#domestic carmy

[hothammies]

should we get carrots tomorrow?

[neonovember]

So I currently have food poisoning and I can’t help but it think how mad Carmy would be if a restaurant gave his gf/wife food poisoning

Also Carmy come take care of me and make me soup plz 🙇‍♀️😫

Plus he would give the best snuggles 😭

firstly, sending lots of love and recovery, i've never actually had fp lmao so a lot of time on webmd will be spent. get ur fluids in! secondly, carmen might have to go underground for setting the restaurant on fire. we love him for it

summary: You were hungry and had just finished work and you didn't think about inspecting the goddamn Michelin star restaurant, maybe you should have.

warnings; cursing, food poisoning, richie (he's a warning), hipsters, talks of future arsony, possessive carmen, cracked fic ngl,

divider by @firefly-graphics

i'm slipping back into the unsafe territory of wanting fictional characters. (and i don't care)

You could roll your eyes in annoyance if you weren't hunched over the ceramic bowl of the toilet heaving out the contents of your stomach while Carmen held you hair back.

The one time, the one goddamn time you decide to try a new place without Carmen's input, without his meticulous standards and in depth research behind every night out.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to vet the new braised beef spot that opened up on west Avenue. In fact, you had heard all but stellar reviews from friends and family, meeting you with suprise hearing that Carmen hadn't taken you. You decided to bring home a small plate, their signature braised meat with plums, red onions and atrichocke hearts.

You had meant to share it with Carmen, and you were going to, but a botched catering order had him staying back another hour than what had been planned. And well..you say you tried to save some for Carmen, but despite its bacteria laced beef and vomit inducing sides it was pretty fuckin' good.

Was this God's wrath coming down upon you? Punishing you for your gluttony? Food poisoning did feel awfully close to perpetual hellfire.

The TV was blaring some indescriptive show, the kind with dramatic introductions and soap opera worthy screams. It helped fill the space of absence when Carmen worked long nights, and you felt quite comfortable wrapped up in a blanket with a full stomach and a warm sofa.

Your phone had pinged with the sound of Carmen's text, letting you know he was on the way when it started. At first you had written it off as mere indigestion, probably from shoveling the cursed meal into your mouth too quickly.

Then, around the time the show's main character had found out her boyfriend got her mother pregnant, the nausea set in. Swirling aches that felt like a whirlpool in your stomach had taken over, sloshing and swirling and never leaving. You couldn't mistake it, as you tried to swallow past a dry throat and the creeping sweats of a headache inducing fever began to ravage your body.

You hated sitting in discomfort, it wasn't as though you were afraid of vomiting no, you just could not bare to feel the way your stomach skipped and jumped with every wave of nausea that took over.

You thought of making yourself sick, but shook your head when the alarming disapproval of Carmen's voice loomed over.

"It's just gonna make it worse, you gotta sit with it till it passes"

Fuck him and his medical knowledge. What did he know?

You had ripped off the blanket that had once felt comforting, peeling of layers of clothing that stuck to your body like a second skin. You just felt hot, so hot, is anyone else feeling this heat? You try to move from the couch to reach your phone, but the sudden movement has nausea bubbling up your throat.

You fall to the ground in a heap, hand clasped around your mouth to stop the possibility of projectile vomiting on the rug you had just bought and shoot your hand up to reach for your phone.

You press Carmen's number, begging him to answer you in genuine crisis rather than when you were drunk with friends and missed him. You feel the urge to heave and crawl quickly to the bathroom, phone clasped in hand and suddenly desperately needed his medical knowledge.

Carmen phone rings from the behind the stack of documents in the office, and he hastily wipes his hands across his apron before trying to reach it before it rings out.

Guilt fills his stomach at the thought of you, he was meant to be home hours ago. The catering order needed a few extra hands to help, and once Carmen began he got lost in it, and now you had spent nearly the entire night alone.

"Fuck- Hey baby, I know I said I was comin' but I had to finish a couple things-" Carmen quickly responds as he swipes the call button.

The groan of pain that responds has Carmen freezing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Baby? What-, are you okay?" Carmen replies quickly, his voice going short as his mind turns every possible scenario that had you whining in pain over the receiver.

