#Sydney x FEM!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thebearer · 7 months ago

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nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.”

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line.

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket.

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock.

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval.

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one.

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name?

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week.

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself.

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows.

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.”

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window.

There you were.

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high.

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-”

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it.

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned.

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.”

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone.

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it.

From: Richie

‘Look at table nine.’

Sugar huffed.

To: Richie

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen?

To: Richie

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’

From: Richie

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end.

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,”

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced.

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-”

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.”

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin.

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge.

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his.

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee.

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection.

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.”

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight.

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out.

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue.

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing.

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face.

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded.

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.”

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head.

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.”

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-”

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.”

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.”

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-”

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered.

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window.

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.”

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger.

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time.

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.”

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?”

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.”

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl.

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called.

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered.

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.”

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?”

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.”

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?”

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

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xblackreader · 6 months ago

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I love him and I’m not joking.

#jeremy allen white #jayo #ayomy #lip gallagher #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x sydney #syd x carmy #carmy x reader #carmy x claire #carmy smut #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader #carmy fluff

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neonovember · 1 year ago

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Hello! I hope you’ve been doing okay! I saw that you had requests open and I also saw that you take requests for Carmen? If it’s totally okay of course to request for him! I got into the bear a few days ago and my brain has been filled with nothing but thoughts of Carmy. Would it be okay just requesting something that’s just Carmen being worried/concerned about the reader? He just always sees whenever there’s that tiredness to them when it looks like it’s a bad day, that slump in their shoulders that all too much reminds him of him a little sometimes, just bringing them into the office and his eyebrows are furrowed with that look of concern and his eyes the same, maybe unexpectedly just wrapping them in a hug (Your writing is so cute btw!) 💕

to carry and to bear

ask, it will be my infinite quest to fulfill! love this request so much and i loved writing is even more. i'm going to be so annoying when s2 comes out, especially since i love carmen's character so much! thank you for your request anon <3

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: richie (yes he’s a warning), unresolved anxiety, horrible customers, fainting

word count: 5k (short for me lmao)

a/n: you know i love a character when i'm completing fics in under a day..lets pray this momentum keeps going

Wrapping yourself tight against the chilly wind of the unforgivable Chicago weather, you watch the city coming alive in the early morning as you walk down the concrete sidewalk of the Beef’s city corner.

Merchants and gazebo have begun to set up shop, their bright red vendor stands a stark contrast to the grey haze of the windy city. Corner stores and cafes have begun to uncover their blinds, dusting away the sliver of droplets that had long since evaporated after a heavy downpour the night before.

it’s slow though.

The mass of cars and yellow cabbed taxis haven’t yet filled the gravel roads, and the surging rush of traffic and uncontrollable road rage the beef windows have been accustomed to viewing hasn't filled the air.

The pinch of cold begins to itch against the cracks in your outerwear. Your trusted winter jacket and gloves had been left at the bottom of your laundry basket and instead you were forced to throw on a flimsy polyester jacket that provided absolutely no warmth.

Your fingers are stuffed into your pocket, trying to hide them from the cold but it is no use. They shake against the freezing air of wind as you push past huddles of men chain smoking and passing coolers of steaming coffee on street corners.

You’re about to go ask for a cup, despite Carmen's disgruntled comments of their huddled group festering near the restaurant. They were a pack of wolves, and whilst Sydney's sandwiches had fended them off for a while, the hole in the Beef’s window was still fresh. Like a cycle, more and more had begun to trickle in from alleyways, leading to customers steering clear from the nearby streets.

Carmen didn’t even like you walking to work this early, you get it, despite being daylight, Chicago had a way of defying social norms. You had paid some attention to the increase in robbing and attacks that had begun to frequent news reports.

It wouldn't have been a problem, walking was always voluntary for you as you had a perfectly fine working car that would drive you to and from your destination with as little as a rumble from its engine. And yet, that seemingly perfect car decided to break down on you this morning, leading to an overheated engine and a smoke filled hood.

So not only did you have to pay for a towing truck to drag away your car to an auto shop you couldn't afford to afford, but you were late. And you hated being late.

Not to mention your sister had called you late last night, asking to stay for a couple nights after her good for nothing boy-friend you would rather call a child had kicked her out after a fight.

She had rambled for nothing short of 2 hours after you had gotten home from the Beef late last night, and the pull of sleep had begun to weigh on you. The exhaustion and deprivation had written itself in the slug of your limbs and the slump of your shoulders.

You had to come in today, there were no rest days even if the Beef wasn't neck deep in debt and Cicero didn't have you all on a leash. Especially if you wouldn't allow yourself one. You had that in common with Carmen, you frequently ignored your own needs for your craft, the same insatiable passion and need for perfection driving you to exhaustion.

The familiar chime of the Beefs wooden doors hit your ears, and you shake off the cold of the city streets, the Beef is warm and you're grateful, sighing as the heat of prepped ovens and oiled pans defrosts your face.

It takes a second before you walk into the busy kitchen when the sound finally reaches you. The screeching sound of Richie's voice bickers with Tina about the next door convenient store being turned into a “pretentious hipster coffee shop that is legally selling dog water to unassuming Chicagoans”.

Dragging on and on about the invasion of gentrification that will soon take out all the good businesses that had been around since his grandfather had come from Sicily. Richie was not from Siciliy. In which Carmen mirrors your thoughts and yells that he is not Italian, and his obsession with the European country has been bordering on creepy.

Ebra is reciting an article about a culinary student that had gone rogue and murdered their entire class, giving pointers on how he himself had to patch up an entire unit of people stabbed by a bent corkscrew. The loud conversations and untethered yelling across the kitchen combines with the malfunctioning arcade that has begun to re-circuit the same sentence for 20 minutes now, digs a deep burrow into your temple.

You stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching the commotion of early morning prep with a tight grimace, your head begins to vibrate a little, the start of a headache you won’t be relieved from spreading and you have to swallow down the exhaustion that begins to seep in at the sight.

Sydney brushes past you, greeting you with a hello and one of her charming smiles before muttering about throwing that arcade machine out the back. You giggle and it hurts, but you do it anyway because, fuck, you would help her.

You step into the kitchen, and the crew each turn to greet you good morning as you walk past them into the locker bay stuffing your bag and shoes into the cabinet before quickly changing.

Your phone reads 7am and you stuff it into the pocket of your hung jacket before slamming the locker shut. Carmen peeks his head around the corner, nodding at you as you put on your non-slip shoes, calling your name when you don't notice, you flinch before peering up and Carmen waves trying to get your attention.

“Mornin’ chef, didn’t think you were coming in” Carmen remarks, raising his eyebrows as he leans his shoulder against the wall.

“Morning, yeah, sorry about that, uh- shit happened and I had to deal with it all at once. Won;t happen again” You reply, biting back a yawn, before letting your feet fall to the ground.

“It’s all good,” Carmen replies, nodding, wiping his hand on the white towel hanging on his shoulder that was already smudged with stains.

“Just shoot me a text or call next time, yeah?” Carmen replies

“Will do chef” You reply, smiling, before peering out to see Sydney carrying a basket of ingredients

“New recipe?” You ask, nodding towards Sydney, and Carmen nods, running a hand through his curls as he leans forward.

“Well call it trying something. Not yet finished, just needs some minor tweaks here and there” Carmen replies

“I can help Sydney out if you want?” You reply without a second thought.

You already had prep and a marinade you had to make for Cicero’s function he had conveniently told Carmen about the night before, but helping out was second nature to you, it was a part of this family's culture.

Carmen shakes his head, his eyes falling to your slumped shoulder, and the slow but tight blinks you tended to do when you were exhausted.

The second he had peered his head around the corner and saw the slug of your limbs he knew something was up, but he also knew he couldn't force you to relax, you were worse than him, always taking on so much, filling up your cup until it was overflowing.

“No, no, it’s alright, besides, that marinade isn’t going to be easy, I should be asking if you want me to help out” Carmen replies, chuckling, scratching his neck as you curve your mouth into that smile he loves so much. You could be half-dead and he still stares at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

“I think I’ve got it handled. I remember having to make something similar back at Le Bleu, you just got to get the temperature right or the entire thing gets spoiled. Having more than one person just makes it more confusing. besides, don't you have that meeting with the vendor today?” You reply, and Carmen sighs, nodding

“Yep, hopefully this place looks stable enough to get him to sign, you know I can’t deal with corporate bullshit. Sydney should’ve met up with them, fuck any one other than me” Carmen replies, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hem of his apron.

Despite his numerous accolades, and world renowned talent, he only ever felt at nature in the kitchen. High function parties and elusive dinner bars were things he despised, feeling out of place despite it being thrown in his name.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're the face of this place Carmen, you’ve transformed it, you oughta show them the Beef is the best investment they’ll make. Hell you’re the best investment they can make” You reply, and Carmen ears perk at your reply, smiling fondly at your comment. He didn't deserve your praise, and he hated the way the sound of your lips curving around his name shoots through him.

“Are y'all going to get to work or continue eye fucking?” Richie calls, as he passes by the locker bay, and Carmen immediately shakes his head muttering a fuck you before nodding to you, and heading back to his station. You get up from your seated position on the bench, dusting and ironing out the creases in your apron before mentally going over the things you had to complete before opening.

Prep vegetables, then start the veal stock for Cicero's marinade. You had to complete it early, since it had to be chilled for at least 5 hours, any less and the fat would congeal and turn into a complete mess you didn’t have time to fix.

You walk towards your station, stepping over sauce that had spilled onto the tile floors, this crew was amazing in their craft, but god were they messy. You bump shoulders with Sydney as you begin to grate and cut root vegetables and herbs, you have to force your eyes open, blinking several times before dipping your hand into an ice water bucket and wiping your face with it.

Sydney converses with you, and it wasn't that she was boring, in fact you both frequently spend time even out of the restaurant as friends. But you can’t even try to decipher what she says, just sounds coming out of her mouth that you pack away in order to get your job done.

Just cut the vegetables, finish the stock, cut the vegetables, finish the stock, you repeat it like a mantra in your head, unaware at Sydney calling your name. She reaches forward, pressing a soft hand to your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Sydney replies, concern written across her features as she peers at your disoriented state.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” You reply, avoiding her gaze. You feel her penetrate through you, pitying the exhaustion on your face, probably realising you were a shit chef who couldn't even handle a couple responsibilities.

“I was asking if you could grab me some of the sauce I made yesterday from the storage fridge. You alright? You seem a bit..” Sydney starts, before you cut her off quickly

“Just had a long night, didn't get much sleep” You reply, rubbing your eyes with a hand. What has gotten into you? You weren't foreign to a few sleepless nights and a few too many deadlines you had to meet, hell your entire college and culinary life had been exactly that.

“That’ll kill you, you know” Richie butts in, reaching for a crab cake Sydney had prepared before being swatted away with a wooden spoon.

“What?” You ask, already regretting asking Richie to elaborate on what was clearly some elaborated story he had got stored away

“Go without that good old shut eye a few nights too long and you'll start hallucinating shit, not fucking with you you, don’t you know about the Russian sleep experiment-?” Richie rambles

“Ah here we go” Sydney replies, rolling her eyes

“You think because you went to Paris or whatever prestigious tight ass school you know everything? It’s real, happened right after World War 2, Russians got a bunch of people and just made them not sleep for like months, they starting turning into fuckin' aliens and shit-” Richie continues, ignoring Sydney's sly remarks about Richie's facebook usage.

“Richie c’mon, you know that shits made up” You reply

“Don’t matter, didn’t I tell you about my week long bender during college? Starting seeing my great aunt from the corner of my eye, and I swear she is still there-” Richie replies before getting cut off my Carmen calling his name

“Stop distracting my chefs Cousin”

You chuckle, shaking your head as Richie mutters about the fall of democracy and wipe your hands across your towel.

“I’ll go get your sauce Syd” You reply, and she smiles in gratitude as you turn towards the storage room. The cold air of the fridge wakes you up a little, and you rest your head against the door of the storage fridge, sighing in frustration. Talking to Richie was exhausting in itself, and when you were already running only fumes and second hand smoke you felt like it took the last bit of energy you had left.

You grab the container of sauce written with “DO NOT TOUCH” on its front, it's wrapped in cling film, with no lid and you're careful not to drop it everywhere. It wasn’t heavy, per se, just filled to the brim and without careful steps it was close to tipping out. You walk out of the storage room carefully, before turning towards your station.

“Corner!” You yell, twisting around the corner of the kitchen, before you slam straight into a tall body, jerking back and inadvertently spilling the sauce all across the kitchen floor and onto your shoes. You feel it sink into your socks and drip down your apron, eye twitching in frustration as Marcus starts apologising profusely, you ignore him, dropping down to your knees and reaching for paper towels. You start wiping away the sauce, as Marcus drops down to your level and tries to help, you shake our head looking up at him.

“Stop, Marcus, just stop. I can do it” You reply

“But-” Marcus protests

“We don't need two chefs to clean up a one person job, alright? You need to finish prep” You reply, letting the towels soak up the sauce. You grieve for Sydney, not all of it had spilt, but a quarter of a container wasn’t enough to get through the morning rush, let alone the entire day.

You ignore the spilt sauce all over your clothes, you didn’t have time to change now, rushing back to your station before telling Sydney about the spill

“You serious? I thought I could leave early today, got a friend's birthday” Sydney replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You instantly feel guilty, you should've been more careful, and now Sydney would have to pay for it.

“Hey, I got it, let me take that new recipe off your plate. That gives you enough time to get to the party?” You reply

Sydney looks up, rising her eyebrows “No, no I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“Nonsense, I owe you anyway, remember when I had to leave halfway through the morning to get my sister?” You reply, with a tired smile before Sydney wraps her arms around you, you rub a hand across her back. You can’t really feel her arms around you, it’s like all your senses are delayed, you ignore it as you get back to work, now with another task on your plate.

You finish chopping the vegetables after a short while, usually you were the fastest in the house, but today you lagged behind, finally carrying the vegetables to Carmen who looked at you strange, his eyes staring through you, he swallowed like he was going to say something as you walked away, before stopping and continuing stirring the stock on the stove

By the time the Beef opens, you're still elbow deep in work, you've stayed silent most of the time, waving off Marcus’s apology and instead working, not stopping since you started. You skipped breakfast, and you hadn't gotten a chance to eat, and just when you're about to make yourself something, Richie calls your name from the front counter.

You walk towards the front of the Beef, wiping stains on your apron to look a little presentable to the outside world. Richie stands at the register, flicking a pen in his hand, a look of annoyance on his face.

“What's up?” You ask Richie, as a tall man dressed down in a polo sweater and khakis stares down at you in anger. He’s familiar, someone you had served when Richie had to take his smoke break, and he scrutinises you as you smile at him.

That’s the only way you could communicate with these people, any hint of anger and you’d be written of as angry and unable to control your emotions, you lost your last job because you defended yourself anyway.

“This guy said he came in and you made him something he apparently didn't like, but finished anyway” Richie replies, a knowing look passes between you both and you sigh, you don't have time for this.

“Morning Sir, May I ask what’s the problem” You ask politely

“You suggested to me a dish from the menu, alright, YOU, not me, so don't go blaming me for this, and look what I got, not only does it have nuts, which i hate, it's spicy. Way too spicy, I want a refund, NOW” The man replies, seething, his yelling catches the attention of other patrons, and Richie begins to reach under the table for a bat.

“Well, you finished it all so I don’t know what you-” You begin before the man cuts you off loudly

“Do you think I give a shift what you think? Huh? Jesus fucking Christ, see you just need to do what I fucking say, not argue. Give me a refund before I get you fired from this shit hole you dumb stupid-” The man yells, loudly before Carmen's booming voice cuts him off

“I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you” Carmen replies, clenching his jaw in way that told you he was trying to hold back the rage from spilling out

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks

“I own this shit hole you piece of shit, and if you don't get the fuck out of my restaurant I'm going to break every single bone in your face with my bare hands".

“Excuse me?”

Carmen laughs, shaking his head before smiling at the man

“I told you”

Carmen drags the man by his collar, throwing him onto the sidewalk and dragging his body to the alleyway, you fear what he is going to do and Richie raises his eyebrows in astonishment.

“Well shit cousin, you ain't a pussy after all” Richie mutters under his breath

You can faintly hear the sound of splitting skin and the crack of bone, before Carmen storms back into the restaurant, eyeing all the patrons who are following his every move.

“Y'all got that? Anyone mess with my people hear and your walk out on a fucking stretcher” Carmen replies still seething with anger, before Richie claps loudly as Carmen walks back behind the desk.

“Call a fucking ambulance” Carmen replies, rolling his eyes at Richie before he walks towards you, the the tension immediately leaving him as he find your safe and away from that man.

“You alright? He didn't hurt you or anything?” Carmen asks in concern, his eyes darting across your body to see any imagined injuries

“It seems you should be asking him that question” You reply, nudging towards the alley of the Bear, chuckling as you shake your head.

“You didn't have to do that you know, iIcould have-” You start

Carmen looks down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places his hand on you shoulder

“Could've what? He was screaming in your face and I wasn't about to let him think that shit was okay, god, how could you not react?” Carmen replies, looking down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m just so busy, I still- Fuck, i still got to get Cicero's marinade in the fridge, and i need to start on Syd’s broth” You mutter pressing your fingertips to your temples.

“What? You’re doing Sydney’s load as well? Hey, you need to sit down a second” Carmen replies, as you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, with Carmen hot on your heels, asking you to stop and turn to him.

You hear him call your name, but the mountain of tasks that were now even later due to that customer had begun to seize your consciousness.

All you could focus on was the dishes you needed to make and the pain in your temples that had begun to spread down, your vision getting fuzzy around the edges as you try and shake yourself awake.

