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Kiss the Cook ⢠M.B
(Gif not mine)
Request: could you do a mikey berzatto x reader blurb?? maybe some with the pair cooking together with some flirty banter/playful teasing sort of vibe:)) â anon
Summary: Mikey proves to be a distraction in the kitchen
Warnings: no pronouns used, food and cooking, mentions of donna, honestly its all fluff lmao
Word Count: 934
A.N: first mikey blurb and first bear writing! I hope you guys all enjoy!
â˘
It's noon when you finally wake up, Mikey's light blankets tangled in your sprawled out limbs. The house is quiet--too quiet, you realize while shifting out of the bed. Donna must be out smoking or somewhere with Lee. With Mikey not opening The Beef today, that could only mean he was downstairs waiting for you to wake up.
Knickknacks tremble precariously and wood creaks under your feet as you climb down the stairs.
You creep through the house until you get to the kitchen where Mikey is staring at the open refrigerator, staring into its white light.
âLookinâ for something honey?â You ask, leaning against the threshold, arms crossed at your chest. You watch him jump slightly with a smile on your face.
He looks a bit sheepish, cheeks pink while one hand runs through his hair.
âI was, uh, lookinâ for something to make. For you.â He smiles and your eyes run over his relaxed figure.
âWhy donât we make somethinâ together, chef?â You wink, ambling over to him, planting a kiss on his cheek.
âAlright baby,â He kisses you quickly before he begins to pull things out of the fridge. âcome help the masterâŚâ
You and Mikey easily work together, he tells you what to do and you do it. Maybe youâre not as skilled as Mikey Fuckinâ Berzatto, but you get the job done.
The chaotic nature of Donna's kitchen is gone; there isn't a barrage of egg timers going off nor is there the overwhelming smell of burning wafting through the room. All there is the sound of knives against the cutting board mingling with whatever soft rock is playing from Mikey's phone. For once, you can actually take a deep, non-anxiety induced breath in the Berazatto family kitchen.
âCan I trust you to start boilin' the water, babe?â Mikey calls out, eyes still trained on the onions in front of him. His tongue peeks out from the corner of his mouth in concentration, dark brows slightly furrowed.
Despite this, he seems at peace. Mikey's hands aren't shaking nor is his jaw unnecessarily clenched.
You lightly scoff at your boyfriend's teasing, abandoning your own task at the counter across from him. "I'm not an idiot, Mikey."
He hums, dark brown eyes lifting up from the counter and watching your form grabbing a pot from a cabinet.
"I'm gonna blow your goddamn mind with how well I can boil water, chef," You point at him, faking your seriousness.
âAlright, alrightâŚâ Mikey shrugs, lips upturned. âProve me wrongâŚâ
Getting the water to boil was easy, though it took longer than expected. You start throwing in things Mikey tells you to, staring at the water, silently praying nothing goes wrong.
Suddenly Mikeyâs behind you, slightly swaying while looking over your shoulder. You hum in satisfaction.
His chest presses into your back, warm and calloused hands sliding across your torso in order to hug you closer to him. You close your eyes, smiling to yourself while taking it all in.
Mikey smells faintly of his cologne with hints of onion and various other herbs and spices mingling around him. He smells of home and the comfort of a homemade meal after a long day. He smells like your Mikey.
His beard tickles the crook of your neck, nose brushing over your skin as he presses delicate kisses just above the collar of your shirt. You giggle softly, the tips of your ears burning at his affection.
"You're supposed to say behind, Mikey..." You tease, placing your own hands on top of his own. Lightly your fingertips trace patterns across his skin. "No wonder The Beef runs like shit."
He ignores you, lips reaching your jawline and trailing across to the spot underneath your ear.
"Michael..." You murmur, titling your head up drawing his lips to your cheek. "Michael, I love you..."
His head dips lower, nose brushing against your own. Taking a quick peek you see that his own eyes are closed as well, the two of you living in the moment in his mother's kitchen.
Right now there's no drama with Donna or bickering with Carmy or the slew of questions that come with Nat. Just you and Mikey alone cooking; doing what the two of you love.
"I love you too, baby." Mikey whispers, placing a kiss right above the bridge of your nose. He squeezes your body once before pulling back his lips just an inch. "Your water's boilin' over."
You jolt, eyes springing open and widening at his words. The sound of boiling water ripping through the kitchen and overpowering whatever song is playing on the other side of the room.
âFuck!â
Scrambling, you grab an oven mitt, carefully rushing to take the pot off the heat. A string of curses following you to the sink. Mikey chuckles behind you, offering no help whatsoever. His laughter fills the small kitchen and it would melt your heart if you werenât doing anything important at the moment.
âAnd you said you were gonna blow my mindâŚâ Mikey smirks, leaning against the counter. The corner of his eyes crinkle with laughter.
You throw your head back, groaning. âYou were fucking kissing me and being a fucking distraction!â
He throws his hands up in mock surrender. âWell excuse me, princess, didnât know giving you love and affection was off limits!â
âItâs not!â You huff. âBut when Iâm doing anything involving boiling water, you canât be anywhere near me!â
âAlright babe,â He passes you, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead as he goes back to the cutting board. âNow get back to work, chef.â
â˘
#the bear#the bear fx#the bear x reader#the bear fx x reader#michael berzatto#michael berzatto x reader#mikey berzatto#mikey berzatto x reader#mikey berzatto fluff#the bear blurb#the bear fluff
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#sydcarmy#carmy x syd#carmen x sydney#carmen berzatto#carmy x sydney#carmy berzatto#syd x carmy#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#sydney adamu#ayo edebiri#jeremy allen white#the bear#the bear hulu#the bear fx#the bear tv
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Your writing is stunning! Can I request injured!reader and Carmy rushing to be by her side? god the idea of that man dropping everything to be with you....
this has been in my drafts for probably a year now. i forget why i was hesitant to post it. so hereâs something for you all :)
âHey, Cousinââ
âIâm in the middle âf something, not now, Richieââ
âHey.â He raises his brows, gives that serious look that has Carmenâs head peeking over his shoulder because itâs so sharp he can feel it. âItâs your girl. You wanna take this.â
He gets nervous, then, heart beginning to race. Whereâs his fuckinâ phone?
âGive it here,â he says, arm extended. Richie hands it over and slips out the door, shutting it to leave Carmen by himself in the office; it only makes hurt stomach lurch harder.
He lifts the phone to his ear. âHello?â
â. . . Carm?â Your voice is broken and wobbly, wrought with tears.
âBaby?â He doesnât even think before heâs jumping out of his chair, tucking the phone between his jaw and shoulder while he scrambles to find his keys. âBaby, you there? Where are you?â
âI-Iâm at the hospital, I tried calling youââ
âThe hospitalâ?â His mind goes back to New York, back to that morning. âWhatââ He takes a deep breath. His jacket. Where the fuck is it? âOkay, youâre okay, Iâm cominâ now, alright?â He storms out of the office toward the lockers, finds everything right where he put it, including his phone. Dead. Fuck. âI gotta hang up, okay? Iâm sorry, I know, I canât take the phone with me. Iâll be there soon, I promise.â
âO-Okay.â A shuddered breath rings through the line, and it kills him. âIâm okay, Carmyââ
âI know,â he says, shimmying into his jacket and feeling for his keys. âI know, baby, but Iâm cominâ anyway, you hear me? Gonna be there in ten.â
âOkay.â
âOkay. I love you.â
He doesnât put the phone back properly, just slides it across the counter and hopes it doesnât break again, shouting out orders over his shoulder on his way out the door.
The ride there is the longest ten minutes of his life. He doesnât know what to expect. He doesnât know anything at all, really. Are you hurt? How bad is it? What happened? Is it a burn, a broken bone, just a flu that got out of hand? Will you need surgery? Did you get in an accident? Did someone try to hurt you? He doesnât want you to be alone right now. He needs to be there with you. You were fine this morning. You were fine this morning, all beautiful and groggy when he kissed you awake, still cozied up in bed when he left early as the sky turned blue after sunrise. You were fine. You were fine, and then he left, and suddenly you werenât.
The fluorescent lights make him nauseous. Theyâre too bright, and a disgusting color, and too different from all the gentle lighting you insisted upon at home. Made the place homey, you said, and he agreed. The nurses at the station must think heâs out of his mind, all wide-eyed and asking for you.
âWhatâs your name?â the one asks him.
âCarmen, Iâm her fiancĂŠ, I wasâI was just on the phone with herââ
âOkay,â she nods, softening. âSheâs doinâ alright now, she was askinâ for you, though. Still gotta get her wrapped up, but youâll be outta here soon.â
Heâs too busy wondering What the fuck does that mean? to properly answer.
When heâs finally brought to your room, his nerves subsideâonly a little. Thereâs no blood, no bland hospital gown to say youâre headed off to the operating room. Just a pillow over your tummy, with your armâyour swollen, bruised armâresting on top of it.
âHey, hon,â he says, coming to your bedside and smoothing a hand over your forehead to press his lips to your temple. âYou alright? What happened?â
âTheyââ you sniffle when you look up at him, lip quiveringâ âThey had to take my ring off, Carmyââ he nods along to your rambling with a concerned browâ âI-I told them not to, but they said my hand was too swollenâthat-that it was gonna mess up my fingerâ. . .â
âWhatâs that, baby?â He smiles into your hair and exhales through his nose. So typical of you to get upset about something cute like that, he knows youâll be okay. âYour armâs all black ân blue, and youâre worried about your ringâ?â
âBut itâs specialââ
âShhhhh . . . I know, I know . . . âm just askinâ you to ease up.â Another kiss lands on your forehead before he asks, âWhereâs it at, baby? Iâll fix it for you.â
You pout and look somewhere behind him. âOn the table, but youâre not gonna be able toââ
âJust take a breath ân relax fâme, yeah? I got it.â
He stands upright again, turning to check that the ring is thereâthat beautiful, beautiful big diamond for his precious girl, before reaching toward the nape of his neck to unclasp his chain. Carefully, he threads it through the ring, silently urges you to sit up so he can hook it around your neck, icy-cool on your smooth skin, admiring the way it sparkles like your eyes.
Youâre still pouting when heâs done, and he kisses your soft lips anyway while he wipes away stray tears. âBetter?â
â. . . yeah,â you admit through a murmur.
âGood,â he huffs, pulling the visitorâs chair right next to your bed. With your good arm, you reach for him, just any part of him, and he holds your hand as he kisses your dry knuckles. âYou gonna tell me what happened now? Whatâs got you all banged up?â
And you groan and roll your eyes, insisting that itâs too embarrassing to tell, and he lets you drag it out just because he thinks itâs cute when youâre stubborn. The doctor comes in with the x-rays to confirm that, yes, indeed, youâve got yourself a broken arm, and after youâre splinted and discharged and given a sling and the next dayâs protocol, Carmen holds your good hand on the way out the door.
âOh,â you start, pausing before he opens the car door for you, âI forgot to tell you.â
âHm?â
âI drove here.â
âYou what?â
âI told you, I was embarrassed, Carmââ
âJesus fuckinâ Christ, baby,â he grunts, laughing and shaking his head with fingers running through his hair as he helps you into the passengerâs seat. âYouâre killinâ me today, yâknow that?â
And itâs not the last time. When he unlocks the front door and sees the laundry spilled all the way down the stairs, with a basket flipped upside down at the bottom, he can put the pieces together. He kisses you softly, doesnât say a word about it, takes you to the bedroom, and tucks you into bed to let you rest now that your adrenaline is wearing off and the pain meds are making you sleepy.
He fixes up the mess without a second thought, and once heâs done he slips right under the covers next to you, thanking whatever God there is that youâre okay, and that heâs got you back in his arms.
(And tomorrow, when he takes you into the doctorâs office for a proper cast, he has Natalie and Pete pick up your car. He still hounds on you about it weeks later, how you drove yourself to the hospital with a broken arm. You insist it makes for a good story, and to that he canât deny.)
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#jeremy allen white#carmy the bear#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto fic#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu
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could use a push |carmen berzatto x reader|
prompt: sometimes carmen needs persuasion to finish his tasks. sometimes you have to persuade him.
part of the carmen x social media manager au. the two other works follow me and fall into me can be found here <3
contains: smut. slight voyeurism-ish?? oral male receiving. super sweet and smutty. social media manager!reader. carmen hates doing tasks lol.