"Please come quickly, Carmen I think I might-" You gulp and make a retching sound "I think I got sick from that place I was telling you about" You plead out, breathing heavily into the speaker.

The guilt that had filled Carmen seems to morph into an anger that rushes up his chest as he shakes his head.

"The new place? The one with the fuckin' smoke meat? They did this?"

"Mhm" You mumble "I should've just listened to you" You groan out in sadness.

"Fucking idiots. How the fuck did they even? Okay, okay honey just gimme a second yeah?"

How did he let this happen? Carmen has half the mind to stop at the restaurant that more of a Instagram attraction that a respected place of business. You were so eager and excited t try it, Carmen had his own thoughts but would glue his mouth shut if it meant making you happy.

He'll make sure they get shut down, or at least black listed from Chicago as long as he's concerned. His hands shake with the eager want for the fight, to smash someones jaw for resorting you to a heap of tears and sick. He would, he knows he will, but at this moment he needed to take care of your first.

He mumbles out a rushed reply, phone between his shoulder and ear as he slips out of his work shoes and into his sneakers. He thinks for a moment to grab his things but immediately shut that thought out when he hears you groaning into the phone.

"Just stay on the phone okay? I'm coming now, I need to get you some things alright?"

You let out what you hope is a reply, hunched over the toilet.

Carmen rushes to the store fridge, grabbing containers of soup Tina had prepared for family as the Chicago winter was getting close.

"You alright kid?" Richie mumbles, walking into the kitchen entry way, scratching his stomach as he watched Carmen's erratic movements around the store.

"Fuckin-, she's sick. And I'm here chopping up tomatoes for fucking Guy while she was in pain for god knows how long-"

"Woah, Bugs sick? We talking COVID or.."

"I'm such a fucking idiot. No it's not COVID Rich, Jesus Christ. Some rookie new spot trying something outside of their abilities gave her food poisoning. Fuckin' hipsters"

"Oh that's bad. You know when I got food poisoning the one time I took Tiff to this romantic getaway. Had me projectile vomiting in the AirBnb bathroom. Couldn't even get a deposit back, had to pay some dumb ass cleaning fee-"

Carmen wipes a hand across his face shaking his head. He was already pent up, he might throw a pan at Richie if he doesn't stop talking.

"Richie, I don't have time for this, I need to get her some Sprite or"

Richie shuffles across to the cupboard near the back of the house, grabbing bottles of Gatorade and a pack of saltine crackers.

"How do you even have this stuff lying around"

"You're the one with the inhuman alcohol tolerance Carmy, someone of us actually have hangovers you freak" Richie retorts

"Yeah yeah, thanks. Fuck- I gotta" Carmen replies, to which Richie nods.

"Go. I'll wrap up anything here" Richie replies, understanding in his voice. You took precedence over pretty much everything in Carmen's life.

"And Carm?"

"Yeah?" Carmen calls out, slipping on his jacket as he turns to Richie

"Tell me when we're going to sort out those bearded wearing flannel ass wipes"

Carmen shakes his head with a smile, before nodding and pushing past the kitchen doors. The traffic lights better be green green fuckin' green tonight.

You were stripped to a singlet and sleeping shorts as you knelt over the toilet, blinking back exhausted tears at the state of you.

You suppose you have no one else to blame but yourself, but the indignation righteousness burns almost as bright as the acid reflux crawling up your throat.

You hear the faint opening and loud clang of the apartment door opening and closing and you sigh in relief as you hear the familiar footfalls of Carmen down the hall.

It had felt damn near torturous suffering without him, and as he calls out to you following the trail of loose clothing he spots your figure in the bathroom sprawled.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry" Carmen says

And it was as if your body needed to finally feel safe in Carmen's presence before you felt the nausea spill out of you and splash offensively into the toilet.

You feel Carmen crouch above you, dragging your hair that had gone loose from it's wrapped up do away from your face. Gently rubbing your back, his large hands softly dipping up and down your spine.

"That's it, 'atta girl. Let it all out" Carmen coo's softly

You purged the insides of your stomach into the toilet bowl, retching loudly with every heave as Carmen comforted you. After what seemed like hours, and the nausea had subsided Carmen carefully wrapped his arms up under your armpits picking you up of the floor.