“Dammit, listen to me! Stop cutting fucking vegetables and listen to me” Carmen yells at you for the first time, twisting your body to face him and you spit out in anger

“What?!”

“What’s gotten into you today?” Carmen replies, yelling

And you don't know why, but that question breaks something in you, and you can't help but let out a short chuckle. Carmen looks down at you in horror, trying to reach for you, to catch you when the inevitable happens and you look at him once before it does.

Before your vision begins to blur and the edges begin to burn like a flame, you try and catch yourself, but it’s too late and you fall into Carmen's arms, wrapped up against his chest as you crash.

Carmen gathers you in his arms, his heart breaking beneath his breasts, holding his sweet girl in his arms as the streams of tears dampen his shirt. The rest of the crew watch on in concern, and Carmen shoes them away as he carries your unconscious body to the office.

“What the fuck Cousin?” Richie calls

“Hey, hey, is she alright? What -what happened?” Sydney replies in horror as she watches Carmen carry you from the kitchen.

“What happened was, ya'll did fuck all when she was practically breaking down trying to finish everyone else's fucking mess. What happened? Are you fucking serious? If i wasn't there, she would’ve fainted into a burning skillet of your fucking vegetables Sydney” Carmen replies, shaking his head, the entire crew goes silent, the only sounds coming from the beeps of ovens and stove tops, and the sizzling of burning food.

Carmen goes quiet, as he assesses your state, there is something unwritten in the way he holds you, and he blinks tight, his face twitching a little as if he had to make sure you were in his arms, the only place he wanted you to be.

“Get back to work” Carmen replies, quietly, a stark contrast to his rage from before, the crew has never seen him like this, his eyes and focus on you, as if he has been seized by this responsibility and dying need to protect you. He can hardly breathe, his arms shaking as he stares down at your sullen and tired face.

“We need-” Marcus starts before Carmen shakes his head

“No, no, enough. Sydney will hold down the fort, this is my responsibility. Get. back to work.” Carmen replies

—-

Carmen wastes no time to gently place your body onto the scuffed office couch, pressing a hand to your head, before reaching for an ice cold container of water, dipping a towel into it before gently pressing it to your forehead.

Carmen shakes his head in anger, he should've seen this coming, he should've noticed from the slump of your shoulder and your one word answers that you were stretching yourself too thin.

Carmen tortures himself as he replays the moments before you fainted into his arms. The way your features twisted into a sob, and the lasts shred of resolve snapped, and you had reached for him, you had reached for him.

You had reached for Carmen when you fell, and something in him broke when he had caught you.

Carmen had been used to his own self-destruction, but as he rested his thumb, rubbing circles and wiping away the tears on your face, he wished himself to change, not just for him, but for you. How could he? How could you be such a poor example to you? This was his own fault, and the reality of that conclusion twists like a knife to his gut.

His sweet girl, his Sunshine, who had thought the needs of this goddamn sandwich shop was more important than her own. You begin to stir in his arms, and the tension and shake of his arms begins to release as you wake up, Carmen eases you into consciousness when you begin to panic.

“Hey hey, I’m right here, you're okay, you're okay” Carmen replies softly, and you squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to understand what had happened and why you felt like your body was filled with lead.

"What, what happened” You reply, looking across the location of the office.

“You fainted, and I carried you to the office because you are not going back into that kitchen” Carmen replies, sitting up from his slumped position.

You stay quiet, confusion lacing your features as you shake your head. You fainted? How did that even happen? You had never fainted in your entire life.

Carmen peers at you, his eyes dancing across your face as your silence frightens him, he wouldn't even recognise you, your usual bubbly, and incredibly chirpy self was not replaced by someone who was so exhausted they couldn’t stay conscious.

“You gotta talk to me baby girl, please, look at me, you can tell me, you can tell me anything” Carmen replies, softly, caressing your hand with his thumb when it begins to shake.

You look up at him, his expression of worry and concern causing your features to twist,

“I um, I’m just a little tired” You reply, the beginning of tears choking you, causing your words to rush out as you try to stop yourself but it is fruitless, and Carmen eyebrows kind of pinch, he kind of frowns a little as he looks at you in that way.

It's all it takes before you sob, and sink into the coach. Carmen gathers you once again in his arms, and scoops your legs so that they lay across his thighs, and your head rests against his collarbone.

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry, Oh honey I am so sorry” Carmen replies, rubbing your back as you let the last of your resolve sink into his chest, the cry of your tears leaving you speechless.

You can’t stop crying, the cup spilling over and making a big whole mess, snot and tears and heartache and exhaustion dirties Carmen's chef whites and you can't help but grip onto him like he is the only thing tethering you to Earth.

You don’t have to tell Carmen then, he knew the second you walked in, and he knows now when you hold him. There's a certain grief Carmen feels when he looks at you and sees himself, and in a way this is for Carmen too.

You sit like this for a while, you and Carmen. Wrapped in his arms as you lay across his lap, long after the tears had run dry, where you are left with hiccups and the soothing touch of Carmen's hand across your back.

It feels like you two are the only people on earth. Everything is Carmen; its all you smell, all you feel against your skin, all you hear as he whispers into you ear. No one dares to step into the office doors, even when an hour ticks by, even when the trickle of customers turns into a downpour and the orders never end, the family knows that you need this, that your health was better than money, or happy customers and fuck all.

Even after you have cried your eyes out, the responsibility of work begins to weigh on your body, you still had so much to do with so little time

“But the marinade, and- and Sydney's” You begin before Carmen cuts you off with a soft squeeze.

“Richie’ll handle it, and if he doesn't Cicero can go fuck himself. You really think I’m going to let that override you right now? Just forget about the kitchen alright, can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Carmen replies

You nod, the burden that had exhausted you to sickness lifted from your shoulders. You look towards the clock and realise the vendors were coming soon to meet with Carmen, something he couldn’t miss.

“The vendors, aren't they-”

“They came in 3 hours early, it's why it took me so long to get to you when that asshole was throwing a fit” Carmen replies, knowing what you were asking for.

You peek at him in question “Well?”

“They signed.” Carmen replies, rolling eyes and smiling at your delighted squeal

“What did I tell you? Carmen Berzatto is more than-” You start before a yawn stretches through you.

“Alright, alright, enough talking from you. When’s the last time you ate?” Carmen asks

You stop and scratch your head, trying to think and you laugh a little when you can’t remember.

“I don't know” You reply

Carmen’s eye twitches, and he smiles down at you before easing you off his thighs and onto the coach.

“What- what are you doing?” You ask, not even trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You already miss the heat of his chest warm against your cheek.

Carmen smiles softly as he looks down at you, threaded a hand through his head as he wipes down the creases on his apron.

“I’m making you something”

“What? No it’s- it’s okay I’ll eat at family” You reply, reaching a hand out to him

Carmen reaches for your palm, pressing a soft kiss on your the skin of your knuckles before reaching down to kiss the top of your head.

“No you need to eat now, alright? You're going to sleep the rest of the day, and then, and then, you're coming back to my place so I can keep an eye on you. You gonna listen to me or protest?” Carmen replies, eyebrow raised as he crosses his arms. His voice drops down an octane, like it was a command, and you have to bite back the desire floating in your stomach at the way he looks down with his eyes all heavy from above.

“Okay, alright, whatever you say Chef” You reply with a smile, and Carmen sinks his teeth into his bottom lip when you say it like that.

“Just wait a sec” Carmen replies, and as he is about to leave you call for him again

“What are you even making, half the ingredients are gone”

“It’s no problem, it’s your recipe anyway” Carmen replies, with a hint of a smile on his face before he leaves the room. It takes you a while, half because you're exhausted and the other half because you're hungry before the realisation hits you that he's made a recipe for you, about you.

You can't help the smile that stretches across your face, goddamnit Carmen Berzatto, and you say you aren't a romantic.

2K notes · View notes

shrenvents · 4 months ago

Text

Competition

Warnings: Smut, M!receiving, penetration (w protection), language, enemies (ish) to lovers

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x reader

Summary: After "Beef's" rebranding as "The Bear," business at your cafe has declined, which left you furious, and that anger only worsened after meeting the restaurant's owner.

Word count: 3.4k

...

Ever since I was young, I've always had this unnecessary, aggressive competitiveness, which has only grown since its opening; The Bear, formerly known as "Beef," has become Chicago's newest hit. Its success has been so impactful, that it's driven away numerous customers, including regulars from my spot, just across the street.

My cafe has been open for years. Its income has been steady from the get-go, and the presence of a certain sandwich shop has never deterred that. Not until said sandwich place suddenly turned into a high-end restaurant. It crossed my mind that it simply shut down due to its infamous unpopularity, but Richie was still waltzing into my cafe to order coffee, as per usual.

So, being curious enough about what had happened to "The Beef," I go visit, expecting to be greeted by the "ever-so-pleasant" owner, Michael. But instead—

"Uh, he died," Neil mutters rather awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers. My eyes expand in complete shock.

"Oh my god, sorry, I had no idea." I grimace at my lack of sensitivity. "It's alright." He shakes his head.

Silence envelops us both before I speak again. "So, um, how come you're still here? If you don't mind me asking?" I grimace again at my poor choice of words, saying, "I swear I'm not trying to be rude." Neil tilts his head in confusion. "Whatta mean?"

"I just assumed you wouldn't be, here, since...?"

"Ah, yeah, Mike left the place to his little bro, Carmy." He waves his arms around, gesturing to the restaurant's interior. "And he did all this, sick right?"

"Yeah... Sick." I mumble with a pout, failing to hide my contempt, but my sour mood goes right over his head.

"Fak!" A man's loud, demanding voice, quiets my rearing thoughts. "Fak! What the fuck are you doing? I need you in here." The voice grows stronger as the chef it belongs to pushes through the kitchen doors. I just about hold my breath at the sight of him. In his all-white get-up, his deep blue eyes have yet to notice me, as he addresses Neil angrily. "The fucking toilet's still broken." He throws his arm up in frustration, "So would you please, get off your ass and fix it!" He commands Neil, and I jump at his dangerous tone. My brows furrow. There was no need for him to shout so rudely, not to mention that it was really bothering me, how he had yet to acknowledge my presence even once. Not only was he stealing my business, but he didn't give a rats-ass about it.

"Shit! Yeah, on it! I was just talking to—"

"Y/n." I announce my name roughly, and his eyes bounce from Neil to me instantly. Appearing startled, he hesitates to extend his palm for a handshake. "Carmy, sorry about him—" Just as he begins waving off Fak, apologizing for his behaviour, I snap.

"No, he was the perfect gentleman, as always," I protest, "I just came to check on the competition." Carmy's brows knit together, and I can feel the vein in my forehead pop out. "I own the cafe across the street," I state plainly, and he slowly nods in recognition. "It was nice to see you, have a great day," I commend with a smile, directed only to Neil. With that, I spin out the door, stomping vigorously towards my shop.

...

The next time I saw Carmy was nearly a month later, on garbage day. He happened to be taking the trash out that evening, exactly when I was. I sigh at how little he struggles to lift several trash bags. Looking away, I huff as I throw the plastic sacks into the massive tin container. After finishing, I stretch out my back, rubbing my hands together. Shortly rolling my head back, I observe the evening sky. I exhale, releasing a breath of cool air from my lips.

My skin pricks as I feel someone watching me and shift my gaze towards "The Bear." I instantly identify the sapphire eyes latched onto me. When I catch Carmy, his eyes fly in every which direction, clearly embarrassed. 'The hell? Okay dickhead, hello to you too.' I think, shaking my head as I go inside, once again, feeling the heat of his stare as I do.

An hour later, I complete the last of my chores before locking up the cafe. Removing the key from the door, I pivot towards my car. However, I stumble when a figure standing not far behind me approaches, causing me to unleash a horrid scream from the depths of my throat. Carmy's eyes widen, evidently apologetic and equally terrified. "Uh sorry! I didn't mean—"

"What the actual fuck, is your problem?" I practically hiss.

"Sorry, I was thinking about saying something before you turned around. But then I second-guessed myself and just did nothing," Carmy blabbers, "I'm really really sorry."

"Okay okay." I put up my hands in surrender to stop his rambling. It's rather disarming, after our first meeting, hearing how he sounds so... Timid. "Sorry." He mumbles once more, head hung low.

"You're good," I reassure him with a sigh, to cover up an unexpected giggle. "Um, so what're you doing, here?"

"Oh!" He jolts upright and his eyes shoot from the ground to mine. "I just wanted to uh, talk."

"You 'wanted to talk'?" I question, a brow arching in disbelief.

"Uh, yeah," Carmy replies with uncertainty.

Folding my arms, I sigh, "About?"

"Oh, um, just about, how I acted when we met," Carmy scowls at the memory. "I should've introduced myself way sooner, and not in such a—"

"Rude way," I interject, which seems to be a common occurrence between us.

"Heard." He huffs out what sounds like a laugh, "Exactly that." I then shift uncomfortably under his intense watch. "It's alright, I didn't exactly intend to be gracious myself," I utter, returning a similar, shy smile.

"No, no." His smile widens, "You were..." He and his gaze trail off, lowering to the concrete. "'Were'?" I repeat, imploring him to continue.

"Great." Carmy finishes, peering up again. His eyes appear somewhat different, and I feel an unfamiliar chill slide down my spine. "Wow." My eyebrows rise. "'Great,' that's a, really, kind of you," I splutter with a chuckle. Carmy joins in, laughing at himself.

After a beat of silence and a few stolen glances at one another, Carmy speaks up. "I know I should've said it a while ago, but I'd like to be on good terms, rather than 'competition'." My sight hones in on his active hands as they switch between fiddling with his back pockets and shaking. "I'd like that too," I murmur, scratching the back of my head. "If only you'd stop stealing my customers," I smirk.

"Oh?" He smiles playfully and tilts his head, "So that's how it's gonna be," he jests, laughing again.

"Hmmm," I hum in confirmation, slightly troubled by how flirtatious I'm being. But damn, the way he's always looking at me —it's throwing me off...

Flushed, I conclude our conversation, "I'll see you around," then walk to my car. He almost, absentmindedly, wanders alongside me. "Yeah, see you."

While I unlock my car, Carmy's already one step ahead of me, hauling the car door open. I thank him in a whisper as I bend into the front seat, brushing past him, and he tenses. He then mumbles my name with a "Goodnight," and I sit in silence, long after he leaves, breathless.

...

The next day, I feel giddy at the prospect of seeing Carmy. It's ridiculous, considering he was my neighbour, and I was bound to see him. Though I've actually had to refrain from seeking him out.

However, that afternoon, through the glass of both our eateries, we see one another, pause, smile slowly, and head back to work.

From that point on, that sort of thing became a routine. Every day that week, I saw him for at least 50 seconds. It was even better knowing he was a chef, so the likelihood of him seeing him out front was low, but still, each time he'd be there.

Come Sunday, I couldn't delay things any longer. It was a little disheartening that he hadn't come over himself or even thought to come and ask for my number.

Thus, I knew I had to be the one to make a move. So, after closing earlier than usual, I saunter across the street. Inside, Neil greets me with an ample smile. "Hey Neil," I wave. He virtually shouts my name in return. "Hey! What you in for?" He asks cheerfully.

"I was hoping for some dinner," I chuckle. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and the anticipation is killing me. While Neil leads me to a table, my eyes don't leave the kitchen's entrance.

Neil takes my order, and my ears attentively listen for those few moments, when the restaurant's crowd temporarily quiets down, and I hear his assertive voice filter through the walls.

...

As delicious as my meal is, I can't stop my anxiety from getting the best of me. It's plausible Neil didn't bother letting Carmy know that I was here. But I'm nearly vibrating with dread, waiting for him to materialize.

Eventually, it's closing time and the herd of patrons leave. I take the opportunity to call Neil over. "Hey, I was just wondering if Carmy was in? Just wanna say hello, be neighbourly and all," I beam innocently.

"Course!" He winks but doesn't move to get Carmy. So, after a long beat staring into Fak's clueless eyes (bless him), I come up with something dicey. "Could you let him know that my food's uncooked, and I'm very, very upset," I express sharply, biting back a grin.

"O-okay?" Neil stutters, confusion and distress written across his features. I suppress my laugh with my palm.

Five minutes later, I hear a loud and hostile "what" seep through the walls. My attempts to muffle my laughter are stumped when Carmy abruptly bursts through the doors. He freezes when he sees me, and I watch the doors rapidly swing behind him. I awkwardly raise my hand in hello, and I swear he gulps.

"I was joking, Carmy." Now growing nervous, I tear my eyes away from him, onto my clear plate and see him move towards me from my peripheral. "It was, pretty good actually," I remark, downplaying the truth.

As I open my mouth to fill the silence, I peek up to see Carmy sitting right in front of me, and I lose my train of thought. It's as though we're on a date, and that's the most normal thing in the world, something we've done countless times before.

"I was planning on coming to see you after work." His sheepish, yet deep timbre makes me shudder.

"Beat you to it then?" I smirk smugly.

"Didn't we say this wasn't a rivalry?" He smirks back, and my stomach forms knots. "Nothing wrong with some friendly competition," I retort, and his reply is a simple, pleasant smile.

"Well Chef, I'm sorry to hear you're closing soon," I sigh. Still smiling, he raises his brows, "Because?"

"Because the food was decent, but I'm still quite hungry." I proclaim teasingly, shrugging. He chuckles lowly, "We can't have that."

...

Now sitting on Carmy's kitchen stool while he cooks me an omelet on his stove, I inspect his backside. The muscles tense and shift as he moves expertly through the room.

"I hope this suits your refined palette," Carmy remarks with a certain ease that he didn't have before. He pushes a plate towards me, and I reel at how domestic this all feels. I lick my lips in excitement as the delicious, potent smell of the dish consumes my senses.

Taking a bite, I withhold a moan, and close my eyes so he doesn't catch them rolling to the back of my head. Swallowing, I open my lids to see Carmy's eyes studying me, expectingly awaiting a reaction. "It's alright," I state monotonously.

