As soon as you open the back door, you’re treated to the childish laughter and splashing noises from the pool.

“Morning!” Syd calls, waving from a lounge chair. “Come join us.”

Kristy beams at you from the next chair and then almost immediately frowns when Jack cannonballs into the pool, sending a huge splash of water into the air. “Jack! I thought I said no splashing!” She calls as soon as his head pops back above the water.

“But Tal and Cole laugh when I do it,” he argues, pointing at the two youngest, who, sure enough, are cracking up in Mat and Casey’s arms. Mat winks at you and you smile, waving as you take a seat at the edge of the third lounge chair.

“Talia and Cole also laughed when Dad dropped the egg carton, but we’re not going to keep doing that,” Kristy shakes her head.

Jack pouts, but to his credit, stops doing cannonballs and instead commandeers a dragon shaped pool float with Winnie and Reese hanging off the wings, shrieking.

It’s loud and chaotic and it’s perfect.

Mat swims over to the edge, Talia holding onto his hands while she kicks. “Good sleep?” He asks, splashing a little water onto your feet.

“Mhm,” you hum, “thanks for letting me sleep in.”

“Anytime,” he leans back, dragging Talia through the water. “T and I took a nice walk on the beach, chatted about all the birds we saw, picked up lots of treasures for Mommy.”

“Bird!” Talia pipes up, loudly and happily, looking around.

Mat grins at you, inclining his head as if to say ‘see?’

You smile back, giggling a bit, and then Mat kicks off the wall, swimming around and making boat noises while he navigates Talia through the water and around the obstacles of Matt, Casey, and the other kids.

“I love summer dad camp,” Syd sighs, stretching out in her chair. “It’s a nice little break.”

It’s definitely nice to have this summer experience as opposed to last summer’s insanity. You can finally enjoy watching Mat with Talia in the warm weather.

He tosses her a little into the air, catching her before she hits the water, and despite the way your heart lurches, you smile at the sound of her shrieked laughter mixing with Mat’s.

They swim past Matt and Alice reaches for Talia for a high-five, one of Talia’s favorite tricks. She looks startled when her hand keeps going and splashes down into the water, sending droplets flying onto her and Mat’s faces. Your husband laughs and wipes the water from Talia’s face before blowing raspberries against her cheeks.

It’s the cutest fucking thing you’ve ever seen.

You surprise yourself, thinking about a second baby held in Mat’s arms. Neither of you have really talked about it that seriously and you’ve been sort of holding your breath, waiting for your brain and body to feel normal enough to do it all over again. But now, maybe it’s time to really start thinking and talking about a second baby. You do a little quick math in your head, if you get pregnant right away, easy like it was with Talia when you weren’t even trying, Talia would be just around two when a second baby would be born. That’s a nice age difference, even three years like Mat and Liana would be good too.

You chew at your lower lip, watching Mat and Talia. Smiling when she smushes his cheeks in her hands and bonks her forehead against his.

Yeah, a second mini-Mat wouldn’t be so bad.

[fishfooddude]

I have asked

Ele fica todo "porra podia ter matado ela" e ela "tá tudo bem bear ☺️ você não sabia"

Sunshine Reader who works at The Beef (started working there while Carmy was working in Germany) he does not know much about her yet

Then he is making a new recipe and calls her to prove and she goes all happy, when he will put the spoon in her mouth everybody gives kitchen screams saying that he could not because he had set a thing she has allergy

He gets all "I could have killed her" and she's like is okay Bear ☺️, you did not know "

Sorry for the bad English

Hey, don't apologize for the 'bad English'. English is a very hard language. It's my only language, and it confuses me every day.

Anyway, enjoy :)

Allergic to Sunshine

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

The Bear MasterList

Directory

“Yo, you busy?” Carmy asked as you worked at your prep station. You shook your head, “Just on veggie prep for the lunch rush.”

Carmy nodded as he stood there with his hands on his hips. He watched you chop briefly before asking, “Can you taste something for me?” 

“Sure!” you smiled, placing your knife at the top right corner of your station before following Carmy to his. You passed Marcus and Tina on the way. After cheerfully greeting the two of them and engaging in some casual small talk, Carmy put the final touches on the dish he’d wanted you to taste. 

You liked Carmy; he was pretty serious but had a plethora of culinary knowledge. When he took over The Beef the summer after Mikey died, you weren’t sure what would happen to your job. The late and great Mikey Berzatto hired you as a catch-all employee of sorts. You were a broke college student who managed to convince him to give you a chance. 

After Mikey died, you were worried Richie would downsize, but he assured you that you were family- and you don’t fire family. When the staff found out Carmy was moving back to Chicago to take over the restaurant, Richie reassured you again that ‘Mr. New York’ wouldn’t be allowed to fire you because while The Beef may have been in Carmy’s name- it was Richie’s restaurant.

Carmy changed a lot about The Beef claiming it would be more efficient and it would be the change needed to turn it from just a sandwich shop to the restaurant he wanted to create to honor Mikey. He moved you from your catch-all role to learning how to be a line cook. He’d managed to teach you some basic knife skills and cooking quickly became a way for the two of you to communicate- despite your multiple food allergies.

When you made your way to Carmy, he passed you a plate of fancy-looking dishes with a green and yellow sauce swirl. “What is this?” you questioned as you took a spoon to the dish. “Tryin’ out some sauces for a seafood risotto Syd and I have been workin’ on,” Carmy explained as he leaned against his station with his arms crossed over his chest. You nodded, and he started explaining the sauces, “The yellow is a pineapple hot sauce, and the green is pea, garlic, and chili oil-”

“Yo Cousin! Are you tryin’ to kill her? She’s allergic to everything on that plate.” Richie yelled from the other side of the kitchen. Carmy looked up at the ceiling before sighing and turning his attention to you with a dumbfounded expression plastered across his face. “You were just gonna eat that? Even though you’re allergic?” 

You shrugged, “You didn’t know I was allergic to pineapple, peas… or most shellfish.” 

You watched Carmy squeeze the bridge of his nose with one hand as he took the plate away from you with the other. “Any other allergies I should know about?” he chuckled slightly.

“Pumpkin. You didn’t know- it’s okay, Carm.” you smiled as you playfully punched his arm. Carmy shook his head as he walked away from the station, laughing about how ridiculous this situation was. You couldn’t help but blush as you walked back to your station. He was something else, but so were you.

[thecapricunt1616]

Bestie! Dad Carmy

Surprise! Dad! Carmy is still rotting my brain. Just thinking about Carmy during the 12-18 month stage with his first baby (more btc). 

Bc like I don’t have kids myself yet but have been around them a lot and 12-18 months is when things start getting fun. Babies are laughing and starting to talk a bit more and show interests. 

He would absolutely be a clingy dad. Like the first year I absolutely think he would have Syd take the reins on the restaurant and he would more handle the back of house book type things so he could just stay home more, but if he did have to go to the restaurant - I can see his little angel being The Bears mascot. 

Like he would walk in, sunglasses on, baseball cap, dad mode activated wearing his baby on his front like in one of those stretchy carriers. His baby even would have on little sunglasses herself bc she gotta twin with dad, that’s her bestie. He would walk in through the back and go into the office just to grab something on his way to run some errands but would run into Tina or something and it would become a whole ordeal. 

If it’s pre-service time everyone is taking turns holding her and playing with her, Carmy is proudly showing off as soon as she can say ‘dada’. You can bet if it’s pre-service he’s getting her all dressed up in a cute outfit before he goes by because he knows everyone is gonna gush over how cute she is. He would be so blushy and proud and happy whenever he has his little mini-me with him, his mood would be a full 360 from when he’s just there to work and get shit done. 

And don’t get me started if one day you went for family dinner as a surprise and they’re all sitting at the table and his baby just toddles in holding her baby bear in one hand and some random kitchen tool like a whisk she picked up as you snuck in through the back and just gently taps his side and offers it to him bc she just associates cooking tools with daddy since he’s always holding them. He would be sooooo happy like the esp if it was the first time you had surprised him with her at work- Syd would be like 

“I dont think I’ve ever seen him smile that way - it’s kinda creeping me out” but he doesn’t even notice enough to tease her back because he’s so entrenched in making his baby giggle and having her try the food they’d been eating to see how she likes it since at that age they’re old enough to eat solids. 

Don’t even get me started on music that baby would love music all babies do but really anything art because I mean look who her dad is but never in his life did that man ever think he would WILLINGLY dance around especially in a silly way but MAN as soon as his baby starts dancing to music he can’t help himself he’s up copying them, showing them his own dad moves to make them giggle, AUGHHHH 

Also ofc your baby would want to be like her mama as well, so she would play in her kids makeup sets and show her work off to him and when he is over the moon and tells her how pretty she is and how well she did, shes gonna puppy dog eye him into allowing her to do his makeup, so one day you just come home and carmy has a head full of butterfly clips, cherry red lipgloss, and bright blue sparkly eyeshadow as well as pink blush and a tiara on with your daughter in a matching one fallen asleep infront of the tv with tangled playing or some other disney movie omggggg ugh i love him 

Okay guys let me get back in my cage I just had to come out and share my thoughts hahahahaha 

[light-yaers]

tangerine. | part two [carmen berzatto x reader]

Fic Masterpost | AO3

Carmen shows up at your diner after five years, and everything comes flooding back like it was only yesterday.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mature themes [discussions about drugs, workplace abuse, family problems]

Word count: 6k+

PART TWO

You lit your cigarette before the back door even fully shut. You leaned against the wall as you inhaled, and exhaled slowly when you could feel the smoke in your lungs expand. It was a nasty habit, you knew, but it was the only time where you got an ounce of peace at the diner. Two minutes to yourself, not in the cold walk-in, but outside where no one could yell for you, or grab at you, or need you. When you were out here, the chefs and staff alike knew not to bother you. It was just for you. 

Carmen knew that rule well, but that didn’t stop him from following you out the door. He burst through the back door like he was an employee under the diner roof, and found you immediately. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, not wanting anything to start today. 

You inhaled again, and let out the smoke quickly. “You know you’re not allowed back here–”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he boomed. Sydney’s words from before had completely dissipated in his mind.

You turned back to him, eyes wide, utterly gobsmacked. “With me? Are you fucking joking?”

“What, it’s been five years and not even a fucking hello or a how you doing?–”

“Oh, sorry, Carm,” you said sarcastically. You stepped towards him in anger. “I was under the impression you never wanted to fucking see me again, huh? Isn’t that what you said last time at USC, or did I just make that shit up or something?”

Carmen shut his mouth. You both breathed heavily as the silence descended over you, only broken up by him pulling a pack of cigs from his pocket and plucking a stick from the foil. He slotted the cigarette between his lips, and lit it without a word. As he inhaled, he leaned against the wall next to you. You smoked together, not making a sound, as smoke coiled around your heads and disappeared into the air without a trace. 

You flicked ash on the floor. “What are you doing here, Carm?” you asked. 

He sighed, trying to calm himself down. “Getting ideas.”

“Ideas for what?” you asked, and glanced at the side of his face for just a second. He still looked the same, just a bit older. He had more tattoos on his arms, and a stronger jaw, but he was definitely the same Carmen you’d known once. 

“A restaurant. In Chicago.” 

You finally met his eyes, awestruck. He looked down at you to his left, and all the years came flooding back. Behind your eyes, behind the pain and the shit he’d said last time, was someone who still cared about his endeavours. It was almost too much to bear. 

“You found a place?” you asked. 

Carmen nodded. “The Beef. My brother’s old place,” he said, and scratched his head almost painfully. “He, uh… died, and left it to me. We’re doing it up.”

“We?”

“Me and Syd,” he said, and pointed back at the door. Sydney was still inside, at the table alone. “And, uh, Nat and Richie.”

You exhaled a shaking breath, smoke free. Your fingers started to buzz. You were torn between wanting to congratulate him, and wanting to walk away. This was immense for him, and something you knew he’d been wanting from the very beginning. He’d done it, was doing it, but despite all the time you couldn’t help but think– 

Weren’t we supposed to do this together? 

It didn’t matter now. It had been too long and you’d missed each other, passed by, lost the opportunity. Even so, after all this time, would you even want to go back?

You swallowed away all the words that wanted to pour from your mouth. “Wow,” you said, and it sounded stale. “That’s… that’s big.”

“Yeah,” Carm said.

“When do you open?” you asked. You tried to keep things light. 

“Couple of months. We need to open fast. Faster than we wanted to, so, yeah. It’s a lot.” 

As his words fizzled away, you looked at the ground. The air between you felt thick, heavy, with all of the words that you both wanted to say to the other, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Now wasn’t the time to think about what could have been. Maybe, if what happened at USC hadn’t happened, things would have been different. You’d still be friends, have any semblance of a relationship, compared to being almost strangers. 

In fact, you’d pick being strangers with Carm over this. Inside, you still harboured the hurt from those years previous. He’d been so horrible. He’d been so cruel. You wondered if he still remembered all he’d said, or if he had no memory of the way he’d cut you to your core. 

It’d been too long. It didn’t matter. Nothing would change from this. 

“Well.” You sucked in a final pull from your cig, before you flicked it on the ground. You looked him in the eyes as you stood up straight. “Good luck with it all,” you said, before you started towards the door. 

Carm shot up from the wall. “You should come to the opening, in July.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You grabbed the door handle, and Carmen tensed immediately. 

“We’re looking for a front of house manager,” he blurted out. You froze. All the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you clamped your eyes shut. “I don’t know– if you wanted a change, or something new.”

Your fingers hurt from how hard you held onto the door handle. Your knuckles had turned white. Quickly, you inhaled a sharp breath, turning back to him. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Carm realised his mistake as soon as you spoke. “Fuck– I just–”

“No, Carm. Think about it. You think that you can come back here after five fucking years, and offer me this like it’s nothing?” You were seething, you were upset. It only cemented that he didn’t realise how bad he’d hurt you, and if he did, then that was even worse. 

He looked around the back of the building, anywhere but at you, trying to find the right words. “I was shitty, I get that.”

“Do you?” You stepped forward once. “Tell me how shitty you were, Carmen.”

“I was– fuck– I shouldn’t have–” he stumbled over his words. 