"Slowly, yeah? You damn near emptied out you're entire water content" Carmen murmurs, flushing the toilet and helping you walk to the basin and wash out the taste of bile from your mouth.

"I probably look insane" You cry out, blinking back exhaustion from your eyes as Carmen shakes his head furiously.

"Never, my pretty girl. Need you to go easy okay? Gonna take you to bed and let you sleep through it. Can't have you collapsing on me" Carmen murmurs, wiping at the edge of your mouth, patting the sweat that stuck to your forehead.

You let Carmen carefully maneuver your body, one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back walking to the bedroom. Your wring dry and can barely keep your eyes open as Carmen placed you on the cool sheets you immediately moan at.

You hear the faint rustle of movement as Carmen brings in a paper bag. The clunk of bottles placed on the bedside table as you sing praise for the very short bit of relief you have before the next bout of nausea rolls in.

Carmen pads to the adjacent bathroom, the door opened so you can see the stream of light that illuminates him. Hes running a cloth under water, squeezing the excess and looking up to check on you every so often.

He looked so...domestic, like he hadn't come back from working at one of the most decorated restaurants in Chicago. Stripped of his shirt so he stood bare chested, golden curls pushed behind his ears, sweatpants hung low on his hips and the furrow of his eyebrows in concentration and worry.

Your eyes flutter shut as you thank the midnight sky for bringing him to you, for keeping him for you, this one good thing that was yours.

The skies answer by the sound of his voice listing off all the things you will not be doing in this stage of recovery. Sitting on the edge of the bed as he places the cool rag against your forehead, lips between teeth as he feels your temperature under his skin.

"Just bone broth, Gatorade and bread sticks for you, doll. And no, before you even think it, its not the garlic ones." Carmen tsks.

You were thinking it. He knew you too well, but when he kisses your eyelids and measures out careful tips of the Gatorade bottle, you don't mind it.

[purposechef]

❤️ thank you for all the love since i started drawing these two emotionally stunted chefs. ❤️ i gotta go on an indefinite hiatus but all your kind comments and messages have meant so much to me and honestly, have encouraged me to be creative again after a long period where i simply wasn't. i really can't thank you all enough!

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

2x8 | 3x1

[thoughtfulchaos773]

[yourtoughtlessheart]

actually, no. not at ALL. i need sydcarmy to be so official we’ll have a scene of them laying in bed while sydney’s doing a crossword puzzle and he’s like simply THERE watching her. i want them to go out to restaurant dates where carmy draws all the dishes they have and they rate them together. i want them to have a FULL conversation about why garlic is the main ingredient to a recipe. i want sydcarmy to do little adventures together. i wanna see them open up to each other to the point that they just KNOW. OH, they’re journaling together at carmy’s coffe table and doing the dishes side by side while talking about the last baby thing nat’s daughter did. i want carmy to tell sydney exactly WHEN did he fell for her. i need this like i need money to live.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Logan Berzatto

Am I delulu? Yes.

Did I find parallels between Logan Wolverine and Logan Berzatto? Also yes.

Hear me out:

So Logan Wolverine is a lone wolf and constantly fighting the "beast" within him, has communication and anger issues and he blames the beast within him for his wife's death, and that guilt eats him away inside, he's highly traumatized since she died.

I have already mentioned that Carmy's whole arc is basically this:

And that Guilt is one of his main drivers:

Trauma is another:

Plus, "his nature" is affecting Syd, not killing her Marvel style, sure, but she's not loving it either, am I right or am I right?

And also, Logan Berzatto is not real, just like Logan Wolverine, whose real name is: James Howlett.

That's another reason why Carmy could escape the benign narcissist’s trap (at least for now) because she went for Carmy, but he served her Logan and Logan is not real.

That being said, I watched ALL the movies and this show for the plot. OFC.