Eyes and mouth expanding, he smacks his hands on his chest, overlapping them over top of his heart, like he's been shot, and a laugh escapes me. "I make it better," I contest.

"I don't doubt that," he responds without a hint of condescension, and I gape at him before giggling nervously, eyeing my omelette.

"So, what would satisfy your elite tastes?" His words may be rather suggestive, but his tone is short and reserved. Glancing up at his expression, I note the way he sluggishly runs his tongue over his bottom lip. His view then trains over my features, lingering on my lips...

Not giving him a chance to refocus on anything but my mouth, I lunge at his. Capturing his lips with mine, I hear a fumble of noises leave him pitifully. The sounds morph into a mixture of bewilderment and a cavernous groan. His hesitancy is brief as one of his hands curves behind my head, into my hair, while the other gropes my waist, bunching up my shirt in a tight fist. His groaning becomes more brazen, and I devour every single one.

Our tongues fight each other, and our hips wrestle with the kitchen island that separates us. Determined to feel more of him, I pull away from his wretched kiss. He instinctively chases after me, but my hands firmly press against his chest, which seems to bring his attention to my eyes. He more or less whines to himself.

I lick my swollen lips, holding eye contact in hopes it would help him understand what I wanted.

His grasp moves from my torso, to hold my hand, tugging me towards what I assume is his bedroom. As he maneuvers around the counter, I decide that I just can't wait. So, when we pass his living room area, I drag him back, and to his surprise, shove him onto his couch.

His back hits the cushions and he releases a grunt. Immediately, I straddle his hips and he makes haste to grip my hips, pressing me further onto his crotch. I whimper nosily, and it's his turn to hum back. "You're so..."

"Great?" I quip.

"Beautiful, is what I was gonna say— should've said." His baby blues melt me to my core. The intimacy of his look and words, somehow mean so much more, than everything we've just done.

After a short break of just breathing in each other, I press my lips to his gently, pecking them. This seems to snap him out of whatever trance he's under, as a peck is clearly not enough.

His hefty grip on my hips increases and encourages me to lean closer. His mouth dictates my every move and sound, and I wriggle above him. "Carmy," I whine desperately, begging for more.

He lets go of me to strip, sitting upright to remove his white-collar shirt. I moan at the sight, before copying him, working my shirt off. When I struggle, he rips the cotton over my head, throwing it to the floor in one swift motion. His mouth quickly draws me back in, nibbling my bottom lip.

Breaking away, I whisper, "As good as you taste, this isn't enough to satisfy me, Chef." Peering up at me through hooded eyes, he looks dazed but nods nonetheless.

My breath hitches as Carmy rears me onto my back, moving us so that his larger frame hovers over my smaller one. He unbuckles his belt clumsily and glides his jeans down his stocky thighs. I chew my lip as I gawk at the impressive bulge tucked into his black briefs. When he reaches for my bra clip, he freezes. "Shit," he exclaims airily, shoving a hand into his curly locks. I flinch, stammering, "W-what?"

"Condom," he states flatly.

"You ran out?" I joke, brows lifting.

"No, I don't do this often," he discloses, ears reddening. Silence eats up the space, and allows us to register what Carmy so bluntly, admitted. Not that I minded at all.

"I have had sex before—"

"I know," I squeal, guffawing at his prompt confession. "I think I have some in my purse." I soothe, encircling his bicep with my index finger. He lets out a sigh of relief, and I giggle like a schoolgirl when he springs to his feet, racing towards my bag.

Carmy's footsteps thud against the floorboards as he races away, half-naked. I fasten my lips together to prevent an extensive grin. When he reenters the room, I lift my body weight onto my forearms for support, cruising my eyes over his body, spying the condom between his dense fingers.

When he straddles my legs, meaning to resume where he left off, an impulse consumes my thoughts. Wordlessly, I place my palms on his thighs, spreading my digits atop his sturdy legs, to push him back. Then, kneeling on the floor in front of Carmy, I smile devilishly. I feel him trembling and the whole scene feels so erotic.

Looking up, I catch his gaze, as it adorns me, in a sort of awe. "There's something I have been craving, Chef," I murmur whilst running my tongue over my teeth. Carmy shudders as my fingers weave into his waistband, tugging them down.

While he's undressing, his briefs hanging on his chaves, I admire how his eyes flutter shut, and he mumbles nonsense to himself.

His cock engulfs my sight and brushes my cheek a bit. Carmy sucks in a sharp breath, tilting his head to watch me. Despite being taken aback by his size, I begin to stoke him. He gasps and his stomach constricts immediately.

Picking up my pace after a few pumps, I kiss his tip and his thighs shake. "Christ," he mewls. I take his noisy reaction as an encouragement to surge forward, wrapping my tongue and lips over him, and driving his cock to the back of my throat. "Fuck!" Carmy shouts.

As he gets closer to the edge, his words of appraisal jumble together in fits of, "yes, like that," "faster," and some "perfect" comments, among many other things I can't comprehend anymore. I'm lost in his touch, which tangles my hair, clasping it tightly. Before Carmy finishes, he cups my face and yanks himself out of my mouth.

Eyes shut and face twisted in both euphoria and frustration, he grumbles, "Fuck, I said I didn't wanna cum yet."

I simply smack my lips together, savouring his taste. Carmy appears stunned as holds my face. I smirk wickedly and a short puff of air abandons him.

"Can I fuck you?" He asks, and his jagged voice makes his question sound like an order, and I love it. "Please," I pant and he kisses my forehead before dragging me back on the sofa, underneath him again.

Positioning himself, Carmy rips open the condom with his teeth and rolls it over himself. He sucks in a coarse breath as he pushes into my entrance, and I do the same. He moans my name and I choke on a sob as he bottoms out, in one, mind-numbing jolt. His hands tighten on my hips, pressing me into the couch as I arch upwards. We both moan nonsensically, adoring the friction and how seamlessly we fit together.

Moving synchronously, we fight for our highs, grinding into a rhythm that makes us gasp in pleasure. With my name on his lips, they seize mine, and his tongue laps every corner of my mouth, as he slowly takes control. I writhe under him and he thrusts harder, hitting all the right places. Shortly, my body grows almost limp, unable to keep up with the tide of desire above, bucking into me.

As I reach my end, he keeps going, simultaneously kissing and nipping my neck, surely leaving numerous marks, but I don't care. He just feels too good, deep inside, strong and brutal.

I cry out as core contracts, clamping down on him, and making his untamed movements stutter. I cum hard, gasping as tremors rack through me. Soon after, Carmy whimpers, craning his neck back as cums inside. With a lengthy sigh that eases into a loud moan, he holds us still. He dips his sweat-covered forehead into the crook of my neck and hums in satisfaction.

After a few minutes of catching our breath, and enjoying the weight of his body over top of mine, he heaves himself up to kiss my mouth once more.

"Go out with me, please," he urges politely as if he isn't still inside of me. I laugh lightly, then tense in surprise when my core clenches over his cock, and he winces as well.

Exhaling steadily, I breathe, "I would love to."

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miley1442111 · 7 months ago

Text

tortured poets department masterlist

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

fortnight (featuring finnick odair)

tortured poets department (featuring spencer reid)

my boy only breaks his favourite toys (featuring aaron hotchner)

down bad (featuring jj maybank)

so long, london (featuring robert 'bob' floyd)

but daddy i love him (featuring rafe cameron)

fresh out the slammer (featuring aaron hotchner)

flordia!!! (featuring bucky barnes)

guilty as sin? (featuring aaron hotchner)

who's afraid of little old me? (featuring spencer reid)

i can fix him (no i really can)- (featuring carmen berzatto)

loml (featuring peter parker)

i can do it with a broken heart (featuring sydcarmy)

the smallest man that ever lived (featuring derek morgan)

the alchemy (featuring jake 'hangman' seresin)

clara bow (featuring emily prentiss)

the black dog (featuring spencer reid)

imgonnagetyouback (featuring bradley 'rooster' bradshaw)

the albatross (featuring steve rogers)

chloe or sam or sophie or marcus (featuring sydney adamu)

how did it end? (featuring aaron hotchner)

so high school (featuring spencer reid)

i hate it here (featuring luca from the bear)

thank you aiMee (featuring natasha 'phoneix' trace)

i look in people's windows (featuring robert 'bob' floyd)

the prophecy (featuring aaron hotchner)

cassandra (featuring rafe cameron)

peter (featuring pope heyward)

the bolter (featuring spencer reid)

robin (featuring carmen berzatto)

the maunscript (featuring bucky barnes)

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

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blueeyedheizer · 4 months ago

Note

Can you please write a smut where Cassie is being a brat flirting with other people in front of the reader because the reader hasn’t been giving her the attention she wants. The reader snaps and brings her to the nearest secluded space and ruins her

she's getting on your last nerve.

you watch from your slumped position on the couch, jaw tightened in irritation as cassie openly flirts with some guy she's only just met. her hands are a little too touchy for your liking, brushing against his arm while she laughs at his dumb jokes and smiles at him for longer than necessary.

you know she's doing it on purpose just to rile you up. she's been begging for your attention all day, acting all fussy and bratty whenever you told her to wait and behave.

her eyes flicker towards you every so often, a mischievous glint in them as she gauges your reaction. the sight of it sends a fresh wave of irritation through you, and you can feel your patience wearing thin.

you keep your eyes on her as you finally decide to get up and close the distance, your heart pounding in your chest. with a practiced smile, you slide a hand across her lower back as you reach her, the touch making her tense for a split second. your hand glides upward until it tangles in her hair, and you give a gentle tug—not hard enough for anyone to notice, but just enough for her to feel it.

"having fun, princess?" you don't wait for a response, your fingers tightening in her hair, nearly tugging her head back. The guy she’s flirting with glances your way, oblivious to the silent exchange happening right in front of him. “I think it’s time we head out,” you say, the underlying command in your tone unmistakable.

she's got you right where she wanted you.

she gives the guy a quick, dismissive smile before turning her full attention to you, letting you practically drag out of the building and to your car. you open the backseat door for her, watching as she slides in and tucks her legs comfortably behind the front seat.

but you've got other plans.

"what do you think you're doing?" you mumble, tugging at her thigh so she's facing you again, her legs dangling off the car. your hand wraps around her throat and you squeeze, settling between her legs.

Cassie looks up at you, her eyes wide as she props herself up on her forearms, her breath hitching slightly as she nervously glances around the parking lot. her eyes follow your movements are you crouch down, her legs on either side of your shoulders.

"wha- what are you doing?" she stammers.

"you wanna be a whore so bad, might as well treat you like one." your fingers hook around the hem of her panties underneath her dress and you swiftly slide them down, nearly ripping the fabric off her. "keep your legs open. don't try to run away. if you do, i'll bring you back inside and fuck you in front of everyone so you can learn your fucking lesson."

your arms hook around her thighs and cassie barely has time to proceed what's happening when she feels the hot press of your tongue against her pussy, followed by a harsh suck. she gasps, one hand flying to clutch onto your hair and tug — hips lifting off the seat to grind against your mouth. she doesn't realize how loud she's being until you're pulling away and spanking her clit.

she cries out, her legs closing around your head.

"What did I just say?" you snap, roughly grabbing her jaw before slapping her cheek, making her gasp at the impact. Cassie mutters an apology, her legs opening again.

“You like pushing my buttons and pissing me off, don’t you?” you murmur, getting up to press your lips onto hers. You start patting her swollen clit, the taps firm and quick. She's panting and whimpering, muttering out apologies, her face flushed red from a mixture of both embarrassment and need as you kiss down her neck and find her entrance, immediately slipping two fingers in.

you start fingering her furiously, muttering all sort of degrading words as she soaks your hand in her arousal.

she's so close, you can feel how hard she starts to clench around your fingers, how uncontrollably her thighs start to quiver...and when she starts begging for you not to stop, when she's right on the edge of coming — you deny her the orgasm she's been craving, withdrawing your fingers to spank her clit again, hard.

"aww, you thought I'd give you what you want, just like that?" you coo, a smirk playing on your lips as you watch her squirm and sob. "that's too bad, baby. sluts like you don't get to come so easily."

#cassie howard x reader #cassie howard x fem!reader #cassie howard imagine #cassie howard fanfic #cassie howard smut #sydney sweeney fanfic #sydney sweeney smut #euphoria hbo #euphoria x reader

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thecapricunt1616 · 2 months ago

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Promptoober 2024 Masterlist!

Promptober Calendar

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝐬𝐭 - 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝐧𝐝 - 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 ; 𝐋𝐢𝐩 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝐫𝐝 - 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝟏 𝐁𝐞𝐝 ; 𝐒𝐲𝐝𝐱𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟒𝐭𝐡 - 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ; 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝐭𝐡 - 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 ; 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟔𝐭𝐡 - 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 ��𝐢𝐧𝐤 ; 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟕𝐭𝐡 - 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝; 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟖𝐭𝐡 - 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟗𝐭𝐡 - 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 ; 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 - 𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧; 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 - 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 - 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤 ; 𝐋𝐢𝐩 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑𝐭𝐡-𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞;𝐊𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐕𝐨𝐧 𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒𝐭𝐡 - 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 ; 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟓𝐭𝐡 - 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔𝐭𝐡 - 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝; 𝐋𝐢𝐩 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕𝐭𝐡 - 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩 ; 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡 - 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚; 𝐋𝐢𝐩 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟗𝐭𝐡 - 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝐭𝐡-𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲;𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟏𝐬𝐭 - 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐞 ; 𝐋𝐢𝐩 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐𝐧𝐝 - 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 ; 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑𝐫𝐝 - 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ; 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟒𝐭𝐡 - 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 ; 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓𝐭𝐡 - 𝐎𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 ; 𝐋𝐢𝐩 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟔𝐭𝐡-𝐏𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠;𝐊𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐕𝐨𝐧 𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐱𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡 - 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖𝐭𝐡 - 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐳𝐞 ; 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟗𝐭𝐡 - 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ; 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟎𝐭𝐡 - 𝐇𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ; 𝐋𝐢𝐩 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟏𝐬𝐭-𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 ; 𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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ariisheresstuff · 1 year ago

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THIS is SOOOO Richie when he’s watching yours and Camry’s daughter. Like y’all are out for a small date night and Richie is watching her maybe with Sydney to keep more company by and they are just joking around until she starts crying 💀

Richie and Sydney were babysitting Kennedy while you and Carmen were out on a little dinner date. Kennedy ALWAYS loved when her Uncle Richie would watch her. Kennedy was sitting on Sydney’s lap while Richie was sitting across from them by the dinner table. Now with Kennedy being around Richie so much she does inhabit his traits (mostly the cursing).

“Uncle Richie you’re a bitch!” Kennedy said out of nowhere with a smile making Sydney gape at Richie who just had wide eyes. Sydney tried to hide in her laughter as Richie started to smirk.

“You’re really gonna take that Richie?” Sydney said making Kennedy laugh.

“Well jokes on you kid because I’m telling on you! I’m telling your mommy and daddy when they come back! HAHA! You’re going to jail! Put your hands up!” Richie said in a deep voice like he was commanding Kennedy like a police officer. Sydney couldn’t help but laugh, but Kennedy’s smile dropped.

“J-jail? No! I-I I don’t w-wanna go to jail!! WAHHHH!!!!” Kennedy starting to wail making Richie wheeze in laughter while Sydney started to panic not thinking this was gonna upset poor Kennedy.

“Richie! Okay, it’s okay! Hey, Richie was just joking Kennedy, you’re not going to jail. I promise you. Your Uncle is just being stupid.” Sydney cooed to Kennedy who was still crying.

“Oh come on Kennedy, I was just teasing with you.” Richie joined in on the comfort but only for the front door to open.

“We’re home!” Carmen announced making Sydney and Richie freeze. Kennedy still crying.

“D-daddy! Mommy!” Kennedy said between sobs as she got off of Sydney’s lap to run to her parents.

You and Carmen smiled seeing your daughter only for them to drop once you noticed she was crying.

“Kenzie girl, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Carmen immediately picked her up trying to comfort his daughter, he hated seeing her so upset.

“Did you hurt yourself baby?” You asked her as you searched for any cuts or blood. She shook her head as she hiccuped while Carmen wiped away the tears on her face and kissing her damp cheek.

“U-Uncle Richie told me I-I was going to jail!” She said with a pouted lip, you can Carmen looked at each other with a small smile.

“Oh did he? That’s not very nice, is it bubs?” You said as she laid her head down on her father’s shoulder while Carmy rubbed her back. Just out of nowhere Richie and Sydney walked into the living room.

“Cousin, she told me I was a bitch so I told her the cops were coming to get her for saying that but she knows I joke like that!” Richie said with a frown making you laugh a bit but making Carmen roll his eyes.

“Did you say a bad word Kennedy?” He asked her as she looked at you before hiding her face clearly meaning she did. You sighed with a smile before looking at Carmen who shook his head with a light smile.

“Kennedy, me and mommy aren’t mad at you. But you know you can’t say those things especially to Uncle Richie.” Carmen said that last part while glaring at Richie who gave him the bird.

Kennedy put her head up as she looked at Richie, she sniffled. “Uncle Richie, m’sorry I said that to you.” You couldn’t help but awe at that. Richie smiled before walking up to her and taking Kennedy out of Carmen’s arms and into his .

“Oh I could never stay mad at you Kenz, the best niece in the world.” He threw her up in the air making her squeal as she smiled and laughed with her Uncle.

You and Carmen smiled before walking over to Sydney who had her arms crossed, you looked behind you making sure Richie and your daughter weren’t paying attention.

“So did you record it by any chance?” You said in a whisper making Carmen look at you with a frown.

“I actually did.” Sydney smirked before pulling out her phone to send it to you.

