#sydney adamu drabble

[heavenbarnes]

I'm losing it lately

Sydney Adamu x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with fem pronouns, swearing, pining and yearning, syd's general disdain towards reader at first, alcohol, carmy and richie are also (cluelessly) into reader, mentions of knives, mention of alcohol (syd drinks but reader doesn't), stripping, face sitting, fingering, finger sucking, body worship, syd's breaking into her dirty talk game (she also calls reader a slut (endearing) once in her head).

Word Count: 4.9k

Working title was "Notes on being Sydney's Lacy." This is loosely based off of Olivia Rodrigo's song 'Lacy' and the concept of thinking you hate a girl but you actually just want her to [REDACTED].

You.

It was as if everywhere Sydney looked, all she could find was you.

The glow in your eyes, the curl of your smile, the rise and fall of your shoulders every time you so much as laughed or ran a knife through a fresh vegetable.

From the moment Sydney rose in the morning, her slow routine to get her even halfway ready for the day ahead of her, to the train ride to the restaurant, to the cool walk up to the front doors. All she could think of was…

You.

Your voice was the first thing to catch Sydney’s ear when she walked into the locker room. Hanging up bags and fixing on an apron, the only sound she could even register was you.

Captivating Richie with just the way you sounded your words, you could’ve been reading him the phone book and it would’ve garnered the same reaction.

That was just the way you were. Richie hung on your every word, Carmy’s eyes followed you as you swept through the kitchen, even Fak found himself more distracted than usual when you breezed past.

Sydney, on the other hand, was less mystified by your “charms.”

She tried to sneak into the kitchen unnoticed, get to her station and get her prep done quickly and painlessly. As usual, Sydney had little say in what would actually occur.

The hand that holds the cards was always you.

“Sydney,” The way you said it was almost like a sigh, a sigh of relief, a breath that was held.

Your smile, wide eyed and pretty. You looked utterly sweet, like spun sugar, like something to break your teeth on, like stuck to your fingers and not going anywhere.

“How are you this morning?”

Sydney had to fight not to roll her eyes, undoing her knife bag as she shrugged her shoulders. “You know, same shit, different day.”

It didn’t deter you, if anything you nodded with a knowing smile. Your shoulder worked over time, spatula in hand as you folded in whatever was in your bowl. You dipped your eyes for only a moment before you fixed back on Syd.

“Are you coming tonight?”

It had almost escaped her, Sydney had almost forgot the drinks that the rest of the team had organised for tonight. Team building, strengthening the relationship of the kitchen.

Sugar was actually the first to suggest it, Carmy wasn’t too sure until he’d heard your excitement. You’d clapped your hands together, exclamations of how fun it’d be. You even tried to get Syd in agreement but it wasn’t that easy. Suddenly, Carmy was a lot more onboard with the idea.

Go figure.

Sydney had tried to feign other responsibilities, that she wouldn’t be able to make it. Now it was down to the day and there was nowhere for her to hide. She also knew that if she didn’t show up, Carmy would make her life hell about it.

Snapping back into focus, Sydney realised that there were expectant eyes on her. Your expectant eyes, never wavering, still the kindness and sticky sweetness behind them.

Sydney had also realised that, when she walked in, Richie had been in the middle of chewing your ear off. She also realised that you’d completely stalled his conversation for the chance to have this meaningless back and forth with her.

She felt her shoulders tense at the idea of it. Just what were you getting at?

“Uh, yeah- sure, I’ll be there.”

Your eyes lit up like you were staring into the sun. Your cheeks rose high and your eyes squinted just a little as you nodded your head.

“Good, looks like I will be too then.”

Sydney couldn’t take it, she took a knife from the fold and dropped her head to focus on her prep. Thankfully, she could hear Richie’s voice pick back up and do his best to get the discarded conversation back on track.

That made it easier, she found herself running right through her prep without having to deal with the thought of you. It made things a breeze, her technique was better, things were more aligned.

Of course, the moment she lifted her gaze across the bench, you were already looking at her as Richie’s words went in one ear and out the other.

Lord give her strength.

-

Sydney did not want to be in a bar, that was one thing for sure.

A second thing, she did not want to be here with the team.

Sure, she loved these people, but after a long day on her feet she actually wanted to be in bed watching another aimless show about luxury real estate.

She’d fall asleep to the dulcet tones of a turn key cliffside mansion with marble counter tops and she’d dream of rolling dough against them. She’d imagine the flour falling from her fingertips and stopping the mixture from sticking.

Sydney would feel the cool breeze of her dream drifting through the sliding doors from the infinity pool area, and she’d hear the creak of the glass as someone pushed it open. Like always, her dreams would betray her and there you would be.

You’d walk towards her like you owned the place, the towel would be draped around you and slowly starting to fall when Sydney would wake up with a start, quickly turning off the television.

Thankfully, she’d be saved from that nightmare.

Anyway, that’s where she wants to be. Not here, not in this dimly lit bar where the music is a bit too loud and definitely not her taste.

Not here where Carmy is buying you a drink and trying to ask you questions with his lips just mere moments from your ear.

She imagined his breath was sweaty, that it’d tickle the side of your neck and you’d shiver a bit and wish that he’d stop and just let you thank him for the drink.

Her thoughts were confirmed, in a way, when she saw you nod politely and give him a half hearted cheers with your glasses. She watched the way your head rolled around the bar, eyes scanning until they fell on what you were looking for.

You found her. She watched you watch her and immediately you were walking her way.

For fucks sake.

Sydney tried to pretend she couldn’t see you coming. She tried to focus on the way Richie was angrily gesturing from you to Carmy. She thought she could hear something about “I told you I was buying her drinks!”

It was hard to ignore you when you came up right beside her, giving her a quick wave along with your smile. “You having fun?”

What a question. Sydney had been standing on the wall since you all arrived, nursing just one drink that was now melted ice cubes. Her stupid little paper straw was disintegrating and her hand was wet with the condensation of the glass.

Was she having fun?

“Yeah, course I am.”

She watched the way your eyebrows raised, nodding like you almost believed her. You leaned in just a little bit as you spoke.

“Then act like it.”

Sydney was about to argue when she felt your hand close around the glass she’d been protecting. You slid it out her grasp and spoke up again.

“Can’t be having much fun with an empty glass, I’ll get you another.”

Sydney tried to stop you.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to.”

“You don’t know what I’m drinking-“

You stopped, your head turning over your shoulder and she thought you might’ve even looked a little bit happy that she was following you to the bar.

“Yes I do.”

You placed her glass down and signaled to the bartender. Unsurprisingly, he dropped everything and made his way straight towards you. His eyes almost sparkled as he listened to exactly what you had to say.

“Tom Collins, please.” As you spoke, you tapped two fingers on the rim of Sydney’s glass.

Within an instant he was turning around to prepare the cocktail and Syd took her chance to speak up.

“That’s not what I was drinking, I had a vodka soda.”

You leaned against the bar as you smiled at her. “I know, but it’s what you wished you were drinking.”

Sydney’s face scrunched in confusion. You weren’t exactly wrong, if anything, you were absolutely correct. But how did you know that-

“Family dinner, can’t remember which one, you said it was your favourite cocktail and the first one you learnt to make.”

She didn’t get it, her face shook a little as she struggled with the words. “How could you remember that?”

“How could I forget?”

Thankfully the bartender reappeared with a tall Tom Collins and eyes that were only for you. “Anything else, sweetheart?”

Your face never changed a shade until you turned towards Sydney, looking to her expectantly. “Anything else?”

She felt herself shooting a gaze of disapproval towards the bartender, for reasons she couldn't place. She shook her head with a quick “no thanks.”

“No thanks.” You echoed, picking up your own drink and leaving the bar.

You didn’t even need to turn and check to know that Sydney was following you. She may not have wanted to, but she wasn’t really sure she could go anywhere else.

Finding the least sticky booth in the place, you let her slide in first before you followed her in. She took a quiet sip of the cocktail, enjoying the taste of lemon and pushing down the taste of being remembered.

You ran your finger around the rim of your glass, you didn’t say anything, didn’t look her way. Instead, you watched the rest of the room. You watched everyone milling about and chatting with each other.

Sydney wondered if you wished you were out there. If you wanted Carmy to keep trying to charm your pants off? If you wished Richie would get a little handsy by the pool table? Her eyes watched you as you tilted your head back towards her.

She thinks she saw contentment.

Very suddenly, you happened to turn your head the rest of the way and catch her staring. She felt caught, but she couldn’t find it in herself to look away.

You had been the thorn in her side since she’d met you, grating on her at your every move. The way you couldn’t leave her alone, always needing to know if she’s having a good day, always needing to know if she’d read any good books lately, always needing to work in the space next to her.

She thought about you endlessly. Everything you did, she found herself building it up just to tear it right down in her mind. Every word you said to her, every compliment that you threw her way was a coded message that only you both shared the solution to.