“You shouldn’t have treated someone– who only fucking cared about you– like that, is that what you were gonna say?” you said over him, and the look on his face told you everything. You knew Carmen well, and you thought that was why he struggled. You could see right through him, especially back then. “You have a habit of pushing away people that give a shit about you.”

He frowned at you in understanding. “Yeah,” he whispered. 

“I hope you grow out of it one day, and realise your worth,” you said, and felt the familiar sting of tears welling in your eyes. 

“That’s what I’m trying to fucking do,” he said, finding his voice. He took a strong step forward, taking you by surprise. “Come and work at the restaurant. You need to give yourself a fucking chance too, not just other people.”

You scoffed at his change of character. “You’re really flipping it this way?”

“Yeah, I am,” he said plainly. “You’ve been here, what, seven years? You know you’re qualified to work in places ten times the level of the diner–”

“God– fuck you!” you burst, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed and your chest stuttered. “You can’t just come back here after all this time and tell me that you give a shit, that you’re living your dream and you finally want me to be a fucking part of it–”

Carmen cut over you. “So only you’re allowed to say I need to know my fucking worth, huh? I can’t say it back to you?”

“I know my worth!” you exclaimed. Carmen sucked in a breath and shut his mouth after, holding his breath. “I’ve known my worth all along, and sure, maybe I’m too good for this fucking place, but it’s my home.” Carmen’s face softened as the words tipped from your mouth. “What worth would I have if I went back to someone who treated me like shit?”

Carmen placed his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. His shoulders were tense as he hung his head in subtle shame. You knew Carmen. You knew he wasn’t like this, not always, which is what made it even harder to say no. 

“This was our dream,” he said gently. 

“It was your dream, Carm,” you said. He caught your eye strongly.

“You were always part of it.” The breath hitched in your throat. “It was always gonna be you and me–”

“Until it wasn’t,” you said over him. There was a finality to your words that Carmen understood wholeheartedly. He’d been too late, left it too long, for you to drop everything and come back now. 

He inhaled deeply, and let his breath out slowly, surely. “I’m sorry,” he said, hitting your eye. “For all of it. The way I acted. Cutting you all out of my life. I’m trying… not to do that anymore.”

You nodded gently, softening your expression. “I’m happy for you,” you said, and you meant it. “I just can’t do it.”

“Okay,” Carmen said. “Okay,” he repeated, trying to get it all to stick.  

You placed your hand on the door handle, and tugged it open. “It was good to see you,” you said. Maybe it was a lie, or maybe it had been nice to see his face after all these years. You just didn’t know yet. 

Carmen nodded. “You too,” he said. You shut the door behind you as you went inside, leaving him out the back with his half smoked cigarette. 

Sydney was amongst the last customers in the restaurant after lunch, and you sighed as you saw her alone. You strolled towards her table, and started picking up empty plates when you approached. “Nice meal?” you asked. 

“Amazing,” Sydney perked up awkwardly. “You were right. Those tangerines are good.”

You smiled. “They’re my favourite, too,” you revealed. 

Sydney rang her hands on the table. “Um, where’s Carmen?”

You kept your face flat, not wanting to show just how erratically your heart was beating after the entire ordeal. “Having a smoke, out the back. You can head out that way, I’ll clear this all up,” you suggested. 

Sydney got up and nodded. “Thank you. It was really nice to meet you,” she said. When you looked at her face, you could tell she was being genuine. “Carmen knows a lot of people in this industry, and most of the places and people aren’t like this, or, uh– like you. It’s a refreshing change.” She smiled. 

You felt bashful at her words, but ignored the warmth that spread to your cheeks. In that moment, you knew that Carmen had found himself a great partner. You just hoped he wouldn’t fuck it all up for her sake. 

Sydney quickly shuffled in her bag, and brought out her wallet. “How much do we owe you?”

“Oh,” you stuttered, before you shook your head. “On the house. How do they say it? No checks.” 

“Oh, no, I insist–”

“So do I. Didn’t you hear Paulie?” you said, stacking a final plate on your arm, as you balanced the rest with ease. “I’m the big boss around here.” 

Sydney smiled marvellously. Her eyes shone when she did. “Okay, okay,” she said, backing off. “Whatever the big boss says, goes, right?”

“Too right,” you said, as you stood up straight and looked at her face-on. “I… I hope everything with the restaurant goes great.”

Sydney nodded, understanding that Carmen must have told you about it outside. “Yeah, me too. You should come by.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her no, so you simply nodded. You stepped back and headed towards the kitchen, but stopped halfway there. “Good luck, Sydney. You’re gonna need it with him,” you said, gesturing towards the back door. Carmen. 

Sydney scoffed, amused. The way her face dropped softly, and her eyes widened gently, made you feel properly seen. Like you were sharing words through looks alone, and absolutely knew what position the other was in, or had been in. “Uh, if you’re ever in Chicago– don’t be a stranger,” she added awkwardly, but you found it incredibly endearing.

You smiled, before you continued to the kitchen. As you did, you hoped it wouldn’t be like what happened to you, for her. 

It was always like this with Carmen. He somehow always found himself next to people like you and Sydney, strong-willed, capable, caring, but almost always fucked it up in some capacity. He’d done it before with you, and others, and neither you–nor Sydney– wanted it to happen again. Not when their restaurant would be on the line.

You dropped off the plates at the sink, and found yourself looking around the empty kitchen. The chefs were out the back, taking their after-lunch break. Sydney had already left through the door at the back of the restaurant, so they’d no doubt all bump into each other before Carmen fully left. 

Gently, you opened the walk-in and pulled the door closed behind you. You ducked down to the lower shelves, at the back, until you found what you were looking for– tangerines. There was a crate of them, some of them fresher than others, but you liked the ones that were almost over-ripe. You grabbed a couple and held them in your hands, before you headed back to the kitchen. 

Grabbing Paulie’s knife, you sliced them into quarters. The insides were the most neon of oranges. Unlike the peels on big oranges, tangerine peels were thinner. You liked it when the colour of the juice was so vibrant that it got stuck behind your eyelids for a moment. You liked it when you picked up a quarter and it almost fell apart. 

You were reminded of a memory then, of the last time you’d seen Carmen before today. Five years ago, when your reservation at Union Square Cafe had finally arrived, Carmen was in the kitchen just like you’d known he would be. 

You arrived on time, dressed in something fancy and upper-class, just to fit in. It’d been ten months since you’d seen him, since he’d left Lucky Strike Diner, and he’d been far too busy to come by. You didn’t blame him. He was finally doing what he’d meant to, and, just as before, you’d been absolutely right– within five months at USC, Carmen Berzatto won the James Beard award. 

You weren’t at the restaurant to tell him I told you so, but you couldn’t deny that you felt powerful about it. You knew Carmen better than he knew himself. But maybe that was more of a curse, than a blessing. 

The hostess sat you down at your table for one, as the restaurant emitted a gentle lull of mutters and chatter. You’d booked a later reservation, nearer to the end of dinner service, and everything was serene as you perused the menu and chose a wine. A few moments later, a waitress brought over your glass, and you sipped at it gently.

This was nice. You could get used to this. Fine dining, putting on a show of excellence. This was so far removed from the world of the diner that you almost felt like a different person. Someone elegant, someone important. Not that you didn’t feel loved or supported at Lucky Strike, but you knew that standards in a place like Union Square Cafe were above and beyond. That’s how they got their stars, and kept them. 

In the kitchen, Carmen worked on an order. He positioned micro basil and other delicate ingredients on the plates, working with immense precision alongside the rest of the kitchen. When he was done, he let out a strong “Hands!” and within moments all the plates had been picked up and whisked from the kitchen. 

He made his way to the expo, banked a few more tickets, before his eye caught something. He stopped– froze, almost– as his gaze fell over your name on the reservations list. 

“Chef,” he said, turning to his front of house manager, who was responsible for calling out orders, and ensuring everything ran smoothly. “This booking, table thirty two– has she ordered yet?” 

“No, Chef. She was still looking the last time a server went to her table.”

Carmen had a thought, and he was going to put it into motion. “Take her menu away. I’ll be cooking for her tonight. Chef’s pick.”

“Yes, Chef,” the manager said, before she quickly fled the kitchen. 

Carmen took in a breath. “I need two veal, four salmon and one beef!”

“Yes, Chef!” the crew boomed in unison. 

You thought you’d decided. The salmon looked appealing, and as soon as you’d picked it was as if a server came over from being summoned. You turned to her, and smiled. “I’m ready to order,” you said. 

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am,” she said softly, as she gently plucked the menu from your hands. “Chef Berzatto is taking care of it for you.”

Chef Berzatto. 

Hearing Carmy’s name in such a way had you downright giddy. You wondered how he’d known, or if he’d been told, or whatever. You knew that top restaurants had a habit of being attentive to the max, so maybe they’d background checked you. Either way, you were excited. 

“Looking forward to it,” you said, accepting the fate of your meal as being in Carmen’s hands. You simply sat back, swilled your wine, and felt at peace. 

As you waited, you peered around the restaurant. Everything was laid out perfectly, had a system that worked, and every couple and group and business party looked catered for. It was an utterly different vibe than the diner. This was a place for another species, not like the locals you knew by name. You’d always assumed that intense and fanciful restaurants like this lacked character, in a way. They chose excellence over warmth, or stars over honest food, but you’d been wrong. 

Already, despite being on your own, you felt like you belonged. Carmen knew you were here, his servers knew you were here, and you knew why you were here. For him. 

A few parties finished up as you waited for your meal. All the while, you were generously topped up on wine from the servers, and positioned right by the kitchen. You could hear the methodical way they spoke to each other, sometimes, and the whoosh of the door every time someone stepped from within back into the restaurant, and vice versa. 

In the kitchen, Carmen finished up preparing your dish. He’d been transported away as he worked, reminded of you with every garnish that he placed and ru that he drizzled. Whenever he saw the colour orange, he thought of you. It was impossible not to, when he’d cut up an uncountable number of tangerines for you during his time at the diner. As he placed the final piece of your dish, he readied himself to yell for hands, but stopped himself.

Instead, he grabbed your plate and approached his front of house manager. “How are we for time?”

“Fine, Chef. We’re in the after dinner lull, only desserts are left. Table thirty-two is the final main of the evening.”

Carmen nodded. “Right.”

“Do you want to take it to her?” she asked knowingly, and Carmen swallowed. “You know her, don’t you? An old friend?”

“Something like that,” he said, not knowing how to even begin to explain you. An ex-work colleague just sounded wrong, but an old friend sounded wrong, too. You’d been so much more than either of those, and still were. You supported his endeavours, and cared beyond belief. 

The kitchen at USC was vastly different from the atmosphere at Lucky Strike. It was robotic, and static, and everyone had their purpose and place. Carmen’s purpose was that of importance, being chef de cuisine, but his superior– the head chef– was not like Paulie used to be. 

Not in the slightest. 

“I’ll take it,” Carmen finally replied. He placed your plate down and straightened out his chef whites. “How do I look?” he asked her. 

She smiled. “Smart,” she said. That was enough. 

As you sipped the last of your glass of red, you tensed when the door to the kitchen burst open. You turned your gaze towards it, and your heart stuttered in your chest. Walking towards you with the speed of a freight train, chef whites donned and clean, hair slicked back, was Carmy. He powered through the restaurant and gained glances of respect from other guests, triggering a small hubbub of chatter from other tables. 

You relaxed even further into your chair, knowing that you didn’t need to perform. You didn’t need to sit up straight, or lean in, or do anything other than smile at him with as much warmth as you could possibly muster. He’d made it, and this was exactly what you’d wanted to witness– you just hadn’t expected him to leave the seclusion of the kitchen just for you. 

Carmen reached your table, and set down your surprise meal. He gently drifted the plate towards you, and leaned down intimately. 

“Your meal this evening is our classic fillet of salmon, with a twist,” he said. You had to stop yourself from laughing. You felt overwhelmed in the best way. 

“A twist, Chef?” you asked. 

“I took the liberty of adding fresh tangerine juice to the jus.” 

Your eyes sparkled as he revealed all. It was very easy to feel special when you were alone with Carm at the diner before, to understand the gravity of his actions when he got past his shyness and opened up more, but this hit it out of the park. Your chest compressed as your heart lurched. Your lungs spluttered as you sucked in a shaking breath. 

The sides of Carmen’s mouth curled almost imperceptibly, but you knew that look from a mile away. That small smile, that warmth, that affection, that he reserved solely for those people that he knew deserved it. That fact you were here, and everything else from before, was reason enough for you to deserve it. Innately, he felt good when he looked at you this way. It made everything clear, wiped the slate clean, made his crumbling chest settle just that tiny bit more. 

Carmen stood up straight, hands behind his back. “I wanted to mention that there’ll be no checks tonight.”

You finally sat up straight, and immediately went to protest. “I–”

“We insist. I insist,” Carm cut you off softly. 

You looked at the perfectly cooked salmon on the table, the bright orange jus, the drops of red wine on the sides of your glass. “Okay,” you said, peering back up at him. 

“Okay,” he repeated, and his smile grew. 

The cogs whirred in his brain, as he became hyper-aware of the other guests around him. He still had dessert orders to fill, and an entire kitchen to break down and clean. As much as he wanted to stay, to sit opposite you, to throw a kitchen towel at your face when you looked at him so deeply and warmly and lovingly, he simply couldn’t. 

He leaned in once more, so much that your hairs stood on edge as he whispered. “I finish just before midnight,” he whispered gently, before pulling away. “Stay.” He swallowed. “Please.” 

“Okay,” you whispered.

You stayed until the restaurant was empty. The hostess at the front folded napkins in the dim light of the deserted bar, but stopped ever so often to fill up your wine glass. She smiled at you every time she did. 

It was a comfortable silence in the empty restaurant, a silence that you knew very well from being at the diner after hours. Inside the kitchen, you knew Carm would be breaking down after service. Cleaning every single surface in sight, scrubbing the floors until they shined, labelling produce with tape that was cut; not ripped. 

Close to midnight, the kitchen door slammed open once more. Carm had stripped off his chef whites, opting for jeans and an old tee. He spotted you from across the restaurant and smiled smally. “Wanna see?” he asked. 

He held the door open for you as you stepped into the kitchen. The sleekness of it all practically took your breath away. Every surface shone, every plate and bowl and mug glimmered. This was such a step up from the diner, one that you’d been expecting, but seeing it in person was far more incredible.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered under your breath. 