MasterList

Tag list: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

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heavenbarnes · 8 months ago

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I’m no good on my own

Sydney Adamu x female reader

Warnings/contains: swearing, mentions of knives, syd is still an awkward-munch, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, fingering, syd is gentle when you cum, defiling carmy’s desk, blasphemy

Part one: Already better for knowing you

I’m so glad everyone wants to fuck Sydney as much as I do, means I get to write stuff like this. Maybe one day I won’t write her as an awkward-munch but today is not that day

Yeah, completely fucked.

Sydney is a good chef, a great chef even. She’s calm and methodical, balanced and driven. She’d even pride herself in her ability to teach.

But that was before the greatest challenge of her career.

You.

Carmy had been right to have that smarmy little grin on his face when he wished her luck with training her new little sous chef.

This was fucking torture.

If Sydney was good teacher, you were an even better student. Bright-eyed and attentive, eager and willing.

She could almost always find you right on her shoulder, watching her hands as they shifted around the kitchen bench. It was like a warm glow of sunlight, prickling over her skin and making the hairs on her arms stand up.

It should’ve been what she wanted. It shouldn’t be an issue. An attentive sous who followed her every word and was so quick to please?

To Sydney, that was nearly lethal.

“And that’s what it should look like plated.” Syd ran the corner of her cloth along the rim of the plate, sliding it in front of you.

Eagerly pulling the plate closer, you leant in to savour the aroma permeating from the dish. “God, Sydney.”

The way you spoke on the exhale, like her name was a sigh that you’d been holding in all day. It made her stand up straighter, the tips of her ears running hot.

Taking a spoon from the basket, you managed to scoop the perfect bite on your first go. Sydney braced for impact, the sounds and face you’d make when you tried her food.

Lips closing around the spoon, eyes shutting gently as you let all flavours roll across your tongue. Your eyes fluttered open as you swallowed the mouthful, immediately meeting Syd’s expectant gaze.

“I haven’t taste something this good since the institute days,” You hummed, corner of your mouth turning up. “Since you last cooked for me.”

Sydney couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were standing in the dingy little kitchen of her even dingier apartment.

It wasn’t as if you cared what her home looked like, you just looked so damn pleased to be there. You looked even happier as you glanced over at the pan she was handling.

“I don’t know why the rest of us try when there’s you, Syd.” You remarked over the lip of your glass.

She hadn’t let you lift a finger, even pouring your drink for you whilst she made you park up at the counter. You watched the way her cheeks rose gently at your comment before she straightened up.

“It’s not a competition you know?” Sydney snorted as she took the pan off the heat. “Besides, you’re a fantastic chef.”

It was your turn to feel a pit of shyness in your stomach, not all that common for you but coming from Sydney- that was something else.

By the time she’d plated up your meal, your mouth was borderline watering. Her whole apartment had filled with the scent and seeing it before you was enough to set your teeth on edge.

“Well, tell me what you think.”

She leaned on the counter in front of you, elbows propped up to rest her chin in her hands. She hadn’t even thought to fix herself a plate, as if her whole reason for cooking had been you.

And it had been.

As you ran the fork through the food, Sydney didn’t miss the way you’d managed to heap almost all the best parts of the dish. Bringing the fork to your bottom lip, you pressed against it gently to test the heat.

Eyes fixed straight on Syd’s, you took the bite and let it consume you. Heat rising in your chest and swelling throughout your whole body. She cooked like the act had been invented for her.

You didn’t mean to moan, honestly. You’d always thought it was a little weird when people did that but it was an honest autonomous response to the food.

“Jesus, Syd,” You tried your best to politely cover your mouth as you spoke. “I’ve never had anything like this before.”

And you hadn’t since. Not until that moment, not until it was as if you were back in your institute days and Sydney was pretending to know less than she did just as an excuse to talk to you longer.

“Do you remember when I asked you how to fillet a fish? I’d come to you with a bandaged finger and an apron covered in scales.”

Sydney had no idea why she’d said it, why she’d even spoken the memory into existence. The moment she saw your face light up, the sound of your laugh- she realised why.

“As if thee Sydney Adamu couldn’t fillet a fucking fish.” Your eyes crinkled in the corners as you relived the moment. “I ran the knife long enough for you to freak out and take over.”

Thinking back on the memory, Syd hadn’t even realised that you’d seen right through her. That’s how away with it she was. “You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You couldn’t stop laughing and Sydney couldn’t stop drawing that sound out of you.

“And give up the opportunity to have you at my station? I don’t think so!”

Her heart was going to stop. Her heart was going to stop and you were going to have to give her CPR and maybe this would be a cute story for the grandkids one day but right now it was mortifying.

The mortifying ordeal of being known.

“You-“

“Wanted you as much as you wanted you? I thought I’d made that blindingly obvious?”

Could you imagine what would happen if Sydney got out of her own way?

It might look a lot like this, her moving stacks of paper off Carmy’s desk so she could sit you down on the edge of it. Her lips pressed so gently against yours, tongue just and only breaching your mouth.

“Syd,” You whined against her, hands reaching out for her hips. “I’m not going to break.”

Translates into, kiss me like you fucking mean it. With a please tacked on the end, she knows you well.

Slotting between your thighs, Syd pulled you in closer and finally allowed herself to have what she’d always wanted. Her teeth nipped at the flesh of your bottom lip, tongue forcing its way against yours.

It earned her a moan straight into her mouth, your fingers reaching under her chefs whites to press against her stomach. The heat of your hands on her bare skin nearly turned her inside out.

Sydney moved her own hands under your shirt, fingers reaching for the button of your trousers. One hand reaching for the side of her neck, the other sliding further up her chest, you lifted your hips to give her more access.

Still swilling around in her own head, Syd took your sudden movement to heart. “Are you okay? Did you want me to stop?”

Your eyes caught hers, pulling her face down a little more, bringing your lips millimetres from her own. “Sydney.”

“Y-yeah?”

One kiss. Firm, tongue pushing her mouth open and swiping along her lower teeth.

Another kiss. Hand moving up her to cup her chest, the other tightening behind her neck.

One more for good measure. Hips bucking into hers, rolling along the seam of her trousers.

“If I want you to stop, you’ll know.” Matter of fact, no questions asked. “Right now, I want you to fuck me.”

Sydney was good at doing what she was told, immediately dropping to her knees with a firm grip on the waistband of your pants.

They hung off one ankle, your other leg slung off her shoulders as she dragged you down the desk a little further. You felt paper shift underneath you as you leaned back on an elbow.

“Carmy will kill us if he finds out.” You snorted a laugh as you ran a soft hand across Syd’s face.

You saw her eyebrows raise, quick comment before her face disappeared between your thighs. “He’ll live.”

She stole another laugh out of you, replacing it with a gasped breath as you felt her tongue running up the seam of you.

Your hips immediately lifted towards her face, hand wrapping around the back her head to pull her even closer. Sydney was more than accepting, lips pursing around your clit as her tongue got to work.

Eyes rolling back, head dropping back between your shoulders as her mouth worked absolute magic. The sounds she drew from you were more than debauched.

“Fucking hell, Syd-“

She cut you off as her lips closed in, suckling against the sensitive bud as your hips picked up a steady rhythm rolling against her mouth.

Those skilled hands, the ones you’d spent days watching were now wrapped tightly around your thighs, pulling them to close around her head.

Sydney was trying to forget where you began and she ended.

You felt movement, like she was shuffling. Tilting your head, you caught a glimpse of how she was knelt, finding that she’d sat herself on the heel of her foot.

Sydney was getting herself off on the taste of you.

Your stomach was doing fucking flips, the fireworks that’d start off when you tasted a meal of hers were dialled up to 11.

You’d never had anything like this before.

The way your hips were grinding down, the heady moans and whines that were filling the tiny office, the firm grip on the edge of the desk. You took your hand off Syd’s head and closed it over one of her hands.

She released your thigh to intertwine her fingers with yours, palms pressed tight together as her tongue ran down to your entrance to breach inside.

Your back arched up, papers crinkling beneath you as you writhed under her touch. “Syd- you’re gonna’ make me cum.”

All of a sudden, everything was gone. Her hot mouth against your core disappeared. Her hands on you faded into nothing.

Just as you felt tears of frustration pricking your eyes, mouth dropping open to ask just what the fuck she thought she was doing- when everything went speeding back to life.

Two skilled fingers, skill you’d known for a very long time (just never like this) suddenly ran along the split of you.

Gathering wetness as she went, Sydney immediately slipped inside of you and crooked her fingertips up until they were right on that spot behind your mound.

Your hands flew up to grip the fabric of her whites, pulling her in until your lips were pressed back against hers.

You could taste yourself, hot and raw against your own tongue as Sydney worked her fingers into you. Hearing her mumble against your mouth, you pulled back to listen.

“I want to feel it- want to feel you when you cum.”

Rolling your hips into her hand, you gripped onto her tight as you buried your face in the crook of her neck. Your teeth gently nipped at the skin of her throat as she pressed the heel of her hand to your clit.

Your stomach was coiling tight, the added pressure was driving you straight to edge in screaming colour.

Over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears, you could hear the gentle little coos from Sydney, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Just like that.”

“There you go, sweet girl.”

“You’re doing so good for me.”

And that was enough.

From the moment you were paired together in the institute, just once- once was enough. All you’d ever wanted to hear from that point onwards was praise, Syd’s praise.

Your face firmly pressed into the crook of her shoulder, cunt clenching tight around Sydney’s fingers as you felt your orgasm pulling you under.

Fingers still working you through the waves, her other arm wrapped around your back and pulled you flush against her.

As your senses started to come back, you could feel her hand gently rubbing between your shoulder blades. Lips pressed to the top of your head as you felt yourself shaking gently against her.

You felt the emptiness of her hand moving from between your legs, eyes opening in time to see her lips close around her two glistening fingers.

There was an unmistakable heat in your cheeks, watching her eyes flutter shut and a groan work its wait out of her chest. For a moment, you knew how she felt when you taste her food.

As you reached out to get your hands on the waistband of her trousers, you felt a hand close around your wrist. Nearly, you could nearly argue but you felt yourself being gently pushed back to your earlier position.

“I wanna feel this one on my face,” Sydney instructed, getting back onto her knees. “I’ve only got 3 years and 8 months to make up for.”

#sydney adamu x reader #sydney adamu x female reader #sydney adamu x fem!reader #sydney adamu smut #sydney adamu blurb #sydney adamu drabble #the bear smut #the bear drabble #the bear blurb #the bear x reader

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ncis-yp · 8 months ago

Text

Saint Tony (Tony DiNozzo x reader) part 1; fluff

You’d been working at NCIS for a few months. Gibbs saw you working for the police department. You were a detective that wasn’t taken seriously. You made observations and figured out things that the other cops didn’t, but you were so young, you were a girl. Nonetheless, Gibbs asked you to come work for him. And that’s how you met Tony.

You: I’m going drinking tonight with the girls.

You respond to his text. You hadn’t been talking to Tony for a long time, had only been friends since you started at NCIS.

Tony: Oh fun! What bar?

He replies he wasn’t gonna show up. He just wants to make sure you’re safe

You: Stevie’s

You say, a dc famous western themed bar/club known for its really good drinks and music but terrible violence. You had been fine in your past experiences, so you didn’t think much of it.

Tony: Taking a gun?

You: Mmm I thought about it but not tonight

Tony: Have a DD?

You: No we’re taking an Uber.

Tony: Well call me when you get home, or if you need anything

You: Okay thanks dad 😂. You joke.

Tony: Wow I care about you and all I get is sarcasm? Not even a promise of a kiss

You: Aww poor Tony… baby needs some attention.

Tony: I mean, I wouldn’t mind having you to myself tonight

You: Ooo maybe maybe.

Being with Tony seemed like such an amazing idea. As much as you wanted to play around before giving in, you were wanting to dive head first into him.

Tony: Well go have fun with those girls! Call me. Be safe (y/n).

The disappointment settled in as he changed into some pj pants and his hoodie. He heated up some leftovers and turned on a movie.

Time skip~

Tony was asleep in bed. Meanwhile a night at the bar turned to be you starving, drunk, and desperately searching for your phone. When you finally found it, you called Tony.

“DiNozzo” he says sleepily into the receiver end.

“Hey Tony. Would you mind picking me up?” You ask. Your words slurring into each other.

“Yea, I’m on my way” Tony sat up and swung his legs out of bed. Grabbing his keys and wallet he left the house. 15 minutes later Tony’s Mustang was running idle in front of the bar. You walked to the entrance where Tony was standing. You laid in his arms as he leaned against the door of his car, laughing.

“Tony Tony Tony” you say.

“(Y/n)” he laughed. “Let’s get you in the car”

“Okay okay” you were giggling. Body shaking against Tony’s as you did. Tony was smiling. You looked so beautiful. A black satin dress, your hair was messy now, a little mascara under your eyes, but that lipstick was unmoved. He helped you into the car, running to the other side to get in.

You had your head on his shoulder. He could feel your light breathing on his neck. While waiting at a red light he tried to look down at you, he found your eyes looking at him. You moved your body, a drunk hand lazily moving around his neck. He moved his face to looking at you completely as you laid your lips on his.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” You whispered between kisses.

“Yes” he responds as he began driving to his apartment. Your hands all over his body. “(Y/n)” he moaned. He slowly started losing his composure. Dick hardening as he speedily drove to his apartment.

Tony was willing to admit that he wanted to have sex with you. But not drunk. He wanted you when you were sober. In his mind, if you love him sober, you’ll love him drunk. Not the other way around.

“Tony” you whispered in his ear.

“(Y/n)” he responded. Your hands still traveling around his body when he pulled up into the driveway. He parked the car and turned it off.

Once the two of you were inside, Tony took you to his bedroom. You drunkly got undressed. Tony had his back turned while you were pulling down your pants. He tossed one of his shirts on the bed.

“I’ll be back” he said and left the room retuning a few minutes later to see you sitting on the edge of the bed. “Brought baby wipes for your makeup” he shrugged crouching down to help you wipe it off.

You were smiling. You played with his hoodie strings while he cleaned off your face. Slowing down around your lips. You leaned down and kissed him. He kissed you back. Tony moved between your legs and you scooted back on the bed. The blankets already in disarray seeing as he was sleeping earlier.

“Tony…” you whisper palming him through his pajama pants. He shook his head, kissing you deeply.

He held your hips. Close to his.

“Fuck” he groaned as you moved against him.

He pressed his lips to yours one more time. You passionately kissed him back. He covered you with the blanket, as he noticed you were getting sleepier and sleepier.

“Goodnight gorgeous” he kissed you before cuddling next to you. You hummed in response.

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poisonlove · 1 year ago

Text

Blood and Love | t.c

Tara was aware of the secret that haunted her sister: being related to Billie Loomis.

But she could have never expected to receive a late-night call that would change the course of her life.

I enter the hospital room with my heart racing wildly in my chest. My breath is ragged as I search for Tara's gaze. When her eyes lift and meet mine, I see fear and relief mingling in them.

—T/n—she whispers, her voice like a fragile thread of silver holding together tumultuous emotions.

I approach her bed with determined steps, though my insides are a storm of emotions. I sit beside her, my gaze fixed on her as if I want to shield her from any harm. I gently take her hand, trying to convey a sense of security through the touch.

—Tara, how are you?—I ask with a soft voice laced with concern. Her lips curve into a muted smile, but I still see the shadow of fear in her eyes.

Tara gazes at the hospital ceiling as if seeking comfort in its simple whiteness. —T/n— she begins, her voice trembling, —it was such a strange and terrifying call.— She takes a deep breath before continuing. —The phone rang, and I answered without thinking too much. There was this distorted, almost mechanical voice asking me unsettling things.—

I look at her, my eyes fixed on her, trying to imagine what she must have faced. —What did it ask you?— I inquire cautiously, dreading the answers that might come.

Tara nervously wets her lips. —It asked me how I was... and then it asked about my mother.— Her voice cracks slightly, and I sense her fear through her words. —It said it was watching me and my mother. It was so unsettling, T/n. It made me feel like I was being observed.—

I squeeze her hand with a bit more strength, trying to convey my silent support. —You must have been so scared—I say empathetically, feeling anger course through my veins. I wish I could confront the responsible person with my own hands, but now my role is to be there for Tara.

Tara nods with teary eyes, tears pooling in them. —And then... then the questions got creepier. It asked me what I thought about Steb.— She sighs, and I know it's a delicate topic. —Steb is the movie that... well, it's about everything that happened with my mother. It was a terrible part of my life.—

Her words shake me, but I keep holding her hand to offer my silent support. —Did you answer those questions?— I ask with curiosity and concern. I know it can't have been easy for her to confront these painful memories.

Tara nods, her voice trembling. —Yes, I answered. Then... then it happened. I heard a noise from the front door, and when I turned, he was there... Ghostface.— A tear rolls down her cheek and falls onto the hospital sheet. —He started shouting, saying terrible things. He was so menacing, T/n. He had a knife, and... and he hurt me.—

Anger and disgust well up inside me as I listen. I wish I could erase the horror she went through, make her fear vanish. I squeeze her hand even more, trying to transmit all the affection and support I feel. —We'll get you out of here, Tara. And together, we'll find a way to cope with all of this.—

Tara's tears stream down her face as she looks into my eyes, seeking comfort and security. I hold her hand affectionately, knowing I can't erase the past, but I can be here for her now, in this moment of fear and vulnerability.

The images before my eyes are a mix of pain and helplessness. I look at the oxygen tubes in Tara's nostrils, the bandages on her hand, and the wounds on her legs. Seeing her so vulnerable, so far from the strong girl I knew, tightens my heart.

I can't help but feel a lump in my throat as I watch her. My mind goes to the times we laughed together, the long and deep conversations we shared, and every moment I tried to hide what I felt for her. And now, here, seeing her like this, I feel even worse for never having found the courage to confess my feelings.