“God, Sydney, your plating is beautiful.”

Why were you scrutinising her work so intently?

“Can you show me how you do that one time? You’re so good at it.”

Why do you need to know? So you can do it better?

“Your hands, I can’t stop staring, they’re so steady.”

Why are you even looking at her hands? So you can be the first to tell when they shake?

“Syd, your bandana is so sweet. Where do you get those?”

That one, the way you’d listened intently with that look of endearment across your face. Only a week later for you to show up with a small parcel, delicately wrapped and in your outstretched hands. She’d peeled back the paper to see an ornate silk scarf, with the tiniest intricate detail around the borders.

You’d been the only person in the kitchen to remember her birthday. When the others had asked why you’d brought her a gift you’d answered like it was obvious. Sydney couldn’t even remember telling you when her birthday was. She sure as hell couldn’t understand why you’d care enough to bring her a gift.

Every waking (and even sleeping) moment of Sydney’s life, she found you there. At the very centre, burrowing your way in and refusing to give up your space. She couldn’t win. When you were around, she could barely breathe.

And when you weren’t there?

Total loss. Sydney knew from the moment she walked through the doors that something was off, the kitchen almost felt cold. It was quieter, it didn’t have that usual buzz that drew her in. She gave it at least an hour before she had to ask.

“Oh, she wasn’t feeling well so she’s taken the day.”

Carmy had said it so flippantly, like he couldn’t care less. He didn’t care that you were alone in your apartment. He didn’t care that you were having to look after yourself, when you really should’ve been resting.

You’d called him, your voice probably a little bit off and he hadn’t dropped everything to make sure you were alright. He hadn’t fired up the burner to make you an easy soup, one that would surely make you feel loved.

Sydney’s head felt like it was swelling that day. She’d managed to work through it but her last hour, she kept an ear out as the stock pot simmered behind her and the bread crusted nicely in the oven.

When you’d returned to work with the Tupperware, she’d silently watched you thank Carmy with a broad smile. His look of confusion irritated Sydney to no end as he stared back blankly.

“Oh, the note said it was from the whole team.”

Carmy was no help but it wasn’t like you’d needed it. Your eyes found Sydney’s for just a moment before she lowered her head back to the chopping board she was stationed at.

“Thank you, it was exactly what I needed.” You’d told her later, when you had the chance.

Sydney was going to play at not knowing what you were talking about, brush it off as someone else’s doing. That was until you placed your hand on her upper arm and squeezed once as you refused to break eye contact.

Instead, Sydney didn’t say anything at all.

So here you were, doing the exact same thing in this dark little corner of this dark little bar. Refusing to break eye contact as you shuffled a little closer to her in the booth.

You were everything that pissed Sydney off.

Finger swirling the rim of the glass again, like you knew she couldn’t take her eyes off it.

You were everything that kept her up at night.

Lips pursing around your straw, you took your last long sip.

You were everything that she wanted and needed.

Pushing both your glasses away, you turned until only your back was visible to the rest of the bar. Caging her in, locking her down. Keeping this between you two.

You were everything.

“Sydney?”

All the air had been sucked out of the room as your left arm rested on the booth behind her and your right hand lay against her knee.

“Mhmm?”

Your thumb ran back and forth across her knee, even through her jeans you could feel the way her skin was burning under your touch.

“Is this okay?”

Sydney felt like she might fucking die. Everything that she’d ever thought about you, every idea, every dream, it was all turning from a murky wash into full screaming colour.

“Well-“

All this time, every furious little fight she’d internalised against you, all those fits of frustration she’d found herself in. It was never actually anger.

“What’s up, Syd?”

Your fingers moved a little higher on her thigh as her heart fought to break out of her chest. It had all come down to this, her chance to stop living in her head and finally acknowledge what it really was.

Complete and utter worship.

Sydney sucked in a breath and shook it out, letting the little confidence she had take over. Her hand moved to rest against your waist, using it to pull you just a little bit closer so she could whisper her question.

“Can I take you home?”

She didn’t miss the way the corners of your lips quirked up at her question. You lent in just a little bit till she could feel your breath just beneath her ear.

“You can do whatever you want.”

-

Sydney couldn't believe she was crossing the threshold of your apartment, the concept was nearly overwhelming. She took in your furniture, your decorating, and for a small place it was so unequivocally you.

As she moved closer into your home her eyes flickered to your kitchen. She could imagine you there, against the kitchen bench, drinking the soup she'd made you and smiling as it warmed your chest.

She'd thought about what it might've looked like. Did you have a blanket draped around your shoulders? Were you just wearing a t-shirt that fell mid-thigh? When you took that first spoonful, did her creation make you moan?

Thankfully, you snapped her out of her own thoughts by placing her hand in your own and nearly dragging her through the place. She felt like your living room was whipping past her head at a great rate of knots and nothing could prepare her for what came next.

Stepping into your bedroom, all the blood rushed around her head and thumped in her ears. There was so much going on tonight.

Sydney thought back to the bar, the way your hand had squeezed her knee as you slid back out the booth. The way she'd held your hand as you led her away from the night. The disgruntled protests from Richie and Carmy as they watched her steal you away.

None of that mattered. Everything had come down to the fact that you had her at the end of your bed and your hands were sliding over her shoulders to push her jacket off.

You gently placed your hands on her hips to nudge her back until she was sat on the bed, looking up at you like you'd hung the moon. Stepping back, you couldn't miss the way Sydney's hands twitched against her thighs, like she was saying "don't go too far."

Smiling for her, you stayed put, hands reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. Her eyes moved from your face, down your chest (staying for a beat), and across to the waistband of your jeans. But you did notice the way they trailed right back to your face and her own smile grew.

Sydney spent every day looking at your face and even with her world at her fingertips, she'd look a little longer.

You were able to draw her attention back to your figure when you began to unbutton your jeans. Her breath caught in her throat and her wide eyes widened just that bit more as you began to shimmy them over your thighs and let them pool at your feet.

She watched you step out of them, kicking the discarded clothes aside and taking a couple of deliberate steps until you were stood between her thighs. Sydney's hands ran up the sides of your legs until they rested on your hips, touching you like you might break.

Moving them to your belly, she coasted them up and over the delicate lace of your bra. Steady hands curved around your breasts, just gently enough to map the lines of your body.

"This set is nice." She remarked, eyes quickly flickering to your matching panties before they moved back up to your eyes.

You giggled quietly as you nodded. "Thank you, I was hoping you'd like them."

Sydney had to take the moment to come to terms with this fact. That you'd woken up that morning and made the decision of which underwear to put on, with her in mind.

As she moved her hands again, you gently picked up one of them and brought them up to your face. Ever so carefully, you pressed the smallest of kisses to each pad of her finger.

Quickly as her heart fluttered, a determined heat settled in the pit of her stomach as your tongue ran up the length of her first and second finger. Sydney's mouth dropped open as she watched you wrap your lips around the tips of them before dragging her hand back to your chest.

"Your hands," You spoke, continuing to move it down until it her grasp rested on the band of your panties. "I've always been obsessed with your hands."

Her mind flashed back to the comment you'd made all those months earlier, how you couldn't stop staring. She thought about maybe how much sooner she could've been doing this if she had gotten out of her own way.

She couldn't dwell on that for long, not with the way you were moving in and perching yourself in her lap. Your thighs sat either side of hers and Sydney let her hands instinctively fall onto your waist.

Nose to nose, you could smell the lemon off the drink you'd brought her. She could feel your breath across her face and it was everything she'd imagined it would be.

You, like this, in her lap. That was quite honestly something she'd thought of many times.

Placing a hand on either side of her neck, you felt the weight of her braids resting atop your fingers. You'd only been trying to do this since you met the girl but you knew Sydney would be a tough one to crack.

But she was an uphill battle that would always be worth it for the view.

The view of her eyes shutting gently as her lips parted and she surged forward to capture your own lips. Her tongue immediately found its spot in your mouth, moving perfectly with yours and tickling the soft skin.

The tiny moan that left your throat and flooded into Sydney's mouth was swallowed right up by her. Hands holding you tight as she pulled your hips into her own, you let your own hands move up to her jaw.

You held onto her face, tilting it up so you could consume her whole. You'd finally got everything you wanted, there was no way you could let her go. Her hands lifted off your hip for a moment and you heard yourself whine at the loss of contact.

Syd snorted a laugh, only disconnecting your lips for a moment as she worked her own shirt off. Suddenly you could move your hands, running them down the smooth fabric of her cropped bra. Your hands cupped at her chest, feeling the swell of her breasts under your fingers.

Soon, you felt her arm slide under your behind as she began to shuffle back up the bed. She lay down beneath you, letting you perch above her as her hands went back to your waist.

Reaching behind you, you unclasped your bra, sliding the straps down your arms slowly before you tossed it behind you. Sydney did let her eyes fall on your bare breasts, taking in the sight before her.