[papercranium]

by the way...this is just to say that i am finishing up a sydcarmy fic (finally) in which they go furniture shopping at ikea. and it is coming SOON i swear

[wonwoosthetic]

‧₊˚✧ requests currently open for…✧˚₊‧

kpop…

seventeen

pedro pascal…

javier peña

frankie morales

din djarin

joel miller (hbo and pixel joel ˙ᵕ˙)

the walking dead…

daryl dixon

the bear…

mikey berzatto

richie jerimovic

other…

ellie williams (mother/older sister-figure!reader)

a/n: this list will get updated whenever i change for who i‘m currently writing for ˙ᵕ˙

[afrofairysblog]

I know S3 is going to be full of angst, but.... I want these two weirdos to have fun, and I just know they are going to have fun in their own way like it's their own secret tehehee

btw it's extremely important for sydcarmy to be silly together bc carmy's never had someone to do shenanigans with before

[purposechef]

somewhere in an alternate, more tender universe

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

New Girl 6x15 | The Bear 2x3

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Headcannon, when Carmy gathers the kids for school.

Hedcannon, when Mom and Dad cook Sunday dinner:

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hey!!

could i maybe get a roommate fic where carmy’s getting ridden and about to come and has no filter so it slips out that he loves her

Baby, Please.

it’s been on the tip of his tongue for too long. it was only a matter of time.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmy’s a bit pathetic at some points in this (you’re welcome)

word count - 2.4k

authors note - ah shit, here we go again. I always end writing carmy as a little bitch in these, sorry lmao (i’m not). but here it is!! a love confession!! will they ever talk about anything, I hear you ask? we’ll see…

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

Carmen automatically smiles when he hears your keys clinking against the lock in the front door.

As soon as he clocks it, he rolls his eyes at himself. You’re not supposed to get butterflies in your stomach when your roommate comes home on a random Thursday evening.

And yet here he is, sitting on the couch, trying to play it cool - as if he hasn’t been waiting for your return for the last hour and a half.

You’re usually back from work before he is, and suddenly he’s grateful for it. He couldn’t do this everyday. Sitting, waiting for you to come home as if you’ve been gone for months rather than nine or so hours. The apartment feels a little bigger, a little colder without you in it. Carmy wonders how he lived here for so long without you.

You swing the door open, kicking off your shoes instantly. Throwing your bag onto the counter, you take in the sight of your home. It’s clean, tidied, more organised than you’ve seen it in a while. Carmy’s been putting the work in while you’ve been gone.

“What happened, Carmen? Are you okay?”

“W-what?”

“Were you stress cleaning?”

He laughs, all full and warm.

“No, babe. Just regular cleaning.”

He rises from the couch, coming over to press a kiss into your cheek before slipping your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it up behind you.

“Carmen, what’s that smell?”

“Tomato and basil slow baked rigatoni. Homemade garlic bread. And then, if you have any room left… my homemade snickerdoodles.”

“Did you… cook for me?”

“Yes I did, baby. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been at work all day.”

It’s all so domestic, so thoughtful, so heartfelt, that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You step forward into his space, looping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. He grins at you when you pull away.

“What was that for?”

“A thank you,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I really won the roommate lottery, huh?”

“We both did,” he chuckles, covering your face in kisses while you squirm in his arms.

Eventually, he lets you go, but not before raking his eyes up and down your figure very slowly. He takes you in - your work clothes, the way your hair is falling out slightly, your bare feet. As much as you want to let him devour you, you’re starving. A different kind of hunger to his.

“Dinner first. That after.”

“What after?” he plays coy, trying to fight the smirk off his face.

“Don’t play dumb, Berzatto. It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, you leave the kitchen to get changed, laughing as you go.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You sink further into Carmy’s side on the couch, trying desperately to pay attention to the vintage sitcom that’s playing on the TV.

All you can focus on are the rough fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. They keep getting higher, brushing the seam of your pyjama shorts occasionally. Every so often, Carmy leans in to press a kiss onto your temple, into your hair, behind your ear. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I could eat that pasta every day for the rest of my life and die a happy woman.”

Carmy laughs, and the sound rumbles through both of you.

“I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You sit up, then, turning in your seat to look him in the eyes.

“Carmen. You cook for me almost every day.”

“Yeah, but… not really.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Most of the time when I’m cooking at home, I’m trying a new recipe, or perfecting an old one - for the restaurant. And then we both eat it for dinner. But tonight, I actually picked a recipe I knew you’d love, and made it for you. Because I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as you do it.