I pull the chair as close to her bed as possible, trying to offer some comfort with my proximity. I gently take her non-bandaged hand and give it a light stroke with my thumb. —Tara— I say softly, —I'm so sorry you're going through all of this.—

Her eyes shift to me, and even though they're teary, I still see strength in them. —Thank you, T/n— she murmurs gratefully. —You're here for me... and that means more than you can imagine.—

A sad smile forms on my lips as I try to find the right words. —I'm here because you matter to me, Tara. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now.— My heart beats hard in my chest, but I know now is not the time to confess everything.

I take a deep breath and try to push away the sadness that threatens to overwhelm me. —We're strong together, Tara. We'll face all of this together—My words are a commitment, a way to tell her that she'll never be alone in this fight.

I glance at her wounds again, and anger towards anyone who hurt her burns within me. But now, in this moment, my priority is to be there for her, supporting her and trying to bring some comfort to that pale face marked by fear.

Amber's entrance shatters the bubble of intimacy I tried to create around me and Tara. My gaze shifts towards her as she enters the room, but I can't help but notice the disdainful look she directs at me.

Her cutting words, laced with sarcasm, pierce the air. —Oh, look who's here. The shining knight in armor coming to rescue the damsel in distress— Her voice is a mixture of sarcasm and mockery, and I can feel the irritation she's trying to convey.

I deliberately ignore her, continuing to keep my gaze fixed on Tara. Amber can think whatever she wants, but now isn't the time for her jealousy games or taunts. I have an important person to support and protect.

Amber sits next to Tara and looks at her gently, trying to offer comfort with her gaze. I can see genuine concern in her eyes as she tries to be there for Tara. I nod slightly towards her, appreciating her effort to support my friend in such a difficult moment.

However, the sense of tension doesn't ease with Sam's arrival and the boy by her side. As soon as the boy enters the room, I immediately sense that something is off. His expressions, the way he looks around with a certain detachment... everything seems out of place.

Amber might not have noticed right away, but I can't stop watching this boy. Something about him makes me uneasy, and my attention is divided between him and Tara. I keep lightly holding Tara's hand, a silent sign of support, as I try to better understand who this boy is and what he's doing here.

Emotions swirl within me: concern for Tara, suspicion towards this boy, and a growing determination to protect my friend at all costs. I know this moment could be crucial, and I need to stay vigilant for any signs of threat that might come from him.

Sam approaches Tara with concern. —Tara, how are you? I'm so glad to see you.—

Tara smiles weakly. —I'm trying to be okay, Sam. Thank you for being here.—

Sam gestures towards the boy at her side. —This is Richie, my boyfriend. Richie, this is Tara.—

Richie smiles gently. —Hello, Tara. I'm glad to finally meet you.—

Tara returns the smile. —Hi, Richie. Thank you for coming.—

I take a step back, ready to leave them alone.

Tara urgently grabs my hand, looking at me with teary yet bright eyes. Her grip on my hand makes me pause. I look at Tara, noticing her determined expression. Words aren't needed; I can feel her need for me to stay here with her. With a reassuring smile, I nod slightly, indicating that I'll stay by her side.

—Maybe we should let her rest for a bit— Richie suggests, addressing Sam.

Sam agrees with a nod. —You're right. We'll see you outside, Tara. I'll go talk to Hicks.—

As Sam, Richie and Amber leave the room, I stay by Tara's side.

Tara timidly yawns. —Sorry, I suddenly feel so tired.—

I smile gently. —Don't worry, Tara. Maybe you should close your eyes and rest.—

Tara looks at me with sweet, indecipherable eyes. —T/n, could you... could you get in bed with me? I'd just... like to have someone close while I sleep.—

—Of course, Tara. It'll be my pleasure.—

With gentleness, I shift from the chair to the bed, careful not to disturb the bandages and tubes. I lie down beside Tara, keeping one arm under the pillow to prop myself up slightly. —Is this okay?—I ask, looking at her with concern.

Tara nods with a shy smile. —Yes, perfect. Thank you, T/n.—

Carefully, I wrap my arm around Tara, pulling her gently closer to me. We embrace tenderly, and the warmth of her body is reassuring. —Rest, Tara. I'll be here as long as you want.—

Tara closes her eyes slowly, relaxing into the embrace. —Thank you, T/n. You're truly amazing.—

—And you're an extraordinary person, Tara. Goodnight— I whisper.

As the embrace grows more intimate, tranquility fills the room. Tara can finally close her eyes and find some rest, knowing that T/n is there with her. Her breath grows calmer, and sleep gently envelops her as T/n remains by her side, protective and loving.

(...)

From the initial attack to the current situation, many weeks have passed, and things have changed drastically. The sense of normalcy has been disrupted, and trust among us has been shaken. It's hard to believe that the people I've known for so long could harbor such dark secrets.

Relationships have shifted, and every look, every word seems to be under a magnifying glass. Mindy, with her keen horror enthusiast spirit, has only fueled the existing suspicions. Whenever someone seems to step out of line, her playful voice becomes an eerie reminder of the truth lurking beneath the surface.

And then there was that conversation where she excluded Liv from suspicion. Her playful tone only heightened the tension. But in the end, every laugh was accompanied by a shade of doubt. All of us are trying to decipher the puzzle, but the pieces seem to keep changing shape.

I find myself in a situation where I need to keep an eye out for anyone who might be hiding something. The friendship we had shared has become fragile, and there's a sense of isolation I can't ignore. I wish things could go back to how they were before, but I know that reality is much more complex now.

I find myself wandering amidst doubts and uncertainties, trying to balance my fear with the need to uncover the truth. Trust has been compromised, but I hope we can find a way to overcome this situation together. Amidst suspicions and tensions, there's still a part of me clinging to the idea of restoring normalcy among us, even though the future seems dark and unpredictable.

The tension seemed to increase with each passing day, and the sense of paranoia was taking over everything. Sam, in particular, seemed more paranoid than I had ever seen her. I was deeply concerned for her, but I understood that the environment we were involved in could make even the closest people doubt.

The arrival of the old survivors of Steb in the town of Woodsboro had triggered a series of even more bewildering events. The shadow of the past seemed to envelop everything, and there was an unsettling feeling in the air. Fear was growing as we tried to figure out if this was just a coincidence or if there was a deeper connection to what we were facing.

Wed, who had feelings for Tara, was one of the initial suspects. However, fate seemed to have other plans for him. The arrival of Ghostface had led to a tragic ending for Wed and his mother, Sheriff Judy Hicks. The news of their deaths had hit all of us, and the sense of threat was reaching new levels.

My mind was a mix of worry, anger, and confusion. As I tried to navigate through suspicions, new clues, and old ghosts, I knew we had to find a way to cope with all of this together. The truth was still buried beneath a layer of secrets and lies, but we had to stay united and determined to uncover what was really happening in Woodsboro.

As I stood at the crime scene with Sam, something in the context seemed off. Observing the evidence, the atmosphere was growing even more eerie, as if there was something escaping our notice. A sense of concern grew within me, and thoughts of Tara only intensified it.

That's when I felt a shiver down my spine, like an alarm indicating that something was wrong with Tara. My eyes landed on Riley, the cop, who was approaching. Without a second thought, panic gripped me, and I ran towards him, my eyes wide with fear.

—Riley!— I called, my voice filled with anxiety. —You have to help us, you have to come to the hospital with us. Tara is in danger, I feel that something's wrong.—

Sam joined me shortly after, and together we appealed to Riley. We asked for his help sincerely, begging him to come to the hospital with us. His decision seemed to come without hesitation, agreeing to accompany us without asking questions.

Without wasting time, we headed to the hospital with Riley by our side. The run seemed endless as anxiety grew within me. Tara needed us, and I knew I couldn't allow anything to happen to her. As the tension in the air grew denser, I knew we were doing everything we could to face this challenge together, hoping to protect Tara from whatever threat surrounded her.

As we were on our way in the police car, my phone suddenly rang. My anxiety reached its peak as I checked the caller ID, and my heart filled with relief when I saw Tara's name on the screen. With a trembling breath, I quickly answered.

—Tara?— I called out, trying to keep calm despite my heart still racing. Then I heard her voice, fragmented by sobs and tears. —T/n... help— she said, and her fragile voice broke my heart.

—Tara, I'm here— I responded with a gentle and concerned voice. —We're on our way to the hospital. Stay strong.— As I continued to talk to her, my mind was filled with anguish and determination. I needed to get to her, I needed to protect her from whatever was threatening her.

And then, as Tara's words continued to flow between tears and sobs, she revealed something that left me speechless.

—I don't want to die—she whispered, and the intensity of her emotions hit me like a punch in the gut. —And especially not without ever telling you how... how much I've been in love with you for so long.—

Her words resonated within me, and the world seemed to pause for a moment. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but the sound of her broken voice was real and sincere. My heart was filled with conflicting emotions: concern for Tara, anger towards whoever hurt her, and surprise in the face of her revelations.

I apologize for the confusion. In this situation, with Ghostface present next to Tara, the idea of diverting Ghostface's attention was even more critical.

—Tara— I said firmly, —try to keep Ghostface engaged. Ask him questions, make him lose time.—

The anxiety I felt was growing even more, but I knew this was the only possible option. Tara had to do her best to keep Ghostface focused on her and out of suspecting that we were coming to save her. Our priority was to protect her, and every second counted in this critical situation. As the car headed towards the hospital, I knew we were facing a challenge that required calmness, courage, and collaboration.

—I'm coming to you, Tara— I reassured her, trying to convey all my determination and affection through my words.

—I won't let anything happen to you. And as for what you said... we can talk about it when I'm there. For now, hang in there.—

The car continued to rush towards the hospital, and Tara's words stayed with me, a fragile thread of connection between us growing amidst all this confusion and fear. We had to face this situation together, protect the truth, and above all, protect each other.

As we stepped into the elevator, the tension in the air was palpable. Sam received a call from Tara, and our hearts skipped a beat as we heard Ghostface's distorted voice on the other end of the line. His words, "Tara or her boyfriend," echoed in our ears like a dark threat. Anxiety mingled with anger as we listened to those sinister words.

I saw Sam frantically press the button for Tara's floor, her face expressing determination and a sort of challenge towards Ghostface. When I heard his taunting grin and her bold response, I couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her strength. It was clear she was trying to buy time, to keep Ghostface at bay as much as possible.

—Maybe I'm wasting your time, asshole— Sam said firmly, openly defying Ghostface.

The elevator doors opened in a moment of palpable tension. The cop, Riley, had managed to intervene, firing towards Ghostface. The echo of the gunshot filled the air, as fear and adrenaline seemed to mix in a whirlwind of emotions. The bullet missed the target, but its effect was tangible: Ghostface moved away from Tara, momentarily distracted by the sudden threat.

Without hesitation, Sam and I rushed towards Tara. The adrenaline coursing through our veins fueled every step we took. In an instinctive move, I lifted Tara in my arms as if she were a bride, holding her gently yet firmly. The sensation of her fragile body in my arms made me feel a mix of protectiveness and urgency. We needed to get to the elevator, away from Ghostface and any danger threatening us.

Richie, who had been assisted by Riley, joined us as we headed towards the elevator. The cop ensured that the situation was under control, allowing us to focus on Tara. The path to the elevator seemed endless, but each step took us further away from the threat.

Tara clung to me in the embrace, and I felt her ragged breath against me. The warmth of her body against mine reassured me that she was safe, that we were finally moving towards a place where she could receive proper care.

The sensation of her embrace strengthened my commitment to keeping her safe, to doing everything in my power to make her feel protected.

Finally, we reached the elevator, and the doors opened for us. As the elevator closed, I noticed that Riley wasn't entering with us. I barely heard his words— "the head"—a warning that seemed to escape his lips in a breath. His next move was clear: he loaded his weapon and headed towards Ghostface, ready to confront the threat directly.

The emotions that swept through my body at that moment were a mix of apprehension and admiration. Riley was risking his life to face the danger and protect us. His determination struck me deeply, and I felt a knot of gratitude tighten in my throat. We were all united in this challenge, each with our role to play in ensuring our safety.

As the elevator continued to descend, I knew that Tara's fate, all of our fates, hung by a thread. But we were determined to do everything in our power to come out of it, to defeat Ghostface and shed light on all this darkness. Holding Tara even tighter, I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to gather courage and hope as we headed into the unknown.

Sitting in Tara's hospital room, Sam and I found ourselves in a quiet corner. I looked at Tara with concern and said firmly—Tara, I know you want to get out of here as soon as possible, but you have to consider your safety. Running away might be the best solution right now.—

Tara looked at Sam and then at me, anxiety evident in her eyes. —I know I just want to forget all this— she said with a trembling voice, —but it seems so risky to stay here. What if Ghostface finds us again?—

—I understand— Sam responded—but maybe we should consider the possibility of leaving the town for a while. We could go somewhere where Ghostface won't easily find us.—

Just as we were about to leave the facility, we encountered Sidney Prescott and Gale, two survivors of experiences similar to ours.

Sidney followed Sam with concern.

—Running away might not be the solution. I've learned that Ghostface will always come back unless we confront him once and for all.—

—Are you asking us to help you kill him? Are you crazy?— Sam asked, confused.

—Hey, be careful how you talk, young lady. She's the original, you know? The first survivor of Ghostface...— Gale said, joining her friend.

The car with Richie at the wheel arrives. —Um... hi, I'm Richie... we've met before...— he closes his eyes and sighs. —Sam, T/n, get in... we're leaving.–

I looked at Tara with shining eyes and sighed as I opened the car door, sitting down beside her. —I'm sorry, but we have to leave town... it's for Tara's safety—Sam said, and then got into the car.

During the journey, I felt Tara's proximity. Every brush of her fingers against mine sent a shiver along my skin, and when I glanced at her, I noticed her shy and uncertain expression. Her gaze seemed to hold a world of unspoken thoughts.

My heart beat faster, knowing there was something she wanted to share with me. I accepted her touch, trying to convey reassurance through that contact. —Tara—I said gently, —if there's something you want to say, you can. We're here together.—

Her shyness was palpable, but she finally found the courage to speak. —I told you on the phone that I didn't want to die without telling you... without telling you that I've had feelings for you for a long time.— Her voice was barely a whisper, but her words resonated in my heart like a sweet and intense melody.

I kept my gaze on her, trying to communicate that I was listening carefully and that her words mattered to me. I felt a delicate smile form on my lips. —Tara—I replied, —you don't know how grateful I am to hear these words from you. I too... have had feelings for you for a long time.—

Our gazes met in a moment of deep connection. It was a secret we had kept hidden for too long, and now that we were facing this threat together, it seemed like the right time to confront our feelings as well. I felt that our bond was further strengthening in that moment, and I knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it all together.

I felt the gentle touch of Tara's bandaged hand on my cheek. It was such a sweet and intimate gesture that seemed to envelop us in a protective bubble, isolating us from the outside world. Despite her wounds, Tara still found the strength to seek my touch, to share that moment of intimacy.

I felt overwhelmed by emotions, by thoughts that I had kept hidden for so long. It was incredible how everything was coming together in that moment: the danger we were facing, the feelings we were revealing, and the sense of unity that was binding us even more.

Despite our intense private moment, I knew that Richie and Sam were there, curious eyes watching through the rearview mirror. I decided to ignore those glances and focus solely on Tara. Our connection was what mattered, and nothing could tarnish that shared intimacy.

I felt my heart beat with a certain urgency as I continued driving along the road. Every now and then, a small smile appeared on my lips, a reflection of the happiness and gratitude I was feeling in that moment. I couldn't predict what lay ahead in the future, but I knew that regardless of everything, we would face every challenge together, our bond growing stronger and our hearts open to whatever the future would bring.

Tara's smile was like a sweet melody, a prelude to what was about to happen. As she leaned in closer to me, I felt my heart beat with a mixture of excitement and tenderness. Her lips met mine in a sweet and deep kiss, and it seemed like the world around us dissolved, leaving just the two of us.

It was a kiss filled with emotions and meaning, a way to express everything we were experiencing in that moment. It was as if our feelings were being transmitted through that intimate contact, saying things that words alone couldn't convey. Her lips were warm and soft against mine, and I surrendered to that moment of sweetness.

During the kiss, I felt Tara shifting, as if she was trying to find a more comfortable position. It was then that I realized she was freeing herself from the seatbelt. I saw her straddle my lap, and I smiled against her lips. It was a bold and intimate gesture, but I felt that our bond made it perfectly natural.

We continued to kiss, our contact growing more intense and the world around us fading even more. We were united in that moment, connected by deep feelings and a bond that seemed to transcend time and space. Nothing else mattered except the two of us and the kiss we shared, a kiss that seemed to encapsulate everything we felt for each other. Richie's sudden cough interrupted our kiss, causing us to break apart with a mixture of embarrassment and smiles. Tara's cheeks were flushed, and her lips slightly swollen from the passionate kiss. We locked eyes, her gaze bright and full of emotion, and I felt my heart beat with uncontainable joy.

—Sorry— Richie said with a small embarrassed smile —but it seemed like you were so focused that I could have driven for miles without you noticing anything.—

Tara and I exchanged a knowing look and then burst into laughter together. It was true, we had become so lost in our own world that everything else seemed to fade away. Now, with our cheeks warm from embarrassment and our hearts still racing, we realized the absurdity of the situation.

—That was a bit embarrassing, wasn't it?— I said with a playful smile, turning to Tara.

Her lips curved into a shy smile as she nodded. —Yes, but it was also... nice.—

I felt a wave of affection for her as I knew that we had shared such an intimate moment together.

—Where's my inhaler?— Tara's worried voice filled the car as she began frantically searching her bag. I could feel the tension growing in the air as she looked anxiously inside her bag, hoping to find her precious inhaler. It was clear that she was realizing that her inhaler wasn't with her, and her agitation was palpable.

Sam turned slightly in her seat, looking at Tara with empathy. —Maybe you left it at the hospital by accident?— she suggested, trying to find a rational explanation.