Moving her hands, she cupped one breast in each hand with her fingers gently tweaking at your nipples. Your eyes began to roll, the tiny shocks of electricity ran through your body as she played with your most sensitive areas.

Your hands lay against her stomach, bringing them to her jeans were you began to unfasten them, slipping your hands underneath them to feel for the waistband of her underwear.

Hearing your name drift off her lips brought you back, your hazy eyes dropping back down to where she lay beneath you.

"Get up here and let me taste you." Sydney ordered in the same voice you'd heard every working day in the kitchen.

Like a switch turning on inside of you, you obediently shuffled up her body until you were hovering over her face. Your heart was pounding behind your ribcage, feeling her hands curve over your ass until they slipped beneath you.

Sydney hooked her fingers into the fabric of your panties, slipping them to the side as her other arm came over your thigh. She pulled you down until you were seated on her face, your cunt laying on the flat of her tongue.

She licked one long line from your entrance to your clit, circling it a couple times before she pursed her lips around it to suck. One of your hands went to your breast, pulling and tweaking at your nipple as the other hand shot out behind you to splay on Sydney's stomach.

You felt your hips roll into her mouth, riding the curve of her tongue as she moved it skilfully against you. Your mouth fell open, the sweet moans flooding past your lips and filling the room.

"Jesus Christ, Syd," You huffed out your words as you kept bucking your hips. "Just like that."

She hummed into you, affirming that she wouldn't change a fucking thing. Not if it meant you kept humping her tongue like that, sounding so pretty when you called out her name.

Her tongue moved around you just like it had in your mouth. It made its way in and commandeered the space. She knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly how to move to to elicit just what she wanted from you.

Sydney's eyes opened, watching you above her as you rolled your hips with your head tipped back. The way your eyes shut and your mouth fell open as you whimpered. In honesty, she thought you looked a bit like a debauched slut. Just how she wanted you.

There was pride sitting on her chest, sitting just behind you actually. That pride knew that there were a handful of people back at that bar right now that wanted you exactly like this, and Syd was the one that had you. That pride also knew that there was no way they could have you moaning the way you were now.

None of those men would know exactly what you wanted like she could. Not that you were a prize, an object, or anything of the sort.

But Sydney had one first fucking place.

Your hand drifted just a little bit lower, back under her open jeans and beneath the band of her underwear. The curls of her pubic area ran under your fingers until you dipped them into her slit.

"Sydney, you're fucking soaking."

She gave you a moan in response, the feeling reverberating through your body and her hips raised up under your touch. You dipped a finger towards her entrance, collecting slick until you brought it back to circle her clit.

Moving your hand behind you, she lifted her hips to help you get better reach. Your fingers dipped down, tips gently breaching her entrance and making her release another groan into your core.

Your pussy clenched around her tongue, spasms moving up your body as you kept up your movements. Both of Sydney's arms came to hook over your thighs, holding you tight as you fucked her face.

Cries of her name kept rolling off your tongue, the more that she sucked her lips around your clit. You'd no doubt that your neighbours might be impressed by Sydney's skill but all the more wishing she'd go home right now.

You slipped both your middle fingers inside her core, hooking them up against her and rubbing the heel of your hand against her clit. Her hips bucked up again, chasing the feeling as your fingers moved quickly inside of her.

Feeling the white hot tension building to its breaking point inside of you, your teeth clenched around your lower lip as you looked down at her. Her eyes caught on with yours as you rolled your hand against her clit again.

The way her eyes rolled back and the blissed out expression crossed her face was enough for you. Your whole body tensed up as you felt the coil snap, fighting to keep your hand moving in her trousers as your orgasm plummeted through you.

Sydney held onto you, gently pressing kisses to your pussy as she felt your muscles tensing beneath her hands. Her own eyes screwed up as you crooked your fingers up, pressing against the soft, spongey area behind her pubic bone and feeling her tense around your hand.

You shifted your hips back so you could hear the way she whimpered, the sound going down in history for you as it twisted into a moan of your name. Her fingertips dug into your thighs as you brought her to her orgasm.

Her hips stuttered, quietly calling out for you as you let her ride it out on your hand. Gently, you swung your leg off of her and slowly ran your fingers against her slit, feeling the aftershocks slowly dissipating through her.

Shifting to lay beside her on the bed, you brought your fingers up to her mouth, watching her wrap her lips around them and taste herself as you kissed at the wetness you'd left on her chin.

Sydney snuck her left arm beneath you, her right wrapping round your back to pull you in closer as she pressed her lips back against yours. Her tongue pushed it's way through and made total ground as her thigh slotted between your legs.

Rolling it against your centre once, she smiled as you moaned into her mouth. Sydney nodded, humming in delight as she felt your hands working under the band of her bra.

"That's a good girl," She cooed, well and truly finding the rest of her confidence. "Lay back and let me worship you."

[baisemains]

summer haze

sydney adamu x gn!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: weed, lots of kissing, suggestive themes, alluding to sex once, nothing crazy though

description: you and sydney wind down together after a long summer day.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

It’s a warm summer night, and you and Sydney are hanging out on the fire escape of your apartment, smoking a joint.

She got home from the restaurant a little while ago and after taking a quick shower, she asked if you wanted to join her, and of course you agreed.

So here you were, Syd’s back pressed against your front, passing the weed back and forth while the speaker in your room was crooning out your smooth r&b playlist.

As she’s taking a drag, you take the opportunity to nuzzle your face into her neck, taking a deep breath in.

Syd’s scent was your favorite thing in the world, if you could bottle it up and carry it with you everywhere, you would.

She hears you loudly breathing her in and starts laughing, pushing you away slightly.

“You’re so freaky, you know that?”

“Mm, I like to think of it as enjoying the finer things in life,” you say, pulling her closer again, burying your face into the curve of her shoulder and neck, taking another deep breath.

She squirms in your arms as you press soft kisses against her skin, but relaxes back into you, reaching up to cup the back of your head, a smile dancing across her lips.

After a few more pecks to her shoulder, she turns around in your arms, gazing at you with a look that rivaled the sun.

But she was so much brighter.

“Come here.”

You obey her command and lean into her before feeling a hand on your chest, her lips only a breath away from yours.

Starting to whine in frustration, Syd bumps your nose with hers, chuckling at how easy it was to rile you up.

She takes a long drag and finally closes the gap between you two, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel the smoke enter your mouth and fill your lungs.

Her free hand moves up to cup your cheek, her touch like sparks dancing across your skin. The mix of smoke and Syd’s intoxicating scent has you feeling light-headed, and you lean further into her.

Your arm tightens around her waist, pulling her flush against you, and Syd moans into your mouth, the sound like music to your ears. Your hand starts to wander, tracing patterns across her back and hips, and you feel her shiver against you.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the feel of each other and not feeling the need to take it any further.

You’ve had sex while high on many occasions, but this wasn’t one of those times. You just wanted this moment to stretch for as long as possible.

Syd’s fingers brush against your jaw, her touch feather-light and yet enough to make your head spin. She breaks the kiss, her breath ghosting over your skin as she chuckles quietly.

“You’re so needy, you know that?” she teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You grumble and retaliate by playfully biting her earlobe, and she yelps in surprise. “You love it, though,” you say, nipping at her throat.

She actually purrs at your words, nodding as you continue your gentle assault on her skin.

“Mmm, I really, really do.”

Before you know it, Syd is sliding onto your lap, lips on yours, gently moaning into your mouth.

You ever so slowly glide your tongue along her lower lip, feeling her smile as her tongue meets yours in a romantic dance, a satisfied sigh slipping out as they do.

You lose yourself in the sweet and slow rhythm of the kiss, your hands roaming across her body in a gentle, exploratory manner, leaving a trail of heat everywhere they touch.

Syd's touch is just as tender, her fingers tracing the dips and curves of your back, her nails scraping your skin lightly.

She lets out another soft sigh, her mouth moving away from yours to press heated kisses to your jaw, then your neck, and you tilt your head back, groaning lowly.

Feeling her teeth scrape that sensitive spot under your ear, you bite your lip as she starts suckling the skin there, the sensation being heightened by the weed.

Eventually she makes her way back up to your face, pecking your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and finally, your bottom lip.

Feeling her back away, your eyes slowly open and meet her glazed ones, yours undoubtedly matching.

Syd smirks at the sight of your slightly dazed expression, and she gently cups your face again, her thumbs tracing lazy circles on your cheekbones.

Your eyes flutter shut of their own accord as you lean into her touch, a small, content smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“You’re so damn cute,” she murmurs, her voice low and raspy.

You crack open an eye and look up at her. “You’re one to talk,” you say, reaching up to tuck a stray braid behind her ear.

She laughs at that, leaning back to get off of you and stand up.

You protest with a whine, not wanting the moment to end so soon, but Syd just giggles and reaches down to tug you up.