âCarmen,â Sydney turned, carrying a large tray of vegetables that needed to be prepped, expertly dodging the other chefs working on the line. Carmen gave a huff of a grunt, not bothering to look up from his own prep, too in the zone.Â
âChef,â Sydney huffed, firmer this time, catching his attention when the tray smacked on the counter next to him. âSomeoneâs in the office for you.âÂ
âMe?â Carmen blinked, brows pulling in a deep frown. âNo, not fâme-âÂ
â-Yes, for you, Chef-âÂ
â-No, thatâs Richieâs job. Cousin,â Carmen leaned back, shouting towards the swinging doors.Â
âCarmen, will you- thereâs someone in the office for you. Ok? Theyâre here for you, not Richie.â Sydney muttered, shaking her head in annoyance.Â
Carmen paused, looking at Sydney. âWhatâre you doinâ?â He asked.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âNo, whatâre you doinâ?â Carmen repeated, eyes narrowed at her skeptically. âNo-No one should be in my office. Iâm not doinâ the interviews for bussers, thatâs Richie, so whoâs in the office? Hm? Whatâs goinâ on?âÂ
âNothingâs goinâ on, jeez.â Sydney rolled her eyes. âThere is someone in the office for you.âÂ
âYeah? Is it-itâs Fak? Is he fuckinâ with me? Gonna walk in there and what? Gonna spray some shit on me like weâre fuckinâ fourteen-âÂ
â-What? No.â Sydney frowned. âI donât- Look, I was told not to tell you whoâs in there because itâs a surprise, ok? Itâs not bad. Just- Can you go in there? I donât know why they asked me to do this, but Iâm clearly not good at the whole surprise thing, so just do me a favor and go see for yourself.âÂ
Carmen huffed, wiping his hands on the clean towel next to him, craning to see his office from his spot. He looked at Sydney with a deadpan expression. âIf I get sprayed with some shit, Chef.âÂ
Sydney rolled her eyes in annoyance, turning to pass the prep to the chef beside her. Carmen looked carefully to see if anyone around him was lurking, hiding in the shadows to watch him get ambushed so they could have a laugh. He felt like he was twelve again, Richie and Mikey always fucking with him so he���d get red faced and embarrassed just so they could laugh at him.Â
Twisting the knob to the office, Carmen let the door fall open before he stepped towards it. Thankfully, there were no signs of shit falling from the ceiling, nobody hiding in the shadows. Instead, sitting in his office chair was a much more pleasant surprise- you.Â
âHey,â Carmenâs face lit up, lips curling in a greeting. âWhat- I didnât know you were cominâ today.âÂ
âI decided to surprise you.â You smiled back. âAmbush you, really.âÂ
âAmbush?â Carmen snorted lightly, shutting the door behind him. âWhatâre you ambushinâ me for?âÂ
You stood, letting your arms wrap around his waist in greeting, lips brushing his before he took your mouth in his fully, kissing you sweetly just like he had this morning. âMm,â You sighed, pulling back quicker than Carmen would have liked.Â
âI came to ambush you for content.â You batted your eyes sweetly at him, feeling his shoulders fall under your touch. âBecause you were supposed to let me shoot the new menu items this week and you still havenât.â
âBaby,â Carmen huffed, pulling a hand away from the small of your back to rub over his forehead. âI-I donât- Why do I have to be in them?âÂ
âBecause people want to see you, Carm.â You glared at him lightly. âThey see Marcus and Tina and Sydney all the time, and they want to see you too. Youâre the head chef.âÂ
âYeah, but-but why? Itâs so fuckinâ stupid.â Carmen grumbled, huffy already, the start of a bickering fight youâd had a million times before. To say Carmen was camera shy was an understatement.Â
âWhy is it stupid?â You put your hands on your hips. âPeople want to feel connected. They want an inside look. They want to feel like they know you and theyâre a part of something. Thatâs what gets people to come.â It was the same argument, every time. Carmen knew it, he understood it, he just⌠Well, he didnât like it.Â
âIâll prompt you on everything to say,â You grabbed at him, trying to coo at him, coax him into finally letting him do your job. It was easier before the two of you were dating, before he was comfortable, when heâd suck it up in the name of professionalism.Â
âAll you have to do is cook me a dish, and answer my questions, and thatâs it! Itâll be done in no time, and you can pick whichever one you want from the summer menu.â You ran a hand soothingly down his arm, over his toned bicep, trying not to drool at the definition.Â
You could feel Carmen swaying already, turning into your touch, teetering on relenting. âDoes it have to be a video?â Carmen grumbled, looking at you with pleading eyes. ââM already behind and I-I need to do some prep, and-âÂ
â-Donât lie to me.â You frown at him. âI asked Sydney before and she said you were all caught up for the day. Ahead, actually.â You lifted a brow in challenge.Â
Carmen huffed, turning to look over his shoulder, cursing Sydney in his head. âI know your games, Berzatto.â You poked his tummy lightly, trying to lighten his mood with playfulness. The last thing you needed was him to be so sulky during the filming, ruining the content. âKnow all your tricks, so donât even try them.âÂ
Carmen let out a half huff, lips pursing in a tight line in defeat. He was so pouty, petulant, really, but you decided against teasing him about it.Â
âOne video?â Your hand slid up his chest, cupping his cheek gently, pulling his eyes back to yours, heart fluttering when his gaze was on you. âOne video and⌠and Iâll make it up to you.âÂ
Carmenâs heart stuttered, leaping with excitement he tried to swallow down. âYeah? Make it up to me how?â He muttered, voice dropping low to a near gravel.Â
Your lips twitched, pulling at the corners of your mouth in a wicked, triumphant smile. âIf you do the video for me today,â You purred, slowly pulling away, slinking towards the door. âIâll owe you something later. Whatever you want.â Your lashes batted in suggestive playfulness. Â
Carmenâs palms itched with excitement, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. âYeah?â He tried to keep his voice steady, keep it from cracking to show his eagerness. âW-Whatâd you have in mind?âÂ
You shrugged sweetly, clicking the lock on the door. âOh, thatâll be up to you, Chef.â You grinned, Carmenâs posture going rigid with thrill.Â
âBut if you promise after this youâll do my video,â You stepped towards him, toe to toe with each other, though neither touched the other. âIâll give you a little taste of what I had in mind for later.â Â
Carmen swallowed, nodding furiously. Heâd blame the blood rushing from his brain to his cock as the reason he agreed so easily, the reason he was persuaded without much fight. You lifted your brows in an amused question.Â
âYeah? Youâll do it for me?â You tilted your head to the side gently.Â
Carmen nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. âYes, fuck, yeah. I-Iâll do it.âÂ
You grinned, sliding your hands down his arms, towards his torso. âThank you, baby.â You hummed sweetly. âYou want me to give you a little sneak peek of what I had in mind for tonight? A little thank you for now?âÂ
Carmen bobbed his head furiously, swallowing a shudder when your hands slid over his lower belly, slowly towards his waistband. âYou want me to give you a little taste then?â You whispered, a purr in your tone that had Carmen throbbing, aching behind the zipper of his jeans.Â
âPlease,â Carmen croaked, jaw tight trying desperately to stay quiet.Â
You grinned triumphantly, hand sliding and cupping over his bulge, palming him through his jeans. âAlright, since you asked so nicely.â You batted your lashes at him, holding his gaze as you sank to your knees in front of him. âIâll give you a taste.âÂ
Carmenâs head tipped back in pleasure, swallowing a breathy moan that threatened to escape, eyes darting around the small space of his office. The door was locked, the blinds shut, but still he had a nagging fear that Richie or Sweeps or someone would bust through the door, catching the two of you in the act. His veins pricked with tingling excitement at the thought, heartbeat thudding in his ears when he looked down at you through his lashes, watching you pull him from his boxers, pumping his length.Â
âMm,â You moaned quietly, soft lips pressing even softer, feather-like kisses up his shaft.Â
âDo-Donât tease me, baby.â Carmen whispered, voice tight in a groan. You looked up at him innocently, eyes rounded sweetly. âPlease.â Carmen added.Â
âI wonât.â Your breath ghosted over his cock, leaving him shivering at the sensation. The pad of your thumb swiping over his already leaking head, spreading his release around. âIâll make it quick. Just relax, Carm. Iâve got you.âÂ
Carmen slid a hand over his mouth, muffling a moan when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue swirling around the head. His teeth sank into his knuckles, head tipping back towards the ceiling at the sensation.Â
âOh, fuck, fuck, fu-uck.â Carmen muttered, your free hand pumping his length, slowly taking his tip past your warm lips. Your eyes stayed on him the entire time, rounded and eager to please, eager to watch him be pleased.Â
Carmenâs free hand moved to the top of your head, cradling it gently as you sucked him off, cupping his balls and massaging them. Youâd always been so good at this. Heâd told you that from the beginning, heart nearly exploding when youâd smiled sheepishly and asked him, âreally?â in the sweetest voice heâd ever heard.Â
From then on, Carmen had never failed to sing your praises- in anything you did, but especially when you gave him head. Now, he fought back the urge to groan loudly, to look down at you and say filthy, sweet things that would have you squirming, thighs rubbing together. Anywhere else but here, he would have, but he couldnât risk the others hearing.Â
Instead, he moved his hand to cup your cheek, hollowed and full with his length, thumb brushing over your cheek bone sweetly. âYouâre makinâ me feel so fuckinâ good, baby. S-So fuckinâ good.â Carmen rasped, clenching his hips to keep them from bucking when you moaned around his lengths, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core. He was close, you both knew it.Â
You pressed the pad of your thumb gently down the seam of his balls, hitting a sweet spot Carmen didnât even know existed until he met you, a breathy whine of a moan catching in his throat.Â
ââM close, baby. âM- Like really fuckinâ close.â Carmen whispered, brain beginning to fog, ears starting to buzz with a dull ringing that always came with his orgasms.Â
You picked up speed, head bobbing at a fast rate, up and down his length, swallowing him further and further, gagging when you took him a little too far. You always looked at him with embarrassment, a little sheepish when youâd do that, like he didnât beg for you to do it again, like he didnât bust every time you did.Â
âShit, shit, shit, âM-â Carmenâs mouth fell open dumbly, eyes blowing and glazing with ecstasy, a strangled gasp and moan filling the room as he came, spilling his load down your throat. You kept pumping him through it, milking his length onto your tongue, hot release onto your taste buds while his body shook with pleasure.Â
Carmenâs shoulders heaved, rounding with exhausted pleasure as he slowly came down off his high. You waited until he looked back at you, eyes meeting yours to swallow. Carmen nearly fainted right then and there at the sight.Â
Thirty minutes later, you were set up with your camera, the two of you giggly and sweet in your own corner of the kitchen, while Carmen eagerly filmed your video. Even feeding you a bite when he was finished with the dish, beaming at your praise.Â
#thebearer#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto social media au#carmen berzatto x social media manager!reader#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmy smut#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto âx fem!reader#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy the bear#the bear hulu#the bear fx#carmen berzatto fic#the bear fic#au carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto blurb#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto smut#the bear s3#the bear season 3
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dealing with it- chef luca
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gif from @ wiha-jun
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summary: you see carmen for the first time in years, things happen, but at least your husband is there for you :)
pairings: chef luca x fem! reader, EX carmen berzatto x reader
warnings: smoking, cursing, reader endorses smoking (it makes sense i promise), toxic relationships, fighting, happy ending, luca is a cutie pie, carm is an ass :(
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Carmen had been staring at you the whole night. You, standing diligently beside your mother, and Luca.Â
When dinner came and you sat beside Luca again, the question begged to leave his mouth, but he decided on waiting and watching.Â
âSo Y/n,â Sydney turned to you. âI would love to literally pick your brain apart for the inspo of your last cookbook.â
You chuckled. âWell, Luca and I went all around the world on our honeymoon and-â
âWhat?â Carmen choked on his drink. âS-sorry did I fucking hear that right? Honeymoon?â
Luca sighed deeply, the energy at the table shifting. âYes Carm, she said âhoneymoonâ.â
Honeymoon. You and Luca were married. Married and he didnât even know it. Married, and he hadnât even known that his last chance had been his last chance.Â
You were Chef Andreaâs daughter, and you were everyoneâs forbidden fruit. You worked with them, trained with them, and Carmen had been so deeply interested in you, that he broke the rules. He went after you, and he didnât even feel bad about it. Youâd started out dating in secret, then slowly warmed your mom up to the idea, and suddenly it was out in the open. Sure youâd had fights and sure, maybe it wasnât the most healthy relationship ever, but Carmen loved you. He still did. When it fell apart, it was all Carmenâs fault (as usual) and youâd sworn off chefs.Â
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âFucking hell Bear! Iâm asking you to do this one fucking thing for me, and itâs too fucking hard?â You shouted at the top of your lungs. âI love you! I moved to fucking Coppenhagen for you! I moved to fucking New York for you! What is your problem with me taking a job in London?! I can probably get you into the same place-â
âNO! No, I fucking donât alright? Youâre fucking- youâre fucking boring! You never make anything new- youâre so f-fucking obsessed with being the-the-the best at something that you wonât even try to innovate!â
You stood there, in his kitchen and he watched as the tears fell. He took a deep breath and stepped closer, holding your waist in his hands. He tried not to be offended or upset when you went rigid as he touched you, but he felt his heart break. âBaby I-Iâm sorry, look, yâknow Iâm sorry-âÂ
âYouâre a piece of shit Carm. Just because Iâm better than you doesnât mean you get to talk to me like that. Weâre not fucking trainees at my momâs restaurant anymore, alright? Iâm fucking better than you and i know it boils your fucking blood. I got this position. All on my own,â you spat. âYou are the lowest of the low Carm. I swear to fucking god, if I ever date another chef again, kill me.â
And with that, you walked out. Out of his apartment and out of his life.Â
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âW-wait so-s-, you two got married? Since when?â Carmen laughed, but it was wrong. It was forced and haunted, strange. Â
âSince the 14th of July last year,â Luca smiled and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.
âCongratulations guys,â Sydney smiled. âCarm, say congratulations,â she whispered and Carm nodded furiously.
âYeah! Yeah- congratulations to the liar and her shitty douchebag of a husband!â He cheered, gathering the attention of the other tables.Â
âStop making a fucking scene Carm,â your voice cut through the ringing in his ears. âThis isnât about you. This is about my mom, and what this restaurant meant to people. Stop. Being. An. Asshole.â
He felt like heâd been effectively bitch slapped, and he quietened down, but not before kicking Luca under the table.Â
Theyâd both been after you, back in the day. And youâd picked Carm at first, and realised your mistake. When you met Luca in London, you werenât going to mess it up again. 3 years later, you were a year married, and a lot happier. Too bad Carmen had to make everything about himself, again.
He went out to get some âairâ a little while later, and you followed him.Â
---------------------
âSoâŚâ you sighed, standing beside him. âHi.â
âHi,â he sighed. He watched as you took a cigarette out and lit it, then offered one to him. He shook his head.Â
âYou quit?â You asked, blowing the smoke away from him. He nodded. âYou should start again.â
He looked at you in confusion. âWhat?â
âYou shouldnât stop, youâre fucking crazy when you donât smoke,â you chuckled, though everything you said was true. Heâd tried to give it up for a month about 4 months into your relationship and it was the most stressful month of your life. You sighed as you thought about it. Every time he was rude to someone, you apologised for him. Every time he fucked something up, you made it up for him. Every time he did something stupid, you made it smart somehow. It was fucked up how much he relied on you, when you thought about it in hindsight. âEveryone will thank you.â
He laughed. âI guess that was a shitty month, huh?â
âOne of the worst of my life,â you admitted.Â
There was a moment of silence.Â
âI miss it,â He admitted.Â
âSmoking? You can have the rest of this pack-â
âUs.â
You sighed. âYou were doing so well,â you joked. âJust donât bring it up Carm, we donât need to dig up the past.â
âI want to,â he pleaded.Â
âI donât,â you scoffed. âThereâs nothing for us to talk about, nothing about us worked, nothing about us was ok, or normal, or happy, or-â
âDoes he make you happy?â Carmen asked, venom in his tone. âDoes he make you feel fuckinâ-fuckinâ butterflies? Does he fuck you like I did? D-does he even see you the way I did? Does he make you laugh?â
âHe doesnât make me cry,â you smiled softly, thinking of Luca and how much you truly loved him. âHe doesnât make me question our relationship everyday. He doesnât make me feel untalented and undeserving. He doesnât make me feel used. He met me in London when I was crushed after our break-up, and he healed something he didnât break in me, alright? He made me feel loved for the first time in a long time. My mom fucking loves him, a lot more than she liked you. He let me take everything at my own pace, and he never pushed me into something I wasnât ready for. He wasnât afraid to show his love for me to anyone! He didnât make me question if we were even dating, ever! And the best part is, he fucking married me Carm, in this gorgeous ceremony where he cried while I came down the aisle and he cried during his vows. Do you want to know what his vows were? Ask him when we get inside, because he got his and mine fucking tattooed on his arm!â You were welling up at this stage. âHe stood there with me, through thick and fucking thin, he made me feel loved when I felt unlovable, Carmen. And yes he gives me butterflies, yes he fucks me better than you ever did, and he sees me for who I am. So yes, he makes me very fucking happy Carmen.â
Carmen stood there for a moment, then nodded. âI still love you, you know that, right?â
You scoffed, stamping out your cigarette. âYou might want to get over that,â and you turned away, and walked back into the dinner. The rest of the dinner was quick, and you skipped the invite to Sydneyâs to retire to your hotel room. You sat on the bed, makeup wipes in hand as you tried to wash the night off of you.Â
âHey darling,â Lucaâs soft voice cut through the thoughts clouding your mind. âDo you want to talk about it?â
You smiled as he wrapped you up in a bear hug from behind, he was so perfect, so kind, so Luca. âSure.â
âI heard a little bit of what you said to Carmy outside.â
You took a deep breath. âYeah?â
âYeah,â he sighed. âBefore tonight, I was really fucking scared that when you found Carmy heâd somehow convince you I was a piece of shit and heâd sink his fucking claws into you again.â
You pressed a kiss to his arm and nodded. âHeâs fuckingâŚâ
âHeâs the worst,â he finished for you. âAnd Iâm sorry about what he said tonight. He shouldâve had the fucking manners to at least let us get to the third course before he started being a piece of shit.â
You both laughed, and you felt all the tension you held in slowly dissipate. âIt was so delicious.â
âIt was fucking amazing,â he pressed a kiss to your cheek. âYou mum really did something special there.â
âAt least weâll see her more in London,â you shrugged. âI really loved that place.â
âSo did I,â He sighed against your neck. âRemember training there? God, you were so fucking cute in your chefâs hat-â
âHats make me look stupid!â You argued, but laughed regardless. You flung his arms off of you, and a wrestling match ensued, one that ended with him under you. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then he deepened it, his hands sneaking up your thighs and around your head.Â
âYou look good in anything,â he whispered. âBut my favourite thing you ever wore was your wedding dress.â
When you pulled away from his lips you saw the starry-eyed smile and sincere look on his face, and you knew you made the right choice.Â
Luca was your everything. Carmen was nothing now, and he had to live with that.