Tara shook her head, continuing to search. —No, I'm sure I put it in my bag before leaving the hospital— she said with an anxious voice.

I turned to her, trying to convey a sense of calm. —Maybe it slipped between the seats?— I suggested, thinking of every possibility.

Tara leaned down to look under her seat, but she didn't seem to find anything. Her expression was a mix of frustration and concern. —I can't believe I forgot my inhaler— she said with a sigh.

—Take a deep breath— I said, trying to reassure her.

Tara suddenly brightened as she remembered something. —Wait, I have a spare inhaler at Amber's house!— she exclaimed with a hopeful expression.

The news shed light on the situation, and a sigh of relief spread through the car. Sam and I exchanged a reassuring look, reassured by the fact that there was a solution available. —Seriously?— I asked, seeking confirmation.

Tara nodded with a smile. —Yes, I remember leaving it there a while ago— she said. —It's been a bit chaotic, and I didn't think I'd need it out here.—

—That's good news then— Sam commented, visibly relieved.

—Absolutely— I agreed, gently taking Tara's hand and giving them both a reassuring smile. —Let's go to Amber's and get your spare inhaler. We don't want you to have any issues because of this situation.—

Tara nodded, visibly grateful for our support. The road ahead of us seemed less complicated now that we had a solution. Tara's safety and comfort were our priority, and we knew we would do everything in our power to ensure she was safe and well. With a lighter heart, we continued our journey to Amber's house, ready to face whatever challenges awaited us.

***

As soon as we entered Amber's house, we were greeted by a whirlwind of sounds and movements. Music blared loudly, while people laughed and danced. It was clear that a party was in full swing in honor of Wes, which seemed to add another layer of complexity to the already tense situation. As we moved through the crowd, I kept an eye on Tara, making sure she was okay amidst all the chaos.

All around us, people seemed oblivious to the tensions and worries that were happening in our lives. It was strange to see the normalcy of a party amidst all this, but somehow, it also helped to take our minds off the difficulties we were facing.

Richie spoke up, grabbing the attention of Sam and Tara. His voice cut through the music and the party noise. —A bit of attention, please— he said seriously. —Sam and Tara have been attacked twice by the killer. I think it's best that everyone goes home for your safety.—

There were various murmurs of disapproval, but they obeyed the request and started leaving the house, leaving only Tara's friends and Richie behind.

Tara looked at me with a small smile before turning to Amber. —I'm going to get my spare inhaler—she said. Amber nodded. —I'll come with you— she offered, walking alongside her toward the stairs.

I found myself walking down a corridor, seeking some space and tranquility. As I walked, I noticed Mindy in a rather interesting situation: she was kissing a girl on a couch.

Their intimacy seemed to contrast with the overall situation, but I knew that everyone was seeking a small escape from reality in different ways. The situation took a turn when Richie intervened, asking the girl to leave. It was clear that Richie was concerned about everyone's safety, and his reaction was understandable given the circumstances.

—Um, can someone accompany me to the basement?— Richie timidly asked, gripping the doorknob.

I shook my head, and Mindy smiled nervously. —You tried, handsome, but I'm not going down there—Mindy smiled, and Richie chuckled weakly. —You're right... you know, with the Ghostface situation...— he murmured before opening the door and descending the stairs.

I sat down next to Mindy, trying to create a small moment of calm and tranquility amidst all the tension. Our gaze landed on the screen, where "Steb," the movie he was playing, was showing. Mindy seemed to be enjoying making fun of the characters' choices and naivety, perhaps seeking a temporary escape from the troubled reality surrounding us.

Watching the movie together, I could almost forget for a moment the worries we were facing. It was as if we had entered a different world, far from the horrors we had experienced and the complex interpersonal dynamics emerging. The sound of laughter and the flicker of the screen seemed like an anchor of normalcy in a time when everything seemed topsy-turvy.

Mindy seemed to enjoy the playful aspect of the film, laughing heartily at some situations and character choices. Her laughter was a small glimmer of lightness in an otherwise tense situation. Observing Mindy, I realized how important it was to find ways to lighten the weight of the emotions we were dealing with.

The scene suddenly turned into overwhelming chaos when Mindy turned and found herself face-to-face with Ghostface, poised to strike. Without thinking twice, I instinctively moved between Mindy and the killer, taking a stab to the shoulder that made me emit a groan of pain. Confusion and fear gripped the room.

Mindy and Sam rushed toward me with concern, trying to calm me down and assess the severity of the wound. Blood was flowing from my shoulder, and the sensation of pain spread throughout my body.

Tara and Amber joined the scene, with Tara struggling on crutches due to her injuries. Her eyes expressed concern as she approached me, trying to understand how badly hurt I was.

Amber, on the other hand, observed the scene with curiosity and suspicion. —I don't know what you were all doing, but I was with Tara— she said agitatedly.

Amidst all this, Richie made his sudden entrance. —Where the hell were you?— Sam asked him agitatedly, looking at him with panic. —I was getting a beer! But no one wanted to come with me— he muttered agitatedly.

The situation became even more tumultuous when Liv entered the room again, this time crying out of stress and fear. Her hands were stained with blood, an image that struck all of us with a sense of terror and unease. It was evident that the situation was spiraling out of control, and danger seemed to be surrounding us from all sides.

—Stay back!—Amber whispered, and Liv continued to cry. —I found Chad— she said amidst tears.

—Chad?—Sam asked timidly.

—You're a damn liar!—Amber said with disgust.

—No!—Liv denied, shaking her head.

—You're the killer!— Richie said.

—No, it's not me...— Liv mumbled in panic.

—Liv, stop— Amber said, extending her hands toward Liv.

—Liv, stop!— Amber repeated impatiently.

—Fuck you, Amber. I'm not the damn killer—Liv muttered, emphasizing each word.

My eyes landed on Amber's hand, disappearing behind her, retrieving something. —I know— Amber replied, and my eyes widened when I saw Tara's best friend place a bullet in the middle of Liv's forehead.

—Welcome to Act Three— Amber said, pointing the gun at me.

Mindy, who was close by, struck Amber's arm, deflecting the shot.

The shoulder wound was painful, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins gave me the strength to scoop Tara up and seek shelter. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sam and Richie heading toward the basement, while Mindy seemed to be busy distracting Amber. It was an atmosphere of chaos and panic, but I had to focus on keeping Tara safe and addressing the situation.

With quick and silent steps, I climbed the stairs to the upper floor, carrying Tara with me. We found refuge in a room, and without hesitation, we squeezed ourselves into a relatively small closet. As my heart raced, I placed a hand over Tara's mouth to quiet her and urged her to slow her breath. The silence in that cramped space was stifling, but I knew it was necessary to avoid attracting the killer's attention.

I felt Tara's rapid heartbeat against my hand, and her eyes were filled with fear.

—Tara, I know you want me to stay here with you, but I need to go down and try to resolve the situation outside.—

Tara shook her head. —No, T/n, I can't let you go. I'm afraid you'll get hurt, that you might end up like Wes.—

I gently held her face in my hands. —Tara, I promise I'll be careful. I don't want to put myself in danger, but I also have a duty to help others. We need to find a solution to this situation.—

Tara squinted her eyes slightly. —I don't care about the others right now, I only care about you. I don't want to lose you.—

I held her hand and looked into her eyes. —Tara, I understand how worried you are, but I can't let anyone get hurt. I'll try to come back to you as soon as I can. You have to promise me that you'll stay safe here.—

—I can't promise that if I don't know what will happen. T/n, I don't know what I would do if something happened to you—Tara said with a trembling voice.

—Listen, I know it's difficult, but I have faith in you. If something goes wrong, try to find a safe place to hide. And when I come back, we'll be together again. Don't let fear make you take irrational decisions.—

Our gaze locked, and in the silence filled with emotions, Tara leaned closer to me. Our breaths mingled, and I felt her gentle touch on my cheek as she drew closer. Her kiss was intense, as if she wanted to convey everything she was feeling at that moment.

I felt every part of me respond to that needy and meaningful kiss. It was as if we wanted to share everything we felt for each other, in case we didn't have another chance. Our lips moved with passion and tenderness, and as we parted, I could read everything in her glistening eyes.

—Come back to me— she whispered, and I could hear the concern and longing in her voice.

—I promise I'll be back— I replied, trying to convey all the determination and affection I felt.

We exchanged an intense and meaningful gaze before I slowly pulled away to descend the stairs. I had a mission to complete, but the thought of Tara and her warm embrace would accompany me in every step I took.

I hurriedly descended the stairs.

The scene in front of me was unfolding incredibly fast and violent. Confusion mixed with horror as Sam pointed the gun at Amber, Sydney urged her to shoot, and Richie approached with determined steps.

My heart was racing as I tried to comprehend what was happening.

—Thank God you're okay— Richie's words resonated in the room, and I felt myself freeze. With wide eyes, I helplessly witnessed the horrifying scene: the knife lodged in Sam's side, Richie embracing her, making the situation even more dreadful. —Because I wanted it to be me to kill you—Sam whispered almost breathlessly.

Richie's gaze shifted to me.

—Don't move, T/A— I remained frozen in place as I saw him aiming the gun at me.

Sydney stared at me in panic.

Richie handed the gun to Amber, causing her to point it at Sydney's temple. —Come here if you don't want me to kill Tara— Amber whispered seriously.

Reluctantly, I approached.

Amber struck me in the face with the gun's butt, causing a cut on my eyebrow.

—I can't believe it worked...— Richie said, smiling, revealing the inhaler that Tara had lost. —I know... it's a pity it's me— Richie said with gleaming eyes, tossing the inhaler to the ground. —But it was the best thing for the movie— he added, using a voice distorter.

—This isn't a damn movie— Sam muttered through clenched teeth. —I know... but it will be— Richie said, smiling.

—Right, Amber?— Sam's ex-boyfriend asked playfully.

—Absolutely, darling. Third-act bloodbath. Done—Amber said, smiling, pressing the gun against Sydney's temple. —Killers revealed. Done— Amber murmured next, looking at me with gleaming eyes.

Pouting, the girl aimed the gun at my legs and shot me.

The pain hit me suddenly, like a lightning bolt tearing through my body. My legs gave way beneath me, and I fell to the ground, feeling the sharp, throbbing burn radiating through me. The entire world seemed to slow down, and my breath became labored as I tried to grapple with that excruciating sensation.

My hands clenched around my legs, searching for any point of support. Tears welled up in my eyes from the pain and surprise. I couldn't believe what was happening. I looked at Amber, trying to fathom the reason behind that violent and senseless act.

—Why?— I managed to whisper, my voice cracking from pain and confusion. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: anger, fear, betrayal. I couldn't fathom how anyone could inflict such pain on another human being.

I hoped someone would intervene, put an end to this madness. As the agony consumed me, my gaze met Sydney's. I pleaded for help with my eyes, imploring someone to halt everything before irreparable harm was done.

—Let's take them to the kitchen— Amber murmured, ignoring my question. I struggled to stand and followed them, blinded by pain.

—Someone needs to save the franchise— Richie exclaimed with enthusiasm. —No one's made a Steb film after the first— Richie pushed Sam. —No one at all— he affirmed, giving me a kick.

I gritted my teeth and tried to hold back tears.

Amber jumped up and down excitedly. —Darling, could you fetch Gale?—Richie asked kindly, pointing the gun at Sam. —I'm going!— the psychopath muttered enthusiastically.

Sam tried to escape, but Richie stopped her.

—Sydney Prescott...— Richie murmured with a smile on his lips. —You know... I'm a big admirer of yours— he timidly exclaimed.

—Screw you, psycho— Sydney retorted venomously.

—Did you watch the latest Steb?— Richie asked, tilting his head. —I don't like horror movies— Sydney replied.

—Well, anyway, it was awful... Is it possible they don't take us seriously because we're enthusiasts? Is it possible they won't listen to us?— Richie said angrily. —So we decided to lend a hand... you know... a real Steb is based on real events— he added, pointing the gun at Sam.

Amber arrived with Gale and had her sit on a chair.

—Did you do all this to make me the hero of your stupid movie?— Sam asked disgustedly.

—Darling... you're not the hero... you're the villain— Richie said playfully.

—The daughter of Billy Loomis, haunted by eerie visions of her killer father— Richie murmurs, placing the tip of the gun against Sam's throat. —Sydney Prescott killed your father... you... did all of this to bring her back to Woodsboro—Richie smiles at Sam.

—Do you know what the main problem with Steb films is?— Amber says innocently, playing with the gun.

—That there's no Michael Myers or Jason Voorhees— Amber moves the gun along Sydney's face. —No recurring villain in all the movies— she states with a smile.

—But the illegitimate daughter of the original villain? Now that's one damn good villain—she whispers with a chuckle.

—How do you know?—Sam asked.

—Darling... this is a small town, and your mother is a drunk— Amber said, amused.

—I met Richie on Steb forums... I immediately realized we think alike... I had this obsession when my parents bought this house— Amber said.

—Wasn't it difficult to find you in Modesto— Richie sneered. —Sleeping with you wasn't hard either— he muttered weakly.

—Fuck you!— Sam exclaimed angrily. —So you're just quoting the original— Richie said with amusement.

—We didn't only need you, Sam... but we had to bring back the main Steb characters— Amber said.

My eyes shifted to the knife on the table.

—You can't have Halloween without a Jamie Lee!—Amber said excitedly.

—That's why we had to kill Riley— Richie said, —for once we enthusiasts will win.— Richie approaches Sydney. —And I'm sorry, Sid. But you'll have to die... we can't let you survive anymore... it would be ridiculous— Richie muttered.

— Amber, go get Tara from the closet. We need to set up the bodies— Richie said with a smile.

Amber hesitated in place.

—Did you put her in the closet?— she timidly asked, and Richie gave her a furious look. —No, you were supposed to! Damn it! Go find her!—the guy said, clearly angry.

The phone began to ring.

—It's for you— I said with a half-smile on my lips. —Yes... as if Tara's limp was the problem— Richie said, amused.

—Amber, look for her everywhere! She couldn't have gone far!— Richie yelled, pointing the gun at Sam.

—I can't find her!— Amber's screams echoed in the distance.

Sounds of struggle in the distance distracted Richie. After Sam tackled him to the ground and attempted to disarm him, she finally managed to take the gun from him and escape to another room, taking one of the two Ghostfaces with her.

Meanwhile, Gale and Sydney confronted Amber, given my inability to walk. Despite their hostile and dangerous opponent, Gale and Sydney embarked on confronting Amber and trying to control the situation. With a seemingly inexplicable force of will, I managed to lift myself off the ground despite the searing pain. I grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer and, without wasting time, hurled it at Amber with all the remaining energy I had. The liquid hit her body, and I heard her scream in pain as she recoiled, temporarily defeated. Gale and Sydney seized the opportunity, stepping in with determination to fight her. At that moment, I realized that my determination was becoming a crucial factor in this battle against Amber.

—I didn't do anything! It was his idea!—Amber exclaimed in panic after being cornered.

—You killed Riley, my friend—Gale said, aiming the gun at Amber.

—And he cried like a child— Amber said with a smile, provoking Gale's anger.

The fight continued, and after being cornered once again, Gale decided not to fall for it and shot at Amber. The girl fell against the kitchen and caught fire.

Sydney put an arm around my waist and led me out, seeing that Sam had killed Richie in the meantime.

Still in shock from the unexpected turn of events, a piercing scream echoed from the kitchen. I turned around in panic and saw Amber, half-burned, advancing towards me with a knife in hand. Everything seemed to be heading for the worst, but a sudden gunshot rang through the air, and Amber fell to the ground, motionless.

—Don't touch my girlfriend, you bitch— Tara said breathlessly, gripping the gun tightly.

Comments please

#jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream #love #guns n roses #gunshot #sydney prescott

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thebearer · 9 months ago

Text

love, i found you |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: how anchovy berzatto came into your and carmen's lives. or the story of anchovy berzatto, dumpster kitten turned spoiled cat.

contains: mentions of animal being abandoned/ stray kitten. small, malnourished anchovy but nothing graphic (i won't do that to you i promise). mainly fluff. language. richie being a hater a little lol.

word count: 2.9k+

“Chefs, keep the stations clear-”

“-Has anyone seen Richie?-”

“-Jeff, I need more branzino for the seven fishes-”

“-Heard, Tina. There, uh, I think there’s some-”

“-Carm, have you seen the books for tonight?-”

“-Has anyone seen Richie? Richie! Where the fuck is he?”

A chaotic melody of screams meshed together in some kind of disarray of harmony, one speaking over the other, the sound of pots and pans clashing, hisses of sizzling food in them a backtrack to the madness.

“I’m right here, Sugar.” Richie scoffed, buttoning the front of his jacket. He patted your shoulder in passing, cheek pressing lightly to yours, muttering, “How’re you, sweetheart? Doin’ good?” In passing.

He was the first to notice you, even over Carmen. The rest of the staff bustling through the kitchen prep, trying to squeeze everything in before the family meal. Carmen had invited you to family, but you were starting to regret agreeing, feeling useless and in the way in the face of the hectic nature.

“Where have you been?” Sugar huffed at Richie, heels clacking in a stomp towards the office. “I have a million fucking things- oh, hey.” She paused, eyes lighting in a greeting when they landed on you.

“I didn’t know you were here. How are you?” Sugar hugged you, a soft side hug in greeting that you returned stiffly.

“I’m good. How are you?” You muttered, eyes still scanning the kitchen.

Sugar let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Ask me in about an hour.” She shook her head. “I have a million fucking things to do as I was telling Richie.” She turned, eyes narrowing pointedly at the man. “Only two dishwashers showed up tonight.”

“You’re shitting me.” Richie groaned. “That fuckin’ jagoff- take a chance on me, bullshit.”