“Let’s go lay down inside, I wanna watch a movie,” she says, linking her fingers through yours and leading you back inside the apartment.

Following her with no hesitation, you reach the living room and Syd sits down on the couch to pick a movie as you head into the kitchen to whip up some snacks.

She lands on a favorite of both of yours, one you’ve watched together many times and never get tired of.

You settle next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder when she interlocks your fingers.

Watching as she brings your joined hands to her mouth and kisses each of your knuckles one by one, she eventually looks up at you and your breath hitches.

Her eyes convey every bit of emotion that she’s feeling, and a warmth blossoms in your chest, eventually spreading throughout your whole body.

“I love you.”

You smile at her words and lean in to capture her lips, savoring her words and taste together.

How did you get so lucky?

“I love you too, baby.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[springtyme]

For your autumn challenge (I have a lot of ideas 🥲)

- Sydney getting cold in the fall bc the temperatures drop unusually quickly, so reader gives Sydney her sweater & Sydney gets flustered about it

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

Sydney Adamu x reader || Main masterlist || Sydney playlist

summary: On a cold October day in Chicago, you share a little of your warmth.

word count: 900

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕) 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

The last whisper of summer has slipped through the cracks like a fast fading memory, leaving behind a chill in the air that feels like it has arrived much too early. As a brisk wind sweeps through the streets of Chicago, Sydney pulls her jacket tighter around her shoulders and quickens her pace toward the little café on the corner.

When she enters, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked pastries wraps around her like a comforting embrace, and she spots you already seated at a cozy table near the window. You look up to greet her, and the chill in her bones melts away at the sight of your smile.

“Hey, you!” you call out, waving her over. Your eyes sparkle with warmth, and as she approaches, she can’t help but grin back at you, though she is still shivering slightly from the sudden drop in temperature.

“Hi,” she says, sliding into the chair across from you. As she settles in, she rubs her arms to stave off the cold.

“This is for you,” you say, reaching for the hot cocoa you have ordered for her. “It just felt so fitting for the weather. ” You slide it over, and Syd feels how her lips curl into a smile.

“Thank you,” she says, taking a sip and sighing contentedly. “This is just what I need, I’m freezing, I really didn’t expect it to be so chilly today.” She wraps her hands around the mug, smiling like the beverage has magically warmed her entire body, but it is clear that the cold air has seeped into her bones.

“Here,” you say instinctively, shrugging off your oversized sweater that you are wearing over your hoodie. It is a soft, knit piece, the type of sweater that feels like a warm hug when you wear it, and you drape it across the table toward her. “Put this on.”

Sydney’s eyes widen in surprise, her ears and cheeks tickling with warmth that has less to do with the cocoa and more to do with your gesture. “ Are you sure..? Won’t you be cold.”

“I’m fine. You look like you could use it more than I do,” you insist, a playful smile dancing on your lips. Your eyes are sparkling as you give her a reassuring nod.

“Seriously?” she asks, hesitating as she glances at the cozy garment, then back at your encouraging smile.

“Seriously. I think I’ll look good on you too,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows as you prompt her to take it.

With a nervous giggle, she picks up the sweater and pulls it over her head, she can’t help but smile even wider as she folds her hands over the cuffs, letting the warmth envelop her. “God, this is so comfy! I’m stealing it,” she jokes.

You laugh. “Maybe you should. It looks better on you than on me,” you say, your demeanor shifting into something softer. 

Sydney feels her heart race slightly at that, her cheeks heating up again—not just from the snugness of your sweater. She can’t find the words, instead just sipping her cocoa again and looking down, a shy smile painting her lips.

“Well, I definitely don’t think that is true…” she begins, her tone suddenly quiet. “But it’s really sweet of you to give me this.”

“I wouldn’t do it for just anyone,” you reply, moving your hand slightly closer to hers on the table. “Only people I really care about.”

Her heart flutters, and she meets your gaze, her vulnerability mirrored in your eyes. “I uh… I care about you too,” she whispers, feeling giddy and flustered all at once.

A short moment of comfortable silence  falls between you, your eyes locked. It is a moment that feels both magical and nerve wracking. You smile at her, not your usual wide confident one, this one is more gentle and slightly bashful, almost shy, but it only takes a few seconds for you to find your family grin. 

The silence breaks and the conversation shifts to laughter and shared stories, the chill of the world outside forgotten in the cozy bubble that forms around you two. The way you  so easily offered your sweater, bone-deep warmth radiating through the wool that now envelops her, it feels deeper than just a simple gesture.

The café buzzes with life around you, but for Syd, it feels as if time stands still. The warmth of your sweater and your presence fills the space between you, and she feels something more than just the heat of your kind act; it is the warmth of budding affection and an exciting possibility—a sweet prelude to what is slowly blossoming between the two of you.

As the afternoon light begins to dim, painting the café in golden hues, Sydney catches glimpses of the world beyond the window, people bustling past, wrapped in their own narratives and lives. Yet, her attention is anchored solely on you. The way you laugh, how your eyes gleam in the warm light of the café as you talk, the way that you look at her… all of it envelops her like the sweater she now wears, each moment knit together with invisible threads of connection. And in this moment she can not help but wonder if your connection can be woven into something even more beautiful, that maybe you really have feelings like she has.

[neonovember]

Okay hear me out, how would carmen react to someone he's dating being a "picky eater" that has a VERY limited diet due to sensory issues👀

This is totally not self-indulgent /s

Eeeee

carmen berzatto x reader

enjoy some bear fam ribbing and carmen carmen carmen

honestly I think he’d be interested if anything! His mind is constantly on overdrive thinking of recipes and foods and the combinations of flavours, and how to change this and tweak that. He could run on fumes, just a jar of tums and his notebook and spend the night brainstorming dishes. We’ve all seen it, it might be a way for him to distract from the hellish that is his social life outside the Bear, by bringing it home too. So when he meets his girl, who’s got a palate that is entirely different to anything he’s seen before he takes it as almost a challenge to push himself to produce something amazing, creative and yours.

You’re his girl, he has this carnal need to take care of you, and can you imagine if you were nervous or worried about what he might think??? No he’d run his thumb along your thigh, while you're on either side of him wrapped in the covers that were warm from the morning sun and just raise his eyebrows and snicker in that way he does. And it hit him that your exes were dipshits and never listened to you and he’d gather you in his arms and murmur how you could watch him cook for you every day if you wanted to.

And he held true to that, he’d sit you down on the counter after hours in the Bear later that night. You’d sneak in, when you’re craving for something that the places around you can’t offer and Carmen is just fucking itching to serve you food and show off his fucking Michelin talent.

It would be a ritual, you watching and him making. He’d serve it to you all pretty and clean, leaving his serving to be eaten from the pan. And he watches every expression on your face, every quirk and flick of your eyebrow and he’d know, god he’d know what you were thinking in that moment. If you liked it or not, if it triggered one of your senses into overdrive and had you trying to hide the way your teeth scraping against a certain component left you shivering in disgust.

He’d know and he’d rush to give you water and make you spit it out despite your protests. And you shake your head in anger at the things you can’t control and Carmen will sit with you on the floor of the Bear and he’d smile in that way he does, as he’d ask about every part and force it out of you until he’d be changing the meal entirely. 

Showing you the things you can control which was making your boyfriend who cooked for a living, cook.

He’d be protective over you I feel like, after you tell him bad experiences that had ruined your relationship with food. Making sure no one gave you shit about it, always on guard, eyes in slits and voice gravelly when waiters double check your order or look anywhere but their fucking notepad.

The team is a whole other situation… I imagine it to be a whole team involved in a sit down investigation, an entire intervention by them because they are just so confused and scared (which is actually hilarious) that you were barred from eating certain foods or something.

-- -

“Okay, okay, how about pasta alla vodka” Tina muses, a grin pulling at her jaw as she leans back against the cheap plastic chairs that were reserved for the house.

“Nop, don’t like those bits of tomato they leave in the sauce” You shrug, chewing on your straw as you watch the way the rest of the team rears back in dismay.

Tina’s face drops, stubbornly pulling out a dollar bill and slapping it into Richie's grinning face.

“I thought I had it dammit” Tina groans, muttering about losing to a fake Italian divorcee who skimped her out of a chocolate bar.

You're all scattered in the back of the Bear, popcorn and peanuts are littered amongst half emptied bottles of beers on the large metal table that spans across the room. The Bear had been closed today, some sort of team building attempt at brainstorming new ideas for the menu and the Bear itself. 

Much to the annoyance of the rest of the crew, who had to make the commute in a freezing Chicago winter on a day that was supposed to be a break, somewhere along the fights that erupted at every suggestion and the stubbornness that remained in each of the team it did feel a little like family bonding.

At least it felt like it now, as they all collectively came together to study you.