---------------------
the bear masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
#chef luca x reader#chef luca#the bear#will poulter#luca x reader#luca the bear#luca the bear x reader#carmy berzatto#the bear s3#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#the bear fx#the bear season 3
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You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair on her opening night.
Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig.
Bad thing: you've been avoiding the Berzatto family since the funeral.
pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader, but also like, reader's friends with the entire crew (esp Richie, Syd & posthumously Mikey), so if you're just here for the platonic fun of those dynamics, pls enjoy!
tasting notes; slowest of slow burns, semi-strangers (you'll see) to friends to lovers. lot of hurt/comfort. there will be angst, cause it's FX's The Bear.
portion; in progress!!
recommended listening; handmade spotify playlist.
faq; if you got some Qs
kofi; tip your repairman! if you want.
possible allergies; fully spoils the entire series (par for season 3, as I'm writing this ahead of release, so, p.s if you're from the future: off-canon). I've never written smut before and I couldn't tell you if I'm gonna be willing to try by the end of this-- So if that's your thing, temper thine expectations! Mikey is very central to the reader's background-- which is also quite padded, so def prep the brain for a more in-depth look at his passing and struggles w/ addiction. No Y/N, just a FUCK ton of nicknames.
TABLE OF CONTENTS A.K.A REPAIR INVOICE
Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix
Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair
Pretty. | Bolting Down Booths
I Want To. | Wellness Check
Where To? | Delivery Fees
Doing Too Much. | House Call
The Other Shoe | Consultation
Carved In. | Separate Invoice
Ad Interim. | No Service
Zero Pulse. | Oven Hotfix
Just Dropped. | Missing Invoice
Something to Do. | Catering
Two Steps Back. | Advanced Payment
Don't Say It. | Closing Out
Loosen Your Grip. | R & D (FINALLY!!)
Repairman's got reduced hours now, call back later.
#i was told i should make onea these#masterlist#the bear fanfiction#the bear fx#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x you#landingpage#carmen berzatto x female reader
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Two to Tango
prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
collection masterlist: Clingy Baby
word count: 5.4k+
note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! itâs meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!
warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.
part one: God's Plan
"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"
You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"
"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"
He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."
"What do you want?"
"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.
You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"
He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"
"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.
"Oh, someone's touchy."
"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"
He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."
You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"
"He's falling apart."
"O...Kay?"
"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."
"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.
"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."
"So, he needs his mother?"
Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."
"I'm not laughing."
"He needs you."
"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."
"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."
You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"
"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."
"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.
"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "
"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"
Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."
"Sucks to suck."
"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"
"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."
"How is talking to the man you love - "
"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."
"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."
You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"
He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"
"To say... What?"
"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."
You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.
"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."
"Really?"
"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"
He shrugged, "Maybe..."
"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."
"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."
"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."
"He won't go."
You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."
Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"
"What?"
"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"
"It's not even seven in the morning!"
"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."
You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.
When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.
"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."
"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.
"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.
The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "
"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"
He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.
"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.
"Carmy, we need to talk."
"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.
"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "
"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."
"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."
"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"
"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "
"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."
"Carmy," you sighed patiently.
"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "
"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."
"Nah, I'm okay - "
"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."
"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."
"Calling me desperate?"
"I didn't mean any of it."
"A bitch?"
"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."
You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."
"I don't deserve you."
"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."
"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.
"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."
"I know," he squeezed you tight.
"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.
"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."
"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."
"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."
"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."
"I don't deserve it."
"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."
He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."
"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.
"Move in with me - officially."
Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "
"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."
"Carmy."
He frowned, "I'm sorry."
"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"
He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."
You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."
"I'm fine - "
"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."
He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.
"Exactly why we're going back to yours."
Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"
You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"
You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."
He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.
"Okay?"
"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."
"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"
"I will be."
"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."
"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.
"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."
"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.
"Fair point - just one then - "
He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.
When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."
"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."
He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.
"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.
"We're talking it out."
He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."
"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"
He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"
"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."
Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.
When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.
"Why?" He whispered.
You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."
"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.
"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."
Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."
"It's okay, baby," you whispered.
"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"
"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"
He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.
You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.
"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."
You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.
"Why can't I get out?"
You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.
"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"
"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.
"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."
"Laid to rest."
"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"
"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."
"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."
"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.
When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.
"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."
"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."
He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.
"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.
"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.
"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"
"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"
"I don't want you t'clean after me."
"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"
"I feel better, yeah."
"Good."
"And I made up my mind."
"Hmm? About what?"
"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."
"Think you can handle that?"
He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."
You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."
"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.
True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.
You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.
Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.
You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.
They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.
You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.
Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.
And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.
requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto angst#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto hurt and comfort#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto#carmen carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x female!reader
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So I currently have food poisoning and I canât help but it think how mad Carmy would be if a restaurant gave his gf/wife food poisoning
Also Carmy come take care of me and make me soup plz đââď¸đŤ
Plus he would give the best snuggles đ
firstly, sending lots of love and recovery, i've never actually had fp lmao so a lot of time on webmd will be spent. get ur fluids in! secondly, carmen might have to go underground for setting the restaurant on fire. we love him for it
summary: You were hungry and had just finished work and you didn't think about inspecting the goddamn Michelin star restaurant, maybe you should have.
warnings; cursing, food poisoning, richie (he's a warning), hipsters, talks of future arsony, possessive carmen, cracked fic ngl,
divider by @firefly-graphics
i'm slipping back into the unsafe territory of wanting fictional characters. (and i don't care)
You could roll your eyes in annoyance if you weren't hunched over the ceramic bowl of the toilet heaving out the contents of your stomach while Carmen held you hair back.
The one time, the one goddamn time you decide to try a new place without Carmen's input, without his meticulous standards and in depth research behind every night out.
It wasn't like you hadn't tried to vet the new braised beef spot that opened up on west Avenue. In fact, you had heard all but stellar reviews from friends and family, meeting you with suprise hearing that Carmen hadn't taken you. You decided to bring home a small plate, their signature braised meat with plums, red onions and atrichocke hearts.
You had meant to share it with Carmen, and you were going to, but a botched catering order had him staying back another hour than what had been planned. And well..you say you tried to save some for Carmen, but despite its bacteria laced beef and vomit inducing sides it was pretty fuckin' good.
Was this God's wrath coming down upon you? Punishing you for your gluttony? Food poisoning did feel awfully close to perpetual hellfire.
The TV was blaring some indescriptive show, the kind with dramatic introductions and soap opera worthy screams. It helped fill the space of absence when Carmen worked long nights, and you felt quite comfortable wrapped up in a blanket with a full stomach and a warm sofa.
Your phone had pinged with the sound of Carmen's text, letting you know he was on the way when it started. At first you had written it off as mere indigestion, probably from shoveling the cursed meal into your mouth too quickly.
Then, around the time the show's main character had found out her boyfriend got her mother pregnant, the nausea set in. Swirling aches that felt like a whirlpool in your stomach had taken over, sloshing and swirling and never leaving. You couldn't mistake it, as you tried to swallow past a dry throat and the creeping sweats of a headache inducing fever began to ravage your body.
You hated sitting in discomfort, it wasn't as though you were afraid of vomiting no, you just could not bare to feel the way your stomach skipped and jumped with every wave of nausea that took over.
You thought of making yourself sick, but shook your head when the alarming disapproval of Carmen's voice loomed over.
"It's just gonna make it worse, you gotta sit with it till it passes"
Fuck him and his medical knowledge. What did he know?
You had ripped off the blanket that had once felt comforting, peeling of layers of clothing that stuck to your body like a second skin. You just felt hot, so hot, is anyone else feeling this heat? You try to move from the couch to reach your phone, but the sudden movement has nausea bubbling up your throat.
You fall to the ground in a heap, hand clasped around your mouth to stop the possibility of projectile vomiting on the rug you had just bought and shoot your hand up to reach for your phone.
You press Carmen's number, begging him to answer you in genuine crisis rather than when you were drunk with friends and missed him. You feel the urge to heave and crawl quickly to the bathroom, phone clasped in hand and suddenly desperately needed his medical knowledge.
Carmen phone rings from the behind the stack of documents in the office, and he hastily wipes his hands across his apron before trying to reach it before it rings out.
Guilt fills his stomach at the thought of you, he was meant to be home hours ago. The catering order needed a few extra hands to help, and once Carmen began he got lost in it, and now you had spent nearly the entire night alone.
"Fuck- Hey baby, I know I said I was comin' but I had to finish a couple things-" Carmen quickly responds as he swipes the call button.
The groan of pain that responds has Carmen freezing in the middle of the kitchen.
"Baby? What-, are you okay?" Carmen replies quickly, his voice going short as his mind turns every possible scenario that had you whining in pain over the receiver.
"Please come quickly, Carmen I think I might-" You gulp and make a retching sound "I think I got sick from that place I was telling you about" You plead out, breathing heavily into the speaker.
The guilt that had filled Carmen seems to morph into an anger that rushes up his chest as he shakes his head.
"The new place? The one with the fuckin' smoke meat? They did this?"
"Mhm" You mumble "I should've just listened to you" You groan out in sadness.
"Fucking idiots. How the fuck did they even? Okay, okay honey just gimme a second yeah?"
How did he let this happen? Carmen has half the mind to stop at the restaurant that more of a Instagram attraction that a respected place of business. You were so eager and excited t try it, Carmen had his own thoughts but would glue his mouth shut if it meant making you happy.
He'll make sure they get shut down, or at least black listed from Chicago as long as he's concerned. His hands shake with the eager want for the fight, to smash someones jaw for resorting you to a heap of tears and sick. He would, he knows he will, but at this moment he needed to take care of your first.
He mumbles out a rushed reply, phone between his shoulder and ear as he slips out of his work shoes and into his sneakers. He thinks for a moment to grab his things but immediately shut that thought out when he hears you groaning into the phone.
"Just stay on the phone okay? I'm coming now, I need to get you some things alright?"
You let out what you hope is a reply, hunched over the toilet.
Carmen rushes to the store fridge, grabbing containers of soup Tina had prepared for family as the Chicago winter was getting close.
"You alright kid?" Richie mumbles, walking into the kitchen entry way, scratching his stomach as he watched Carmen's erratic movements around the store.
"Fuckin-, she's sick. And I'm here chopping up tomatoes for fucking Guy while she was in pain for god knows how long-"
"Woah, Bugs sick? We talking COVID or.."
"I'm such a fucking idiot. No it's not COVID Rich, Jesus Christ. Some rookie new spot trying something outside of their abilities gave her food poisoning. Fuckin' hipsters"
"Oh that's bad. You know when I got food poisoning the one time I took Tiff to this romantic getaway. Had me projectile vomiting in the AirBnb bathroom. Couldn't even get a deposit back, had to pay some dumb ass cleaning fee-"
Carmen wipes a hand across his face shaking his head. He was already pent up, he might throw a pan at Richie if he doesn't stop talking.
"Richie, I don't have time for this, I need to get her some Sprite or"
Richie shuffles across to the cupboard near the back of the house, grabbing bottles of Gatorade and a pack of saltine crackers.
"How do you even have this stuff lying around"
"You're the one with the inhuman alcohol tolerance Carmy, someone of us actually have hangovers you freak" Richie retorts
"Yeah yeah, thanks. Fuck- I gotta" Carmen replies, to which Richie nods.
"Go. I'll wrap up anything here" Richie replies, understanding in his voice. You took precedence over pretty much everything in Carmen's life.
"And Carm?"
"Yeah?" Carmen calls out, slipping on his jacket as he turns to Richie
"Tell me when we're going to sort out those bearded wearing flannel ass wipes"
Carmen shakes his head with a smile, before nodding and pushing past the kitchen doors. The traffic lights better be green green fuckin' green tonight.
You were stripped to a singlet and sleeping shorts as you knelt over the toilet, blinking back exhausted tears at the state of you.
You suppose you have no one else to blame but yourself, but the indignation righteousness burns almost as bright as the acid reflux crawling up your throat.
You hear the faint opening and loud clang of the apartment door opening and closing and you sigh in relief as you hear the familiar footfalls of Carmen down the hall.
It had felt damn near torturous suffering without him, and as he calls out to you following the trail of loose clothing he spots your figure in the bathroom sprawled.
"Oh honey, I'm sorry" Carmen says
And it was as if your body needed to finally feel safe in Carmen's presence before you felt the nausea spill out of you and splash offensively into the toilet.
You feel Carmen crouch above you, dragging your hair that had gone loose from it's wrapped up do away from your face. Gently rubbing your back, his large hands softly dipping up and down your spine.