“Yeah, so Neil needs to wash utensils tonight between the floor, ok?” Sugar jabbed a manicured nail into her clipboard.

“Is there anything I can do?” You squeaked, much smaller than you meant it to. Richie and Sugar turned to you, both blinking, like they’d forgotten you were even there. “Carm invited me to family, but I can help. I can wash dishes if you need me too. I don’t have anything else to do.”

“That would be-” Sugar nodded in a sigh, a small smile spreading across her face. “Did I ever tell you I love you? Seriously.” She turned to Carm, who was passing behind her. “Carm, don’t ever fuck this up with her, you hear me? I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmen muttered, and you knew by the drone in his voice he wasn’t listening, too consumed with other things, discarding vegetable scraps into the trash.

“This thing is fuckin’ full. Can they not- Oh, hey.” Carmen’s features softened at the sight of you, spine straightening gently. “When’d you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” You leaned forward, his lips brushing your cheek softly in greeting. “I didn’t want to disrupt. You seemed… busy.”

Carmen snorted. “Yeah, uh, that’s a word for it. Busy, out of my fuckin’ mind because this trash is fuckin’ full!” He boomed at no one in particular.

“Now, I gotta take this out and replace it, and that puts us back, and every second counts, does it not, cousin?” Carmen rambled, glaring at Richie, yanking the sides of the trashcan off the rim.

“Look, I didn’t know that the two didn’t show-”

“-No, of course you didn’t. Can’t pay attention to shit-”

“-Alright, let’s bring it down.” Sugar lifted her hands, eyeing Carmen with a slight nod of her head towards you.

“Sorry.” Carmen muttered, eyes lifting to you. “Sorry, cousin. I-I’m just, we’re fuckin’ booked, an-and I’m so far behind-”

“-I’ll take it.” You squeaked, a little too eagerly. Carmen’s brows furrowed, you cut him off before he could finish. “No, seriously, you’re all busy. I’ll go take this out and then I’ll help make sure the utensils are ready.”

“N-No, I can’t ask you to do that. That would be shitty.” Carmen shook his head, pulling the trash bag out of the can.

“Good thing you didn’t ask me. I offered.” Your hand wrapped over his, squeezing his closed fist gently with a tiny grin. “Go, I got it.”

Carmen beamed, cheeks tinging pink. If he wouldn’t have been in the middle of the kitchen prep rush, he would’ve kissed you, pressed you right up against the wall and smooched you sloppy. Instead, he let you take the trash.

“Gary!” Richie called behind you. “Make sure you let her back in, alright? Just knock and he’ll let you back in. You’re a fucking life saver, y’know that?” Richie beamed, pushing the heavy steel door open so you could duck under his arm.

It was surprisingly warm- well, warm-ish for Chicago in the winter. No snow, no need for a heavy jacket but brisk enough for a chill. The dumpster lid was already flipped over, and you were thankful for that, slinging the bag over the edge, turning to go back inside.

You stopped, halting just as you’d turned. The tiniest squeak of a cry, desperate and alert. You turned scanning the alley walls, the corners by the dumpster until you heard it again, that same pitiful whimper echoing off the metal of the dumpster- inside the dumpster.

You hesitated for a moment. You couldn’t leave it, whatever it was, it sounded pathetic and in pain. Your eyes flickered back to the building, you could see Gary in the small window, head turned towards the others. They were so busy, you couldn’t ask Carmen or even Fak.

“I’ll be right back.” You cooed towards the dumpster frantically. “Just hold tight for me, ok? I’ll get you out, one sec.” It was silly, but you felt the need to say it, even if just for yourself.

Sprinting towards the door, you knocked on the glass rapidly. Gary pushed it open. “I need your help.” You stopped him before he could walk away. “J-Just for a second. I promise.”

Gary’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, are you- you’re ok?”

“Yeah, I mean,” You turned towards the dumpster. “There’s something in there. I think it’s a cat? I think it’s hurt.”

“A cat?” Gary’s eyes widened, still, he followed your furious pace towards the dumpster. “Wait, I-I don’t think- Lemme get Carm-”

“-No, he’s busy.” You shook your head. “It will just take me a second. I just need you to help me get down.”

Gary paused, watching you in complete awe- maybe horror- push off a discarded crate towards the ledge of the dumpster. “This is- no, this is fuckin’ crazy, I’m sorry. You don’t know what that thing has-”

Your small gasp cut him off, eyes rounding in awe. There in the piles of trash, a fuzzy blip of orange fur nestled into the black bags- a tiny, scraggly kitten, mewling helplessly.

“Oh my God,” You muttered. “It’s a baby.”

“A baby?” Gary gawked.

“A kitten baby.” You corrected, lip jutting. “I have to get it.”

“I really don’t think you should be doin’ this.” Gary looked back at the door then to you. “You can’t go in the dumpster, c’mon.”

“You want to go in instead?” You huffed, eyes rolling at his disgusted snarl. “Just- I’ll do it.” You leaned to the side, taking a deep breath of fresh air, swallowing down a gag at the expected smell.

Holding your breath, you let yourself fall into the dumpster, the squishy bags of trash uneasy under your feet. The small kitten whined, crying at the shift of your weight.

“This is fuckin’ insane.” Gary muttered, shaking his head.

“Aye, Sweeps, what the fuck?” Richie’s voice boomed, the slam of the door making both of you jump. “Take your smoke break later, you jagoff, I need your-”

“-I’m not-” Gary huffed in annoyance. “She’s in the dumpster.”

“Who?” Richie asked.

“Me!” You swallowed a retch, the pungent stench of the trash filling your senses as you crouched closer towards the kitten. At least it wasn’t summer.

“Why the fuck is Carmen’s girl in the dumpster?” Richie roared. “Carmen! Get out here now, cousin!”

“Why is she in the dumpster? Why the fuck are you in the dumpster?” Richie’s furious stomps were muted from the outside. You cringed, still trying to hold your breath, coaxing the small kitten into your hold.

The poor thing, so small- so fucking small. Shaking in your hold, crying and whining, but turned into the warmth of your palm. A cry bubbled from your chest, mixing with a gag at the smell.

“Cousin, what? What the fuck is-” Carmen bounded outside, stopping when he saw the top of your head pop up, out of the dumpster. “The fuck?”

“Your girl’s in the garbage.” Richie shook his head.

“Yeah, why the fuck- Baby, w-why are you- What are you doin’?” Carmen jogged towards you, hoisting himself over the side of the dumpster, arm extended for you.

“She found a cat.” Gary rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“A cat?” Richie repeated.

“A kitten.” You showed Carmen, pulling the small thing from your chest, where you cradled him close to you.

Carmen blinked at you. “You went in the dumpster f-for a cat? A cat?” He shook his head, confused. “Baby, that thing could have diseases a-and rabies and shit-”

“-He’s starving.” You countered, lip jutting in a firm pout. Carmen hated the way he could feel himself melting. The determination in your glare, ferocious yet soft.

“I could hear him crying, a-and I couldn’t leave him.” You shook your head, petting the tiny kitten’s soft fur.

“So you climbed in the trash?” Richie snarled in disgust.

“Climbed right in the dumpster.” Gary nodded.

“Alright.” Carmen looked over his shoulder at them, a pointed glare on his face. “Just- Lemme get you outta there, alright?”

“Here,” You handed him the small cat, carefully cradling him. Carmen hesitated, a grimace in his scowl. Your eyes narrowed at him, a warning. “Hold him gently.”

So he did, of course he did, it’s what you wanted. Passing him to Richie with the same snarl of instructions, pulling you out of the dumpster, a firm hold on your waist as you climbed back over.

Richie was passing you the kitten with a grimace of disgust, dusting his hands off dramatically. “There. There’s your garbage cat that can not come back in the restaurant. Cousin,” He glared at Carmen. “We don’t want another fuckin’ C. Get shut down for havin’ fleas or shit.”

Carmen glared at him. “No, he’s right.” You nodded. “Can you bring me my purse? I’m going to see if I can get him checked out. I’ll be back.”

“Let me come with you.” Carmen offered, motioning for Gary to go get your things, untying his blue apron.

“Carm, no. You’re busy. I can do it.” You shook your head.

Carmen rolled his eyes. “No, I’m comin’ with you. Last time I let you do somethin’ alone. End up in the fuckin’ garbage.” He snorted playfully. “Besides, I think there’s a place down the street. The vet has been in a few times. I’ll see if I can, y’know, coerce him to squeeze us in.”

“Coerce?” You lifted your brows playfully, petting the tiny kitten gently, trying to still his quivering.

“Yeah, coerce.” Carmen rolled his eyes, swapping his apron out for his jacket, handing you yours. “Give ‘im a free dinner or somethin’.”

“No fuckin’ way, no.” Richie shook his head. “Cousin, you’re already late- Sydney is pissed, and you’re not bringing that fuckin’ flea bag in here.”

You held the small cat close to your chest, still damp from his bath at the vet. Carmen’s coercing had worked, Dr. Vallenti had took the bribe happily, squeezing you both in for a check up. The tiny kitten, barely two pounds, malnourished and positively pitiful. You didn’t even have to ask, Carmen knew from the way you held him close to your chest, eyes rounding just barely when the vet asked if you’d be keeping him.

“Of course,” Carmen nodded easily, squeezing your knee gently. “Just give him whatever he needs for right now, and what we need t’get. We’ll get it.”

“He doesn’t have fleas, Richie.” You sneered, cradling the small cat in your jacket to keep him warm. His shake was down to a soft tremble, not as constant but still there.

“Yeah fuckin’ right, rabies then-”

“-Cousin.” Carmen sneered. Richie stopped with a huff, throwing his arms up and muttering something as he stormed away.

“Here,” Carmen muttered, a hand on the small of your spine, pushing you into his office. “I’ll grab you a bowl and a plate for his food, alright? You just, just stay in here, ok? Richie’s right, he can’t be out.”

“I’ll keep him in here.” You nodded, sitting in the small chair. “Do you have a towel?”

“Yeah, I’ll grab that too.” Carmen slung his jacket off, running a hand through his messy curls. “I, uh, I gotta get scrubbed up and put my stuff on, but if you need anything just yell, alright?” He ducked out to the small closet, snatching a towel and two dishes off the drying rack.

“I’ll be alright.” You hummed, fingertip tracing down the kitten’s tiny head. He purred under your touch, made your chest burst with warmth.

Carmen’s lips pulled in a smile, putting the dishes on the ground for you, shedding his own shirt. You were entirely enamored with the cat, that was for sure, not even a sideways, ogling glance at Carmen’s shirtless figure.

“Shit.” Your head snapped up, wide eyed at Carmen. “I forgot the dishes. I-I’m so sorry, I can-”

“-It’s alright, baby.” Carmen dropped his pants, biting back a smirk at how your eyes did drop this time. “Tina got her son and his friend to come in. We’re good, baby.”

“Oh.” You nodded, eyes lingering on his boxer clad ass, before back to the kitten. “Good.”

Carmen shrugged on his chef’s coat, walking over to you. “It’ll be kinda a late night.” His eyes softened in apology. “I’ll have someone run you a plate when we get outta the weeds, alright?”

“Thank you.” You muttered, head tilting back for a kiss. Carmen obliged, your lips pulling him in for a longer kiss than he expected, sweet- left his body burning with heat. “Thank you.” You repeated, eyes shining sweetly.

“C’mon.” Carmen whispered gently, shaking his head at you. “You know I would do anythin’.” He pressed a kiss to your head, looking down at the small kitten before he left.

“I think he likes it?” You whispered, on your stomach next to Carmen.

It was nearly two in the morning, the two of you just returning back to the brownstone you called home. Lying on the freshly laid tile of the kitchen, you watched the small cat explore the space.

“Yeah, think he’s gettin’ used to it.” Carmen muttered, shaking the small stick so the feather danced over the kitten, grinning when he’d scrunch and bat at it clumsily.

You pressed your head into your hand, watching the kitten prowl, ears finally perked up instead of flat back in fear. “We have to name him.” You blinked, looking up at Carmen.

“Yeah,” Carmen grinned. “Yeah, that-that would be a good idea, right?” He beamed playfully.

You smiled, gently petting the kitten’s back, smiling at how he arched into your touch. “I think it should be something kinda with the restaurant.” You suggested. “Since that’s where we found him.”

“Yeah? Like Bear?” Carmen muttered.

Your nose crinkled gently. “He doesn’t really look like a Bear.”

“No,” Carmen agreed, shaking his head. “More like a Garfield.”

You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes. “That’s such a gimme name.” You shook your head. “Maybe not the restaurant, exactly, but… similar?”

“Yeah? Like Trash Can?” Carmen muttered, lips curling playfully.

You gasped lightly, smacking his leg playfully. “No.” You huffed. “Something maybe with food?”

“Carrot?”

“No.” You pouted lightly, head tilting towards the small cat, occupied with Carmen’s sweatpant strings. “What about, like, Anchovy?”

“Anchovy?” Carmen snorted in amusement softly.

“Yeah, like the fish.” You shrugged softly. “And cats eat fish- well, in the cartoons they do, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know, baby.” Carmen grinned softly down at you. “You think he looks like an Anchovy?”

The small kitten turned, perking towards Carmen, padding happily over to him. Your face lit, glowing with beaming pride and adoration as Carmen scooped up the small kitten, let him rub his face into his chest sleepily- sweetly. You thought you might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sight.

“Alright.” Carmen laughed lightly. “Think you’re right. Think he’s an Anchovy.”

“Anchovy Berzatto.” You hummed, crawling between Carmen’s spread legs, petting the tiny cat. You smiled so brightly at Carmen, his own cheeks burned, flaming under your radiant affection.

Your lips caught him again, pulling him in for a sweet, longing kiss over the small kitten’s head. Your hands in Carmen’s hair, pulling him closer and closer, kissing him like a lifeline- it made his head swim, chest swell with adoration.

Anchovy chirped, teetering on a meow and yawn, little paw stretching in Carmen’s hold. Your forehead pressed to Carmen's, you ducked down to coo at the small kitten, moving to sit in between Carmen’s legs, your back to his chest.

Home with your little family, complete with the little kitten, Anchovy Berzatto.

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xblackreader · 24 days ago

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ᯓ★ My ‘The Bear’ 🐻 Headcanons

🐻 Richie refers to Sydney as “The Missus” whenever Carmy is in trouble.

🐻 Sugar likes to gives big hugs and forehead kisses randomly. Everyone accepts them (Sydney gets a bit flustered at first but then it’s as easy as breathing)

🐻 Carmy still wipes off Sugar’s kisses like when he was a baby and threatened to report her to HR (Richie)

🐻 They have a staff potluck after a good service goes well and bring tons of dishes, Carmy makes Mikey’s spaghetti and it gets him to try and tell one of his brother’s meandering stories. It’s the most animated he’s ever been with the most smiles they’ve ever seen from him. Now they do it twice a year.

🐻 Carmy starts saying ‘Yes Dear’ whenever he wants to fluster Sydney, so she’ll stop ‘nagging’ (I.e. running the restaurant) she quickly leaves the room whenever he does.

🐻 Sydney tried to start calling him ‘Bear’ to kinda establish a solid friendship start, but his brain automatically resets whenever she does. They’re booked on the line, but he’s red and stiff like a frozen tomato.

🐻 Whenever Carmy gets close to riled up, Richie and Marcus pretend they “can’t hear him from down there” and look over his head like he’s disappeared. “Carm? Where’d he go!” “I’m right fuckin’ here! >:(“

🐻 Tina put Carmy’s hair in pony tails while he slept in the office once.

No one tells him, they just snicker until he goes to the back and looks in the mirror. “Syd!” “It wasn’t me!”

🐻 Carmen gets sick once and he’s coughing all over the office until Sydney bans him and Sugar has to take him home.

• He feels like shit, like he’s stuck in the freezer all over again, useless and pathetic.

• The entire crew stop by his apartment bringing blankets (Tina and Ebra) Casserole (Sugar) Snacks (Marcus and Fak) Get Well Soon Card from Eva (Richie) Soup and Medicine (Sydney) and he no longer feels like shit.

🐻 The crew thinks it’s funny to burst into song hours before and after Service even when Carmy is in a bad mood. If he snaps, they’ll just sing quieter or “stupider” until he starts laughing.

🐻 Sydney makes ALOT of TikTok and Vine references until Carmy starts to get them. Richie will never get them.

S: “Who that lady over there… in the chair?”

C: “… WHAT FUCKING LADY??”

R: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO SAYING!?”

🐻 Sydney boops Carmy’s nose whenever he starts getting smart w her.

“This is what you asked for so I’m giving it to you—!”

S: 🫵🏾👃🏻!! “Boop!”

C: “…. •\\J\\•”

🐻 Carmy is never beating the “Bear” allegations. So much so, Sydney begins to genuinely think he’s secretly a bear, when they start dating. He’s but a cuddler as much as he is a huge snoring weighted blanket that’s impossible to move. He snores like a bear, he gets grumpy as it gets hotter like a bear, and he starts asking her to scratch his back and play in his hair…

“Are you… are you a bear?”

“…My whole family’s the Bears. You know this.”

“No, are… are you secretly a grizzly bear.”

“Fuck off.”

🐻 Sydney bites Carmy because of her cuteness aggression, Carmy’s reaction to Sydney’s adorable face is just staring with that dopey look on his face at first, then he starts kissing her whenever she’s being cute.

Yes that includes when she’s yelling at him and her cheeks puff up and her lips start moving so fast her teeth make her lisp, yes he kisses her then too. And yes she attacks him.

ᯓ★ LLSydcarmy

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aestheticaltcow · 10 months ago

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What Happens in Vegas Doesn't Always Stay in Vegas... Part 2

A four-part series about a drunken mistake and realizations starring our favorite neurotic chef.

Jack takes matters into his own hands. Did Carmy make a mistake? Featuring an angry sister and Richie challenging authority.