“You know I don’t mind either way, right? Whatever you make is always delicious. Except for that weird duck mousse from last week. That was… awful.”

He shoves you playfully, laughing when you topple backwards onto the couch cushions. Climbing onto you, he digs his fingers into your ribs, chuckling as you try to squirm away from him.

“Stop, before I kick you in the stomach or something,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and keep him still.

When that doesn’t work, you resort to dirtier tactics. You roll your hips up into his, watching as his face changes when he realises what you’re doing. The tickling stops, replaced by fingertips gripping your sides in a completely different way.

“Fuck,” he murmurs into your neck as he drops his head down. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Minx.”

“Well you wouldn’t stop, so…”

“You’re usually telling me not to stop, honey. ‘Oh, Carmen, don’t stop baby, don’t stop’…”

You laugh as he mocks you, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You still want me though, huh?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, tension thickening in the air. Carmy’s eyes go dark as he looks down at you, gaze raking across your face. You nod in response to his question, chewing at your bottom lip.

“You gonna let me thank you for dinner properly, Berzatto?

Who is he to say no to an offer like that?

You tighten your legs around his waist and pull his hips down to yours, flipping you both over on the couch. You settle with your thighs on either side of his, your weight keeping him anchored down to the cushions.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your gentle fingertips. “Pretty, pretty boy.”

Carmy’s hips buck up into yours at the praise.

“You’re so fucking predictable,” you giggle as he groans. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Love what?”

His voice is all strained and breathy already, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Being my bitch.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his tightening grip on your waist gives him away. You lean in to press your forehead to his, breathing him in for a moment. Carmy tilts his head up to meet your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you whine.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, melding your lips against his. You let him explore your mouth, winding your hips down into him in a steady motion. You lean back to pull his shirt over his head, yours following suit shortly afterwards and ending up in a pile on the floor.

Carmy kisses his way across your chest, nipping and sucking as he goes. You’re way past the don’t leave marks stage. Neither of you care anymore. You rake your nails down his stomach, smirking when he shudders, goosebumps rising across his skin.

You tip forward to bite at the muscle of Carmy’s neck, licking a stripe up his throat as you go. He tastes like his minty shower gel and cinnamon sugar from the snickerdoodles. It’s the perfect combination to make your mouth water.

He tangles his fingers into the waistband of your pyjama shorts, trying to tug them down. You go to stand up to help him, but the whine he lets out stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“Carmen, if you want my pants off, you need to let me stand up.”

“You can do it here.”

He pulls you back down into his lap, ignoring your raised eyebrows. You manage to slip your shorts and panties down one leg, rising awkwardly on the other to try and get them off. You kick them to the floor, chuckling as you settle back over Carmy’s hips.

“Happy now?”

“Very happy,” he mumbles, reattaching his lips to your jaw. “The happiest. Got the prettiest girl in the world naked in my lap right now.”

Heat rises across your chest at the compliment, head ducking down to avoid his eyes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, tugging down the waistband of Carmy’s sweatpants.

You pull them and his boxers off in one fell swoop, dropping them onto the floor. When you take him in your hand, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Wait, baby.”

You freeze instantly, finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong. Just need to get you ready first.”

You shake your head, gentle smile on your face. He’s always thinking about you. Selfless boy.

“I am more than ready, Carmen.”

When he looks at you with skepticism in his eyes, you decide to make a point.

You trail your fingers down your stomach, pulling them through your wetness when you reach it. Sliding a digit inside, you rock your hips, throwing your head back. You can both hear how ready you are, and it makes Carmy groan.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s whispering in awe, careful not to spook you when you’re so clearly in your own little world. You add another finger, and Carmy has to grip your hips as hard as he can to stop himself from flipping you over and having his way with you.

You remove your fingers and shove them straight into Carmy’s mouth, panting as he laves his tongue around them. You both whine in unison. Always so in sync.

“I’m more than ready,” you whisper into his jaw. “Promise.”

“I believe you,” he croaks, wrecked already. “Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You line him up, sinking down ever so slowly. You want to feel every inch, every ridge, every movement. You don’t want to miss anything.