"That's it, 'atta girl. Let it all out" Carmen coo's softly
You purged the insides of your stomach into the toilet bowl, retching loudly with every heave as Carmen comforted you. After what seemed like hours, and the nausea had subsided Carmen carefully wrapped his arms up under your armpits picking you up of the floor.
"Slowly, yeah? You damn near emptied out you're entire water content" Carmen murmurs, flushing the toilet and helping you walk to the basin and wash out the taste of bile from your mouth.
"I probably look insane" You cry out, blinking back exhaustion from your eyes as Carmen shakes his head furiously.
"Never, my pretty girl. Need you to go easy okay? Gonna take you to bed and let you sleep through it. Can't have you collapsing on me" Carmen murmurs, wiping at the edge of your mouth, patting the sweat that stuck to your forehead.
You let Carmen carefully maneuver your body, one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back walking to the bedroom. Your wring dry and can barely keep your eyes open as Carmen placed you on the cool sheets you immediately moan at.
You hear the faint rustle of movement as Carmen brings in a paper bag. The clunk of bottles placed on the bedside table as you sing praise for the very short bit of relief you have before the next bout of nausea rolls in.
Carmen pads to the adjacent bathroom, the door opened so you can see the stream of light that illuminates him. Hes running a cloth under water, squeezing the excess and looking up to check on you every so often.
He looked so...domestic, like he hadn't come back from working at one of the most decorated restaurants in Chicago. Stripped of his shirt so he stood bare chested, golden curls pushed behind his ears, sweatpants hung low on his hips and the furrow of his eyebrows in concentration and worry.
Your eyes flutter shut as you thank the midnight sky for bringing him to you, for keeping him for you, this one good thing that was yours.
The skies answer by the sound of his voice listing off all the things you will not be doing in this stage of recovery. Sitting on the edge of the bed as he places the cool rag against your forehead, lips between teeth as he feels your temperature under his skin.
"Just bone broth, Gatorade and bread sticks for you, doll. And no, before you even think it, its not the garlic ones." Carmen tsks.
You were thinking it. He knew you too well, but when he kisses your eyelids and measures out careful tips of the Gatorade bottle, you don't mind it.
#neonovember#carmen berzatto#the bear#the bear fx#carmy the bear#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fic#carmen fluff#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen berzatto x sick!reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fanfic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#the bear fanfiction#neos requests#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#domestic!carmen berzatto#domestic!carmen#he is the cutest sweetest ever#carmen berzatto masterlist#i wanna be held by him okay?#carmy#richie jerimovich#tina marrero
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let me love on you
Rating: Explicit (5.4k)
Summary: carmy makes you come once with each: his fingers, his mouth, and then his cock. That's it. That's the summary
Tags: smut, porn with NO PLOT, established relationship, fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, soft dom carmy, multiple orgasms, slow sex, sprinkling of praise kink, general sappiness
a/n: HIII this is just filth⌠first time smut posting yay!!! Also fun fact this doc is called âPUSSY EATING CHAMPION!!!!!â hope you enjoy this indulgence!!
You swear to him that youâve nothing but innocent thoughts when he pulls you into his side. Heâs just so warm, heat thrumming under his skin. It wouldâve been impossible not to melt into him. Resisting is a futile effort. Besides, itâs not your fault that he has these gentle, long-lashed eyes, and when you stare at them, you have to kiss him. Thereâs little choice in the matter.
But maybeâjust maybeâyouâre the one that snakes your hands into his hair. Maybe youâre the one that curls your fingers and tugs, not too gentle, not too roughâjust right.Â
âMissed you today,â he whispers against your lips. Heâs starting to press you against the cushions, but you donât care. You like it when heâs on top of you.Â
âSaw you this morning,â you tease, but with the way his callused hands are up your shirt, it comes out breathless.Â
âYeah,â Carmy acknowledges, âI know. Still.â
âMm.â You canât help the smile on your face. âMissed you too,â you admit, and you feel him smile back against your lips.Â
âStop smiling so much, I canât kiss you,â he says through a laugh. Heâs pulled back, so you can see the grin still overtaking his face.Â
âYou first,â you challenge, and he shakes his head with another short chuckle, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You laugh, tooâyou canât help it, not after hearing his wonderful little laugh. You lean your head against his hair, freshly washed and soft. It smells like his shitty old spice shampoo youâve been begging for him to replace, but you donât mind the smell so much. Although today, it smells a little bit like a new conditioner of sorts.Â
Youâre about to ask him if heâs starting using a different conditioner, but then heâs pressing kisses to the side of your neck. Â
âWanted you so bad at work today,â he murmurs against your skin. His hands are roaming down now, playing with the edge of your waistband. âKept thinking about you like this.â
âLike what?â You breathe out. Itâs hard to think when heâs sucking hickeys into the tender skin of your throat.Â
âLike this,â he says again, and his left hand snakes down the front of your pants. You bite your bottom lip as you feel his fingertips grazing over your clothed pussy. âUnder me, letting me touch youâŚâ
âMustâve been distracting,â you say, trying to tease, but it comes out far too breathless to hold any weight.Â
âSo distracting,â he agrees. âThought about you so much I had to take care of it.â
âYouââ You imagine Carmy, locked in the bathroom fisting his cock, and arousal throbs in your gut. âFuck, really?â
âYeah,â he mumbles. His cheeks are red, and heat flares through you.Â
âTouch me,â you plead, suddenly filled with an urgent impatience.
âIâve got you, baby,â he whispers, dutiful and giving, and his fingers tug your underwear to the side. You let out what feels like a sigh of relief when you feel his fingers pressed against your folds.Â
He doesnât waste any time in rubbing your clit in the way he knows you like, a mix of slow circles and side to side. As he is with all things he cares about, he is efficient, excellent, and this is no exception. Your clit quickly hardens under his persistent touch. With each movement of his fingers, he drags little breaths out of you.Â
âGood girl, getting wet for me,â Carmy murmurs against the tender skin of your neck. Two fingers press against your entrance, dipping into the leaking wetness. He rubs the pads of his fingers there to coax you further open, to get you wetter.Â
You tuck your face into his neck and wrap your arms over his shoulders. You whimper at the sweet pleasure of his newly slicked fingers drag up your clit. Wetness quickly covers your clit, and it slides easily under his touch, making you shiver.
âCarmy,â you breathe. Youâre unraveling, and the both of you know it. His fingers are insistent, taking what it wants from you. God, how youâve thought about him like thisâhis broad, tattooed hands shoved down the front of your pants to tease your clit.Â
âYou like this?â He asks, a bit breathless. His breath is warm on your skin. âYou like me?â
âLike you so much,â you get out between moans, and between the noise he makes at that and the growing bulge youâre seated on, you suspect that he likes you, too.Â
âYou want my fingers?â His voice is low, close in your ear. His lips move from your neck to the side of your head, pressing little kisses there. Each kiss makes you shiver.Â
âI do, I want it,â you murmur, hips bucking when his fingers touch your clit in that way he knows makes you react.Â
âThen look at me,â he says, and itâs a command.
Reluctantly, you untuck your warm face from his neck. His blue are dark, his pupils blown with arousal, looking at you with a deep hunger. His gaze is strong, unwavering in the way it grabs you. He has always been rather beautiful, you think, but he especially is now with his curly hair falling into his face, expression hungry.
You feel his roaming fingers sliding between your folds before nudging at your entrance. Your entrance pulses once, needy, and he makes a low, pleased noise.
âKeep your eyes on me,â he says quietly, drinking in your expression, and he pushes his two fingers into you.
âA-Ahââ You bite back a moan, digging your teeth into your lower lip. Your eyes flicker away nervously, but return with Carmyâs soft words.
âEyes on me,â he commands, gentle yet insistent. You struggle to with the way his two wide fingers gradually stretch you, and with how they just keep going. You guess theyâre longer than yours.
âC-Carm,â you whimper, looking at his shakily through wet eyelashes. âPlease.â
He smiles at you then, a warm and tender thing. Itâs so full of affection it almost makes you want to look away, but you donât, basking in it.
âPerfect,â he murmurs, and he presses his lips against yours.Â
His mouth is urgent, almost as if heâs trying to map the feeling of your mouth with his. You reciprocate, rolling your tongue against his, and thatâs when you feel him go down to the last knuckle. His fingers are nestled into you now, and your hole sucks at him once, twice.
You moan quietly against his lips, your hole suckling at his fingers nestled deep inside you. He makes a delighted noise of pleasure back, curling his fingers in you and gently stroking your walls. The pads of his fingers drag slowly across your squishy, wet walls, feeling slowly.
But then his thumb is at your clit, rubbing it from side to side, and you feel as if youâre finally unraveling.
âGod, fuck,â you gasp against his lips, desperate for a chance to catch your breath, but you canât. Not with the way heâs thumbing at your clit and rutting his deep fingers in you.
âGood girl, taking me so well,â he pants against your lips. âYouâre so hot inside.â You let out a quiet, needy whine at his words, unable to say anything with the feeling of his fingers deep inside you.
Carmy keeps you here for a while, just fingering you and thumbing at your clit. Your composure is deteriorating quickly, unable to do anything but pant into his mouth. His fingers are so curious, so dutiful in the way he rubs you everywhere. Youâre oozing onto his fingers, dripping down them and smearing onto his palm.Â
âI wannâ come, Carm, please,â you beg, pulling back from his hungry kisses to hide your face again in his neck. âFeels good, s-so close.âÂ
âIâve got you, baby, I got you,â he whispers. âBut I wanna see your face when you cum.â
You clench around his fingers. Hard.
âO-Okay,â you stammer, reluctantly leaning back. His half-lidded eyes are taking you in, so hungry itâs making you want to look away, but another part of you drinks his expression in with delight.
âYou like the sound of that?â His fingers are moving again, and this time, theyâre quick, brutal. In and out, in and out, they thrust, and the way his fingers slide against your walls is making you tremble.
âYeah,â you moan, because thatâs all you can manage to get out.
âYouâre so fucking gorgeous,â Carmy says softly, like itâs a travesty, like itâs a gift from above. His other hand cradles your face, thumb stroking your cheek. Itâs an unbearably soft gesture, especially compared to the other one pounding your pussy. The repetitive sound of his insistent fingers is wet and slick. The volume of it would typically embarrass you, but so youâre close you donât even care.
âOh god, Iâm, Iâm gonnâ come,â you gasp, legs beginning to tremble. The pressure, the tension coiling in your stomach is so tight itâs almost scary. Your legs tremble around him.
âIâve got you,â he says again, as if sending your twinge of nerves. âIâm right here, so come on my fingers for me, okay?â
âFuck me, Carmy, IâIââ you moan, eyes momentarily squeezing shut as the heat crescendos, rising and rising and his fingers thrusting and rubbing and thrusting untilâ
âThatâs it, baby,â he whispers, and youâre gushing all over his fingers.Â
You shakily keep your blurry vision on him, tears beading in the corner of your eyes as you come. Your whole body seizes with the effort, your hole sucking tight at his fingers which stroke you through your clenching orgasm. He leaves no part of you untouched, clit throbbing under his circling thumb. Carmy is nothing but dedicated and thorough.
Through the midst of your peaking orgasm, a sudden surge of wetness gushes out of you.
âShit,â you gasp, a mixture of panic and arousal. You want to say something apologetic with the way youâre drenching his hand, but the pleasure is so immense you canât form the words.Â
Surprise flashes across his face, and his hand in your pants pauses. But the pause is brief, and then he keeps going, going, going.Â
âFuck, does it feel that good, beautiful?â Carmy murmurs. Heâs looking at you like he wants to eat you, and maybe he does. You wouldnât mind.Â
âMhm,â you affirm distantly, gradually riding the slowing waves of your pleasure. Youâre shameless rutting into his hand, rubbing your pussy raw against his skin. The squirting was intense but brief, now tapering off into little spurts in his palm.Â
He holds you there for a little while longer, stretching out your orgasm like a melty string of caramel. Youâre panting, eyes fluttered shut as you catch your breath. He keeps his two fingers inside you until you stop squeezing around him.Â
âSorry for the mess,â you mumble, exhausted from how hard you came. Youâre coming back to reality now, and youâre registering how wet the front of your jeans feel. âDid I get anything on the couch?â
âDonât apologize. It was hot,â Carmy replies, and his honesty makes your chest feel warm. He looks down, checking the couch cushions before continuing. âI donât see anything. I think your jeans got the worst of it.â
âNo, I think that would go to your hand,â you laugh, a bit strangled with embarrassment. He just grins, unabashed in his pleased, almost smug expression.Â
âGuess weâll see.â Thatâs when you feel him removing his fingers, sliding out of you and your pants. He wasnât wrongâyou definitely do see it.
Youâve spent more time than youâd like to admit staring at his hands. His handsome hands, littered with faint burns and scars from over the years. One of your favorite things about his hands, though, is his tattoos.
A tattoo of a knife stabbing a hand sits on the back of his right hand, and SOU is written on his first three fingers on his left hand. Those are the letters you see staring back at you, glistening under your fluids that coat his fingers.Â
âUm,â you start, but you donât say anything else. Your ears feel hot. Your throat feels dry. Carmyâs staring at his fingers, and theyâre shiny under the light. Very shiny. You can see thin rivulets trailing down his forearm, too. Fuck.
Without saying anything, his tongue drags up the fluid dripping down his arm.Â
He does this once, twice before licking up his palm. His tongue travels up his fingers before sucking them into his mouth, eyes fluttered shut like itâs honey. You canât look away, not even when he opens his eyes again, staring right back as you as he sucks your come off his fingers.Â
When he drags his fingers out with a quiet pop, theyâre completely clean.
âCan I take your pants off?â Carmy asks first before you can say anything. His voice is a little hoarse.Â
âPlease,â you whisper. You can feel yourself getting hot again.Â
You both struggle with your wet jeans, the fabric uncooperative, but he manages to get it off of you. Your underwear is completely soaked, and itâs almost laughable how easily he yanks it off. He throws it somewhere to be found later.
âMm, you look so fucking good,â Carmy mumbles, eyes glued to your pussy, and you swear you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. His praise sends heat up your chest and across your face, ending at the tips of your ears.Â
âYou gonnâ fuck me?â You ask, spreading your legs wide for him. He makes a noise of approval.Â
âYeah,â he says, âbut not yet.â
Youâre confused, but only for a moment. It clicks together when he gets off the couch and moves to the floor to sit. Then, he hooks his arms under your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. With your thighs bracketing his head, his hands grip them to spread them again.