Carmen huffed in amusement. “I know.”

“This is… this is insane.” 

He nodded slowly, coming up to stand beside you as the door swayed on its hinges, before settling shut. “It feels like a dream, somedays,” he said, admiring the workspace with you. “And some days, it doesn’t.” 

“I’m so proud of you, Carm.” You smiled. He smiled back, and for just a moment it was as if no time had passed. It was like you were back in the diner, talking about your dreams together. A place to call your own, and all that jazz. Perhaps, those dreams were still there somewhere.

“I’m not sure I deserve that,” he replied, but not quite jokingly enough for your liking.

You sent him a side-eyed stare and caught the look on his face– fear, or perhaps, damage. When he hit your eyes a second later, that look melted away. All you saw then was warmth. Carmen didn’t often show much on his face, but you could see it all. The years you’d spent alongside him had taught you more than how to run a restaurant; you were one of a handful of people that could seamlessly read Carmen like a book. 

That’s why your gut coiled innately. That look wasn’t one that you’d take lightly. 

“How’s it all going?” you asked. 

He let out another huff and shrugged his shoulders, before opting to move away and roam the clean kitchen. “I can’t complain.” He swiped his hand across the stainless steel workbench. 

“And that chef, David or whatever his name is, how is he?”

Carmen froze for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make your hairs stand on end. His arms tensed, until you saw the strength within his veins rise to the surface. He looked up at you sternly, clenching his jaw. “He’s an excellent chef.” 

“Okay,” you said. “That’s great. What about how he manages this place, manages you?”

“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” Carmen let out defensively.

It only cemented that you knew something was wrong. 

“Okay– I’ll pretend you didn’t just snap at me for being interested,” you let out belligerently. “What the hell is it, Carm?”

“Drop it,” he said sternly, moving away from you and over to the enormous shelves of shimmering white plates. “I got a James Beard award, didn’t I? I got everything I fucking wanted here, so just drop it.”

“Listen,” you started, fast walking your way around the central island and closer to him. “I get it, I’m not part of this world– your world– anymore. But I still know a thing or two about chefs and their giant fucking egos. What’s going on?”

Carmen closed his eyes and let out a subtly shaking breath. You were taken aback by this whole conversation, the drastic shift in his mood as soon you’d started asking questions. 

“Carm,” you said softly, dialling things down a little. “Just look at me for a second.” 

His shoulders relaxed, dipping into more of a tired hunch than his previous disposition of a deer in headlights. When his eyes hit yours, your heart lurched in your chest. Those eyes, god– the blue was etched in the corners of your brain. Like a clear sky in summer, or a glittering pool, or a calm ocean. Carmen was many things, but clear, glittering and calm were not traits that most people would pin onto him. 

Not you, though. This was the Carm that dreamt with you. This was the Carm that cut up tangerines into quarters for you whenever you asked, or even when you didn’t. Blue and orange, swirling together like the patterns on peppermint hard-candy or gingham squares on the Lucky Strike tablecloths. Ingrained. Permanent. 

“He’s taught me a lot,” Carmen whispered. 

You knew it wasn’t your place, but red flags popped up in your mind and billowed in the breeze immediately. He looked stripped back, a shell of himself, just for those fleeting seconds, and you fucking hated it. 

“You’ve been here for almost a year,” you said, swallowing away the butterflies that had started crawling up your throat. “Maybe now is a good shot to find something else.” 

Carm’s eyes widened brightly, and you saw all his plans from before; his restaurant, his staff, his food and the like. And then, as if a gust of wind uprooted the largest tree within his mind, that was gone. Replaced by something seething, something angry and not at all kind, Carmen rose. 

“You’re telling me to quit?” 

You took a small step back. “Of course, I’m not–”

“No, no, you fucking are.” He bit down on his tongue, you heard it. “You think being here for a few hours and one meal is enough for you to tell me what the fuck to do?”

“Carmen, what are you talking ab–”

“Fuck!” His shoulders squared off, and suddenly he was a corrugated iron board before you. Immovable, stuck in place. “You came here to tell me I’m strong enough, right? What, you want me to go back to the diner with Paulie and everyone else who’s never had a real fucking goal in their lives?”

“Wow,” you breathed out, laughing a little as a lack of what else to respond. 

You stood your ground, as much as you wanted to scream and yell like a petulant child. The look on his face, the brick wall he’d built so high around himself, was something you’d seen before– self-sabotage, tugging away from everything and everyone that was there to help. A level of acceptance and denial alike was testament alongside situations such as this; abusive situations. 

This Chef David was abusing the shit out of him. And Carmen was deep, way down to the core of it, just trying to get through his days, shift by shift, in any way possible. Even if that meant cutting off those dreams, cutting off people from his past– you. 

“You really think I’d do that?” you said bluntly. “You really think I booked this solo reservation a fucking year ago because I wanted to come and drag you back to the diner?”

Carm’s eyes brightened momentarily. “A year ago?”

You took another step back, careful not to immediately fall into him from the childish bewilderment on his face. It was like he’d never had someone care, but you knew that wasn’t true. He just didn’t know how to spot when someone did, misconstrued it as someone trying to harm him, hurt him, ruin him. 

“I booked to come here a year ago, Carmen,” you started. “I fucking knew you’d make it here. I knew that when I came today, you’d be the one cooking my damn meal. I was fucking right.”

It was his turn to take a step back now, just a little. Perhaps he was overwhelmed because he wasn’t expecting this. Wasn’t expecting you to still stay supporting him after he left, or didn’t even want to think about what the guys at the diner might be saying about him after he’d gone. Little did he know, everyone still talked about him with smiles and bright eyes. 

Carmen Berzatto was the only motherfucker out there that didn’t know people supported him wholeheartedly. 

“I’m not telling you to leave, or quit, or whatever else you fucking think I was about to say,” you began again. Carm swallowed nervously. “You can think what the hell you want to think about us at Lucky Strike, but we’re still the same people we’ve always been. I guess that can’t be said about you now, huh?”

Carmen’s anxiety turned to anger in a heartbeat. “What, ‘cause I actually made a name for myself instead of you all staying in the fucking box you planted yourselves in years ago? If that’s why I’ve changed, then I’m fucking glad about it.”

“Fuck– there you go again!” you exclaimed. “You’re talking down to us like we’re pieces of fucking shit on your brand-spanking new shoes!” 

“And you’re looking at me with those fucking baby-eyes like I’m gonna crumble any fucking second!” Carmen screamed. “I can’t fucking stand it.”

You placed your hands on your hips and held your ground again. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” 

Carmen saw red immediately. “If you bring up Chef David one more fucking time, then I’m done.”

“You’re done? Huh, what the hell does that mean?”

“Done with you.” 

Your eyes widened. Bile started to crawl up your oesophagus. In that moment, you’d never felt more like your mother. You knew if you were to talk, you’d adopt her stern accent instantly. You popped your hip out and bent your knee, tired of fucking standing. 

“So, you made it to the big leagues, and now you’re throwing out all your trash. Is that what it is, huh?” You stepped forward once. Carmen stayed where he was. “Look at me right here, Carm.” You pointed to your eyes, not wavering once. “Look at me right here and tell me that you hate me. Do it right now. If you do it right now then I’ll know you fucking mean it. If you do it right now then me, and Paulie, and everyone from the fucking diner will call it quits with you like that.” You snapped your fingers on that. It cemented that you meant it. 

Carmen raised his chin, so close that your noses almost touched. In any other circumstance, maybe you’d have kissed him by now. Maybe you’d have realised that you both liked each other as more, loved each other once, still fucking did. 

But, that wasn’t this reality. 

When he didn’t say anything, you knew you’d won. He stayed as still as he could as adrenaline rushed through his blood. His fingers shook at the end of his arms. His chest thumped incessantly as oxygen tried to tear through his lungs. 

“No?” you asked, almost as a final warning. 

Carm breathed in. “I hate what you represent.”

“And what exactly is it that I represent?” you whispered. 

Suddenly, Carmen dropped his forehead on yours. His hands deposited themselves on either side of your neck warmly, gently. His fingertips set your skin alight. “The one thing I can never fucking have.” 

As much as you wanted tell him to get the fuck off, to stop touching you, your heart melted as soon as your skin felt his. You clamped your eyes shut, leaning into him. Carm let out a pent up breath. His breath was warm as it skimmed your skin. 

“Carmen.” You swallowed. “Please.” You paused. “I– love you,” you stuttered. 

“I know,” he replied. “I know you do.” 

For just a second, you thought he was going to kiss you. It’d be easy to drop his lips onto yours, you were right in front of him. Heads touching, breath mingling, sharing each other’s air like it was the most normal fucking thing to do. 

You wanted him back, it was true. But not like this. Not broken, or bruised, or damaged beyond repair. It wasn’t his fault, you knew that. He’d been moulded this way. But, it was his responsibility to do good for himself. One deep dive into this entire conversation and you knew that it was impossible for him to do that, at least right now. Carmen Berzatto was stuck, and you didn’t want to get yourself stuck in the process of trying to free him. 

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Leave,” was all he said. 

You shook your head slowly, tears welling behind your eyes. “Don’t push me away.”

“Leave,” he repeated, as his hands dropped from your neck to your shoulders. Gently, he started physically pushing you off him. 

“Carmen,” you spluttered. Your eyes opened to see him in pain. God, you fucking hated it. “I won’t come back if you do this. I really fucking won’t.”

He stepped back once, twice, three times. Eyes glued on yours, blue and glassy like a glacier, his heart as cold as one, too. “Good,” he said softly, headed for the door to the kitchen.

“You don’t mean that.” You urged him to stay. 

He only nodded. “I never want to fucking see you again.” 

Carmen left unceremoniously, without another word or glance or care. The kitchen door swung shut, bobbing on its hinges. The only sound you could hear was the buzzing of the refrigerators, and the breaking of your heart strings. 

PART THREE

[daysofyellowroses]

chocolate

carmen berzatto x reader | 2.8k | 99% pure fluff nonsense | tw: pregnancy, very much implied smut, language

Being pregnant is stressful, a lot of the time. It's a natural feeling, it's not easy growing a literal human in your body.

However, you had thought that because you'd done the whole pregnancy/labor thing before, the second time around would be a breeze.

Honestly you didn't know what you were thinking, if anything the second time was even more stressful, mainly due to circumstances beyond your control.

Funnily enough, the second time was actually planned, well..in a way it was.

But to get to the second time, there has to be a first time, and that first time was..a lot. Certainly not planned. Not unwanted, but not planned. Kind of like your relationship.

You'd known Carmy for a long time, longer than you could really remember. He was just someone you knew, not necessarily a friend but not a stranger. Just someone who drifted in the same orbit as you.

It was only when he took over at the Beef that you got to know him properly. You had been working there for almost two years at that point, mainly working the counter with Richie, developing a sibling-like relationship with him. It wasn't the best job in the world, and you often felt yourself looking out the window and wondering if there was something more out there or if the grass was greener on the other side.

Then Carmy came back into your orbit, and at first it was curiosity that kept you there, wondering what he would do with the place. You didn't speak to him more or less than anyone else, but it was pretty basic chat or professional, depending.

Syd always says she saw a spark right away, and you like to believe it. You had always thought he was cute, and seeing him in his element, doing his thing..it did make him more attractive.

You weren't sure how a relationship even developed, there were always other people around, you didn't exactly flirt, and you weren't openly advertising your single status. But..things happen for a reason, right?

One night, you had to take a call after work, when you came back inside everyone but Carmy had left. You had offered to help him finish cleaning, he had insisted you didn't need to, but you could if you wanted.

Taking it as an invitation, you rolled up your sleeves and grabbed a sponge. God only knows what you had talked about, if you had talked at all, but you enjoyed his company. After that, it became common practice that you would stay after work to help clean. More and more you would sit on a counter and tell Carmy stories from your past while he cleaned, or as you later realized, pretended to keep cleaning if he finished before your story ended.

It took a while before you could get Carmy to tell you stories, he wasn't one to brag about himself or his accomplishments. Still, you managed to get the stories out of him slowly, and found yourself increasingly attracted to him. You noticed he didn't mention much about his family or friends, and you didn't push the matter.

Then, one night he mentioned Mikey in a story, then stopped himself like he'd said something wrong. You had encouraged him to keep talking, sharing some of your own memories of Mikey. He laughed when you told one story, and you desperately wanted to kiss him.

It took another two weeks before you finally plucked up the courage, figuring the worst thing that could happen was he wouldn't kiss you back, you would hand in your notice and forget the whole ordeal.

But it turned out your attraction was not one sided, as you found yourself pressed up against the fridge with Carmy's hands holding your arms up above your head as he gave you a kiss you still feel when you think about it.

After that, you tried to keep things on the down low, which lasted for approximately two days, when Richie walked in on you sitting on Carmy's desk, legs wrapped around the chef's waist as you made out like teenagers. It was a new record for gossip spreading, and despite some initial teasing everyone was happy for you both.

It wasn't the smoothest of sailing in the early weeks, or months, when the renovations started. Everyone was stressed, particularly Carmy and Syd. You understood that the weight was on their shoulders, and did what you could to be a support. If some of that support included being a taster for the chefs new dishes, that was just a bonus.

There were, of course, other ways you could relieve some of Carmy's stress. It makes you laugh now that you were trying to take away stress and pressure and gave yourselves even more, because of course you did.

It wasn't like you were going at it constantly, you were both often exhausted or crabby or fed up which didn't create the best atmosphere but when you were both in the mood..it was the best sex of your relationship, it could be in the car, against a half built wall in the restaurant, or occasionally, actually in your own bed.

You liked to think that was where your daughter was conceived, in her parents bed and not in the bathroom stall of some dingy bar (the beer was supposed to be the thing that blew off steam, but when you'd been washing your hands in the bathroom and spotted Carm in the mirror standing behind you with a slight smirk you'd pulled him into a stall and that was that)

It was inevitable really, with the stress of the restaurant making you forget to do basic shit like taking your contraception, and a partner constantly on the verge of a heart/panic attack at any moment wasn't exactly great at remembering to remind you.

So, after a couple of mornings of being unable to get out of bed from feeling so violently sick, you gave in and went to the doctor. It shouldn't have been a shock, but it was. It was something that you had thought about occasionally, had casually discussed with Carmy, but in a kind of ‘in the future, maybe’ way.