You both drop your heads back in bliss, chests heaving against each other. You’re adjusting, while Carmy’s trying to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want it to be over too quickly, but it so easily could be if he isn’t careful. He runs his hands up and down the bare skin of your back, admiring how soft you are.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby.”

“You feel so good. So big, Carmen. Fuck.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you can’t help but tease, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Talk like that. Fuck.”

“Oh,” you laugh in fake realisation. “You like it a little too much, huh?”

He leans his head forward to rest on your chest, gasping when you lift your hips up to drop them back down. It’s all so slick, so easy. It’s like you’re made for each other, made to fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

You can’t help but want to push him a little further. He’s always so quietly domineering, so seemingly in control, that you love when he allows himself to fray at the edges slightly. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off.

“So you don’t want me to tell you how you’re filling me up just right? That you’re so big, that you feel so fucking good? That I could sit here for hours? That I’ve never had it like this with anyone?”

Carmy’s hips buck up involuntarily, and you chuckle a little cruelly.

“Baby, please.”

“Okay, Carmen. Okay.”

You press a sugary sweet kiss to his lips before settling your hands on his broad shoulders to give yourself some stability. You set a steady rhythm, winding your hips up and gliding them back down with a clear purpose. Your knees ache, and your hips are being held open a little too wide, but you feel delirious with it, high off the pleasure. It’s good. So good.

“Shit, honey. Fuck. S’good, yeah? So good. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You’ve always found his babbling amusing, but right now there’s nothing funny about the way the sound of his voice pushes you undeniably closer and closer to the edge. You never want him to stop talking.

Carmy moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, rubbing soft but intentional circles onto your clit. It sets your nerves alight, whole body buzzing with anticipation.

You keep your rhythm going, even as it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. You can feel that Carmy’s close, that he’s sitting on a knife’s edge waiting for you. You realise, suddenly, that you want him to come before you. You want to undo him.

You move one hand to tangle in his hair, while the other settles at his throat. You don’t squeeze too hard, just enough to turn his moans into breathy little ah ah ahs.

“Baby, please. Fuck, so close. So good, honey. You’re so good.”

Your grip tightens in his curls, making him groan. Your hips get faster, and so do his fingers on your clit, the pressure more insistent now.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop baby. Fuck, I love this. I love you. Keep going, so close. Atta girl.”

Your brain is too lost in your actions to register his words. Instead, you press your forehead to his, kissing him gently in contrast to the violent slam of your hips. This juxtaposition seems to be Carmy’s undoing, his grip on your hip tightening so much you hope it’ll bruise.

He emits the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard when he comes, which sends you straight over the edge. You tighten like a vice, whole body shuddering with it. Your climax seems to last forever, every single one of your nerves fried and frayed.

You both come down slowly, foreheads pressed together and lungs heaving. You’re panting into his mouth, smoothing out his hair where your fingers have ruffled it. Carmy’s arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest as he presses a kiss to your temple. You sit like this for a while, completely at peace in each other’s company.

Eventually, after what could have been hours but was probably minutes, you break the silence.

“So we should probably talk about the I love you, huh?”

@jazminsjaz @buendiabebeta @kingsqueensandvagabonds

[deunmiu-dessie]

𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒶'𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

started ⸺ 04.12.24 ༉‧₊˚.

last update ⸺ 08.26.24 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

𝒷𝓊𝓎 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝑒? | about me! | side blog ( where i post late night sloppy drabbles and my fav reblogs from you guys! ) | ˙ᵕ˙

𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝓊𝓉𝓎 ༊*·˚

( S F W )

simon "ghost" riley - baking with him, a piece of you, simon's punishment, it's you

john "captain" price - domestic husband, first meeting, even a worm will turn

kyle "gaz" garrick - infatuated with you, his world, would u love me if i were a worm?, redamancy

john "soap" mactavish - obsession ⁽ˢᵗᵃˡᵏᵉʳ ᵃᵘ!⁾

( S F W ALPHABET )

john price ♡ 𝒶⸺𝓏

simon riley ♡ 𝒶⸺𝓏 ⁽ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ!⁾

kyle garrick ♡ 𝒶⸺𝓏 ⁽ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ!⁾

soap mactavish ♡ 𝒶⸺𝓏 ⁽ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ!⁾

( N S F W )