âOh,â you whisper, realizing.Â
âAfter you come again on my mouth, Iâll fuck you,â Carmy promises. Seeing him between your legs like this is already reigniting your arousal. His curls are soft against your skin, a little ticklish even. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.Â
âBut what about you?â You ask. You bring your hand to his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. âI wanna make you feel good tooâŚâ
âIt makes me feel good to make you feel good, baby,â Carmy murmurs against your palm. âDonât worry about me. I canât wait to be inside you, but I need to taste your pussy first. Okay?âÂ
âYeah, okay,â you repeat quickly. The heat in your stomach is growing, squirming as his eyes stare at you.Â
âGood girl,â he praises lowly, licking his lips, and you have to hold back a groan. The things this man does to you.
âYou really made a mess of yourself, yâknow.â He drags his tongue up your inner thigh, licking up the slick that dripped down from earlier. âDrenched my fuckinâ hand.â
âI, I donât remember the last time Iâve, uh, squirted like that,â you mumble back, because you donât know what else to say. His tongue rolls over the junction where your inner thigh meets your crotch, and you canât think.Â
âWanna make you do it again,â he confesses like a dark secret. Sucks a mark on the soft inside of your thigh. âThink you could squirt on my cock?â
âFuck, I donât know,â you groan, flustered by his words. He wonât stop kissing you down there. âM-Maybe?â
âI wanna see it, not just feel it.â You feel his hot breath ghost over your pussy, and you look down at him to see his eyes glued to it. âNeed to see your pussy come next time, see how wet it can get.â
âCarmy, oh my god,â you groan, embarrassment white hot on your cheeks. âSh, shut upâŚâ
âI can do that,â he murmurs, devilish, and he sucks your cunt into his mouth.
âAh,â you gasp, sounding like the air got punched out of you. The sight of his lips molded to the curve of your pussy is way too much, so much that you have to look away. Itâs enough to feel the wet heat of his mouth enveloping you.Â
He sucks, and then licks you as he keeps you in his mouth. You throw your head back, panting as his tongue weaves between your folds, pulling the remnants of your previous orgasm into his mouth. Heâs also making these little pleased noises, like heâs delighted with the way you taste.Â
He pulls back, mouth separating from your cunt with a wet noise. Pants over your pussy as you feel his fingers part your folds. Goes back in, nose buried in your pussy as his tongue buries itself in your hole.Â
âCame so much for me,â he pants, retreating for just a second before going back in. His tongue is shameless, stubborn in the way it pushes into your hole. Itâs times like this you remember how strangely long his tongue is. It swirls at your rim, pulling in and out to drag your slick out of you.Â
âYouâre gonnâ kill me, Carm,â you whine, a little delirious with how his tongue feels inside of you. He doesnât quite respond, just making a low noise of approval you can feel against your pussy.Â
One way to get him to shut up is to get him between your legs. He acts starved when he gets like this, focused on nothing else except your pussy like a goddamn animal. Youâve never had anyone go down on you like he does. He takes and takes and takes, licking endlessly into you.Â
Thereâs a part of you that notes the feeling of wetness dripping out of you, but youâre not sure if itâs come or spit. Probably both, but you quickly forget about it. Carmy sucks once on your hole, an incredibly loud and messy noise, and does it again when he hears you whine.
âYou taste so fucking good baby, you got no idea,â Carmy moans, sounding almost dizzy. Heâs come up for air, hot breath ghosting over the skin of your thighs. You feel a little dizzy too, but in a different way. âYou should see yourself. God.â He drags a finger through your thick wetness.Â
âI should be the one saying that,â you argue breathily, an incredibly strangled sound. His pretty pink lips are glossed heavily with slick. It doesnât just coat his mouth, instead also smeared on nearly the entire lower half of his face. Messy eater, you think hazily to yourself, the thought so potent you feel yourself throb.Â
Carmy doesnât respond, just smiles knowingly and gets back to work.Â
He keeps you on the edge for a while, purposefully avoiding your clit to lap at you, slurp at your entrance. He goes from sealing his mouth where youâre leaking to languidly rolling his tongue against your pussy, squishing your folds under it. Youâre really, really not sure how much more you can take of this. You swear youâre about to explode, between the wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy or his little, pleased moans. He canât keep doing this, keeping you right at the edge like thisâ
Suddenly, his lips wrap gently around your swollen clit, and then, he sucks.
You canât really register the noise that rips itself from your throat, but you do grip his hair with a desperate urgency, all in a plea to keep him there. He lets out a sharp moan when your fingers curl into his hair, and it vibrates deliciously around your clit.Â
âPlease, please,â you beg, even though his mouth remains at your clit, sucking dutifully. Youâre not sure what youâre exactly asking for, but you know you need him.Â
Carmyâs face is pressed deep into your pussy. With his lips sucking at the base of your clit, your folds bracket his chin. Youâre throbbing, and you wonder if he can feel it. Youâre close, very close.Â
He definitely knows this, because he sucks your clit in a brutal, quick rhythm, and youâre done for.
Thereâs the sound of someone crying, and it takes a second too long for you to realize that thatâs coming out of your mouth. Tears bead at the corner of your eyes, squeezed shut at the force of your orgasm. When Carmy feels you throb in his mouth, the suction grows gentle. He pulls back, but only for a second. He guides you, and he keeps your clit suckled carefully between his lips.Â
Liquid drips out of you again, trailing out of your hole. With Carmyâs face still shoved into you pussy like this, it dribbles down his chin, down the front of his shirt. This time, you donât care, fists tight in his hair to keep him there. As your grip tightens, you distantly register Carmy sharply moaning, almost as if heâs coming himself. You didnât think you saw him touching himself, but maybe he was, with the way he sounds.Â
You lay there with your eyes closed a little bit, drifting with the feeling. Carmyâs finally peeled his mouth off of you, leaving you to throb and drip in the open air. He always does this to you, that bastard. Wrings you out, sucks your soul out of your pussy and leaves you withered on the sheets. Heâs always had an appetite, to say the least.Â
When you open your eyes and look down, you see Carmy resting his cheek on your inner thigh. He meets your gaze, and his cheeks have a beautiful flush to them.Â
âI saw it, this time,â he says.Â
âHuh?â You react, instinctively, and then you remember. The sight of fluid dripping off Carmyâs chin, his tank top so drenched its transparent on his chestâit makes you realize. It must show in your face, because Carmyâs grinning, a small, yet proud thing. His lips are even more glossy than before. âStop that,â you protest, but thereâs no heat behind it. Youâre too tired.Â
âStop what?â He responds, playful. Heâs still smiling, though. He knows, so you roll your eyes.Â
âWere you touching yourself?â You ask instead.
âNo,â he admits, and your eyebrows raise. âGot close, though.âÂ
âMm.â Wow, you think. The thought of him almost coming, completely untouched, gasping against your spasming cuntâit renders you speechless. âLet me see you,â you say, finally. âI need a minute. ButâŚin the mean timeâŚâ
And because heâs Carmy, of course he gets a little embarrassed. You recognize it in the way he looks to the side, at you, and then to the side again before unbuttoning his jeans.Â
If you hadnât just came so hard you saw the pearly gates, the sight of him wouldâve gotten you wet. Not to say that you donât still enjoy it, though. As Carmy shimmies out of his jeans, you zone in on the wet spot on the front of his boxers. His boxers are so tented it looks painful.Â
Well, maybe not quite as painful as how hard he is.Â
Itâs as if you had him in your mouth. His tip is flushed, reddened by nothing except eating you out. Itâs dribbling with pre-come. You think youâre drooling. Youâve seen longer cocks, but you havenât seen any quite as thick. His cock is heavy, and your gaze traces the vein on the underside of it.Â
âI want you,â you say, before he can protest. He maintains this bad habit of dealing with his arousal himself after heâs wrung you out. You understand whyâhe canât bear to ask much of you, not when he gets self-conscious. But, shit, you want him. You always want him, even if he doesnât want himself.Â
âYouâre sure?â he asks, positioning himself above you. Heâs so careful, even when you can hear the thinly-veiled arousal just behind it.Â
âIâll need a minute or two,â you elaborate, âbut. Yeah.â You smile at him then, and although you mean for it to be more sweet, itâs definitely more salacious. âI want you to fuck me,â you whisper, spreading your legs for him. You snake a hand down to your pussy and spread your lips wide. You clench your hole, too, because you know heâs looking.Â
Carmy doesnât respond for a moment. His eyes are elsewhere, and it makes your smile widen.Â
âGoddamn,â he mutters, mostly to himself. His eyes look back up towards you, blue reflected against brown. âYouâre justâŚâ
âJust what?â You run your tongue over your lips.Â
âYouâre way too fuckinâ hot,â he mumbles, like itâs sacrilege. He positions himself over you then, cock resting against the warmth of your pussy. He feels heavy against you and is equally as hot. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, soaking you in. âShitâŚâ
âNot yet,â you remind him in a whisper. His eyes flutter open again, half-lidded. âKiss me for a bit instead?â
You barely even had to ask.Â
Because heâs so lovely, he kisses you. His lips are hot and wet from eating you out, and you taste yourself on him. Your head is distant after coming viciously twice in a row, and you ride the wave of Carmyâs tongue in your mouth, slow and sweet. And all the while, his hard cock rests heavy against the folds of your hot pussy. It feels like a dream.
You can tell the arousal is getting to his head. Rather, itâs already gotten to his head. His kisses started sweet, slow, but heâs getting hungrier, unable to resist.Â
âIâm not gonna last,â he admits, panting against your lips. You pull back to stare into his dark eyes, pupils blown with arousal.Â
âThatâs okay, I just wanna make you feel good.â You laugh breathlessly. You love seeing him all worked up like this. âFuck me, Carmy⌠Iâm ready for you.â
âWhen you say it like thatâŚâ Carmyâs amused smile poorly veils his arousal.Â
He rubs his flushed head at your sensitive clit, grinding on it, tapping it. You keen, thighs twitching from the little jolts of pleasure. Then he drags himself down, tip of his cock nestled as your entrance, and he pushes in.Â
The both of you let out a shaky exhale when the head pops in. Carmyâs panting into the crook of your neck, breaths hot and heavy.Â
âTakinâ me so well,â he murmurs. âFuckinâ...shitâŚâ He pushes in further, dragging slowly along your tight, wet walls.Â
âCarmy,â you moan sweetly, arms linked around his neck to keep him close. âYou feel so good inside meâŚâ You let out a muffled moan into his shoulder when he bottoms out. He fills you up just right, the perfect amount of stretchâŚ
âDirty girl, fuckinâ squeezing around me like thisâŚâ Heâs stopped moving, stilling in your contracting pussy. Thereâs beads of sweat in his hairline. âFffuckâŚâ
âDonât you wanna come?â You whisper, and you grind down on his cock, making him moan into your neck. You trail a hand down to trace your stretched lips molded to the shape of his cock. Wetness gathers on your fingertips, and you drag it up to your exposed clit. Itâs all so slippery, nothing left untouched.
âNot yetâŚI wanna at least fuck you a little.â This makes the both of you laugh.Â
âJust use me, Carm,â you plead. âHowever you want.â
This makes Carmy untuck his face from your neck. His expression is nigh indescribable, a mix of animalistic, horny, and eager.Â
âHowever I want?â He echoes back, quietly.Â
âHowever you want,â you repeat, and warmth swells in your gut. As if you couldnât be more turned on than you already are.Â
Youâre not sure what you expect from him after that. Part of you expects him to start ramming into you, skin slapping hard against skin. To fuck you so hard that you can barely breathe. To grab at your hips to slam you back down when he fucks forward. ItâŚwouldnât be the first time.Â
So, you admit that when he does the opposite, youâre a bit surprised.Â
He drags his cock out slowly, so slowly. Itâs almost torture, the way heâs pulling back inch by inch. It forces you to feel every ridge of his cock, every vein and curve against the length of your walls. Your eyes flutter shut, heat surging through you in a new way.Â
âOh my god,â you mumble under your breath. His head is just about to pop out when he pushes back in again, slowlyâŚ
âYouâre perfect,â Carmy moans. âFuck, youâre so goodâŚâ His cock resheathes itself in you gradually. The slowness of it forces you to really feel how he carefully fills you up to the brim, really feeling the shape of his swollen head inside of youâŚ
After heâs done this two more times, thatâs when you realize exactly what heâs doing.Â
Heâs luxuriating in the feeling of you, taking in everything you can give him. Heâs indulging in you like a sin. Heâs taking his time to relish in every sensation, every little feeling, every little part of you that he loves. Thereâs no rush to orgasm, no hurry to finish, only taking the time to let the pleasure permeate fully through the both of you.
Emotion swells in your chest.Â
âI love you, Carmy,â you moan all of a sudden. This slow fucking has you feeling a whole new type of crazy. Youâve never felt his cock like this before.Â
âBaby,â he whispers. âI love you so much.â Fuck, heâs pushing in again. You just canât catch a break.Â
âKiss me,â you whimper, and he obliges immediately.Â
Although you wanted to kiss him, youâre having a time of it. With this slow fucking, the pleasureâs creeping up on you, and you canât stop moaning against his lips. He patiently kisses you through it, although it helps that heâs somewhat the same.Â
âIâm close,â Carmy moans, verging on a whine. âCanât take much moreâŚâ
âI, I canât either,â you stutter. The sneaking pleasure is swelling inside of you like a balloon, straining, about to burst. His even thrusts have become hastier, a bit jagged, but still slow.Â
âWanna feel you come on my cock,â he pleads. Heâs pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, your neck. âThen Iâll come inside youâŚplease, babyâŚâ
His fingers are messily rubbing your slippery clit from side to side, and thatâs all that it takes for you to come.Â
âIâIâoh my godââ You let out a high-pitched, wrecked noise as you come tight around his cock, pussy pulsing. Sharp pleasure tightens your body like a bow. You throw your head back, mouth open in a silent scream. He slowly fucks your contracting pussy through it, but not for long.Â
âFuckingâshitââ Carmy moans beautifully as he comes, face tucked into your neck. His ragged moans are nestled right next to your ear, letting you hear every little breath and whine he fails to swallow. You feel him pulse inside you, filling youâŚ
After three destructive orgasms, youâre on the verge of falling asleep on the couch. It doesnât matter that Carmyâs softened cock is still inside of you, either. Youâre exhausted.
âBaby,â Carmy murmurs. Heâs spooning you, holding you in his arms. He kisses the side of your face, lips dragging tiredly. âWe gotta get up.â
âMmgh,â you grunt back. Youâve both been cuddling on the couch for a while now, but you still donât wanna get up.Â
âBaby,â he tries again, amusement coloring his voice.Â
âHow about you come three times and see how you feel after that,â you mumble, and that gets a laugh out of him.Â
âThatâs fair.â He moves carefully, gently slipping of you. The change in pressure makes you sigh, especially feeling him drip out of you. âCâmon. Iâll carry you to the bathroom.â
âOkay,â you mumble, begrudgingly moving to sit up. He scoops you, one hand behind your back and the other tucked behind your knees. The angle makes his cum drip out of you more. You squeeze your hand between your legs, sealing your hand against your pussy.Â
âMaybe next time weâll make it four,â he teases, and you slap a hand against his chest, making him smile mischievously.