You didn't tell him right away. The restaurant was about to open, that needed to be properly celebrated. When the opening night finally came, it turned out to be exactly the right time.

Carmy getting locked in the walk-in had not been what you'd expected, but you just had to laugh at how absurd it was. When you were driving home, your head on his shoulder and his hand on your thigh, you told him. It came out before you could stop yourself, hanging in the air for a moment.

“You're serious?”

Not the response you'd expected.

“Of course I'm serious.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the ride home was in silence, one that felt suffocating.

When you woke up the next morning, it was to Carmy's hand on your stomach.

“We're gonna be parents. Like..there's gonna be a kid running around and it's going to be ours.”

“Yeah,” You'd nodded, placing your hand on his and meeting his eyes. “Pretty fucking terrifying, right?”

“Absolutely.”

He'd broken into a grin after a moment, and you felt a relief flood you.

That all seems so long ago now.

Your daughter, Gracie Natalie Berzatto, was already three, you couldn't believe it when you were picking out her birthday card. Her current obsession was Bluey, which had become a bit of an obsession for you and Carm too, it was so weirdly relaxing. Sometimes the two of you watched episodes after work, someone's head in the other's lap.

Sometimes it hit you, like standing in the supermarket with ten million different Bluey birthday cards in front of you and just trying to find one with a ��3’ on it, that you had come so far from sitting in the car in suffocating silence.

From the moment she was born, Gracie and Carmy were inseparable. He was a natural at being a father, even if he always worried he was doing it wrong.

You always brought her to the restaurant after kindergarten when Carm had had a panic about forgetting the fruit in her lunch or not being able to plait her hair. Everyone doted on her, she would be glued to Tina’s hip while Richie made her laugh and Marcus got a special donut just for her.

You would have a coffee with Syd and watch hope Carmy could see what really mattered.

It was at, well..after Gracie’s 3rd birthday party that the whole thing would be set in motion again. The day had been amazing, much to your relief. Of course, the food was incredible, and you had cried when Marcus showed you the birthday cake, a perfect replica of Bluey in cake form. Of course, there were too many presents, but you were touched that people made such a fuss. When Jimmy had turned up with the biggest Barbie dream house you'd ever seen, you'd told him it was his fault if Gracie turned into a spoilt brat, giving him a tight hug.

When it was all over, and it was you and Carm laying on the couch surrounded by wrapping paper, crinkled paper plates and half full trash bags, you had felt a surge of love in your chest.

“We're alright at this, right?”

“Yeah, we're alright.”

You had turned to rest your head on his chest, looking up at him and knowing you couldn't imagine a better life. You didn't know what he was thinking, you never could read his mind. Whatever was in that bear cave, it caused him to smile and slowly tilt your head up for a kiss.

At first it was just a comfortable, lazy makeout session, hands slowly wandering. Then at some point it was like an unspoken question. You were taking a break from your current pill, looking into new options. There were condoms upstairs in the nightstand but neither of you went to get them.

So it wasn't a shock to discover it was round two.

Gracie seemed to understand what was happening when you explained it to her, excited that she would have her own Bingo to play with.

The pregnancy itself was relatively smooth, it had been much harder with Gracie. But then, labor with her has been weirdly smooth. Uncomfortable as hell but then they gave you the good stuff and next thing you knew there was a baby being placed in your arms.

It was the opposite with the second labor. You should have known, the pregnancy had been too smooth sailing. It was all planned, you had your due date, your hospital bag, an amazing midwife, it would be done properly.

Ah, the days when you still believed, even after having already had a baby, that labor could be perfect.

God bless delusion.

It was a week before your due date that everything went to shit.

Carmy had gone to sort out something or other for the restaurant, now that you were on maternity leave you had blocked out restaurant chat unless you were actually in the restaurant to see the staff/stuff your face. You had dropped by the Bear for a catch up, Gracie was at your mom's house and you were just having some time to yourself. It was a couple of hours before opening, a time you always enjoyed.

You were chatting to Syd and snacking on some carrot sticks she was cutting and sliding over to you when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach, brushing it off.

When it happened again, your stomach dropped as you looked down to the floor, a clear puddle pooling around your feet.

“That's..that's not hygienic,” Syd muttered, her eyes going wide as she looked back up at you. “Wait, shit, is this happening now?!”

You went to reply, letting out a groan as a contraction hit you, grabbing the side of the bench.

“Okay, we can do this,” Syd took your arm and led you into the office, helping you into the chair. “We can totally do this, we can do this.”

You took some deep breaths, gripping the arm of the chair. From outside you could hear Richie shouting something before he let out a yell.

“Fuck! I slipped in fucking piss!”

There was a burst of laughter and you gripped the chair harder, looking up and watching Syd pace back and forth, one hand on her forehead, the other on her waist.

“Richie, get in here!” You called, trying to stand up and being unable to. “Anyone, get in here, please!”

A moment later, Tina and a disgruntled Richie appeared at the door.

“Okay,” You breathed, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Can one of you help Syd calm down, and one of you..fuck!” You clutched your stomach, leaning forward. Tina rushed over to you, while Richie patted Syd on the back.

“Someone call Carm, please,” You muttered, taking Tina's hand. “And maybe an ambulance.”

There was a flurry of activity, and you found yourself alone in the office, wanting to cry.

“Hey, have you seen..”

You looked up as you heard Fak’s voice, wanting to cry with relief as he walked into the office with a confused look.

“Why does it smell like piss in here?”

Because life is ridiculous, it decided to conspire against you on that day. Richie couldn't get through to Carmy, the ambulance was going to be delayed because of a major collision, and your baby was starting to crown on the floor in the office in the fucking Bear.

You had managed to maneuver your way onto the floor with Fak's help, his panicked ramblings feeling oddly comforting. Syd had managed to calm down and came to hold your hand. Between her and Fak rambling about how everything was going to be fine, you wanted to believe.

Outside the office seemed to be just as chaotic, thanks to Richie leaving endless panicked voicemails for Carm, Tina yelling orders at everyone, and your broken waters just lingering on the floor.

“Okay,” Richie appeared in the doorway. “Cousin is either dead or his phone is, still no ambulance, and my suit is ruined.”

“Big picture, Richie,” Sydney gestured to you. “I don't think we have time for an ambulance..”

“How do you know? Did you..look?” Richie asked.

“Of course not,” Sydney frowned. “But..I presume. You've got a kid, you look.”

“I'm not looking, she's family,” Richie protested. “Tina, come check if the baby's coming out!”

“Oh my god,” You cried. “Will someone please just put their head between my fucking legs?”

There was a silence for a moment before laughter filled the air, yours included. It felt like everything would be okay in that moment, even when it was all going to shit.

Tina checked, and confirmed that it wasn't coming out, but it was close.

Closer than expected, it wasn't long after you were screaming and probably breaking Syd and Fak’s hands. By some stroke of luck, Carm got back to the restaurant just as your baby was coming out, which was a lot to process.

You didn't actually know who wrapped the baby in a towel and handed him to you but you didn't care, he was out.

You got the hospital eventually, everything was a blur once you had a baby in your arms. Vague memories of people coming in and out of the room, fussing over you and the baby.

The clearest memory is Carm bringing Gracie in to meet her brother. She didn't say much, just watched him with fascination. Carm asked her if the baby should be named Bingo, tickling her.

She laughed and shook her head, and you felt another surge of deep love.

When the time did come to sign the birth certificate, you put the suggestion out there, gently, to name your son after his uncle. You could tell Carm was touched but it felt too raw.

So you consulted the head of the family for her opinion, and Mackenzie Michael Berzatto it was.

“I can't believe you gave birth in the restaurant,” Carmen murmured softly, laying beside you on the bed, Gracie asleep on his chest, Mackenzie asleep on yours. “On the floor. Dirty hippy.”

“I can't believe you basically missed the birth of your first son. Call yourself Italian do you?”

“Did cousin really slip on your piss?”

“It was not piss,” You rolled your eyes with a grin, gently stroking Mackensie's head. “It was amniotic fluid.”

“Oh,” Carmen nodded. “Why..why does that sound more gross?”

“Because scientific terms are gross,” You yawned, leaning back on the pillow and looking over to Carmy. “I really love you, Carm.”

“I know,” Carmy nodded, looking over to you with a smile. “I really love you too. You've given me all this.”

“You helped, a little,” You smiled, sitting up a little and letting out a content sign when he leaned in to give you a kiss, pulling back with a smile.

“Now what?”

“Now..we don't fuck it up.”

“Yes chef.”

—

a couple of notes I had in my mind while writing this but didn't actually put into the story:

- Gracie is actually called Grace, but she will forever and always be called Gracie

- She also has everyone wrapped around her little finger

- Eva is basically her big sister

- Sugar was incredibly moved by the choice of middle name, insisted you didn't have to but loved it

- Syd and Tina are Gracie's godmothers. Tina had cried when you asked, Syd wasn't sure at first like..what does a godmother even do? But she loves it. Neither you or Carm are super religious but it just felt like a nice thing to do. Richie and Fak were chosen as godfathers. Yes, they were insufferable

- Sugar cried when you told her Mackensie's middle name, you told her it was Carm's choice, which you knew it was

- You're still working on who Mackensie's godparents should be, Richie and Fak are already fighting about being the only godfather. You and Carmy are leaning towards Marcus and Pete.

[garlicisgodsbestinvention]

Family Style

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x AFAB Reader

Warnings: none? some angst? syd and carmy having a spat in the middle of dinner service, what's new

Word Count: 600 something, it's a little guy I'm new here

Syd is yelling at him. 

She’s absolutely fucking shouting at him and he deserves it because he shouted first, but Richie is yelling something too and Carmy isn’t entirely sure who he’s supposed to be listening to—

“Carmen.” 

He hears his name over and over again, like an alarm he forgot to turn off, half-asleep as it just goes and goes—but his mouth is still going, shaping some words he probably doesn’t even mean but Sydney’s volume is matching his and that’s just second nature, to reach that level—

“Carmen Berzatto,” a finger snapping in his face, the sight of you coming into focus when he finally looks up from the paper in front of him, Sydney still screaming from your other side. 

“Honestly, like why the fuck even speak if you’re just not going to listen—“ Syd is saying, and Carmy just—

“Sydney! Carmen! Shut the fuck up, chefs!” You shout, and the whole kitchen just…quiets. 

Silence. 

Chopping stops; everyone stops moving. Even Richie is looking at you with raised eyebrows. 

Not once have you raised your voice in this kitchen. Not once. 

Even though, admittedly—childishly—he might have been trying to provoke you into it once or twice, just to see if eventually you’d crack. He’s such a fucking asshole for that and he knows it, they all know it, but it never happened. Your voice has always been perfectly even, perfectly controlled. 

Maybe that’s what he hates about you. 

He hated it from the moment Sydney brought you in, that control. He has none of that and it comes to you so effortlessly; the careful choice of words and the one-two punch of the right thing to say that hits him so hard in the gut when he’s so used to everything being the wrong thing. 

“That’s enough.” You snap, so loud that Richie jumps in the already-quiet of the kitchen. “Chefs, fire two t-bones, two cannoli, three bone broths, and one foccacia. Now.” 

There’s a chorus of yes, chef, that rings through the kitchen as everyone moves to action, and Carmy and Syd are just left standing there with you so deliberately between them. Carmy’s chest feels tight. 

“We’re not going to do that, ever again,” you snap at them, and Carmy feels—well, he feels a little bit like he’s just been scolded by a teacher. Syd has a look on her face that tells him she feels the same. 

“New rule,” you start to say, as the two of them stand there like children, heads hung. “Every night, we’re going to have a debrief. None of us will leave this restaurant until we’ve hashed out what has gone wrong and what we can do better. We are not going to bring what happened yesterday back into this fucking kitchen. I don’t care if I have to chain you both to the goddamn bar and keep you there until three in the morning. We are never, ever going to do this again. Am I clear?” 

You look between them and Syd is the first to nod vigorously, an apologetic look on her face and a fist closed over her heart. 

“Heard, chef,” Syd says, nodding. 

Then you and Syd are looking at him expectantly, and he’s just so—hot. The kitchen feels suddenly really warm when you’ve got that look in your eye, and some threat about being tied to something is swimming around in his head. You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow, waiting. 

“Heard,” he whispers, unable to get the word to come out any louder, fist on his chest in response to Sydney. “Heard.” 

The rest of service, they’re on their very best behavior, even if Carmen’s heart beats way too hard every time you look his way. 

[alwaysshipping1]

The Bear S4 wishlist

Sydney rediscovering her passion and joy for cooking

Syd is my girl, and she deserves a win! It was heartbreaking to see hopelessness slowly take hold of her in S3. She gives so much to everyone around her. She has a hard time relying on others, but we saw her try in S2. Will she ever get to receive good things in return?

More focus on Syd’s character. A Syd-centric episode!

Let’s dive deeper into her story. A tattoo reveal? Yes, please! Someone calling her out on how guarded she is? Absolutely! Just give me more Syd, period!

Carmy to fight for Syd to stay!

Show her you care with actions! Words are pretty but meaningless when empty promises follow.

Carmy finding his joy in cooking with someone again—specifically Sydney, ofc!

Carmy has a lot of personal work to do before that can truly happen. But in S1, we saw how much he enjoyed cooking with Mikey. I can’t fathom Carmy stepping away from cooking altogether.

No Claire-Carmy endgame

There are so many red flags in this relationship. A reconciliation would feel reductive to Carmy’s narrative arc. With all the Donna-Claire parallels many have written about, it just wouldn’t be believable to me.

A paupiette of Hamachi discussion!

I refuse to believe the writers inserted that beautiful, meaningful moment just to completely ignore its significance. I NEED a scene where Sydcarmy revisit this!

Sydcarmy in any way, shape or form

If S4 is the last, I’d obviously prefer full-blown Sydcarmy, but I’m not categorically opposed to a subtle ending—the suggestion that they’ll find each other in the future (even though it’s not my preference and I’d side-eye the writers big time). Perhaps Sydcarmy taking space before finding each other and coming together for real. Imagine Syd being the CDC or the EC of her own restaurant in a foreign country (say Japan, Sydcarmy shippers know!), years down the line, and Carmy surprising her. A simple yet powerful moment: hands grazing, shoulders brushing, eyes sparkling with THAT stare, the heavily implied suggestion of something more. No more boss/employee dynamic, just equals.