price ⸺ 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

gaz ⸺ 1 2 3

ghost ⸺ 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 ⁽ⁿᵉʷ!⁾

tf141 ⸺ 1

cod men rambles ⸺ with nsfw visuals

( N S F W ALPHABET ) w/p-links

john price ♡ 𝒶⸺𝓏

simon riley ♡ 𝒶⸺𝓂 ⁽ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵇ!⁾

kyle garrick ♡ 𝒶⸺𝓏 ⁽ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ!⁾

soap mactavish ♡ 𝒶⸺𝓏 ⁽ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ!⁾

( N S F W )

ghost ⸺ pornstar!ghost x camera!reader ghost ⸺ say, i love you ghost ⸺ the guard dog ⁽ⁿᵉʷ!⁾

ghost ⸺ ( short ) birds of a feather [ one, two ]

ghost ⸺ ( short ) stay [ one, two, three ]

𝒻𝓍 | 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇 ♡ ༘*.ﾟ🧸

( S F W )

carmen "carmy" berzatto - home, lagoon gaze,

𝓂𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 ⁺｡✩₊✩｡⁺

shade ( sfw )

monster!boyfriend ( nsfw )

dragon ( sfw )

minotaur ( nsfw )

werewolf ( nsfw )

gargoyle ( nsfw )

paralysis demon ( nsfw )

ghost ( nsfw )

( N S F W )

werewolf

ghost

ulysses ⁽ᵈᵉᵐᵒⁿ⁾ ⸺ 1 2

ahn'thu ⁽ʸᵃᵘᵗʲᵃ⁾ ⸺ 1 2

loran ⁽ᵒʳᶜ⁾

elias ⁽ᵛᵃᵐᵖⁱʳᵉ⁾

wendigo

goblins

drusyn ⁽ᵃˡⁱᵉⁿ⁾ ⁽ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵒⁿ!⁾

caspian ⁽ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ⁾ ⸺ 1

kallisto ⁽ᵛᵃᵐᵖⁱʳᵉ⁾ ⸺ 1 ⁽ⁿᵉʷ!⁾

( S F W )

nim'xen ⁽ᵃˡⁱᵉⁿ⁾

𝓂𝒾𝓈𝒸 ₊˚ෆ ˘͈ᵕ˘ֶ͈֢

mitachurl ( nsfw )

multifandom imagine ( sfw )

[dearpyramus]

Carmy picking up his baby mid panic attack because being with them just calms him down

He’s just rocking him against his chest and his own breathing steadies

(a/n: I’m so sorry this took so long!! hope u enjoy!!)

tags: nightmare, fluff, light angst ig, domestic

another night, another grueling nightmare.

he was all too familiar with jolting awake in a code sweat, hair sticking to his forehead and eyes practically blood shot. the routine of trying to quell rising sobs, like a dam holding together by a thread. not wanting to disturb your slumber, no matter how many times you reassured him that it was okay.

now, however, it was different.

it was almost primal, the urge he felt. as if this was unconsciously conditioned as soon as he became a father. all he knew was that he needed to see his baby. he needed to know that she was okay. as if something could have happened to her between the time he was briefly asleep.

he quietly made his way to the nursery, which he helped decorate in various flowers.

he let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding when he saw her fast asleep. at least, it appeared like she was asleep. upon further inspection he noticed her looking at him with those wide eyes, those eyes that reminded him of you.

“heyyy there. watcha doin up, hm?”

he cringed at how hoarse his voice sounded. he gently picked up the baby girl, holding her tightly. as if he was afraid she could drop.

he made his way to the rocking chair and sigh as he plopped down, exhaustion consuming him whole. he didn’t want to go back to sleep. not yet. not when his heart was still pounding in his chest. not when he was still shaking like a leaf.

as if she could sense her father’s distress, the baby squirmed a bit and let out a noise. this caused his heart to drop, the last thing he wanted was to upset her.

“hey hey hey, s’okay. daddy’s here. daddy’s gotcha. shhhhh”

he cradled her head which fit perfectly in his hand. his thumb rubbed soothing circles on her tufts of hair. he continued these motions as he began to calm down and continued to murmur to her.

she didn’t know it, but she helped him a lot that night