âMaybe next time Iâll wreck you instead,â you say, leaning your head against his chest. You hear his low laugh right against your ear, and you smile.Â
I love him, you think again, and you close your eyes.Â
#Carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#Carmen berzatto x reader#the bear#the bear fx#carmy berzatto x you#Carmen berzatto x you#the bear fanfiction#the bear Hulu#carmy x reader#my writing#my fics#carmy#reader#my smut
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Do not repost my works || Do not translate my works without asking || I do not consent to my work being used to train any AI machines/models
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Michael Berzatto
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#the bear#the bear fx#the bear x reader#the bear fx x reader#micheal berzatto#michael berzatto x reader#mikey berzatto#mikey berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#richie jerimovich#richie jerimovich x reader#sydney adamu#sydney adamu x reader#chef Luca#the bear Luca#chef luca x reader#the bear Luca x reader#berzatto sibling!reader
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carmen 'carmy' berzatto masterlist
Thee Carmy x Reader 'Make My Heart Surrender' Universe (In Chronological Order):
comfort & chaos (prequel to make my heart surrender)
a series of vignettes: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you. (completed)
october 2019 | covid & carbonara | heat waves | 2/22/22** | called you again | home**
the phone call (blurb - the phone call that gets reader to chicago in the first place)
make my heart surrender
after quitting your job at the restaurant you both used to work at, carmy asks you to come in and work with his pastry chef at his new spot, the bear. only, the longer you stick around, it becomes clear that you have unfinished business. will one week in chicago change your life, and his, forever? (completed)
tuesday | wednesday | thursday | friday (**18+ for smut) | saturday/sunday | monday | tuesday, again | the playlist
home (final chapter from comfort & chaos - **smut)
try a little tenderness (fluff & angst blurb)
cigarettes & coffee (fluffy blurb)
strawberries & cigarettes (fluffy blurb)
j is for james beard... and for jealousy (**smut oneshot | 18+ only)
your past and mine are parallel lines (fluff oneshot)
pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list (fluff blurb)
bad moon rising (what if/angst-shot -- guest starring mikey berzatto)
sister-in-law (fluff oneshot -- guest starring natalie berzatto)
still into you (sequel to make my heart surrender)
you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (completed)
thursday | **bonus smut scene | friday | saturday | sunday | it's perfect, chef (**bonus smut scene)
don't want to walk alone
the long awaited wedding fic for carmy x reader in the make my heart surrender universe. this six part series chronicles the wedding planning, your (not) bachelorette party, the wedding, and the honeymoon as you build a life with your husband-to-be. (completed)
june/july | august | september | the honeymoon pt 1 | the honeymoon pt 2 | epilogue: november
granola blurb
carmy as your baby daddy
a social media au & headcanon series detailing your first pregnancy with carmy. created for the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone work. this has been created in collaboration with @carmensberzattos & @allthefandomstogether , the graphic goddess. (completed)
part one | part two | part three | part four | give you my wild, give you a child (**smut-shot) | part five | part six | part seven
the social media au
scenes from the relationship & this story depicted as social media posts. won't always align with my other social media/moodboards.
part one | part two: first year of dating | part three |
extras/moodboards/headcanons/imagines:
your life as a pastry chef in chicago while dating carmy (moodboard & headcanon)
meeting mikey in another lifetime (headcanon)
pov: you're marrying carmen berzatto (moodboard)
honeymoon lingerie moodboard
christmas with carmy moodboard & blurb
The Bear: Unrelated to Make My Heart Surrender:
(nothing here YET but working on it)
so my darling | sydney adamu x male!chef oc
jealous!carmy & jealous!luca headcanon
stargazing with marcus brooks (blurb)
sneaking around with carmy (blurb)
#nolita fairytale's masterlist#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto#carmy x oc#the bear hulu#the bear fx#jeremy allen white#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto headcanon#the bear headcanon#carmy berzatto imagines#carmy berzatto fluff#comfort and chaos#still into you#make my heart surrender#carmen berzatto smut#carmy smut#carmy berzatto smut
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CINNAMON SUGAR â CARMEN BERZATTO
summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.
length 2k
contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice
Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesnât block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. Itâs late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.
He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when youâre asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.
You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. ââŚBear?â
âYeah, âs me, baby.â Even at a whisper, he thinks heâs too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.
A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hoursâ rest. âYou coming to bed soon?â
âAlmost,â he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks heâs worthy of. âNeeda take a shower first, alright? But Iâll be right back.âÂ
He couldâve done that much by nowâcouldâve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing youâbut truthfully, waiting any longer wouldâve driven him mad. He wouldâve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he couldâve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.
âOkay,â you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.
He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. Thereâs a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the dayâs stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampooâthe one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that heâs been purchasing ever since to keep you happyâbefore cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better itâd feel, how much more relief heâd get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. Youâve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and youâre waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, heâll do it.
He hops out of the water like itâs acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, heâll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing moreâyouâll keep him warm enough under the blankets.
Itâs only thenâwhen he peels back those final layersâthat he realizes heâs been smiling the whole time.
Once heâs settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, youâre turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there.Â
âHey,â he coos, âYâdonât have to move fâme, yeah? Just sleep, baby.â Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder.Â
And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. â âS more comfy this way, Carm.â You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. âYou smell good, too.â
He canât even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesnât run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. â âS that shampoo you got me a while agoâŚSometime this weekââ he yawns, and if he werenât dying to hear your voice a few more times, heâd be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easilyâ âSometime this week we can go tâthe store, you can pick out another body wash fâme to try, too.â
âMm, Iâd like that.â You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. âHow was it today?â The restaurant. His headaches. Richieâs mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.
âWas alright,â he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. âReal busy, so I didnât get to leave âtill late, âm sorry.â
â âS alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.â You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. âI was gonna ask you to bring something home, but itâs a weekend, so I didnât wanna bother you in a rush.â
âWhatâd you want?â
From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds heâs ever heard. âI just wanted some fries, honestlyâŚdidnât feel like going out.â
âHeh,â he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceilingâas if looking at you would make the moment disappear. âI wouldâve picked âem up for you, âr at least had Fak get âem to you.â
You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answerâs a bit softer. âUh-uh, I like them better when you make âem.â
âYeah? âve I been pampering you too much?â He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but itâs all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work heâs put inâall the love he has for youâmakes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person heâs sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any criticâs review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and thatâs enough.
âOf course you have,â you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. âYouâre always so sweet to me, Bearââ one more quick peck just beneath his earâ âlove when you cook for me.â
He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he canât always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: âYâknow, uhâŚMarcusâs been playing around with recipesâŚâ
He feels you smile against his chest, knowing whatâs to come. âYeah?â
âMhm, anâ Iâd never let âim serve âem, âcause, yâknowâŚâ He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. âThey donât fit the menuâŚbut uh, he made theseâŚthese rolls todayâŚâ
âMhm? âM listeningâŚâ
Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. âI think youâd like âem, he had some classic cinnamon, ânâŚa blueberry lemon goinââŚâ
âThat sounds really good,â you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.
âI know,â he drawls, and heâs a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, âWhich is why I said Iâd let âim fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.â
âDid you really?â The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call.Â
He figures thatâs why heâs so drawn to youâall the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. â âF course, babyâŚâÂ
It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries itâll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, heâd stop breathing before pulling your hand away. Itâs soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when youâre not around.
âI broughtâŚâ He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. âI brought you some of the cinnamon rollsâŚSugar liked âemâŚtheyâre on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'âŚâ Heâs not sure whether itâs your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed heâs ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.
âThank you, my love,â slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline.Â
And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over himâat least part of him does, the part thatâs still awakeâbecause the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle thereâs a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesnât warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.
Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, youâll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.
And heâll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmy berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto imagines#carmen berzatto imagine#the bear#carmy the bear#the bear fx#the bear x reader#the bear season 2
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making the bed |carmen berzatto x reader| part one
prompt: carmen's stressed. food critics, a newborn baby, balancing work life and married life and now dad life; he's bound to break, everyone knows it. but no one ever thought he'd lash out on you.
or, part one of the devastation fic. based off this ask from the other day. two more parts to come.
contains: mega angst. mega angst, with no resolution in this part. hurt, no comfort (in this chapter, will be later in part 3). mean!carmen, very mean. mom!reader x dad!carmen with newborn teddy. fighting, language, carmen says mean stuff he doesn't mean. past mentions of trauma, family trauma, mikey mentioned. very angsty and a little heavy, please read at your own discretion. word count- 3.5k+.
"Are you ok?"
Carmen now understood why that phrase used to send Donna into such a blind rage, lips pursing and jaw clenching more and more every time he heard it. First at work, then with you, it felt never ending.
It was beginning to feel like critic season with how many were coming in, snooty and demanding to be impressed. It couldn't have come at a worst time, right in the middle of busy season with the start of the holidays. Days at The Bear were filled with frantic panic, running around, making sure everything was perfect, accounted for, and Carmen always had the sinking feeling it wasn't- that he'd forgotten something, messed something up.Â
It wasn't rare for him to work himself up like this, a normal that you always warned him about, but he'd always had a solitude. As long as he'd known you, he'd had a place to go, to unwind, to let himself rest and reset with you. And he still did, it was just shared now with a newborn.
Dorothea Michelle. Teddy, for short. The light of his life, yours too. Nearly two months old with a set of lungs that sounded much louder, much more developed than that. Nights were long, sleepless, spent trying to lull Teddy back to sleep, awake even if he wasn't up with her. Carmen couldn't allow himself the selfishness to relax, to rewind, to "take it easy" like everyone told him to. At work, he was the boss; at home, he was a dad.
"Fuck, fuck," Carmen's sleepy stare was broken by a lick of bubbling heat, the lamb's roux popping with the high heat, splashing all over Carmen's chef whites.
"Jeff, c'mon," Tina clicked, shaking her head, moving the pan to lower heat. "What're you doin'?"
Carmen grit his teeth, snatching a rag off the stainless steel counter tops, scrubbing the burgundy stain, huffing when it only spread the stain.
"What happened?" Sydney turned, looking from the burnt sauce to Carmen's stained chef shirt. "Oh,"
"Do we have a spare coat?" Carmen huffed, throwing the rag down with a firm smack against the counter.
"I don't think so, Carm." Sydney shook her head. "You took the last ones home with you two days ago. The wine-"
"-I know, Chef, I know." Carmen snapped, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I-I can't fuckin' serve the critics lookin' like this. With shit all over me- fuck."
"Hey, easy, easy," Richie turned the corner, his hands held up. "What's goin' on?"
"Jeff got sauce over him. He doesn't have any clean clothes." Tina muttered, irritated that she had to fix his mess, more irritated that he wasn't taking care of himself. You have a baby, Jeff, you need to rest and take some time, she'd told him. Carmen only waved her off.
"Okay, okay, hey, that's no problem." Richie's voice raised, lifting over Carmen's. "You go home and change, get your spare, check on my beautiful goddaughter, and then come back with your A game. Yes?"
Carmen didn't even humor him with a snarky remark, yanking his coat off and stomping towards the office to grab his things. Richie and Tina looked at each other, shaking their head gently.
"Kids runnin' thin, T." Richie muttered with a sigh. "He's gonna break. It's gonna be bad."
"Yeah, he is. Gonna wear himself out before then." Tina shook her head. "Jeff needs a vacation." They both jumped at the slamming of the backdoor, Carmen's angry exit shaking the foundation.
"Needs to be fuckin' medicated. Fuckin' lunatic." Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes at Carmen's dramatics.
The drive home was filled with silence, Carmen's iron grip on the wheel, tearing through the traffic towards the house- his house, his home.Â
Home, but it didn't provide the same comfort that it usually did. Carmen's shoulders still stayed tense, buzzing with rage, not dissipating when he thought of you, or of Teddy, knowing you'd both be there, excited to see him.Â
You jumped at the sound of the car door slamming, peeking out the window to see Carmen's parked next to yours, furiously stomping up the front steps. You frowned, grabbing the baby monitor, walking towards the front door.
Carmen nearly hit you with how fiercely he flung the door open. "Woah," You reached for the door, stopping it before he could flick it shut. "Carm, don't slam it. Teddy's asleep. I just got her down." You frowned at him, shutting it slowly.
Carmen looked at you but didn't speak, looking through you with a rage that had your spine tingling before he finally broke his gaze, stomping towards the laundry room. "Carm? Whatâre you doing home? Donât you have dinner soon?" You hesitated slightly, lingering in the doorway with an uncertainty you hadnât felt with Carmen before.Â
Carmen didnât answer, his jaw still ground tight while he rummaged through the clean clothes, carelessly unfolding and shifting the folded clothes.
"Carmen," You said more firmly, caching his gaze. He didn't speak still, just stared at you- through you. "Are you ok?" You lifted a brow, features softening in worry.
Carmen paused, eyes closing, shoulders tensing in agitation. Are you ok? His ears rang, a familiar rage that he hadn't felt in years bubbling up deep in his chest. Frustrated and blinding and rampant, heat rushing through his veins, pulling himself further and further from reality into someplace different- someplace darker in his mind.Â
"What's wrong?" You pressed, he could barely hear it, ears ringing at your question. "Did something happen? Did the critic come-"
"-Where's my chef whites?" Carmen barked, cutting you off, his chest tightening more and more with every heavy heave of his chest. You flinched at his tone.
"Uh, I-I haven't seen the whites. I washed your white tee-"
â-You what? Y-You what?â Carmen spat, eye widening with a wild, raged glint in his eye. Your stomach flipped and fell with fear, stepping back instinctively.Â
âI-I washed your tee, Carm, thatâs all that you left in the laundry basket-âÂ
"-Are you fucking kidding me?" Carmen boomed, his head spinning, body buzzing with rage. Your breath hitched, frozen in fear at the anger in his tone, the roar of his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing through your ears in a painful drum.Â
Carmen moved, snatching the dirty clothes basket, dumping it into the ground with a shake until the dirty chef coat fell on top. He gripped the basket, flinging it across the room with a hard throw. The final push to his bad mood that sent him right over the edge, crashing into a pit of blinding fury, aggravation, breaking him from the inside out.