A redo on the SydCarmy food tour that never happened!

I have hope the writers will circle back to it, but I’m still pissed about this missed opportunity.

Leaning into found family theme

S3 had so many characters feeling stuck. A recurring theme in the show is found family. Let’s lean into that! Develop it properly. What grows together goes together, right?

Less Faks and less Claire, please!

Carmy, apologize to the woman who told you to never apologize. Get it over with and move on. Close that chapter of your life. The next one is glorious!

[chefkids]

I love your meta!!! It’s amazing that you’re still able to identify and connect new things that the rest of us overlooked. Do you have any predictions for next season? Not just with SydCarmy but also any thoughts about where the show may take us

Thank you!

I think a big focus of next season is going to be on their lives intertwining and their families coming together. Season 3 ended with Richie, Nat, Carmy, and Sydney all coming together to open the restaurant and including her in their core group like family. And like Ayo and everyone in the show has said, this is all about chosen family and real family. But I also think a lot of bad shit is going to happen, especially at the very start of the season.

After Carmy practically begging to meet Sydney's dad, I do think Emmanuel and Carmy will finally meet. I do not think he is going to like Carmy at the start. He is very sceptical of their whole arrangement, he knows Sydney quit for a minute and might have heard Sydney talk shit about him. And if he ever finds out what went down on opening night, I don't think he'll be too happy with Carmy. But I do think they will eventually bond and get to know each other, I think including that Sydney's dad was sober from alcohol is going to be a big conversation for them.

I think they were alluding for Natalie having some sort of complication maybe preeclampsia with her shoulder pain. I think she's going to give birth sooner rather than later. Natalie giving birth is going to bring Donna back and is what is going to get Carmy and his mother to finally see each other again after seemingly years apart.

I also think Donna and Sydney will meet. I think Natalie and Sydney are both going to try to get Carmy to at least try to give his mother a chance because they are both much more optimistic and forgiving people than him. I think it's going to cause a lot of tension between all of them because Carmy doesn't want Sydney seeing that side of his family.

Sydney's share/ownership of the restaurant comes back into question. I also think Carmy getting more credit/recognition than her in reviews or press will bother her. I think she will basically say that this place is not really hers. Someone tries to poach Sydney, Carmy freaks out. Sydney starts to consider if it is worth staying if another good opportunity comes along.

Marcus' mom is dead and gone. RIP to that lady. I think grief and how they all deal with it differently will be a big theme. Carmy ignored his grief for a long time and tried to use work to fix things. Sydney and her dad still keep her mom's memory alive but she still struggles with letting others know about her grief. I think Marcus will be letting others help him and be there for him and Sydney will be there for him. I think this will bring back things Carmy about his own grief and how he's still dealing with it.

Luca returns to fill in for him for a bit and emotional support for Marcus. Which I think will also bring us to see Competitive Carmy in full force as goes into Michelin Mode, for Syd's sake. No amusement or enjoyment. I also think this will kinda turn the crew against Carmy as they'll prefer Sydney, they kind of already do. Especially considering she was more involved in training them and in the build than he was. Plus she's just nicer than him.

Sydney will overwork herself and burn out, she won't trust Carmy on his own and will inevitably put a lot of pressure on herself. She's not going to want to quit or stop but Carmy and her Dad will be pressuring her to slow down because she's making herself sick. I think a large focus of Season 3 will be on their energy. In Season 1 it was all about the pressure of money, Season 2 about time pressure, and now they need to find the energy to keep going because they need to make back money in a set time frame. The focus on energy and their internal dynamics between them, rather than external issues like things in restaurant being broken.

Jealous Carmy. When he realizes Marcus likes Syd more than a friend, he's going to view everyone as competition and a threat, even though he's still to scared to do anything about it. I think Sydney will grow closer to Marcus and Richie and maybe even Luca or new guy Connor, not in any romantic way, but it is going to bother Carmy a lot that she never spends any time with him and that they know her outside of work but he doesn't.

Menu overhaul is inevitable, aside from Marcus dishes, most of the menu is not that remarkable and they really need to pull out new interesting ideas if they want a star. I'm sure we will see a lot more of Syd and Carmy actually testing recipes together. Carmy is just not as creative as Sydney when it comes to food, he struggled with the chaos menu. Mostly as Carmy's way to force proximity with Syd when she doesn't want to be around him.

I'm also still rooting for the return of the short rib risotto and the missing acid chaos ingredient. They have to bring it back.

Tina and/or Richie straight up comment on Sydcarmy. I think Tina knows and suspects a lot more than she lets on. She is very observant and protective over Sydney. She's overheard and seen a lot of what has been going down between them. She's going to put Carmy in his place and scare him a little on Sydney's behalf.

Richie on a similar note is going to put 2 and 2 together on what Carmy is feeling and basically tell him to stay away from Sydney because he doesn't want a Claire 2.0 to happen to her and he probably feels like Carmy does not even deserve Sydney in any way and he would just fuck things up for everyone at the restaurant.

Natalie finally says something to him and that's what finally gets him to do something and stop bottling everything in. She never commented on his relationship to anyone except Sydney, and that was more so to get her in the loop and protect her, because she knew Carmy was leading her on while seeing Claire and not telling her. She's going to subtly or not so subtly ask him wtf he is doing. I also think Jimmy fully thought Sydney was his girlfriend.

Fire Suppression System will tested for real with an actual fire. I have a lil theory that Sydney is going to be the one to accidentally start a fire next season. The fire suppression test was all a metaphor for Syd and Carmy suppressing their feelings and the spark/fire that they have. At the end of season 1 Carmy started a grease fire after Sydney quit, because he couldn't suppress his sadness and feelings for her. In season 2 they passed the fire suppression and Carmy decided to declare Claire his girlfriend. They managed to contain their feelings, but eventually they still came out with Carmy and his panic attack. But now I'm sure Sydney is going to be the one trying to suppress feelings because of how everything went down, and I think it will just blow up in her face literally and metaphorically. They spent so much time explaining the fire suppression system and the electrical wiring and the amperage of it all, that I think it's going to come into play again.

Carmy uses Sydney for emotional support without her realizing. When he texted her because he needed her comfort and forgiveness before opening Mikey's note, she didn't know that was what was happening. When he had panic attack and thought of her to calm down he used her for comfort, but she doesn't know all that. I think he's going to tell her or show her that she is his comfort person. I also think we will also see Sydney eventually reach for him for support and comfort as well.

Sydney's catering days and UPS flashback. Please I am begging. We need more of her lore. I think next season will be a lot of seeing her as more independent and being the boss, we only just started to see her at her peak performance in the last episode. I think we'll see more of her evolution, and also her flighty nature. She went from restaurant to restaurant. I think the idea of her leaving The Bear will hang around all season, but she won't leave.

Claire apology then goodbye within the same episode. Sorry to that girl. I think Carmy was already planning to breakup with her after he had the panic attack and the talk with Uncle Jimmy, which is why he freaked out when after he saw her at dinner. I don't think there would be much place for her unless they throw her into some hospital scenes with maybe Nat or Sydney being sick. I think her work here is done. I think she might make other appearances with the Faks. They are close family friends. Maybe she's friends with the elusive Francie Fak that everyone is dying to know what happened between her and Nat.

I think Richie will try to work elsewhere for a bit. He wants to prove that he doesn't need Carmy and that he can succeed without him. I think he'll come back when Sydney asks him to. The situation with him and Tiff feels very 50/50 to me. On the one hand I think it could be him learning to move on from his ex, on the other hand I think Chris and Joanna are all about second chances and I could see Tiff seeing Richie change and wanting to give things another chance.

I also think there's opportunity to see another city like we did with Copenhagen. I'm still rooting for Carmy to take Syd to Noma before it shuts down. I could also see a New York flashback episode with Carmy working at Eleven Madison and Sydney going on her NYC food tour and their whole invisible string coming together.

Not in this season, but The Bear Cookbook will happen. Trust.

And The Psychedelic Musical Episode. A girl can dream. But I do think we'll get another karaoke scene, maybe with the whole crew going out after a shift and just letting loose for once.

[moneymartin]

PLEASE PLEASE do a kate martin fic where the reader is her ex and they cannot stay away from each other. like “uh oh” by tate mcrae PLEASE

・❥・- favorite bad decision

summary: you see kate at a practice after the two of you split

warnings: nfsw mdni. 18+ as fawk! but the smut is kinda short sozzzz

rpf. don’t read it if you don’t feel comfortable

a/n: i’m negl all my kate fics are fluffy cause i cannot see myself writing smut. (but i try to deliver so this sucks cuz i got a lil uncomfy) 😭 also i’m sorry for lacking on my writing im so stressed w all these exams im taking and some family problems. this also might go off track cause i wrote this half asleep 😕 didn’t know how to end this one too

stars are the skips :)

it’s been 5 months. 5 stupid months since that relationship you refused to let go ended. you couldn’t believe it either when your girlfriend suddenly said “we need to breakup.”. she never told you why, despite the multiple calls and texts you sent when she left the morning after that were begging for her to come back or at least explain why she felt that way.

you felt like absolute shit.

it was a long relationship, your longest one too. it was the fact you believed it would last forever. you wished for it to last when you saw those repeated numbers and whenever a star dotted across the sky. you believed in those silly little things, but you only believed in them for this stupid 1.5 year period.

everything felt like it had been going your way during those times. you felt alive again after meeting kate. she was the definition of a literal ball of sunshine when it came to you. constantly bringing you to her basketball games, showing you off to her friends and teammates, introducing you to her family. things were great. the feeling was refreshing, especially after being in probably the worst relationship of your life.

a guy played you behind your back so many times and you were unable to figure out yourself. the second you did, you didn’t even know why or what to do. you struggled with school from the thought of never finding out what he thought was weird about you or why he even considered doing that in the first place. you treated him like he was the best boyfriend in the world!

then kate had dug you out of a hole you thought you’d never have the guts or the fucking courage to get out of.

“there’s nothing wrong with you trying to get your mind off of it y’know.” jada says. shes been helping you cope with this thing even though her and kate are the closest people ever. she’d never tell a single soul anything you always talk to her about. “coming to our last game in carver won’t be that bad!”

“yeah, not so bad until i see kate! you know how i feel about her, jades. it hurts.” you murmur and swipe the back of your hand against your face. there’s a painful feeling at the bottom of your stomach and it makes your skin crawl uncomfortably. “i’m not going and there’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

jada’s face contorts into a half smile when she hears the way you talk about the whole shebang. she knows you that still can’t let it go, and she wishes so badly that you could let kate go. “right.” she breathes out and grinds her teeth together. “you don’t need to come.”

but you do anyways.

you sat there at court side awkwardly, watching the hawkeyes train before their final home game. you only saw caitlin, hannah, gabbie, syd, and kylie. jada was sitting next to you and cheering on her teammates. thankfully, you didn’t spot kate anywhere close or on the court at all.

until you fucking did.

kate walked in through the tunnel and dropped her gym bag on the floor, a loud thud echoing through the arena. she had her hair up in that same stupid braid, that same stupid smirk on her face, and that same stupid look in her eyes. you hated her so fucking much and you hated the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about her no matter how hard you tried to.

that churn in the stomach made you feel like you had level 1000 cramps, but it was just that feeling you got when you felt absolutely sick to the core. sick because you didn’t know what, or how to feel after seeing kate again. it was the shitty feeling of not knowing why she even chose to leave you in the first place. it was the feeling of frustration when you saw her smile again. the feeling of confusion rushing back to you. you felt like a small child getting yelled at when she broke up with you, it was when nothing made sense at all to you. when you didn’t get the answer you wanted after multiple tries of begging for it.

you didn’t understand it, and you still don’t.

“you alright?” jada snaps you out of whatever the hell you were thinking about and you jump slightly, eyes diverting away from kate. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” you huff and smile with your teeth out. your body starts to grow numb and you feel as if you can’t breathe as well as you normally would, which jada notices. she grabs your shoulders tightly and places her palm on the side of your face to move your head towards hers. she knows you’re staring at kate. “you’re not fine.”

thanks captain obvious.

“yeah, obviously not!!!” you blurt out way too loud. it makes everything and everyone around you stop. the sound of the balls dribbling against the floor and the continuous chatter around you just stops. everything is silent and you know that its because of you. your face flushes at the embarrassment you feel and you step off onto the court, walking towards the exit. the sound of footsteps follow you and you don’t even have the guts to turn around. it seriously feels like you’re about to get completely flamed for acting out at a clear statement about what you felt.

but it’s not jada. or caitlin. it’s fucking kate.

a wave of anger and bitterness rushes through you like no other, and you can’t tell whether to be upset or nervous about this little interaction. you still love kate and you know that. “you like to yell, huh?” she chuckles and pushes your shoulder lightly. when her hand touches you, you don’t move away and just let her do it.

“lighten up, will ya?” kate’s lips curl up into the damn smirk again and she looks at you with those eyes. the eyes that she knows you can’t say no to, the eyes that got you hooked in the first place. “i missed when you acted up like that, to be honest.”

you’ve missed her touch so badly, but you just can’t admit it.

there’s a lot of things you acknowledge in life. things that you know. you know whats right and wrong when it comes to decisions and when it comes to certain things like seeing people you know you aren’t supposed to.

but you know that this is right. it always has been.

promises are always broken too, and this was one you swore you’d never break. it was hard, especially because kate was the hottest fucking person on the planet. saying ‘no’ to her was practically impossible. she asked you to come over after the game and you happily complied. which was a horrible idea.

“you’re such a fuckin’… asshole.” you whine out and let out a bated breath. your body shivers when kate’s fingers run up and down underneath your shirt and when her breath hits your sopping core. she’s in between your legs and eating you out like a madwoman. your head falls back into her pillows, fingers gripping tight at the roots of her hair and the bedsheets on the side of your body. “am i?” she mumbles, sending vibrations through your body that you haven’t felt in months.

that feeling is so good. and you know it. you missed it when kate acted up too. seeing her all tough on the court made something reignite in your stomach again, and it exploded when you saw her in the locker rooms. you literally dragged her out of there while she was in the middle of a conversation with addi and into your car. you couldn’t even wait before your lips were eagerly on hers and her hands were roaming in all the right places.