That's where you found yourself, being pulled into the never calm-always-catastrophic environment of the Bear thanks to Carmen. You had protested at first, thinking you would be out of place in the sea of decorated chefs but as your phone dinged with messages from Syd and Richie, the latter earring on a very thinly veiled threat to ‘be there or i'll come and get you’ you found yourself throwing on a too thin jacket and knocking against on the Bear’s ‘closed’ sign after your shift.

You were greeted with the warmth of the Bear, breathing it in deeply before you realised that the smoky heat of the restaurant was as much fueled by the temperamental crew screaming out obscenities in the back as much as the radiator Fak had somehow fixed for the 15th time.

You didn't quite understand how you got here, you in the middle, and the team surrounding you firing out questions about your less than conventional palate. 

Carmen's disgruntled protest against the team channeling some sort of crud rip off of True Detective did little as the team went around listing dishes from escargot to cheese on bread to get your opinion. 

It was downright ironic, you know this. You are someone who couldn't stand the texture and smell of certain foods to the point of having them struck from your diet with a man whose entire life was surrounded by, and birthed from the complexities of texture and taste.

“It’s one of the stables of Italy!’ Richie barks, stuffing the dollar bill into his pocket hile shaking his head. 

The beer he had opened had gone cold in his hand since the beginning of the conversation. He couldn't stop his mouth from remaining hung open after every shake of your head and shrug of your shoulders towards the meals they loved.

You wondered if chefs have the same value systems as other..tightly knit organisations. One where disrespect leads to your swift removal…off the face of the earth. You don’t let yourself forget that they are skilled in the goddamn wielding of knives no matter their friendly chiding, you might be one shake of your head away from being prepared in all the ways you hate your food to be.

Carmen looked at you, his eyes straining across your body to check if you felt uncomfortable. He knew your tells almost as well as you know, and he'd be quick to shut it down and take you back home if need be. But as your eyes meet his, and the squint of a smile reaches them he shakes his head, mouths a “goddamn idiots”, and rolls his eyes at his families curiosity.

“Listen, I get that, I don't like bits of bone in my meat. But surely, for a dish that you know I know you know tastes like the fucking gates of heaven, you can make an exception” Syd blinks, her face filled with expectation, like she thought it was obvious.

You’re giggling at Sydney words, “Is this reassurance for me or for you”

“Me. It’s for me” Syd gulps, blinking as she registers the truth

“I just can’t eat food, no matter how good you guys tell me it is, that fucks up my sensory issues-”

“Alright, yeah, sensory issues, darling I bet if i could bring you to ONE dinner, one of our dinners at Carmen's Ma's we could easily persuade you-”

“Jesus fucking Christ-”

“No, no look Carmen. This is your woman ain't she? How can you let her walk around without letting her taste the delicate crossroads that produce Chicago- Italian cuisine? I mean you're seriously failing-”

“Fuck you”

“Goddamn fake”

The irony of it all was, you and Carmen had both met at a farmers market. Surrounded by food you wouldn't eat, at a place you didn't frequent, all for one particular food you did eat. And somehow, despite passing by 95% of vendors without even a swipe of your eye against their delicate colors and shapes, Carmen had bumped into you.

And he had apologies and you had crouched down to collect the runaway potatoes and fruits that tried to escape through his pouch, and your fingers had collided when you looked up to see the man who had interrupted your 15 minute venture.

Through the blurted out line of apologies, Carmen had stopped and looked at you and tried to reopen his hanging mouth. And you sat there half amused and half worried he was having a stroke.

“I know this is forward and you can tell me to go to hell, but could I take you out sometime?”

You had caught the last of the disobedient root vegetables when you raised your eyebrows in surprise, and let yourself be shocked again as you said yes.

Carmen had nodded and smiled when you told him you weren't exactly experimental with your diet, wanting to get it out of the way when you found out he was a chef and your sensory issues had been a problem for people who didn't make food for a living.

You expected the same ritual, the same dance of having to explain your diet to people and wait for them to actually understand that your pickiness wasn't just the usual ‘dislike’, but a very real thing that impacted how you eat everyday. You had no choice in it, that's what you told them every time and they had rolled their eyes and thrown your words in your face as they compared you to a petulant child that didn't want to eat their vegetables. You sighed and they did too, as they watched you flip every menu to the page for children and you cringed as the waiter looked around for your child and realised it was you.

Carmen was different though, of course he was. He didn't let his surprise go hidden, as he asked about every food you disliked and everyone you did. Noone before asked, they simply resolved to assume your diet was constricted in the small section of the kids meal. But Carmen asked, he did all night when you had brought it up after he asked to cook for you. Sitting on your couch, talking about you, and your diet, and your sensory issues for hours until he knew everything about them.

Until he simply nodded, and wrote something in his notebook and asked if you were still free on Thursday.

Of course the family was teasing, and of course they’d all tweak any dishes you were craving so that they weren't overloading your senses in any way. You’ve got a reserved seat at the Bear, and all your favourite dishes on standby if you ever wanted to come in to find something that didn't set you off and leave you anxious and sensitive.

It gets to an alarming rate of you coming in nearly every other day, in which Richie, Carm Syd and every other person in the Bear constructed some under the table deals with dea by restaurants to accommodate your sensitivities. They all like to feign ignorance when you walk in the next day all smiles, showing off your little takeaway box from the Portuguese spot you had so desperately to try before the stark textures and flavours of the menu you perused dashed the thought away.

Carmen hated seeing that excitement turn into defeated acknowledgement of the barriers you had around food. But also, in the same breath, Carmen knows how certain textures and tastes can trigger you into getting over-stimulated, leading to becoming frazzled and irritated. Which is exactly why he would never let you push yourself too far, supporting you if you ever wanted to try it out but immediately taking the dish away from you when he realised your heart was racing too quick and you were getting stiff..

“Baby, easy. Need you to go slow, yeah?”

“Alright, that’s enough. You did good sweetheart, I’m proud of you. Lemme make you something for tonight though yeah? Something you like?”

The truth was there were going to be some days where both Carmen's creativity, and your sensory issues outdo him. You were okay with that though, you were still catching up to reality that someone loved you enough to fit their life around yours.

And then Carmen copied your meals for a week when you told him this, until the Bear was relying on his memory of taste and you finally agreed that yes, there was no fitting needed.

[bonesmithsstuff]

Carmen Berzatto - Unspoken

Warnings: End of season 2, swearing - let me know if I forgot something ;). Angst.

Masterlist |

── .✦

"Let it rip."

No one in the family would have expected it, yet no one was dreaming it. The figure that had just entered the restaurant had drawn eyes like a magnet. They hadn’t seen her in months —not since “The Beef” had closed for good and she had left without a word, without saying goodbye. Only informing them when the transfer was already complete, once her new job was accepted, ensuring they’d never be able to convince her to stay.

That night, it was Nat who welcomed her, greeting her with a huge smile and a warm embrace. Finally, she could see the girl again —her friend, the woman she’d grown up with and learned to love like the sister she never had. Richie soon followed, enveloping her in an embrace that lifted her a few inches off of the ground. Seeing them again had brought T/n one of those smiles she could only share with the family. Meanwhile the cousin watched her, happiness squeezed his heart and he thought of Carmy. Bear hadn’t been himself since T/n left, and even the blonde hadn’t noticed —though Richie had.

«Richie. I leave you alone for just a few weeks and look at you: all polished up in an elegant suit? I’ve got to say it: you’re looking damn fine.» A smug expression flashed across the man’s face as he straightened the collar of his jacket with his hands. The woman took the opportunity to glance around. The dining room seemed calm, yet she could perfectly imagine the extremely tense, focused, and worried look Carmy must have had in the kitchen. «How’s the evening going, folks?»

Nat ran a hand over her face and the other over her pregnant belly, Richie moved away after grabbing a little note passed to him by Fak. «I think it’s a fucking mess —we’re behind schedule and we almost had the bathroom flooded. I don’t know how much time we have left before we’re in complete chaos.»

The newly arrived woman took a deep breath, then looked around to study the expressions of the diners. No one seemed particularly irritated at the moment, assuming it was an evening meant for friends and family. Richie called her attention from the kitchen, and T/n excused herself from the blonde before joining him. Goodbyes were exchanged in the room above the commotion; Tina, Marcus, and the other guys quickly hugged the woman before returning to their stations.

Chaos reigned supreme —dirty pots, cold dishes, confusion at every station. As the arguments resumed and voices were raised, Sydney tried to quiet everyone down in vain.

T/n stepped in with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed over her chest. It came naturally, as if muscle memory had prompted her before she even had a chance to think. «What the fuck is going on here?»

«Carmy got stuck in the fridge and the dishes are taking too long. We’re fucking behind, damn it —we need to work faster.»

In an instant, everyone started arguing again; Carmen began pounding on the cell door, and Sydney started yelling at Marcus over some personal matter.