"Fuck!" Carmen roared, his voice shaking the walls, your breath leaving your lungs in a trembling exhale of fear. âFuck, fuck, fuck! This is- This is- Are you fuckinâ kiddinâ me?âÂ
You tensed in shock, gripping the baby monitor in fear, maybe surprise, as it started to buzz to life with Teddy's startled whimpers. Her small cries pulled you out of your frozen state, something deeper than fear replacing the ache in your stomach.Â
"Carmen-" You gaped, voice wobbling with uncertainty, taking slow shuffled steps towards the stairs. âCarmen, calm-calm down. Ok? Calm down.âÂ
âCalm down? You want me to fuckinâ calm down?â Carmen sneered, an angry red flush blossoming in splotchy deep hues up his neck, towards his cheeks. âYou donât do shit, nothinâ that I fuckinâ ask for! Just sit around all fuckinâ day an-and Iâm supposed to calm down?âÂ
âCarmen,â Your voice wobbled, throat tight with tears, hurt and fear strangling your words. âI-You didnât ask me to wash them. I-I didnât know. They werenât in the hamper-âÂ
â-I shouldnât have to ask you to wash them!â Carmen roared, eyes so wide you thought they might pop right out of his head, neck vein protruding on exemplifying his rage. âYou know what Iâm going through! You know how much fuckinâ stress Iâm under! I go to that-that shit hole, an-and work my fuckinâ ass off so you donât have to! Then I come home, and I-I canât even get a second of peace!âÂ
âStop,â You hiss, finally regaining your composure, his words fully sinking into you now, feeling the full effect of them. âI-I just had a baby. Iâm still on maternity leave taking care of a baby- our baby, and Iâm tired too. But Iâm not yelling at you-âÂ
â-Oh, right. Right.â Carmen laughs sarcastically, humorless as he runs his hand down his face. It felt mocking, left you feeling small and too vulnerable for your liking. âBecause in between your napping an-and feeding, you couldnât stick a fucking jacket in the wash, right? Youâre so busy.â Â
âWhat is wrong with you?â You snap, hoping he canât hear the tears in your voice, the way your voice shakes with emotion.Â
âWhatâs wrong with me? Whatâs wrong with me?â Carmen scoffs, throwing his hands out. âI get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then I come home so I can go back and work my ass off some more, and-and you canât do one simple fuckinâ thing? You canât help me out? And then you wanna know whatâs wrong with me? When you sit on your ass all fuckinâ day-âÂ
Teddyâs piercing wail pulls you out of your shocked trance, nose and throat burning with hurt filled tears you refuse to shed. Instead, you turn, climbing the stairs on shaky legs, the sound of Teddyâs cries growing louder and louder. Anchovy watches you from the top of the stairs, sensing the tension, your upset, sliding against your leg as if to comfort you.Â
Carmen scoffs, hands buzzing and trembling with rage, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder with each of your footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He can barely hear Teddyâs sobs, hands threading through his hair, pulling at his scalp. He sees you walk towards the bedroom, quickly, hugging Teddy to your chest.Â
âOh, donât go fuckinâ do it now!â Carmen roared, your ignoring him only infuriating him further. âIt wonât be ready in time now. Iâll just look like a fuckinâ idiot for the critic tonight! Not that you care! Why would you, huh? I-I mean just our livelihood, just our fuckinâ income!âÂ
You swallowed back your tears, head tilting towards the ceiling, hands shaking with every shove of your things into the overnight bag. Just enough to get you through the night, the next day. A few essentials, Teddyâs spare onesies, a charger, your wallet- you stopped mid-shove of your items into the weekender bag, the sunâs rays catching in your wedding ring. Your heart fell, more and more, you werenât sure how that was even possible.Â
Carmenâs furious voice was still booming from downstairs, ringing and shaking in his furious fit. Richie and Sugar both warned you about Carmenâs tantrums, brought them up to embarrass him, tease him about it until he was red faced and hissing hushed threats at them. You never, never in your wildest dreams thought youâd be on the receiving end of one.Â
You jumped, another slam of something Carmen had thrown, maybe hit in a fit of rage, causing Teddy to wail louder, Anchovy skittering nervously away. Tears leaked out of your eyes, twisting the ring off your finger, setting it on Carmenâs bedside table. Pulling the carrier out of the closet, Anchovy got in much easier than usual, which you were thankful for.Â
Carmen was gripping the marble of the countertop when he heard you again, walking from the bottom of the stairs, quick steps towards the door to the garage, Teddyâs voice nearly hoarse from her crying. You kept your head high, tunnel-visioned towards your car, ignoring his heavy breathing and frantic pacing.Â
âWha-What are you doinâ?â Carmenâs voice was softer now, still with a jagged edge that was cutting and harsh. The car door opened, the baby carrier hooked into the car seat.Â
âHey, wha- what are you- whereâre you goinâ? Whatâre you doinâ?â Carmenâs heart dropped in a damning rush of hour, stumbling on heavy legs towards the garage. You ignored him, shushing Teddy gently, running a calming hand over her wet cheek, trying to coax her paci into her mouth.Â
âBaby, no-no, no. Hey, no, I-I- What-â Carmenâs chest felt tight, mind numbing and racing, stuttering nervously. You reached for your bag, his hand reaching to grab the strap. âWhe-Whereâre you-â
â-Donât touch me.â You hissed, teeth bared, eyes shining with tears. Carmen flinched, pulling his hand back like heâd touched a hot stove. âDonât you dare fucking touch me.â You sneered, pinning him with a watery glare that had his stomach turning in sickening fear.Â
âBaby, hey, w-wait-Câmon, d-donât-You donât, you donât need to do this, ok? I-Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry.â Carmen choked out the words, frantic and unsure, his hands shaking when they ghosted over you back just for a moment. Wanting to touch you, to hold you, to grab you and keep you from leaving, but too scared to. Instead, he grabbed the car door you flung open, holding it when you tried to yank it closed.Â
âLet go.â You hissed, sniffling back wet, snotty tears of fury and hurt.Â
âPlease, donât-do-donât do this. Please, baby, I-Iâm sorry.â Carmen begged, blue eyes deepening with the burning red hues of tears, bloodshot and lashes wet. âDonât-Donât do this-âÂ
â-I didnât do this.â You sneered, leaving Carmen flinching at your words. âDonât you dare try to say this was me. After how you just talked to me? The shit you said to me in there? You think Iâm going to stay?â Your voice cracked with emotion, lips pressing together to keep a cry in.Â
âNo, no, no, no, no, baby, please. Please, ju-just come inside. Come inside, please? Please, donât-âÂ
âYou donât get to talk to me like that. To say that kinda stuff to me. That hurt, Carmen. That was mean.â You glared at him, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. âI donât care if youâre stressed. I donât care whatâs going on- nothing, and I mean nothing, warrants you talking to me like that. Just because you fucked up, because you forgot to ask me to do it, because youâre stressed out- I donât care what it is. You donât talk to me like that, say those things when Iâve been home all day taking care of my ch- our child.â You nod back towards the sniffling baby, whimpering and crying half heartedly, her little eyelids drooping with sleep that was interrupted.Â
Carmen felt sick, his knees tightening in fear, he was sure they might give out, that he might fall to the ground right there. Looking at the tiny baby, lip jutted and shaking in the mirror hooked on the back of the seat, then back at you, eyes red-rimmed and glaring at him with a hurt filled anger.Â
âDonât-â Carmenâs chest shook, a white-knuckled grip on the door.Â
Your own hand curled around the doorâs inner handle, yanking it away from him. âMove,â You hissed, pulling again.Â
Carmen wasnât sure why he let it go, why he let you shut it, locking the door in case he tried to open it again. Why he let you pull out of the driveway, why he didnât stop you, why he didnât run after you, only taking soft shuffles down the drive like a zombie as you drove away. Standing in the drive, Carmen swallowed down the spit that pooled in his mouth, stomach churning, sure he was going to be sick.Â
He managed to trudge back to the garage, mind racing and far away, the ringing in his ears dulling but still deafening. It felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare, a hallucinating trance that felt like a sick, sick dream- Carmen was hoping it was. That heâd wake up and find you next to him asleep. That he could hug you, pull you into him, nose buried in your neck, still warm from your slumber.Â
As the sun began to sink low into the sky, minutes turning into hours that Carmen sat motionless in the garage, staring in a trancelike state, he realized that this wasnât a dream or a nightmare. No this was his reality, a horrific reality that heâd made into his own. Carmen sat, eyes trained on the concrete of the garage, voice racing and blending in his mind- his words, yours, Teddyâs cries, Natalie and Richieâs, flashbacks of his mother screaming fits.Â
He didnât move, frozen in chilling, eerie fear. What ifs and terrifying possible scenarios, consequences to his own actions that left him feeling sick, hands trembling. A spiraling of fears that only drug him deeper and deeper with every haunting replay of his outburst. Even the flashing of headlights turning into the driveway, filling the garage with light, didnât pull him from his trance.Â
âThe fuck is he- Cousin!â Richie roared, laying on the horn. Carmen didnât move, didnât acknowledge that he heard it, only stared. Richie frowned, turning the car off, throwing the door open.Â
âCousin? Carm? What-What are you doinâ? Dinner service started an hour ago. Syd is freakinâ the fuck out.â Richie threw his hands up, walking towards the man who still didnât move. Richieâs heart skipped, flashbacks of Mikey flooding into his vision, parallels of the two brothers blurring before him.Â
âYo, Carm, you-you good?â Richie stepped into the garage, his spine tingling with icy fear. It was quiet, an eerie, unsettling quiet. âCousin, hey, what-whatâs wrong?âÂ
Carmen's chest rose and fell, tighter and tighter. He was suffocating, head spinning and mind racing so fast he felt light headed. He could barely hear Richieâs voice over the noise in his head, Richieâs hand shaking his shoulder finally breaking his trance enough to meet his eyes, rounded in fear filled question.Â
âCarmen, whatâs wrong? Is it- Donât fuckinâ tell me itâs the baby. What the fuck is goinâ on-âÂ
â-She left.â Carmenâs voice shook, raspy and scared. His tongue still felt too thick, head still spinning. He wasnât even sure he said it, Richieâs widening eyes the only thing confirming that he had said it.Â
âWhat? Who-Who left? Who?â Richie looked around, like the clues might be there, sure that Carmen wasnât talking about you. No, he wouldnât- he couldnât. Not you.Â
Carmenâs breath hitched, a strangling of a sob caught in his throat, running his hand over his face. Richie didnât miss the way it trembled, shaking even as it rested over his eyes. Your car was gone, the house too quiet, no baby Teddy crying, nothing but silence was left.Â
Richieâs heartbeat crawled into a rapid, scared pace. âWhy? Wh-Why would she-â Richie looked at Carmen, eyes wide but still, reading his expression. âNo. No, Cousin, no. What-What did you do? Carmen,�� Richie grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he met his gaze. âWhat did you do?âÂ
Carmenâs face began to crack, behind his eyes, Richie could see flashbacks of something- something he didnât know what, but whatever it was, it was painful. That was evident by the fear that glossed over Carmenâs eyes, realization and horror. Carmenâs shoulders shook, frame rocking with a sob he tried to swallow, but couldnât. Deep cries, guttural sobs breaking out of his frame, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, fingers curled and clenched around his greasy curls in agony.Â
The damning realization flooded over him, that youâd left.Â
Youâd left, youâd taken Teddy, taken Anchovy- youâd left because heâd driven you away. His angry outburst, petulant, mean, hurtful- heâd been so cruel to you. You. His wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, the one person who loved him endlessly without stipulations or boundaries, the one person who truly understood him.Â
And heâd driven you away.Â
He wished he could blame his mom, his dad, his family for fucking him up so severely, maybe Mikey, even, for leaving him the shit show that was the restaurant, making his anxieties worse and fuse shorter. But sitting in the empty garage, Richie standing above him in silent shock, his sobs and angry sniffles echoing off the cement floor, Carmen knew he had no one to blame but himself.Â
Heâd fucked up. Really fucked up. Fucked up in a way that made all the other times look obsolete.Â
Carmen had fucked up, and for once, he didnât know what to do. He couldnât avoid it, ignore it, deflect it like other times. Half hearted apologies and promises of change wouldnât work, you werenât here for him to even try to give them to you, and he didnât know where you went.Â
Carmen wasnât sure where you went, how to fix this, why heâd done what he did, and a million other things that raced through his mind. What he did know, sitting in the too quiet garage, chest stuttering with heaving cries, was that heâd do anything.Â
Anything, to get you back home. To make it right. To fix this and make it up to you.Â
He wasnât sure how, but heâd give up everything. Anything. His restaurant, his dreams, his hopes, his life, at this point, to make it up to you.Â
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto#dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader#carmen berzatto angst#carmen berzatto x reader angst#dorothea âteddyâ berzatto#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#the bear fic#tina the bear#richie jerimovich#camren berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x pregnant reader#carmen berzatto x pregnant!reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x fem!reader angst#the bear angst#the bear fanfiction#the bear hulu#the bear fx#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#natalie berzatto#sugar berzatto
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Request: carmy/reader, jealousy
âyouâre so mean to me.â (c. berzatto x reader)
You friend sees you at the Beef while you were helping out at the counter. Carmy feels insecure. (mean!carmy, angst to fluff, just :(, sydney is such a sweetheart, protect carmen at all cost, not sure if there are spoilers, unedited.) - ACCEPTING REQUESTS!
He comes to the Beef with authority and an air of confidence. Richie noticed that he had a designer shirt on, the monogram of some brand littered on it. The shoes on his feet could cover some expenses at the Beef. You were helping out at the counter that day. Carmy has been telling you how stressful the Beef had been since day one and you decided that on your days off, youâd go down to the shop and help. Carmy wished you didnât come that dayâŚnot if he was there.
The first time you came, Carmy was bewildered. He was a blushing, babbling mess when his girlfriend came to help. âAyo, Jeff, stop staring and give the girl a job!â Tina teased, making Carmyâs ears turn red.Â
âAlright, Chef,â he said, looking at you, finally breaking out of his trance. âCome to the office and IâllâŚorient you,â he takes your hand and brings you to the back office before you could say hi to his coworkers. âSyd, cover for me!â
âYes, chef!âÂ
He locked the door behind him and kissed your head.Â
âHey, baby. What are you doing here?â he asked. His voice was soft, dripping with vanilla and honey.
âItâs my day-off and youâve been telling me how much you needed another person at the counter and I decided to come down and help out. Iâm sure Richie could help me,â you said. âBut if you think that I might disrupt the system, I can leave and stay in the area! We can go on a date after your shift,âÂ
Carmy could just melt. How were you so considerate and beautiful and kind to him? He was so sure that he didnât deserve you. He was almost certain that you were too good for him. Too good for everyone.