“yeah, you are. you fucking bitch…..” your voice goes up an octave the moment kate licks a stripe up your pussy and starts leaving hickeys around your thighs and stomach. “i tried ignoring you when i saw you at the club last week. all i wanted to do was jump into your arms and kiss your face off.” you admit awkwardly and let out a quiet cry the moment your stomach turns into knots. you’re close and she can feel it, her head diving down again while you absentmindedly hump at her face.

“shit!” you whimper and prop your head up, watching kate lap up every last drop of your cum. “i got you, baby,” she breathes out heavily onto your stomach. her breath is warm and she presses her cheek up against it when she feels your legs shake. her thumb rubs your sides and she looks up at you, rising up slightly and keeping herself steady with her hands. yours grabbing at her shoulders. when she keeps herself up you can feel her arms bulging underneath her shirt and she leans in. “mmf.. that’s my girl.”

her tongue swirls around yours, making you taste yourself all the way before the moment turns over quickly. “mhm..” you hum and slide your hands down her arms to get a feel again. the second you pull away, kate’s eyes go from feral to soft. she leans back and searches around on her floor, picking up your undergarments and sliding them on for you. “it’s okay.” she smiles and moves her head towards you. kate rests her head on your chest, chin in between and her arms around your stomach while your fingers cup her face.

you’re never gonna be able to stop forgiving her if she keeps doing this to you. and you know it.

[faerygrant]

having a family with carmy thoughts and headcanons pt.1

summary: engagement, wedding, honeymoon, baby!

౨ৎ Carmen doesn’t propose until 5 years into the relationship! Which although felt like a longtime ended up being worth it, as he had been through extensive therapy and had learned to deal with his anxiety and family traumas.

౨ৎ The wedding is simple and spontaneous, early morning, family heirloom rings at the courthouse. With Nat and Pete being the witnesses. Carmen’s on edge most of that morning until Pete talks him down, which you’re thankful for.

౨ৎ The reception likewise is a simple affair held in Nat and Pete’s spacious backyard. Bright fairy lights are strewn about the garden, long tables laid out for family, friends and staff from the bear. You’d insisted on having a champagne tower, which Carmy had kindly instructed Richie and Fak to put together, to your surprise it had gone well, leaving guests in awe.

౨ৎ The cake was Millefeuille, a classic for Italian weddings, it was the only thing that Carmen had explicitly asked for during the wedding prep and you were happy to oblige. The catering was courtesy of Sydney and Tina and by the looks of the satisfied guests it was a hit. Carmen’s family sat across one large table, so did your family and friends, meanwhile the staff of the Bear had their own.

౨ৎ After your first dance, which Carmen had been apprehensive about from the beginning had actually gone well, the two of you made your way over to greet the guests. The staff were all smiles as they conversate amongst each other, Richie cracking jokes with them as he went back and forth between their table and the family one, Tina and Sydney chatting lightly and Fak and Ebra rating the desserts for Marcus, who was kind enough to prepare an array of treats for the occasion.

౨ৎ By the end of the night you’d ended up in Sydney’s arms, blackout drunk, while Carmen who didn’t drink much, save for a few flutes of champagne, bid the guests goodbye on your behalf. You didn’t remember much except Sugar and Syd helping you out of your dress and getting your settled into the car with Carmy.

౨ৎ The honeymoon is short but memorable, due to yours and Carmen’s hectic work schedules. Spent in the South of France, the two of you bond over food, wine and ofcourse the art. It’s so calming for you to see him so at ease, not on edge and genuinely relaxed, being surrounded by the two things he loved most, food and art, he really was in his element.

౨ৎ The conversation of kids is never brought up, but you see the longing glances Carmen gives his niece and nephew, or the genuine smiles he gives when Richie shows him one of Eva’s many accomplishments. Giving you hope, that maybe someday he’d be open to having some of his own.

౨ৎ Your world is turned upside down when during an early summer morning you’re awoken by violent fits of illness. Throwing up into the toilet bowl while experiencing the most painful acid reflux in your life. You’re tired and upset and Carmen’s freaking out, opting to call in for the day incase you’d come down with a bug, as to not get the rest of the staff sick. When the sickness persists however and Carmen doesn’t seem to be getting sick, he goes back to work and that’s when you notice something strange.

౨ৎ A little red punctuation mark had been missing for a month now and that’s when you knew you’d have to take a test, for better or for worse. So once Carmy had left for the restaurant you’d scrambled to CVS for the test and taken it in the bathroom because you couldn’t wait for the results.

౨ৎ Explaining that you were 3+ weeks pregnant to your husband with commitment issues, anxiety, ptsd and familial trauma was nerve wracking. You didn’t know how to do it, when to do it and honestly you’d contemplated just placing the test on his side table and hiding in the attic of your new home, but alas you couldn’t.

౨ৎ Carmen’s day off was the day you’d deicided to come clean, he could tell you were still feeling well but thankfully hadn’t put two and two together. So early in the morning after making him breakfast you’d sat him down and cut to the chase. It’s safe to say that tears were shed, good and bad and after guiding him through breathing exercises his therapist had taught the both of you, you were able to get him to calm down.

౨ৎ He admitted that he was scared and you were so glad he was able to be so vulnerable with you, in sharing his fears and doubts. You assured him, held each other and made promises you’d hope the other could keep. As the months of your pregnancy passed you saw growth in Carmy, he lit up at the ultrasounds, cried from joy during the first scan, went above and beyond for your private gender reveal and was so hands on when it came to nursery duty.

౨ৎ Valentina Berzatto’s arrival took place during the early hours of the 14th of February, Valentine’s Day. Hence the name Valentina. (Also to stick to his Italian roots) you were exhausted, carmen was in tears as he laid his daughter against his bare chest as you watched the two of them, feeling so thankful for your family.

౨ৎ Your parents had come in about the same time as Sugar, Pete and their kids, all of whom were all smiles carrying with them; gifts and flowers in tow. The cousins were so excited to meet the baby, squealing and giggling as their parents assisted them in taking turns to hold her. Your parents were equally as excited, snapping photos of the ordeal, congratulating both you and Carmy.

౨ৎ Valentina hadn’t met the staff of the bear till her 3rd day on earth, as the two of you had been so exhausted and all you both seemed to do was sleep. So Carmy had offered for his staff to come visit the hospital around afternoon before the two of you fell asleep. Tina was the first to come say hi, happily taking her namesake into her arms and cooing in delight. Before she had passed the baby back to Carmen to fuss over you and ensure you were feeling okay. Sydney was as expected, frightened but excited for the both of you, she was scared to hold Val at first, but Carmen insisted she wouldn’t harm her so she did, smiling at you when your baby had opened her eyes and stretched while in Syds arms.

౨ৎ The boys from the bear were as expected, obnoxious in their introduction to Valentina. Richie and Fak insisted on showing up in suits to make a good first impression on their “niece” to which Carmy had just rolled his eyes and smiled. Richie however was dead serious and you were pretty sure you’d seen a stray tear fall from his eyes, when he first held the baby (which he was quick to cover up). You smiled in joy however when you witnessed him take Carmy aside, hugging him tightly and letting him know that Mikey would’ve been “fuckin’ proud.”

౨ৎ The first few months of parenthood aren’t easy on the two of you, at all. Carmen is caught up at work, while you’re left with Valentina for hours on end most days. Carmen tries, he really does, to keep you happy, taken care of and make you feel supported but he gets consumed by his work too often. The fourth month in particular is hardest on you, Val suffers bouts of colic daily, Carmen is nonstop at the bear and getting his attention is near impossible and you’re just utterly exhausted. That’s when Carmen and Nat find you curled up in a ball beside Val’s bassinet one day after work. You’re distraught, disheveled and inconsolable, while your daughter sleeps soundly.

౨ৎ Carmen genuinely feels like he’d failed in life, the sight had him so fucking scared that he thought you would do something tragic. He immediately takes time off work, spending most his mornings and nights feeding, burping and soothing your baby. He stays by your side throughout the day, ensuring you’ve eaten, bathed and had some alone time away from the baby. After the heartbreaking scene from that evening, Nat had sat him down after he’d had a full blown panic attack and warned him of the consequences of postpartum, and gave him tips on ways he support you through it.

౨ৎ As Valentina approached ten months it was clear to the both of you that your girl had quite the personality. The two of you spent most of your days together, seeing daddy off to work in the early mornings before a feed, followed by a diaper change. Tummy time was Val’s favourite and you always snapped photos of her gummy smile to send to her dad. Nap time was your personal favourite due to the few hours of baby free peace you got, it was made even better when Carmen’s lunch would fall under this time, giving the two of you some time to be together.

౨ৎ Both you and Carmen did bath time together, Valentina splashing around happily as the two of you happily allowed her to soak you, every time. After lots of water, bubbles and smooches, you have Carmen sit in and quietly read to your girl as you feed her before bed in her cozy rocking chair, courtesy of Donna (one of many things she’d spontaneously brought over for the baby during a fit of hysteria)

let me know if you’d like a part 2!

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3: [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Oral (M and F receiving), Phone sex, Dream sex, P in V sex, a sprinkle of SoftDom!Carmy at Reader's request, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. "I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

It was a foggy day, the cold of Chicago promised a quiet afternoon with few customers. Sydney showed up at the store and invited you to family, saying something about a surprise for Carmy. You quickly closed up and followed her back to the restaurant. Most of the staff knew you by now; Tina cupped your face lovingly, Nat hugged you, and Richie showed you to your seat. Everyone was there except Carmy. 

"What's going on?" you asked Nat in a whisper. 

"He didn't tell you? Of course he didn't tell you," she rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "It's his birthday," she said simply.

"Oh!"

You felt a weight settle in your stomach. How could you not know? You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your nervousness and stopping yourself from crying at the same time. 

"Oh, sweetie," Nat put her arm around you. "You shouldn't feel bad about it. He doesn't tell anyone. The only reason I know is because I'm his sister. We don't do presents or candles or sing because of all the- Well, you know," she gestured vaguely. You nodded. 

You didn't know the whole story but Carmy had let you know bits and pieces of his unstable childhood and the fraught relationship with his Mom, from way before Mike died.

"But Syd wanted to cook something nice for him and Marcus wanted to test a cake recipe, so," she shrugged. You managed a smile. "He'll be happy to see you," she squeezed you to her side.

"Okay, everyone start eating and act fucking normal," Richie bellowed. "We don't want the birthday boy to feel ambushed or whatever. We're having a nice meal, with our neighbor, and there's a random ass cake here for absolutely no reason, okay?"

"Your ass is random, man!" Marcus replied from the other side of the table, cutting slices of what looked like tres leches cake. Fak chuckled between forkfuls of salad.

Sydney had already started passing plates around, it was lamb and salad and it smelled delicious.

"Thanks for inviting me," you told her once she got to you. 

"I mean, you're practically family, right?" she smiled.

By the time Carmy appeared, you were all eating and talking, and he could sneak in and sit by your side almost unnoticed. 

"What's all this?" he asked, looking frantically around the room.

"They asked me to come over for family," you smiled innocently. "It's very good," you added pointing at your plate. 

"No, I mean-" he hesitated, his eyes kept searching for Nat. She was leaning against the door frame and when she saw Carmy, she put her fingers to the corners of her lips and pushed them up, to shape a smile. 'Be happy, okay?' she mouthed.

Carmy nodded, then looked down, a relieved smirk curving his lips. He tried to relax, leaning back on his seat and placing an arm behind your chair. He took the plate Richie brought him and started eating with gusto. 

"So, you know?" he asked after a while. 

"No presents, no candles, no singing," you repeated, knowing it would calm his anxiety a little. "I want to make a suggestion though."

Carmy turned his head quickly. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," you smiled mischievously. "I think this cake should be like a staple at the restaurant. No way I'm waiting for your next birthday to have it again."

Carmy laughed. After his first bite of the cake he had to agree. "That's fire," he hummed. 

His face looked bright and lovely. Your hand didn't leave his thigh for the rest of the meal. 

You leaned against Carmy's side; he kissed the top of your head and sighed, burying the two of you deeper into the cushions of the sofa. It had been a beautiful day. With his arms around you, you asked him.

"Why don't you like presents on your birthday?"

"Uh- I'm not sure," he replied honestly. His fingers drew pretty shapes on your shoulder. "I guess if you're not expecting anything then you can't be disappointed, right?" 

"I get that," you said after a while. "I just think it's a waste that I sell vintage, and you love vintage, and you don't ask for presents, you know?" you added playfully.

He smiled. "I guess. I think I like it better when it's on a random day, for no reason at all."

"Yeah," you nodded. "Can I do something nice for you, though? Just because I want to, not because it's your birthday," you clarified.

He turned to face you. "Uh- Okay."

You disentangled from his embrace and knelt between his legs on the floor . He tilted his head in confusion. You smiled and grabbed a hair tie from your pocket, making a show of putting your hair in a ponytail. Carmy's eyes widened when your hands ran up and down his thighs, slow, sensual motions that sent shivers up his spine. 

"You don't have to-" he started protesting.

"I want to," you said.

It had come up a couple of times. You'd offer to reciprocate after he'd eaten you out and he would refuse, saying he would rather be inside you. With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. 

"I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

He seemed torn, one of his hands reaching to caress yours.

"You're absolutely free to say no. There's other ways we can have fun but don't say no just because you feel you don't deserve it, Carm. You do. I promise," you said earnestly. 

He bent over to kiss you fiercely. "Alright. Yes. Please," he said.

You moved slowly, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his trousers, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more erratic. You pulled his trousers down, towards you, and started touching his thighs gently, raking your fingers through the coarse hair that went down his stomach, palming at the growing bulge over his boxers.

"Uh-" Carmy swallowed. "I have never- So if I don't last just-"

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured him. "Listen, if you last five seconds but you enjoy it, then I'm happy." 

He laughed at that and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll aim for six then," he quipped.

You removed his boxers carefully, his cock was already hard. He groaned when your breath touched his bare skin. You suspected he was right, he wasn't going to last, so you tried to make it worth his while. 

You started by kissing his head, licking the drop of precum in a quick flick of your tongue. It made him shudder with pleasure - and it made you feel powerful, the effect you had on him.