«Hey!» T/n called for attention, clapping her hands. «First off, let’s lower our voices —we don’t want to put on a show, do we? Everyone, get back to your stations, immediately. Richie, go to the dining room and do your job; I’ll take the damn orders, and you damn cooks, do your damn jobs, alright? I don’t want to hear anything other than ‘Okay’ and ‘Chef.’ In five minutes, we need to have most of these dishes out. Thanks, Chefs.»

Her tone was decisive and precise, calculated, as sharp as the knives on the counters, as if she’d done that a thousand times before. She left no room for arguments and, for some reason, even though some of them didn’t even know her, they all obeyed, and everyone resumed their tasks. «Chef Tina, would you kindly tell Carmy that if he doesn’t stop punching on that fucking door I’m gonna kick his ass? Thanks.»

Within ten minutes, the situation finally cooled down, and the air in the room became noticeably more relaxed and breathable. For the rest of the service, everything went smoothly, until none other than Claire Bear entered the kitchen: the tables were probably emptying out. She leaned in on to the fridge, and T/n watched her intently. Claire had been Carmy’s crush for as long as she’d known him, ever since she had her earliest memories of the man. She couldn’t even recall how many times her and Michael had teased him about it, how many quips they’d thrown his way over the years. And yet, knowing that he and Claire had grown close again hadn’t stirred any joy in her. She couldn’t be happy for him; she couldn’t stop feeling jealous.

Claire left in tears, fleeing the restaurant without looking at anyone. T/n and Richie exchanged confused looks and shrugged at one another. It wasn’t long before the man began arguing with the cousin through the fridge.

── ── ──

The door creaked open, its shrill sound shattering the silence of the kitchen. Perhaps the man fiddling with the door had finally decided to get moving just as T/n poured herself the third glass of wine. It wasn’t dawn yet, but the night was steadily drawing on. The clock read two in the morning, and the restaurant was now empty. Sydney had gone off to see her father, and Nat had gone home with the rest of the staff —exhausted after a long evening and ready to enjoy a well-deserved rest.

T/n remained, all alone. Certainly not by accident. She had returned to Chicago only for him, and she wouldn’t leave without seeing him.

When she finally saw him emerge from the walk-in freezer, her breath caught in her lungs for a moment: he looked exhausted. His blond hair was disheveled, his features etched with tension, and his blue eyes —which usually shone with determination—appeared dull, distant, lost in an undefined gaze. The chef’s body seemed to bear the weight of a day too long, of months that had dragged on for too long.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. T/n stared at him in silence, trying to gauge just how much he had let himself go. On the other hand, he could hardly believe that she was there —but slowly, a fleeting shadow of a smile crossed his face.

«Hey» A murmur, almost a whisper. His voice was low and husky.

T/n felt something tighten in her chest. He had always been skilled at hiding behind that calm tone, behind the silence, behind those hands that always moved frantically to avoid stopping to think. But she knew him all too well, and she didn’t give him time to say anything more or to think.

She took a step forward, then another. In an instant, she was right there with him, wrapping him in an embrace without hesitation. Her arms encircled his torso, and her face sank into his chest. She felt him tense for a second, as if he weren’t used to that contact anymore, but soon he relaxed. Carmy took a deep breath, his hands, tentative at first, brushed over her back before tightening their hold.

The Chef lost himself in that familiar scent and embrace. It was just as he remembered —perhaps even better. He couldn’t recall when he had started living for moments like that, when his every breath was measured between one greeting and the next, between one hug and the one that followed. How could so many days have passed without seeing her and without driving him mad?

She was his sharp needle, the one that brought him back to reality when he was lost. She had always done that. Her and Michael.

On the other hand, to T/n, his scent was equally familiar —a blend of spices, of exertion, and of something that smelled inexplicably hers.

«What are you doing, Carm?» The young woman whispered against the fabric of his T-shirt. He closed his eyes, and after a moment, slowly moved away.

He took a step back, letting her go. «I don’t know.» Leaning against one of the kitchen shelves, he ran a hand over his face. The dim light illuminated only half of his expression, leaving the other half in shadow.

He had always been like that —divided between two opposing aspects: the need to have someone by his side and the fear of truly letting them close. «You don’t have to do everything yourself.» She said firmly. «And neither does Nat. If you need help, delegate. You’re the boss, Carm, but you’re wearing yourself out like this.»

He lowered his head, running his hands through his hair as if trying to tear something out of his mind.

«I know.»

«Then do as I said.»

Silence fell.

She looked at him, arms crossed, face serious.

Carmen knew all too well that the woman wouldn’t let him off with a mere reprimand. She always wanted all the answers.

«And what about Claire?» She asked, looking up sharply as if struck by something. A confused expression flitted across his face, and the young woman sighed in exasperation. «Claire Bear, wake up. Come back to reality. She left in tears. What’s her deal? Is she your girlfriend or what?» A flash of irritation crossed her gaze, and her tone came out more annoyed than necessary. If he noticed, he didn’t say it.

«Fuck, I’ve made a mess.» He detached himself from the counter with a jerk, beginning to pace back and forth in the kitchen, restless. «It was the opening of my restaurant, and I ended up locked in that fucking freezer because I couldn’t hear the damn phone in the kitchen to call the repairman. Fuck, what else do you want me to say?» He suddenly stopped and looked at her. «And no, Claire is not my girlfriend.»

T/n took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving him. Moments of silence passed. «Carm?»

«What now?»

She took a step forward. «I missed you.»

Carmen shivered. Her tone was soft and velvety. He felt the weight of those words passing through him, melting along his skin. His gaze slowly lowered, moving up from the hem of her dress to meet her eyes. That dress —she had worn it for his night. For him. She had returned to Chicago for him. The mere thought awakened all those emotions he had desperately tried to erase, in vain. His eyes grew darker, as if those three words had stirred something too deep and too buried to be brought back to the surface.

She never looked away. «Mickey would be fucking proud of you.» She whispered, taking another step forward. «I am so fucking proud of you.»

He shook his head. «Don’t do this to me.»

«Do… what?»

Carmy’s breathing became erratic, and his heart pounded like a drum against his chest. «Don’t be here for me.» This time, the young Berzatto stepped toward the woman —a precise, calculated stride. «You can’t.» Another step. «I don’t deserve it.»

Then he took her. His hands closed around her waist with a force that made her flinch. He pushed her against the kitchen counter, their bodies clinging together, drawn like a magnet. T/n’s heart raced as she gripped the counter, trying to anchor herself to something.

Their eyes met, and in that instant, Carmy —who never had been much for words— spoke volumes with the way he held her. The way his eyes devoured her, as if he could no longer hold back. And he no longer wanted to. «You look fucking beautiful in this dress.»

His fingers tightened on her waist. «I can’t think of anything but you ever since you left.» His lips brushed her neck, and T/n closed her eyes. The warmth of his breath against her skin made her shiver. «And fuck, everyone knows —except you.»

His fingers trailed up her back, sinking into her hair. «Michael knew it.» A kiss, just below her ear, made her stifle a moan. «Now Claire knows it too.» Another kiss, slower, more intense. He tasted her as if she were the most exquisite of his dishes, leaving nothing for anyone else.

T/n pulled back imperceptibly; shaken, confused, troubled. Carmy raised his head and fixed his gaze on her, waiting. «Michael was my best friend. He would have told me.» She looked away, but the man was quick to grasp her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. He wanted her to see the passion burning within him, to feel it. «It was always Claire. We’ve always teased you about how much you liked her.»

Carmy’s fingers caressed her jaw, and a slight smile curved his lips. When their hips met while he pressed on her, T/n could feel the truth of those words against her leg. She held her breath. «And without you, Michael always teased me about how much I fucking adore you.» His tone was low and husky.

A second later, his lips found hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss but one born of desperation and fury, born within everything they’d kept inside for far too long. T/n’s hands clutched his T-shirt, gripping the fabric as if she wanted to pull him even closer, as if she wanted to imprint him onto her skin. Carmy groaned against her warm lips, the taste of wine lingering on his tongue as he overwhelmed her, his fingers gliding over her body while their breaths mingled.

Carmy could only imagine what his brother’s face would have been if he’d known, if he’d seen them at that moment.

Michael had caught him staring at her ass so many times he’d lost count. He’d witnessed Carm’s expression harden every time he heard her mention men other than the Berzattos. He hadn’t known at the time, but Mickey did. He had told him years later —about how he noticed Carmy’s eyes following her every move, about how he sought physical contact with her and only her, about how T/n always asked him about the blond one and how red her cheeks got the few times she’d seen him shirtless.

After those words from his brother —before he left to chase his dream of becoming a chef— Carmy never got her out of his head, never. How could he? She was Michael’s best friend and had always been part of his family; He probably knew her before he even learned to walk. He had memorised the foods she loved —making them the firsts he ever tried to cook. He knew by heart the tone of her voice when she was angry, the way she frowned, and he remembered perfectly the sound of her laughter.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads brushed. He was breathless. His voice was low, almost broken. «Stay. Stay in Chicago.»