CW: There is an arrest in this part; if it is something you don't want to read, skip the third paragraph. This part will still make sense if that paragraph is skipped.

The Bear Masterlist

Previous part Next part

Part 2 - The Bear, Abuse of Power, and a Dick Measuring Contest

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later?” Carmy said over the phone; he could practically hear Claire roll her eyes. He frowned and waited for her to say bye before entering the kitchen. “Hey Carmy.” Syd greeted without looking up from her notebook “I think I came up with a new idea for the dinner menu.” Carmy nodded and went to the lockers to put his backpack away. Claire was upset with him again. It had taken him months of begging her, but she took him back after what happened last year when The Bear opened. “Carmy?” Syd asked, finally looking up to see the sleep-deprived man she’d come to think of as more than just a coworker or a friend but as family. “Yea?” he responded “Dinner idea… you good?” Carmy shrugged “Yea. Same shit, different day.” he chuckled as he slipped his non-slips on.

“So, in theory, we could get a star this year?” Syd grinned as she chopped onions next to Carmy. He chuckled “Sure, Syd. In theory, we could get a star this year.” “Are you and Claire fighting again?” Carmy shook his head “Let’s not talk about that.” Syd shrugged “You cook better when you’re not fighting with her.”

Carmy was about to say something witty when the kitchen doors were kicked open to reveal two men in suits with guns drawn. “What the fuck!” Syd yells, dropping her knife and putting her hands in the air. The back door swings open, and the group hears laughs “Anyway, I told her- what the fuck!” Marcus stopped putting his hands in the air as well “What’s goin’ on, cousin!” Richie yelled, approaching the station. “Sir. Stay where you are!” one of the agents ordered, pointing his gun toward Richie, “Drop the knife.” the other agent said; Carmy listened and placed his knife on the counter. The agent holstered his gun and moved closer to him “Hands behind your back.” Carmy followed the orders “What the fuck is goin on!” Richie yelled, stepping closer to Carmy “Sir. Stay where you are.” “NO, what the fuck is goin on!” “Richie shut the fuck up,” Carmy said as calmly as possible as he was handcuffed.

The agents walked Carmy out through the front of The Bear as Tina and a few waitresses walked toward the alley to enter the kitchen. “Jeff, what’s goin on?” Tina stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide with concern and fear. “Gettin’ arrested? Call Sugar.”

Carmy’s leg shook a mile a minute as he waited in an interrogation room; he stared at the door, wondering what he’d done to end up here. After what felt like hours, the door finally opened to reveal a well-dressed man; he chuckled as he closed the door. “Well, that makes sense,” he chuckled again “I’m special agent Jack Aubrey. Do you know why you’re here, Carmen?” “N-no.” Jack continued to chuckle as he sat across from Carmy. “You really don’t know why you’re here, Carmen?” Carmy shook his head “I was just doin’ prep at my restaurant, and these guys bust in-” “Okay, Carmen. I could arrest you for any number of things. But I’m feelin’ a bit generous. I’ll cut you a deal.” Jack explained as he pulled a folded paper out of his jacket pocket, ensuring Carmy could see the gun attached to his belt. “Come here. Tomorrow. 9 AM. If you don’t, I’ll arrest your ass during dinner service. Think that’ll be good press for you, Carmen?” “O-o-ok.” “Good. You’re free to go.”

Sugar gripped the steering wheel of her car. Her knuckles were turning white from just how intensely she held it “Fuck I need to smoke.” she sighed. Carmy shrugged, “Thank you, Natalie.” “What the fuck did you do?!” “I don’t know!” Carmy yelled back just as loud as Sugar. She parked in an underground structure of what appeared to be an incredibly fancy office building. She shook her head as she hit the steering wheel, “Carmen Anthony Berzatto. I swear to fuckin’ god, I’m going to skin you alive if you speak without my okay in there. Do you understand?” Carmy nodded with wide eyes; he’d seen Sugar stressed. He’d seen Sugar upset. He’d seen Sugar angry. But he’d never seen Sugar like this. “O-o-okay Natalie.”

The two took the elevator up to the 17th floor like the instructions had told them. Natalie looked at her phone. It was 9 AM on the dot. The two walked into a law office. Carmy immediately recognized Jack from the day prior but didn’t know the other man he was speaking to. “So, I got tickets to the fight on Saturday. Jess hooked us up with reservations at some super fancy steakhouse before, and then after, we could probably just bar hop or somethin’.” “Anything sounds fine, Bren.” Jack chuckled, and Sugar greeted the men. Bren greeted her back while Jack glanced at his phone “She’s on her way.” he said to Bren before slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket. Carmy noticed he wasn’t armed this time.

“Why was my client-” Sugar started to say before being cut off by a familiar voice. “Bren, I am sorry I’m late. Brunch prep went longer than I thought. But I did bring you those sourdough popovers you like. I also have strawberry compote and jalapeno cream cheese.” Carmy turned his head and saw her, “El?” he noted how her once short blue hair had changed to a shaggy style in a more natural red color. Her eyes still sparkled like stars in a night sky behind thick dark eyelashes and her signature winged eyeliner. Of course, he’d noticed her plump lips were just as kissable as they had been eight years ago. Eight years… how did Carmy let her get away? Her aesthetic may have changed, but she was still his Ellie. “Hey, CAB.”

Carmy goes in to hug Ellie “Wow, I haven’t- how are you?” Carmy asked, smiling from ear to ear “Pretty good. I opened my breakfast spot down in DC. Had to come stage with Omar from culinary school while I was in Chicago. You took over your family restaurant, right?” Carmy nodded “Yeah, kinda changed it into my dream- except no Mikey…” “Yeah, I heard about that. I’m so sorry.” “It’s all good-” Carmy was cut off by Bren clearing his throat, “Let’s step into my office.” “Of course, Bren- sorry, I haven’t seen Carmy forever. So, CAB, do you remember that trip to Vegas?

“Fuck I love you.” Carmy laughed, burying his head in her shoulder nipping at her collarbone. Ellie giggled and gently tugged at his hair “I fuckin’ love you too.” The two sat in silence, “We should get married.” Carmy said assertively, “What?” “Look, it’s one of those chapels- fuck it, right?” Ellie laughed “Will you marry me, Carmen Anthony Berzatto?” “Of course, Elanor Elizabeth- what’s your last name again?” “Dam Carm- two years. We’ve been fuckin for two years, and you don’t know my last name?” Carmy shrugged “You can just take mine.”

“Where’s Ellie?” Carmy asked as he walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Airport. She got the call about that European training program she applied to.” one of the other guys who’d come on the trip clarified. “She-” “You were passed out by the hot tub, dude. What did you guys do last night?” “I don’t remember,” Carmy yawned as he stretched his arms above his head “I think we did something crazy…” “Anal in a hot tub?” Carmy rolled his eyes “Nah, she’s not into that.”

Carmy had tried to reach out to Ellie when she was in Europe, but they were on opposite schedules. She stopped texting him back a few months into her time there. Carmy got busy, and she wasn’t around. He found a new girl to spend his minimal free time with, and Ellie went from the girl he’d secretly loved for two years to just being a notch on his belt. Maybe if he’d taken her on actual dates or spent time with her fully clothed, things wouldn’t have fizzled out the way they had.

“So I need both of you to sign these papers. Unfortunately, this is a divorce, so it will take some time to process- Ellie, you will still have your spooky wedding, or you can shave my eyebrows off- There will be no property division. Shouldn’t take too long to process.” Ellie and Carmy both shook their heads. They both signed copies of the paperwork, and Bren grinned “Okay. In 30 days, what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas.”

“How much longer are you in the city for?” Carmy asked Ellie as she grabbed her purse from the floor. “Probably a few more days. I want to visit some other friends and check out this deli downtown.” Carmy nodded “Come check out The Bear.” “To dine or to Stage?” “Why not both?” Ellie laughed “You’re such a bitch, Berzatto.” “So, see you tomorrow at 3?” Ellie rolled her eyes and shoved Carmy playfully “You know it.”

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #the bear fan fiction #natalie berzatto #richie lipschitz #sydney adamu #tina the bear #marcus the bear #carmy berzatto x fem!reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months ago

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Teeth

Pairing: Vicious fic w/ EO!fem!reader (nonspecific to preserve the feel/suspense!)

Summary: The war between Victor Vale and Eli Ever is just beginning, and you find your place in it.

Warnings: spoilers for Vicious, graphic depiction of open heart surgery, violence (not exactly torture but it's on the bloodier side of things), angst, fluff at the very end

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

A/N: I got this idea while listening Teeth by 5SOS. I used the lyrics and highly recommend the song because it's great.

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Victor Vale Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Steady,” you demand. “It has to be all the way to the heart. Without direct access, this will never work.”

A moment later, you can see into his chest cavity, his heart beating within reach. As you place your hand around it, his life becomes yours.

Eli Ever gasps as he wakes. He sits up, breathless, before he realizes it was just a dream. You would never do that to him, he knows. Eli looks over his shoulder, and you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. Beside him, peaceful. You stir as he turns to face you, smiling in your sleep as he brushes his fingers over your cheekbone.

“Some days you’re the only thing I know,” he whispers. “Only thing that’s burning when the nights grow cold.”

“Nightmare?” you ask without opening your eyes.

Eli hums, and you place your hand on his and encourage, “You’ll heal from it. Just like you heal from everything else.”

“Yeah,” Eli agrees under his breath.

As he lies down, he can’t look away from you. Something inside of him pushes him to beg you to stay, make you promise to be there when he wakes up in the morning, but as you move closer to him, he knows he doesn’t have to beg. You’ll be there.

“Eli!” you yell from the other room. “Focus.”

Eli follows your voice, then pauses in the doorway of your shared bedroom to watch you. On the bed, you’re leaning forward with your head in your hands, whispering something to yourself.

“You okay?” Eli inquires.

You chuckle and answer, “I’d be better if I could get a moment away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh before you stand and turn toward Eli. “I’m sorry.”

Eli shrugs, and pressure builds in his chest when you reach out for him. “It’s fine,” he assures.

“No, I… I guess I’m just feeling lost. That’s no reason to push you away. Stay with me?” You smile as you brush your fingers through his hair. “Please stay with me, Eli,” you whisper.

Eli can’t speak, the pressure around his heart turning into a gripping pain. He nods and pulls you close. Immediately, the pain disappears, and he’s left with nothing but you.

You can feel Eli looking around as if he thinks something is missing. Moments like these are becoming more frequent, and you’re unsure how to deal with them. One wrong step, and you know he could leave you forever. Or worse.

“Stay with me,” you murmur against his shirt, speaking directly to his heart. “I’ll beg you to stay, Eli.”

“Sometimes you’re a stranger in my bed!” Eli accuses. “I don’t know if you love me or you want me dead.”

You clench your jaw and pull your arms tightly across your chest. There’s a hatred for Eli inside you, and you’re powerless to hide it.

“Something in the way you’re looking through my eyes…” Eli adds. “I don’t know if I’m gonna make it out alive.”

“What do you want to hear, Eli?” you ask. “If I tell you I love you, you’ll think I’m lying, but if I agree and say I hate you and want you to leave, you’ll say I’m baiting you! I can’t keep playing this game.”

“You’re the best thing in my life, I look at you and I see my wife. Then you turn into somebody I don’t know.”

You step toward Eli, daring him to come closer and say, “Take what you want, Eli. You and I both know you’re too scared to ask for it and this relationship was doomed from the beginning. So, take what you need and run. I won’t be surprised if I wake up alone.”

Eli’s arms drop as his gaze hardens. For a moment, you think this is the end. Then, he mumbles, “I just need some air. I’ll… I’ll be back tomorrow.”

As the door closes behind him, you sigh. There’s a photo from Lockland on the table beside you, and your smile between Eli and Victor’s masks makes you reconsider everything. But tonight, you have something important to do. Then you can call Eli and apologize. If he answers.

Your leg bounces as the phone rings. Your relationship with Eli isn’t new, but there’s still so much you don’t know about him. Like if he’ll accept your apologies or the lies you insulate them with.

“Hey,” Eli answers.

“Hi,” you greet, pulling your knees toward your chest. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have said those things to you- to anyone, because they aren’t true.”

“No?”

“Of course not. I love you, Eli. I love you more than anything else in the world. But if you decided that there’s something else, someone else, out there that would be better for you-“ you pause and take a shaky breath – “then I love you enough to let you go.”

Eli is silent for several seconds after you finish. He muses, “You said you’d call me in the morning to apologize and every little lie gives me butterflies. Better is with you, you’re the only thing saving me from myself.”

“You’re coming home?” you ask, avoiding looking at the picture of Victor beside you.

“Yes. In a while. There’s something I need to do first.”

“Oh, okay. Be careful, Eli. I love you.”

The line beeps as Eli hangs up, and you look down at your empty hands, pristine despite the feeling of blood running between your fingers.

Eli knocks on the heavy wooden door, then steps back to wait. He knows the woman who lives here, yet he’s never been inside. Something about her makes it hard to argue and easy to tell everything. Maybe that’s why she’s such a good listener and gives worthy advice.

“Eli Cardale,” a woman says as the door opens. “Or is it still Ever?”

“Serena,” Eli greets. “You look good.”

“I know. Here for personal reasons or is this another Midnight Incorporated thing?”

“No, no, business is great,” Eli assures. “It’s personal.”

Serena smiles as she opens the door wider. “By all means, come in, then.”

Sitting in her home library, Serena offers Eli a cup of tea before she sits back to listen to his worries, stories, and everything else he never planned to share but seems to let slip. The first time he came by, he accused her of lacing the tea with something to inhibit his control. She laughed and brushed him off, and as he shares the details of his relationship with you, he doesn’t even remember that encounter.

“It’s like she… she’s the kind of person who can fight so dirty but her love’s so sweet, talk so pretty but her heart’s got teeth,” Eli explains.

“And last night?” Serena presses. “What did you think during your argument?”

“That she was a late-night devil,” Eli answers. “But even when she’s like that, pushing me, hating me, the only thing I ever want to do is beg her to put her hands on me.”

“It’s sounds like you think she has some kind of power over you. Here I was thinking Eli Ever couldn’t get hooked by a pretty girl.”

Eli scoffs as he raises his cup. “You’d know, huh?”

“We had good times together, you and I,” Serena defends. “But this is about you, here and now. What are you going to do about the girl you see a future with but can’t survive twenty-four hours with?”

“I need her,” Eli admits. “But there’s these moments, a sense of clarity, where it seems like everything is fake, something she’s manipulated me into believing to keep me in this- this vicious love.”

Serena sets her mug aside, leans forward, smiles, and encourages, “Then make your own reality. If you want the clarity, grasp it and pull until her love shatters around you.” She leans back and shrugs. “But if you want the future, figure out how to make it yours.”

Eli nods as he stands, not because he feels ready to leave but because something urges him to. He knows what he wants, and while Eli has the clarity to see that you’ve been manipulating him, hooking him into a false love that makes it impossible for him not to return, he pulls. And everything shatters around him.

When Eli blinks his eyes open, you are standing above him. He tries to smile, but then he sees the look on your face. The look Victor gave him after Eli killed himself. Like he’s a monster.

“Welcome back,” someone says on the other side of the room.

You step back, and Eli tilts his chin to watch you. His eyes widen when he sees you and everything else in the room.

“Back to what?” Eli asks, his throat dry and scratchy.

“Reality.”

There’s blood on your shirt, a rose in Victor’s hand. You’re looking at him like you don’t know who he is. When Eli left your manipulative reality, he wasn’t expecting to come to this.

Blood on your shirt, a heart in your hand, Eli thinks. My heart.

“What did you do?” Eli demands.

“Nothing you didn’t deserve,” you answer carefully. “Tell Victor thank you for the get well present.”

“Oh, no,” Victor interjects. “Thank her. She’s the one who decided you should have something beautiful.” He twists the stem, raising the flower toward the light. “A desert rose. Poisonous, perfect, and deadly.”

“You said you loved me,” Eli says, his eyes on you.

“I said a lot of things,” you reply, putting pressure on Eli’s heart. “The only time I meant what I said was when you thought I was lying. I’ve never loved you, and no one ever will.”

You shift and lower Eli’s heart back into place. Blood covers your shirt, runs down your arms, and drips from your fingers as Victor lays the poisonous rose across his exposed ribs. He removes the clamps holding Eli’s incisions open, and the skin begins knitting itself closed over his heart.

“Try healing around that, Cardale,” Victor says.

“What was it you told sweet Serena?” you ask, faux sympathy on your face. “That my heart has teeth? Well, there’s one thing you didn’t learn. Those teeth bite. And now that your heart has poison in it and thorns wrapped around it, we’ll see who’s really the monster.”

“Victor,” Eli grits out. “When I get out of here-“

“I’m shaking in fear,” Victor deadpans, “but I’m going to stop you right there. You’re not going anywhere. Welcome to purgatory, Cardale. Enjoy dying, over and over and over.”

As you follow Victor out of the sterile room, you grimace at having any trace of Eli on your skin.

The last thing Eli hears you ask is, “Vic, do you think insanity is spread through bodily fluids like hepatitis?”

On the other side of the door, Victor thanks you for your help, then tells you to leave.

“Yeah,” you agree sarcastically. “One thing you should learn from that is I don’t give up. And you’re stuck with me until Eli meets his true fate. I just determined his fate for three days; I’m not walking away yet.”

“You heard her,” Sydney calls from the end of the hall. “And from Eli’s girly screams, I’d suggest not picking a fight for her.”

Victor sighs but waves for you to follow them. Holding Eli’s beating heart in your hands was a good start, but this fight is just beginning. Luckily, your heart, teeth and all, is still beating.

#victor vale x reader #eli ever x reader #victor vale #eli cardale #sydney clarke #vicious ve schwab #villains duology #vicious #fem!reader #hanna writes✯#tw: injury #tw: violence

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