"Let me know if there's something you don't like," you said, your right hand closing loosely around his shaft. He nodded. He was hardly moving and his hands were fisting the cushions of the sofa. "You need to breathe, Carm," you reminded him, your voice had turned husky. You took one of his hands and placed it on your head, his fingers intertwined around your ponytail and you heard him exhale. "Good."

You leaned forward again, kissing around his head, making the kisses open mouthed as you went, letting him get accustomed to the feeling of your lips on him. Your hand started pumping his length, softly, no rhythm to it yet, more a caress than anything.

"You're going to fucking kill me," he rasped, his hand holding tighter to your hair, loosening the ponytail when he massaged your scalp. You moaned against his skin, which made him writhe his hips in return. 

You opened your mouth, taking the first couple of inches of him. You couldn't deep throat, but he didn't seem to mind- your hand was pumping and making up for the rest of his length. He moaned and it made your pussy tingle. 

"You sound so pretty, Carmy," you praised. He chuckled, out of breath. 

You licked the length of his shaft, wetting it enough to help your hand glide easier. You took him again, a little deeper this time, not far enough to make you gag, just enough that he threw his head back in pleasure, the veins of his neck visibly pulsing and his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried in vain to breathe normally. It was all quick gasps and the occasional groan. That was enough teasing, you decided.

You started going back and forth, the rhythm of your mouth echoed with your right hand, the left rested on his knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding tight.

"Please, don't- don't stop," he begged. His face was downwards now, looking you straight in the eye, his pupils were blown and his mouth hung open. "It feels so fucking good. Please, please..."

You sped up, hollowing out your cheeks, moving your left hand so that you were sinking your nails into the muscle of his tattooed forearm. Your underwear was wet with arousal and the sounds he made weren't helping, you pressed your thighs together to get some relief and ended up moaning on his cock.

"Holy fucking shit," he gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna-"

You felt him twitch inside your mouth, every muscle in his body growing tense. He groaned over and over, going quieter each time, letting go completely. Salt covered your tongue in spurts and you did your best to swallow most of it, a little bit of it fell down the corner of your mouth. You slowed down, pumping him until he pulled you off his softening cock, mumbling something about "so good" and "too much". His hand let go of your hair and cupped your face, his eyes were glazed over and blissed out, a loving look to his sweaty face. 

"So fucking good," he managed to say in an exhale. His thumb cleaned the drop of cum off your chin - so carefully, so gently that it warmed your insides. "You're beautiful."

You laughed in disbelief but then you remembered how gorgeous he looked when he emerged from in between your thighs, half of his face completely wet, a turned on blush on his cheeks...

He pulled you up on his lap and kissed you senseless, his tongue caressing your tired lips, humming contentedly into you. You were both a mess: him naked from the waist down, you with your hair completely undone and your underwear soaked.

"Best birthday I've ever had," he said against your lips, his forehead to yours. "Thank you." 

You smiled. "You're welcome. Happy birthday, Carmy." 

~

You had slowly gotten used to sleeping in a bed that smelled like Carmy. Whether it was at your place or his, even if the sheets on his side were cold they still had a hint of salt, smoke, and his expensive aftershave. 

"Get a fucking grip," you reprimanded yourself in a low voice. 

Call me when you get home? 

You sent the text before you could chicken out. He wouldn't leave the restaurant for another hour or so, so you settled on the hotel room bed, the unfamiliar cream colored covers suffocating, the sound of a movie on the TV only making you more antsy. 

When the phone rang, it was a little before midnight. You were comfortable and warm - and completely awake.

"Hey, you okay?" Carmy's voice sounded raspy on the phone. 

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just- I couldn't sleep and-" you chuckled without a hint of humor. It felt silly: it was an overnight trip, you were staying at a nice hotel, and you couldn't sleep because Carmy wasn't there. It was so fucking silly. "Never mind. I'm okay, it's late. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Hey!" Carmy stopped you from hanging up. "Talk to me. What's up?"

"Fuck," you looked at the ceiling. "I don't know. Nothing bad happened. Actually, the estate sale went great. Uh. This lady had a big collection of dresses, fifties and sixties, beautiful pieces. And shoes! Just tons of them, barely used, Gucci and shit."

"And you got them?" Carmy asked, you could almost hear him frowning.

"Yeah! It's all good stuff and I think it will sell well too."

"That's good," he said, his tone soothing. "So, what's wrong?"

"Uh- I don't know," you repeated. "I came back to the hotel and it was so- just so fucking quiet and it feels wrong, you know?"

Carmy hummed in agreement. 

"I get it," he said after a beat. "When I got here, uh, the apartment was very fucking quiet too. Creeped me out a bit."

You sighed. Maybe it wasn't so silly.

"It helps, though," you said after a beat. "Talking with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "How was your day?"

"It was absolute shit," he replied.

"Too bad I'm not there to fuck about it," you said. 

Sometimes, when Carmy's day was too bad to even talk about, you would fuck - hard and fast - and then talk about it. Hence, fuck about it. 

Carmy chuckled. "Yeah," you could hear him exhale as he fell heavily on the couch or the bed. "That would actually help a lot."

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach flip a little. "Um, Carm?"

"Mmm?"

"I know you said you hadn't been with anyone before me-" you prompted. "Does that mean you never had phone sex either?"

He coughed loudly on the other side of the line. You pictured him choking on his own cigarette smoke, a deep blush to his cheeks. 

"Sorry?" he asked after a moment.

"I mean that we can still fuck about it... If you want," you offered. "You know, you can say what you would like to do to me, or maybe tell me what I should do... That sort of thing."

"Uh," he hesitated. "I do- I'd like to try but I- I'm not good at playing pretend, you know? Never been, not even as a kid."

"If I do the talking? Would that be better?" 

"Maybe?" his voice sounded ragged but not just from coughing. 

"I've never, uh, taken the lead before but that would, like, even out the playing field, right?" you reasoned, your heart beating faster.

"What- what would that be like?" 

"I could tell you about the nice pajamas I'm wearing," you lowered your voice. "The blue ones?"

"With the shorts and the little bows?" Carmy asked. "You look good in those..."

You opened your legs, your free hand playing with the elastic of your shorts. 

"I wish you would take them off for me, Carm. I wish you would touch me like only you know how. I want your fingers inside me," he cleared his throat on the other side of the line. "Would you like to do that?"

"Yes," his voice was breathy, "I would, yes."

"I want you to do something for me, Carmy," you started teasing between your legs over the fabric of your shorts. "Remember when we first fucked? You closed your eyes and touched yourself to get hard again. Can you do that?"

"Yeah. Yeah," you could barely hear his intake of breath and it still made you shiver.

"You looked so fucking hot, I still think about it when I finger myself," you confessed. You could picture him clearly, the veins of his arms and neck bulging, his head thrown back.

"Shit..." he rasped.

"Can you hold the phone close, Carm? I want to hear you while you touch your cock."

"I want to hear you too... Ah, fuck!"

The sound made you curl your toes with anticipation. You got your hand inside your underwear and traced lines on your folds, caressing slowly.

"I'm already so wet," you said. "Are you hard for me, Carmy?"

"So fucking hard," he drawled and you moaned.

"What would you like me to do?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "If I was there, Carm, what would you like me to do?"

"Ri- Ride me," he managed. 

His breathing was a quick staccato that made your hand pick up speed, spreading wetness around your clit. You sat up on the bed, imagined Carmy underneath you, holding tight to your hips, your hands on his sculpted chest.

"How? How do you want me to- oh, God- ride you?"

"Just- hard," he groaned but it was a muffled sound, he was holding back. 

"Carm..."

"I want you to fucking wreck me," he blurted out.

If he felt like he had fucked up, like he had done something terribly wrong at the restaurant, he liked it to hurt a little, you knew that by now. Maybe the rhythm was punishing, maybe it was way too fast, maybe you denied him his orgasm for a while. Anyway, he was atoning. 

"I want you to touch you like I would, Carmy," you said. "Can you do that for me? Put lube on your hand, hold your cock tight, and go as fast as you can, okay?"

"Yes," it was barely a whisper. But suddenly you could listen - deep growls from way within his chest, rhythmic gasps that grew quicker and quicker. You struggled to catch up with him, your middle and ring fingers pumped in and out of you in tandem with his sounds. 

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. "I can hear it. Jesus Christ."

"It's not the same without you, Carm," you said honestly. Your hand was wet to the palm but you still wanted that fullness only he could make you feel. "I need you inside me, I need you."

"Oh, fuck!"

He got quiet for a second, then groaned a few times, your pussy clenching while he did. You were so close. He sighed into the speaker, relieved and spent - you wanted to be happy for him but you were still on the edge and desperate for release. You kept moaning.

"Have you come?" Carmy asked.

"Not yet," you managed to say.

"Shit."

"I'm close though. Just stay on the line, please."

You could feel it slipping out of your grasp. It wasn't enough to have him listen, you needed something to hold on to. You let out a needy whine.

He read your mind, and in that fucked out voice he said: "That was- holy shit- that was so, so fucking hot. You made me come and you didn't even touch me," you fluttered against your fingers. "Can’t believe you're mine. You're my good girl."

He had never called you that. That was it. The tension within you snapped and you could breathe again. Eyes shut and forehead to the duvet, you could almost feel Carmy's hands touching up your back, tickling at your sides. You let out a shaky laugh.

"Fuck, Carmy. Fuck," you repeated, something warm settling in your belly. 

"You okay?" he said. You had dropped the phone and you heard him far away.

You wiped your hand on your hip and settled back on the bed, tired and a little sweaty. You'd have to shower again in the morning but you found you didn't care right now.

"I'm okay," you replied when you could pick up your phone. "So okay. You?"

"So okay," he repeated with a chuckle. 

"Okay," you let out a big exhale. "Now tell me about your day."

~

You were at The Bear, it was late at night, the lights were dimmed down and there were no patrons. You turned around and found the place empty - ghostly and quiet. 

"Hello?" No one replied.

Now that you thought of it, you didn't know how you got there - couldn't remember, actually. But Carmy was suddenly there too, hands on his hips, wearing his pristine chef's whites. The blue of his eyes popped with the ambience lighting in a way that felt supernatural.

"Carmy," you called but he didn't move.

"On the table," he said brusquely, pointing with his head at the only piece of furniture left in the restaurant. There was no tablecloth or cutlery on it.

"What?" you asked.

"On the fucking table!" he yelled and you obeyed, sitting quickly on it, facing him.

"What's going on?" you asked.

He laughed - it wasn't his usual laugh, soft and floaty - it was a cruel sound, glass like. 

"What's going on, sweetheart, is that I'm going to fuck you, on this table, until you come three times," he said and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Or until you beg me to stop, whatever happens first."

You didn't say a word, you couldn't: he kissed you violently, biting on your lip and grabbing your throat. 

"Carmy, holy shit! Slow down," you pleaded when you parted to catch your breath. 

He stopped but only to spread your legs wide open, his fingers digging into your thighs forcefully, then going up your skirt. He leaned to whisper in your ear:

"You sure you want that?"

His voice was low, caramel like, delicious. You ran a hand up his chest, fisting white fabric, bringing him closer. 

"Good," he said. His fingers shoved your underwear to the side and teased mercilessly.

"Fuuuck," you whined as he made you melt in his hands. 

He was touching you just right, having you soaked and pliant so fast it left you dizzy. He thrust two fingers inside you and started pumping fast, his thumb circling your clit - you thanked your stars that you had showed him early on where it was. Your moans grew louder and longer.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he asked but it sounded like an order. 

You nodded frantically. 

"Are you gonna let me bend you over this table, fuck your pussy as hard as I want?" 

"Yes, please, fuck," you whined. 

Just before the knot within you could unravel, the bright light of morning rushed through the window and made you squeeze your eyes and cover your face. And suddenly you weren't at The Bear, you were at Carmy's place, warm in his bed. It was Sunday, you remembered.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled. 

Carmy was right next to you, twisting to face you as he woke up too.

The mornings you shared were few and far between, the occasional day off, the days when you had to get up early to take a train for a sale out of town... They were precious, you loved to see Carmy with sleepy eyes, reaching out for you from under the covers. You smiled and stared at him. 

"Morning," you said, feeling a little weird about your dream. 

"Mornin'," he slurred with his eyes closed. "You sleep okay?" 

"Uh-huh," you tried to sound casual. "You?"

"Yeah," you let him pull you in closer, his nose brushed the side of your neck. And his hard on brushed your thigh. 

"Oh!" your heart raced - the one thing that still remained from your dream was the wetness between your legs.

"Shit," Carmy covered his face with his hand. "I'll, uh, I'll take care of it. Don't worry about it."

You cleared your throat nervously. "Actually-"

You didn't know where to begin so you simply grabbed his hand and showed him how wet you were, even through your underwear he could tell. His eyes widened.

"Wh- What- Why?"

"Uh, I dreamt of you," you said simply. 

"What about?" he asked. You shrugged. "I mean, if you liked whatever happened in your dream that much, we could..." he let the offer float. He had that curious look about him.

You bit your lip. It had been good, so good. But it made you feel a little embarrassed about the things that you wanted, what they meant about you.

"We were- Well, you fingered me and- yeah," you hoped he would be satisfied with that. 

"Oh," he sounded a little disappointed but he obliged. "Sure, we can do that." 

He scooted closer still, his hand and the way he moved was gentle and sweet. And completely wrong. You took his wrist and stopped him.

Carmy looked up in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head. "I'll- I'll tell you about my dream but promise me you won't laugh," you pressed your hands on his chest. He nodded solemnly. "Even if we don't end up doing it because it's not your thing just- Don't laugh, okay?"

"I won't," he promised. 

"Okay," you took a deep inhale. "So I dreamt that we were at the restaurant. We were all alone, it was late at night and you- Well, you told me to get on a table and that you would make me come three times," you blushed furiously. "You kissed me and you fingered me. You said you would bend me over on the table and fuck me hard. And then I woke up."

"Shit," Carmy said.

"Yeah."

"Was I- Was I different?" he asked. 

"You were a little mean."

"And you were into it?" nothing about his tone betrayed disgust or revulsion.

"I didn't think I would be, but yeah," you replied honestly. 

Carmy ran a hand through his hair and stared at you for a little bit.

