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

cloveroctobers · 11 months ago

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FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

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

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

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

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sydney says, “give it time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

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

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t clueless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

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

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

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

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

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

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

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

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

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

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

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

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

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

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

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

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

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watching you prep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is a sight to see.

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

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

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

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

“The hell is this place?”

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

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

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

“What looks good?”

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

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

“Sounds good...I guess?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not really my problem?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sydney.

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

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

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

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

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

Communication was important people!

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

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

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

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

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I saw you—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

If you believe in that shit.

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

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

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

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

“What’s funny?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the rating?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet.”

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

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

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

“I said that?”

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

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

Someone just had to look hard enough.

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

“What do you want?”

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

“You swore off love.”

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

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

Maybe.

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

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

“How’d—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

241 notes · View notes

orbitariums · 1 year ago

Text

home this christmas | carmen berzatto x black reader smut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yes ma'am,” he relented.

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

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

your sister scoffed,

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

your sister laughed and pulled you into a hug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“open it.”

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

“y’all look what my man got me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“oh forever.”

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

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

“yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“carmy,” you whined. “can feel you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

carmen nearly snorted,

“need it that bad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a soft smile tugging at your lips, you whispered,

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

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

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

his forehead.

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

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

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

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

“try me,” you grinned devilishly.

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