T/n looked at him, helpless. No more words were needed —she was there for that. For him to ask her to stay.

Their lips met again.

And that time, they didn’t stop.

── .✦

Let me know what do you think!

[thecapricunt1616]

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Sydney Adamu x Carmen Berzatto (The Bear) 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4/6 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 31,474 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Typical TB themes, Talks of accidental OD's, Sad!Carmy, Angst, Smut, Unprotected sex, Drinking, Smoking, (slightly) public sex, mentions of hospitals 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Carmen accidentally almost checks out of life permanently due to a migraine fucking up his vision, and Natalie flips & sends him off to a trauma rehabilitation center, Syd is realizing she finds it extremely hard to stay away from him.

❀𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙊𝙣𝙚❀ ❀❀𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙬𝙤❀❀ ❀❀❀𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚❀❀❀ ❀❀❀❀𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙧❀❀❀❀ ❀❀❀❀❀𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙁𝙞𝙫𝙚❀❀❀❀❀  ⇆ 𝙒𝙄𝙋

[apinchofm]

I wrote my first Sydcarmy drabble. Please clap.

[kyloknightren]

carmy and syd just sitting outside the back of the restaurant benches on the last days before they part ways (show ending)

they are friendly and smiling sharing stories

i will always love you sydney tells him with a small smile

me too syd carmy with the same sad smile

but they don't say goodbye (immortality by celine dion coded)

i’m ruining my brain even more by imagining sydney and carmy having a moment at one of the restaurant tables during break and a shot of him looking at that spot remembering and smiling.

(song inspiration the alcott by the national)

[edebiriii]

NEW FIC!

[heavenbarnes]

I’m no good on my own

Sydney Adamu x female reader

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

Part one: Already better for knowing you

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

Yeah, completely fucked.

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

But that was before the greatest challenge of her career.

You.

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

This was fucking torture.

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

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

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

To Sydney, that was nearly lethal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, tell me what you think.”

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

And it had been.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The mortifying ordeal of being known.

“You-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking hell, Syd-“

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

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

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

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

Sydney was getting herself off on the taste of you.

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

You’d never had anything like this before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just like that.”

“There you go, sweet girl.”

“You’re doing so good for me.”

And that was enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[baisemains]

baisemains' sydney adamu masterlist ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

for the kitchen's princess & loml 👩🏾‍🍳 (under construction atm, let me know if a link is broken)

a = angst / f = fluff / s = suggestive / e = explicit

[ FICS ]

Is it casual now?

chapter 1

you and syd have been hooking up for a while now, someone's bound to catch feelings eventually [a, f, s] [1.6k]

chapter 2: I know what you tell your friends

your night out with syd takes a turn for the worse [a] [4.5k]

chapter 3: I've heard so many rumors

you both start to move on, but something keeps pulling you back together [f, a] [3.7k]

chapter 4: dream of us in a year

maybe time doesn't heal all wounds (but you're willing to try) [f, e] [5.3k]

summer haze

you and sydney wind down together after a long summer day [f, s] [1k]

[ BLURBS ]

coming soon

[ HEADCANONS ]

tagged here

[springtyme]

𝟏𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♡

Wow! This is absolutely amazing! When I made this blog seven months ago, I never anticipated receiving such a large number of followers here. I am incredibly grateful to each and every one of you. I want to express my deepest gratitude for all the support and love you have shown towards my writing ♡

✨ drabble request for any of the characters on my character list, with 1-3 prompts from this promp list (you’re also welcome to make your own prompt if you feel like it) just remember to not only add the number but also the category, since the same numbers are used multiple times in different categories (example: ‘2 fluff prompt’ or  ‘2 winter prompt’) <3

🪩 i’ll share a paragraph from one of my wips and tell a little about it

🥂 give me a character and i'll make a little playlist for them, including a little scenario to go with it (you can also give the scenario if you prefer)

💍 ask me anything/tell me anything, or we can play a game! (would you rather, FMK, etc.)

💫 headcanon request for any of the characters on my character list

my asks are also always open if you just want can just talk or come say hi ♡

i'll keep this event open for at least a couple of weeks, and you're welcome to send multiple things in, just as long as they are send in as separate asks ♡

just please remember my guidelines ♡

[lskisms]

pairing sydney adamu / fem!reader genre romance warnings gfs go to a kpop show together for funsies (thank u lolla for letting txt headline this weekend and putting it in my head that syd would be a kpop girlie through and through)

note not my typical stuff, but my long distance gf is gonna be with me for the next two weeks so i'm prepping a few little pieces just in case i can't find the time to write as much as i'd like to

you don't think you've ever seen sydney more excited about anything (besides maybe any time a new recipe of hers works out right). it's a little earlier than you're used to, but she said she wanted to beat the crowd as much as possible and you agree because lollapalooza always gets campers and with one of your shared favorite kpop groups headlining this year, you know it's going to be even worse.

decked out in your little concert outfits, loose knit tops and fake vines of ivy laced through the gaps, you look proper adorable. syd finishes securing the acrylic photocard holder (which has her favorite hueningkai photocard in it) on her clear backpack and she looks over at you, smiling. she reaches out her hand towards you and you take it, intertwining your fingers.

hours later, you've managed to make it to barricade at the bud light stage. the five boys are right in front of you and syd looks absolutely mesmerized. she's belting the lyrics to every single song, her lightstick flashing a light shade of teal. when you look away, you can't help but feel entranced too; soobin is so pretty, after all, and you understand why your girlfriend has such a soft spot for him (though you're more of beomgyu girl yourself).

when their headlining set is over and you're heading out together, giggling and talking about how good the show is, you make a promise that the next time they're on tour in the states, you're definitely going.

© lskisms 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.

[juuuulez]

bearblr promptober + kinktober 2024

this october i’ll be doing half of each! on alternating days, i’ll be posting the corresponding bearblr prompt (created by the almighty @carmenberzattosgf), and then a kinktober drabble of my own choosing.

here’s the lineup, fics will be updated and linked next month! kinktober is (obviously) smut, and prompts marked with 🍂 indicate non-smut/fluff.

🍂 bearblr #1: scary movie -> sydney adamu

💌 completed

kinktober #2: nipple play -> carmen berzatto

💌 completed

🍂 bearblr #3: apple picking -> carmen berzatto

💌 completed

kinktober #4: throat fucking -> steve harrington

💌 completed

bearblr #5: vampire -> richie jerimovich

💌 completed

kinktober #6: cockwarming + under the desk -> keys mckey

💌 completed

bearblr #7: orgasm control -> carmen berzatto

💌 completed

kinktober #8: hate fuck + semi-public sex -> steve harrington

💌 completed

kinktober #9: body worship + on film -> veronica fisher

💌 completed

🍂 bearblr #10: rain soaked -> richie jerimovich

💌 completed

kinktober #11: spanking -> lip gallagher

💌 completed

kinktober #12: subspace -> steve harrington

💌 completed

🍂 bearblr #13: hot cocoa + baking -> carmen berzatto

💌 completed

bearblr #14: somnophilia -> richie jerimovich

💌 incomplete

kinktober #15: edging -> keys mckey

💌 incomplete

🍂 bearblr #16: bonfire -> richie jerimovich

💌 incomplete

bearblr #17: dumbification -> richie jerimovich

💌 incomplete

🍂 bearblr #18: candlelight -> michael berzatto

💌 incomplete

kinktober #19: possessed -> steve harrington

💌 incomplete

🍂 bearblr #20: slow morning -> carmen berzatto

💌 incomplete

kinktober #21: orgasm denial -> steve harrington

💌 incomplete

kinktober #22: squirting + competitive -> lip + carmy

💌 incomplete

bearblr #23: dacryphillia -> carmen berzatto

💌 incomplete

🍂 bearblr #24: haunted house -> richie jerimovich

💌 incomplete

bearblr #25: size kink -> carmen berzatto

💌 incomplete

kinktober #26: breeding + overstim -> lip gallagher

💌 incomplete

kinktober #27: wet dream -> carmen berzatto (solo)

💌 incomplete

🍂 bearblr #28: sick day -> michael berzatto

💌 incomplete

kinktober #29: dry humping + high sex -> steve harrington

💌 incomplete

🍂 bearblr #30: sweaters (sharing clothes) -> carmen berzatto

💌 incomplete

🍂 bearblr #31: trick or treat -> richie jerimovich

💌 incomplete

[wtfsteveharrington]

a summary of everything i've posted in the past 24 hours because the inspo has gotten away from me & just keeps coming

the bear -

luca: something new - a morning sex fic

richie: smutty drabble where he's a menace and you're a tease

sydney: soft drabble about date night because i needed some cuteness while i write her standalone fic

stranger things -

steve harrington: smutty drabble that kinda goes with my robin x reader x steve series but fully stands alone

and there's more coming i fear 🌝 i'm working on finishing my drafts which includes carmen berzatto, sydney adamu, steve harrington, eddie munson, and patrick zweig but for now i must take a break because i'm about to lose my duolingo streak okay ilysb byyee

[thecapricunt1616]

California Reaper (SydxCarmy one-shot)

♡ Chapter Inspo: Hot Peppers (Such as the California Reaper) are believed to protect the wearer from envy and harmful intent, prevent gossip, and attract good fortune. (California reapers are the hybrid between Carolina Reaper & Peach peppers, Peaches symbolize longevity & health) ♡ Summary: Carmy & Syd have a heated argument after work that turns into something more... ♡ W/C: 1,736 ♡ Posted Date: 06/21/2024 ♡ A/N: Here is my 'prediction' for S3 hahah! My hopeful one, IK it probs wont happen but a girl could totally dream, right?! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Typical TB themes, Smut, Unprotected sex, Not edited!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

Heated. Potent. Extreme. 