"You know I'm not good at the pretending thing," he said and you nodded. "But I think I can fuck you on the table until you come three times."

You felt like you had the wind knocked out of you. 

Before you knew it, you were both naked, kissing in the middle of his kitchen, his hands under your thighs as he placed you on the table. 

"I'm gonna need you to keep count for me," he said, lowering to his knees between your legs. That was the last thing he said before devouring you.

You knew Carmy was competitive but you didn't know it would extend to a dream version of him. He became laser focused: his only goal was to be a better lover than dream Carmy, make you come undone faster and harder than he ever could. Without preamble, he hooked two fingers inside you, curling non-stop, making you gasp for air. His mouth worked tirelessly licking and sucking at your clit, getting satisfaction every time you pulled at his hair. In minutes, he had you bucking your hips frantically, trying to fuck his face. You screamed and heaved and cursed, grabbing to the edge of the table for dear life. 

"How many?" he demanded once he got up from between your legs, wiping his face clean with his forearm. His voice sounded rough and you could see a glimpse of the cut-throat chef he used to be back in New York. You felt the aftershocks of your orgasm go through you one more time. 

"One," you replied.

He grabbed your hips and brought you down from the table, then flipped you over. You heard the condom wrapper hit the floor, then, immediately felt his breath on the back of your neck as he lined up his cock to your pussy. He wasn't careful before and he wasn't careful now, going all the way inside you in a swift motion. It was pleasure and pain in even measures, it was exactly what you asked for. Your knees trembled underneath you but Carmy held you upright. 

"Holy shit," was all you could say before succumbing to the rhythm of his hips against yours.

It was slow, purposeful. One of his hands played with your nipples while the other pressed on your clit. It was too much. You took the hand on your clit and placed it on your neck instead, remembering the way Carmy had kissed you in the dream, holding you possessively. Your Carmy didn't press at all, he caressed the column of your throat with careful fingers, kissed the side of it with devotion. It made you melt onto the tabletop. The feeling of your bare chest on the wooden surface and the sound of his hips clapping against yours turned you on even more. It took you by surprise when you started fluttering on Carmy's cock, your release almost gentle, a series of soft needy moans the only outer indication that you had come.

When you regained your bearings, your cheek to the table and your ass up in the air, you said with an unsteady voice:

"Two."

One of his hands soothed down your spine, a silent question being asked: Do you still want to go on? Can you do one more? You reached for his hand and squeezed it, using the strength you had left to get off the table and turn to face Carmy. He was a sweaty mess, curls falling on his forehead, red in the face from edging his orgasm to give you three. You didn't think you could love anyone more than you loved him right then.

"Carmy."

"I'm here. I'm right here," he maneuvered you gently to lay on your back over the table, his eyes on yours. You hummed contentedly. He lifted your legs, placing one on each shoulder and giving you a shy smile - you realized he had actually read the sex book you had bought him as a joke. You giggled. He didn't do anything in half measures. 

This time, his motions weren't calculated and cold. The tenderness when he soothed your back and caressed your neck had bled into everything else. His hips stuttered every now and then, his fingers touched your ankles gently, and his eyes were fixed on you. It was perfect. 

"I'm close," you whispered, one of your hands playing with your chest, the other reaching behind you to the edge of the table. You felt weightless. "You can let go, Carmy."

It was all a blur: the swirl of electricity down your body, the beautiful sounds that you made together, and the feeling of him falling on top of you. 

"Shit! I'm sorry I'm crushing you," he mumbled on your skin, his arms flexing as he lifted himself up. You looked up at him and cupped his face, the post-coital glow and the morning light making him look angelic.

"Thank you," you said and he smiled. "It was good, better than I imagined."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Right then, your stomach growled audibly. You covered your face with your hands, mortified. He peeled them off and leaned to nuzzle against your cheek. 

"Pancakes?" he offered in a whisper.

You laughed and turned your head to kiss the tip of his nose. "Yes. Please."

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 4]

[outmakingmoonshine]

I was just writing a post about the Carmy/Faks scene & how it's really just Carmy talking to himself. For this scene the two Faks represent his inner voices/subconscious (which might only apply to this scene idk), but then I decided to see what all these scenes looked like together and wow am I glad I did!! Seeing these 4 scenes side by side is very interesting.

The first two scenes in 3x05 & 3x07 mirror each other, the last two scenes in 3x09 mirror each other and all 4 of them tell their own story together. The first scene is Carmy's talking to himself but shouting & aiming it at anyone who's listening. The 2nd is Syd talking to herself but mostly mumbling so only she can hear. In the Faks scene Carmy's having an "imaginary" conversation out loud with two people, just like Syd's doing in the last scene rehearsing what she might say to both Adam Shapiro and Carmy.

And if you rearrange these scenes & put the first 2 after the Faks scene, if we saw/heard those sarcastic "that makes sense" comments after we saw the "Claire is peace" scene in that exact same location, it would've been a lot easier to figure out what they're really referring to!

There are lots of layers to unpack here but I'm gonna talk about the main things that jump out at me. This is probably gonna be a bit chaotic with different ideas and breakdowns of what things could mean so I hope it's not too confusing. Anyone else feel free to jump in with your thoughts.

Below the cut

Notice how in all these scenes, except one, Carmy and Syd are alone talking out loud to themselves, vocalizing their inner thoughts. Mute the video and just read the subtitles if you need to. The scene with the Faks reads like a conversation with imaginary friends or like the two funny inner voices of a character in a comedy movie. All these scenes are like they're from a comedy movie tbh.

In the first two scenes Carmy & Syd act the same way they both deal with their problems (Carmy shouting about it to anyone who'll listen and Syd pissed but mostly keeping it quiet/to herself). They're the only ones actually inside the dumpster in all the scenes which makes me think it represents their minds and the boxes are the mental chaos & thoughts they're trying to sort through. The Faks are technically outside Carmy's mind/the dumpster so they don't speak from the mind or for the mind but they're close to it, communicating with it & "helping" sort through the chaos. Maybe the dumpster represents the conscious mind and the Faks are Carmy's subconscious. It sounds like The Faks are encouraging Carmy to fall back into his base programming, which people often tend to do when they're lost and don't know what to do. They're trying to convince him to call Claire bc Carmy's base programming from his family is "Claire is good". That's what safe to him bc it's a "truth" he's always known & believed. Idk there's many possibilities. It's also Interesting how later this episode The Faks go to Claire and speak directly for Carmy like they know for sure what he's thinking & feeling.

Lets get into the dialogue of the first two scenes:

"[Carmy] That makes sense. [box clatters] Boxes full of bullshit. Put it on the f*cking list. Oh, it's good. I'll do it. I got it. I got it."

Just a side note: The next line in the script is "I don't know wha-what I'm supposed to do with all this stuff" from Marcus in the next scene where he's clearing out all his mum's stuff with Syd.

"[Syd] 'Cause why would you do it? I mean, you're supposed to do it. This is-- This is fine. This is good. This makes sense. This is f*cking… F*ck. F*ck. [pants] [muttering] F*ck. [growls] fcking-- Where are the fcking Faks? F*ck!"

I don't even know where to start, there's so many ways to read this!

Carmy said one specific thing in the Faks scene that very clearly "didn't make sense"...Claire is peace. He knows that's not true but I think the point is he's been avoiding thinking about who his peace actually is all S3*. Carmy & Syd are both sarcastically saying "that makes sense" like it's subtly referring to that scene later in the same place. Was the panic attack scene by the same dumpsters? Idk someone let me know please.

*Carmy said in 3x07 he tries to avoid thinking about legacy. The only legacy we know of is the one he's trying to build with Syd both professionally and personally. His realization that Syd's brings him peace in the panic attack in 2x09 is the reality of his legacy that he's been trying to avoid all S3. He's working to get her his star and creating dishes inspired by her so Syd's cearly on his mind but the one thing he should be thinking about and talking to her about, he's avoiding.

There are many different layers of possible meaning and/or foreshadowing in this dialogue, but one layer it can be read is how they're both thinking/feeling about the Claire situation bc even tho Syd didn't mention it all season it's still there between them. Maybe none of this is about Claire, but if it was:

Carmy: "[sarcastically] that makes sense"...claire is "peace". "Boxes full of bullsh*t"...he's full of bullshit that Claire's his peace?!! Or maybe Claire is in the boxes of bullshit aka his baggage and past trauma he needs to sort through? "Put it on the "f*cking list"...put Claire on the list of his stress & baggage? And a very sarcastic "Oh it's good. I'll do it. I got it. I got it." He'll do what he's "supposed to do" with Claire & call her/apologize/maybe even be with her even tho it clearly sounds like he doesn't want to..?? He's "got it"...even though he clearly doesn't. "It's good" but she's clearly not The Good Thing™.

Syd: "Cause why wouldn't you do it? I mean you're supposed to do it"...why won't carmy just sort himself out? why wont he just call claire/be with claire since Syd thinks that's what he wants & she acts in front of him like "it's not her place to be [beside him on a personal level]" almost direct quote from her in 3x09. She's probabaly confused why Carm just wont be with Claire. From Syd's perspective he changed his mind about her and chose Claire in S2, so the next logical step is he'd be with Claire. "This is fine. This is good. This makes sense."...carmy saying claire is peace & also probably how she'll react out loud if carmy/claire get back together. "This is f*cking… F*ck. F*ck. [pants] [muttering] F*ck. [growls] fcking--"...this is how she really feels about the whole Claire situation & Carmy just ditching her & "changing shit" (that came up a lot this season), which ultimately led to him not treating her like a partner in their professional relationship. "Where are the fcking Faks? F*ck!"...a direct lead in to Carmy's scene in the exact same place 2 episodes later.

Sydney's dialogue in 3x07 scene also reads like a run-on of Carmy's dialogue in 3x05, continuing his thoughts trying to convince himself of what he should do with Claire but he's panicking so he calls for the Fak's, his imaginary friends/inner voices, who are there with him the next time we see him in that spot. From the dialogue it makes sense but idk if we've ever seen the show do that with Syd before so idk. Sydney is clearly definied as her own character but she is definied as a mirror of Carmy too so it's a possibility.

Of course this is all interpretation, some or none of this could be directly about Claire but idk. The location (esp if it's in the same place he had the 2x09 panic attack), all the "coincidental" dialogue, the way all these scenes tie together...and with the panic attack scene and the opposing realizations Carmy comes to about Syd & Claire in 2x09 & 3x09. It wasn't a "realization" about Claire in 3x09, he didn't even look like he believed what he was saying tbh. It looked like he just made it up on the spot.

It's also interesting that these scenes by the dumpsters are the quivalent of S1 & 2's walk in scenes where both Syd & Carmy go for a moment of peace to clear their thoughts and "cool off". We don't see those this season but we do get these which is more like them sorting out all the chaotic thoughts & feelings inside them, separating the "trash" from the good stuff, "the bad from the good" like Carmy said he wanted/needed to do to achieve his legacy in 3x07.

In the Faks scene listen to all the "we" and "us" talk;

"If we did it when it was scheduled. We do though. We do it, Carm. All we do is break down boxes. We break 'em down and we have to do it again. Who would wanna haunt us? Who's pissed at us? Sammy's pissed at us."

Until Claire is mentioned (a sobering thought for Carmy) and it's suddenly "Not us. Just you. Not us." Reality hit for a moment and the imaginary friends want to separate themselves from him because they're not "real" & they didn't upset Claire so she can't be mad at them. I think Carmy is the only "real" one in this scene. The Faks are the imaginary friends/inner voices that seem like they're helping the main character but they're really just causing more chaos and leading him down the wrong path because they're misunderstanding what he wants based on what he's forcing himself to think about; Claire. (I lowkey think Carmy's forcing memories of Claire to stop himself from thinking about Sydney.)

The transition of Carmy talking to himself with The Fak's representing two parts of his mind aka "two minds" going straight into Syd talking to herself & voicing out loud what she'd say to both Shapiro and Carmy like she's having a mental conversation with two different people and that she's in "two minds". "I wanted to start off by saying I'm grateful" sounds formal and directed at Adam Shapiro. "Ok so I wanted to talk to you..." sounds more personal and directed at Carmy. It's a similar concept of being in two minds used in a slightly different context but in this show and the writing specifically, context is all over the place anyway.

Also the transition into the Syd scene is to drive home the point that Carmy was just having a conversation with himself, trying to convince himself that Claire is peace, she's "good" etc. For this scene (and possibly this scene only) Theodore is the stubborn part of Carmy that doesn't like to be pushed around who thinks stuff like "Yeah but I'd see his ass" about Sammy Fak. And you know there's a part of Carmy that would have that attitude but the conscious part of him is smarter than that. Neil is the more sweet, anxious side of Carmy that is kind of "away with the fairies" a little bit, in his own head a lot. Carmy is the regular, conscious, "real" Carmy trying to figure out the mental mess he's in.

I think transitioning into that Syd scene was also to callback to the only other times Syd or Carmy spoke aloud to themselves. I might be forgetting something but I think all these scenes are the only times we see either of them have full conversations with themselves out loud in S3..? Someone let me know if that's wrong please.

Side note- From one perscpective: Carmy's reaction to Theodore calling Claire "a piece of ass" was so...unaffected??! Could you imagine if someone said that about Syd?? He bit Richie's head off for calling her "sweetheart" in 1x01 and physically put himself between them so I can't imagine he'd take it that lightly if it was about Syd...From another perpective, if this scene is all about Carmy's inner thoughts, is he asking himself if that's how he sees Claire? I don't think he does intentionally but it's a valid question considering the show seems to use physical intimacy as a substitute for any real connection between them. If Claire & Carmy never kissed or had sex, would anyone see that relationship as a romance?? I really don't think so tbh, the physical initmacy is the only thing about their scenes that confirms it's supposed to be seen as a romance. Meanwhile SydCarmy are drowning in real connection before any physical intimacy.

Anyone please feel free to jump in and add your thoughts, I'd love to know your perspectives on seeing all these scenes together @thoughtfulchaos773 @sydcarmyfan @yannaryartside @currymanganese @vacationship @afrofairysblog @greekyogurttragedy @tvfantic87 @moodyeucalyptus @gingergofastboatsmojito @ambeauty @whenmemorydies @brokenwinebox and anyone else who wants to jump in is welcome to.