This conversation currently being had could easily be described as any of those synonyms. It wasn’t surprising, though. To either of them, really. This unbearable tension had been building all day between them. 

Really, it has been since Carmy got out of the freezer last night. But, of course when he did get out they acted like it was some - hiccup? Like it didn’t affect anything. Like, it was just another day at the office. Syd had rushed up to him, clutching his numb fingers and bringing them to her warm, plump lips - like that isn’t all he ever fucking wanted. 

That honestly pissed him off, that it took him nearly freezing to death for her to give the affection he had begged for by way of sad puppy eyes for months. Her warm breath puffing into his tingling fingers was nothing short of heavenly. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. “Fuck, Carmy” she mumbled in his skin, grateful he was okay. 

He wanted to shove her away, he wanted to scream at her like she was at him right now and ask her what the fuck was wrong with her. Ask her why she never touched him, held him like that until now. But he didn’t.

Instead, he brushed her off, snapped at her to ‘get back to fucking closing duties, what am I- a baby?’ as he stomped off to the office and slammed the door, ignoring Richie and Natalie pleading to let them in so they could check on him. He was in there for well over an hour, he nearly shouted at Natalie to shut the fuck up as he shook his firey hands rapidly. Throbbing. Itchy. Painful. 

That is all he could describe his skin as feeling. His face was flushed with embarrassment, he couldn’t stop shaking. He had never felt a panic attack like this before, he felt like his chest was caving in. He actually had to sit (more like collapse) into his office chair, and rest with his head in his hands for he wasn’t sure how long, all he knew was everyone had went home when he came out and he was grateful for that. 

“I should have taken my last check back at that shithole of a sandwich shop and fucking walked. I ask myself almost every day why I didn’t!” She shouted. Her throat was becoming dry, she never yelled like this. She actually felt like she had to cough but was doing everything in her power not to, she wasn’t sure how his throat sustained the constant yelling all day. 

If Carmen wasn’t so hyped up from lack of sleep and overloading on nicotine with next to no food, he probably would realize that Syd had never shouted like this. So loud that her voice cracked, that her eyes were wide with rage. “Then fucking do it. Leave- walk.” He hasn’t even taken into account they were now so close she could smell said cigarettes on his breath. 

“Oh I would- but you said you couldn’t handle it without me, proved that right yesterday when you couldn’t have even bothered to get the fucking walk in door fixed a day before hard open.” She seethed, going to shove him but he grabbed her wrists, stopping her where she stood. 

She felt the blood drain from her face, she felt hot but goosebumps covered her skin. “Y’know what maybe that’s because-“ 

“Because what, Carmen.” She cuts him off. Her stare was boring into his in the way that made him feel small, he hated feeling small. He knew she was right, that she had to handle things all on her own and she didn’t drown. That he held the awards, he held the titles, but she? She holds him together.

Before either of them could think to say anything else, his mouth was on hers. It was messy, it was rough- it was…nearly bruising. It was fucking everything she’d dreamed of. She didn’t pull away, she didn’t slap him, she didn’t squirm or gag like Carmy thought she may, she leaned into it. Her grip on his shirt got tighter, her nails pinched his skin through the fabric as she rough- no more like violently kissed him back. 

Thats what this kiss was, it wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t gentle nor loving - this kiss was 2 late twenty somethings releasing a pressure valve they hadn’t in so long, that had to release, or the both of them would explode into meaty chunks that had to be mopped off the walls of The Bear. 

His hands scaled down her ribs, tugging at her chefs coat and pulling her to his hips as he shuffled towards the office. Neither of them dared to break the kiss, dared to question what they were doing. They both needed this. When his back hit the door though, she ricocheted off his body hard enough to feel his third leg essentially hardening down the right side of his jeans, causing her to pull away. 

“We tell no one. This happens one fucking time. Do you understand me? Once. Never again.” She was dead serious, and He was tongue tied, he couldn’t even find a yes or no, his eyes were wide and knees felt weak like a baby fucking deer. 

The only thing he could manage was a hard gulp and a quick nod of yes and she backed up, twisting the knob to the office and he quickly righted himself as he almost tumbled backwards onto the floor, palming the wall and catching his breath quickly “fuckin shit” he muttered to himself as he almost fell ass first, causing Syd to laugh as she swung the door shut behind her. 

“You’re graceful have I ever told you?” She teased, shrugging off her chefs coat to reveal her tight black tshirt underneath that made Carmys mouth water. 

“You’re an ass sometimes” he mumbled, tugging off the tie of his apron and sliding it over his head “like y’r a fuckin student still, wearin’ your whites every day.” He hooked his arm around the back of her neck, pulling her lips back to his and kissing them hungrily. He wasn’t being shy, nor meek per his usual MO with her when they were alone. He was taking what he wanted.  

She hummed into his mouth, gently nipping at his chapped lips. She kind of loved how she could taste blood, she sucked and licked at his lust bitten lips like they were the fountain of youth, lapping up his blood like it was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. He gently urged her onto the desk after clearing it of the at this moment useless paperwork that covered it with a broad swipe of his arm. 

She comfortably sat back, tugging him to lean into her frame and carefully weaving her nimble fingers through his knitted curls from the long day in the hot, sticky kitchen. She felt sweat on the tips of her fingers, but she didn’t give a shit. She wanted more, she would lick it if she could. “Too slow” she said between kisses, tugging open the button of her chefs pants and tugging down the zipper with a loud ‘zrrrp’ 

“Y’fuckin needy” he breathed, tugging down his chefs pants just enough for his cock to spring free, kissing his naval as it beads out pre while he roughly tugs off her pants and panties in one bruising pull of the fabrics. He shuffled her hips to the end of the desk easily, looking into her eyes carefully. “Tell me you want this” he said gently, hand braced on the wall behind him. 

“I want you” she said, voice laced with a careful kind of trust, a trust they only had with eachother. 

“You fuckin piss me off, know that?” He grabs her face with a firm gentleness that brought a moan to the base of her throat, clenching around him as he sheathed himself inside of her, thrusting to the hilt. She smiled, biting her plump lower lip to hold back a cry of pleasure. 

“I fucking hate working with you most the time” she pulled him into a sloppy kiss and he moans as he feels her squeezing around him in a way he could only describe as heavenly. He grunted, pushing himself harder and she gasped, her head falling back. 

He sucked dark spots into her bronzed flesh, pants puffing through his nose as he thrusted at a near punishing pace. “So fuckin pretty.” He muttered into her skin, biting down until there were teeth shaped marks bruised into the flesh causing her to whine and squirm in a way he felt was what angels sounded like. 

“Jesus fucking Christ” she rasps, her nails digging into his pale flesh, leaving bruising purple marks as she drags them down with no relent. He grunted, the pain urging him to move harder. His other hand moves to her throat and she looked up at him with those big brown eyes. 

“This is ok yea? I wouldn’t ever hurt you” he said the last part carefully, honestly. She swallowed thickly which he felt under his palm, before nodding gently and gasping a bit as she felt his fingers tighten around her throat. His thrusts slowed, becoming more careful and gentle as he gauged her reaction to the new pressure. 

Her mouth dropped clenching around him wildly as her orgasm overtook her and her wide brown eyes fluttered shut, head falling back with a thump to the wall and squeaks of pleasure leaving her throat. “Good. Good girl” Carmy praised as he rubbed her clit with his other hand causing her hips to jerk up and nails to dig into his shoulder. 

He hissed in pain, pushing in to her g-spot harder as he chased his own high. She scratched and slapped at his back at the overstimulation as he sucked at her collarbones, his back would likely be black and blue the following day - he loved the thought. When he finally came, it was with a grunt like whine she had never heard before, but she wanted to hear again and again forever. 

“Still just one time?” His voice was shaking, panting even. 

It was her that was now breathless and wordless, and could only find a quick nod of her head. 

Fin