âI promise, I wonât mind whatever you choose, Carm.â you said, smiling softly at him. You could see the gears in his head turning.Â
âNo, no. I want you here,â said. âI want you here.â
âOkay. Iâll stay,â he hears, and you kiss him softly. âIâll go to Richie and ask him to teach me the basics, okay?â
âAlright,â he said, pecking your lips âJust come to the office if youâre not feeling it, okay?â
âYeah,â you nod, leaving the space and leaving a lovesick Carmy in the office.Â
âHey, guys! Sorry if Iâm here on short notice. Iâll just keep out of your way and help Richie out, okay?â you asked. The kitchen hums and releases a series of âsureâ, âokayâ, and âthank youâs.â
âChefs! Iâll take care of family today,â Carmy said a few moments later. He was watching you joke around with Richie. He was teaching you the basics and teaching you how to take orders.Â
The first time you helped out, Carmy was tense. He didnât want anything to happen to you. Nothing to touch you but soon, once you were well-integrated in their system, the kitchen found themselves looking forward to every Wednesday when Carmy was calmer, less annoying, and less rude. Itâs like you take out every bad thing in him.Â
-
Not today though. Not when Richie saw your eyes widen in recognition, an instantaneous sweet smile plastered on your face.
âAyo, cousin!â he calls, while you almost literally jumped over the counter to talk to this guy.Â
âLawrence!â you greeted, taking him in a hug. âHow are you? Richie, this is my childhood friend, Lawrence. Lawrence, this is Richie,â
Richie could only give a grimace and a half-assed wave. Where the fuck was Carmy?
âWait for a bit,â you asked. âSit down, okay? Your sandwich is on the house.â You looked at Richie to ask if he could cover for a few minutes and he nodded. He shouts at the order in the kitchen.
âWhoâs that asshole?â he asked, getting a glass of pop.Â
âMy childhood friend,â you said. âWe grew up in the same street together,â
âWhat does he do?â
âFinanceâŚI think? Itâs been a while since we last talked. I think last year?â you wondered. âI didnât even know that he was still in Chicago because we saw each other in New York,â
âCarmy knows him?âÂ
âNo, I donât think so. I donât talk about him alot. I think Carmy only knows him as a childhood friend,â you said. âTheyâve never met each other.â
Richie gives you the drink and the sandwich that Tina prepared. You uttered a thanks before walking to whereLawrence sat.Â
âI didnât know you worked here,â he said, taking the sandwich from the tray.Â
âI didnât know you still lived here,â you said. âThe last time that I saw you was in New York. I thought you were a big finance guy?â
âAh, I quit,â he shrugged. âDecided to start my own start-up here in Chicago. I had enough savings and well, you know,â
âOf course,â you nod. âI donât work here. I just help out once a week because everythingâs been so busy,â
âHm,â he hums. âMy employees have been raving about the sandwiches here since the new management took over. Decided to try it out and sure enough, you were there.â
âFuck! Where the fuck were you?â Richie asked Carmy when he finally came through the back door. Some rich asshole has been wooing your girl in the seating area. Says heâs her childhood friend or some shit,â
âWho?â Carmen asked, removing his jacket.Â
âYour girlfriend took a break to talk to a customer, Jeff.â Tina said. Carmy frowned, walking briskly to you. The staff huddled, intrigued at how this could unfold. Carmy has never felt jealousy before. Heâs never had to deal with girlfriends and their guy friends that definitely look at you too long. Heâd never have to deal with Lawrence who was so obviously flirting with you. Heâd never have to deal with you accepting it. The jealousy consumes him.
âCarmy! Come here,â you said when you finally noticed him. Heâs been standing there for minutes while you listened to this guy drone on about how bored he was with his money. How you were probably meant to see each other again.Â
âHey,â Carmy greets the guy in front of you. A chair scrapes loudly on the floor, reverberating in the whole restaurant. He sits down.Â
âCarmyâs the owner of this place,â you told Lawrence. âHeâs my boyfriend.â
âHe is?â Lawrence asked and Carmy could feel him sizing him up in his dirty white t-shirt. âIâm Lawrence. We grew up together,â
âOh,â Carmy said. âUh, babe, can I talk to you for a minute in the office?â
âSure,â you said. âI have to go,â you told Lawrence, who stood up as well. His sandwich was half-eaten and it annoyed Carmy. Had he no respect to at least finish the food in front of the chef who made it? Asshole.Â
âNo, itâs fine. Iâm leaving too,â Lawrence said. âI have a meeting around here. Iâll see you?â he asked.Â
âOf course,â You removed your hand from Carmen to hug Lawrence and it fucking hurt. Lawrence kisses the side of your head before sparing a glance to Carmy. What an asshole.Â
âWhat was it, Carm?â you asked, smiling. You were almost forgiven because of how sweet you looked but Carmy have always felt things too intensely. He couldnât stop what came from his mouth and it was too late. Too fucking late and the damage has been done.
âGo home,â he said, coldly. Your face fell and Carmen wanted to take it back. He felt you recoil yourself away from him, as if heâs hurt you. As if he burned you.
âBear?â you asked softly.
âGo home,â he repeated. You frowned, grief-stricken but you nodded.Â
âOkay,â you whispered. âIâllâŚIâll just get my stuff from the locker,â
Carmy looks away from you and you clear your throat. Walking away from him, you saw the staff pretend like they werenât listening.
âHey, guys. Iâm goingâŚgoing home,â you said, trying to stabilize your wavering voice. Tears were threatening to spill but you blink them away. âI donât feel well, and I realized I have thisâŚthing to attend to.â you lied.
âOf course, sweets,â Tina says. âGet home safely, okay?â she asked.Â
âYeah. Iâll let you know once Iâm home.â
âIâll come with you,â Sydney says, glaring at Carmen.Â
âNo, itâsâ â
âItâs just a few blocks away. Iâll take you.â she says, and you nodded, walking to the locker room with her.Â
âSorry for being such a bother,â you said while you waited for her to change into her outside shoes.Â
âYouâre not,â she reassured. âLetâs go?â
-
âI didnât know what I did wrong,â you said, walking away from The Beef. âI was just so excited to see my friend. We grew up together, you know? In the same street. Went to the same school and we havenât seen each other in a year. I didnât know what I did for Carmy to be so mean.â
âItâs okay,â Syd says, not wanting to get in the middle. âJust explain things to him, okay? Youâre the only person he listens to.â
âI guess,â you nodded, wiping the tears from your cheeks. âI justâŚheâs never been that way to me before. It feels new and I donât like it,â
Syd, whoâs been on the receiving end of Carmy Berzattoâs anger, wanted to protect you from him but it wasnât her place. She wanted so badly to tell you to let him cool off.
The remaining walk back to your apartment was quiet. You both didnât know what to say, where to start.Â
âDo you want to come in?â you asked Sydney. âRefresh a bit?â
âNo, Iâm fine. I might be needed at the restaurant,â Syd says. You nod, going in for a goodbye hug with your friend. âIâll see you?â
âYeah. Thanks for walking me home. Stay safe, okay?â
-
The kitchen hated Carmy that day. He was ruder, more annoying, moreâŚinsufferable. Tina said that he handled the situation wrong, Eibrahim and the others, except for Richie agreed. So, when Sydney comes back, the first thing she say was, âWhat the fuck, Carmen?â
âStay out of it, Sydney,â Richie warns but Sydney did not give a fuck. Seeing her friend so defeated, so sad stirred something in her. Maybe she was biased because she actually liked you
âShe was crying all the way from here,â she said. Carmy felt like he was going to throw up. âGrow up, Carmy. Just because you canât handle that she has other friends, doesnât mean you have to take it out on her.â
âFuck off, Sydney.â
Sydney stands, taken aback. She was just trying to help.
âFine,â she says, blinking. âBut if you come to an empty home, donât take it out on us.â
-
Sydneyâs warning rang in his ears as he drove home. He was anxious but his anger superseded every emotion that he was feeling. That was why, when he opened the door, he immediately looked for you.Â
âWho was that?â he demanded. Anxiety and anger had such a bad mix and he knew it. He couldnât stop. That friend of yours made him feel so insecure.Â
âCarmen,â you sighed. âHeâs my friend. Lawrence. I told you about him before,â
âCarmen?â he chuckled. Heâs just Carmen now? âI donât like him.â
âWhy?â you asked, exasperated. âHeâs nice. I was actually so excited for the two of you to meet until you ruined it. Heâs my friend that I havenât seen in over a year, Carmy. Wasnât it a natural reaction to be excited?â
âWhat? Youâre telling me that I ruined your little date in my restaurant?â he asked, voice raising. âThatâs nice. Sorry for bothering you,â
âWe werenât even doing anything wrong!â you said, walking away. You didnât want thisâyou just wanted to talk about things without screaming.Â
âHey! Get back here, Iâm talking to you!â
âTalk about what, Carmen?â you asked. âYouâre not listening to me. Okay? What is there to talk about?â
âYou let him all over you like that! Took a break just to spend time with him,â he sneered. âAnd-and he looked at you like you were his. You let him kiss you. You let him do things to you and you just fucking accepted it.â
âWhat?â you asked. âLawrence and I grew up like that Thereâs nothing wrong with it,â you tried. You were probably being too defensive, not letting Carmy explain his side but you were hurt when he dismissed you just like that. When he let you go without a kiss. He just looked away when you were pleading with him.Â
âSo, youâd rather defend your old fucking friend instead of trying to fix this bullshit,â Carmen spits. âHeard,â
âWhat?â your heart dropped. âBullshit?â The first tear falls like it was rehearsed. It broke your heart to hear Carmy call you relationship bullshit when youâve spent the best days of your life with him. When you helped him through the nightmaresâŚwhen he took care of you. âBullshit, huh, Carmen?â
You couldnât form a string of coherent sentences. Your mouth was agape, trying to process what he just said. Fix this bullshit. Fix this bullshit. You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from crying.Â
Bullshit. It was when you stayed up late to make sure that he slept peacefully, threading your fingers in his golden hair so he could feel your presence. Bullshit. It was when you picked him up from some bar downtown because he decided to drink with Richie. Bullshit. It was when you sacrificed your days-off just so you could spend more time together. Bullshit. It was when he showed up on your first date with flowers that you pressed in between the pages of your favorite book. Bullshit. It was when Carmen told you that he loved you because you made him a burnt grilled cheese sandwich. Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit. It was ringing in your ear, breaking your heart in a million pieces.Â
âFuck, baby,â Carmen takes it back when you moved to walk towards the door. âIâm sorryâ â
âIs that all it was to you?â you asked. âBullshit? Is that why you dismissed me so coldly earlier? Because itâs bullshit?â Tears are on your face now and you wipe them away. âItâs bullshit, huh?â
âBabyâŚâ
âDonât,â you said. âFuck, youâre soâŚso mean,â you said, crouching on the floor to shield yourself away from him. âIâŚI donât know what I did wrong,â you whispered. âAnd Iâm sorry if my actions hurt you but thatâs how I grew up with Lawrence. I didnât know that I was hurting you but, fuck,â you sobbed. âYouâre so mean to me, Bear.â You didnât mean it as an endearment, and he knew that.
âIâm sorry, baby,â he says, crouching down to your level. âI didnât mean to say that. Iâm so fucking sorry,â he whispers, taking you in his arms. You didnât want to fight back. âIâm sorry for-for doing that. For projecting my insecurities on you. I justâŚhe has life figured out and I could never give you what he could give. Iâm sorry, baby. Iâm so fucking sorry,â
âI donât want him,â you sniffled. âIâm with you, you know? PleaseâŚplease, donât call it bullshit. Because itâs notâŚfor me, at least.â
âItâs not bullshit. Iâm sorry, so fucking sorry for saying that. Iâm so sorry,â he rambles sincerely. âYouâre the best person that Iâve met. I love you. I love you so much that the thought of anyone else loving you drives me mad. Iâm sorry,â
âYou were mean to me,â
âI was, baby. I was,â he said. âI promise to stop myself from being mean. Iâm so sorry. I donât-donât want to lose you. Please-please donât leave me. Please, donât leave.â
âIâm not going to leave you, Carmen.â you cooed, and you felt his arms tighten around you.
âNot that name, please. Iâm just so fucking sorry for saying that and making you feel bad. Iâm sorry.â
âThank you,â you said. âIâm sorry too. I should have been more considerate. I love you so much, Bear.â
âItâs my fault. All my fault,âÂ
âItâs not.â
âCan we-can we go to bed?â he asked, pulling away from you. You nodded. That night, when you were half-asleep, you felt his calloused hand caress your cheek. Youâd never tell him, but you heard him. Loud and clear.
âI love you,â he whispers. âYou donât know how much I love you and Iâm sorry. I love you.â
A/N: No Carmen Berzatto taglist yet! Also, if youâre waiting for the Tommy Shelby fic, you might have a to wait a week more before I release it. I want to release a chapter every week and I havenât written the second chapter for this week yet. Thank you for reading! Donât forget to leave comments and reblogs :)
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto#fanfiction#angst#fluff#the bear#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto angst#carment berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto angst#the bear fx#ask
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just a taste
premise: meeting luca after work doesn't usually end up with the two of you in an intense lip lock, both of you knowing once you start it's hard to stop. but that's what offices are for, right?
pairing: luca x (f)reader
word count: 3.1k
contents: literally barely any plot here, oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, coming inside, established relationship, doing it at the workplace, teasing, dirty talk, pet names.
note: i know the bare minimum about this man because iâve never seen the bear but those tattoos, the accent, the hair?? fill me like an eclair is all i have to say ok!
The cool breeze of the night air almost makes you regret not just heading straight home and slipping under the steam of a nice long shower and grabbing the first blanket you see on the sofa and planting yourself there for the rest of the night. Await your boyfriend's arrival under the comfort of cotton and cushion that heâll surely plop down next to you on after heâs kicked off his shoes. His cold fingers finding you under the blanket to pull you close to his side, a string of kisses pressed along the side of your neck before finding your lips. The smell of yeast and sugarâembedded in his skin at this pointâmaking you bury your nose into his collarbone.Â
But this was a ritual for the both of you.Â
You finishing your studies and then meeting him after work.Â
The two of you walking home together, barely making it through the threshold of your place before lips and clothes were being pressed together and thrown to the floor. Lucaâs soft laugh at needing to shower. Thus always leading to your face pressed into the wall of the shower and Lucaâs fingers digging into your hips as he thrust inside of you.Â
So that nibble of regret doesnât last long when you come to a stop in front of his work. The makings of anticipation pull at the corner of your mouth as you grab your phone from your bag and start to text him to let him know youâre out front.Â
A text thatâs barely on the last word when the breeze of the door is hitting you and making you look up, âyou can go in. He's in the back.â a co-worker youâve met a dozen times, but his name slips your mind as you give him an appreciative smile and thank him as you slip through the doors as he walks out.Â
You could enter the kitchen a dozen timesâa million, a billionâyour nose filling with that sweet aroma, Luca bent over a table, a dish, fingers deep in a ball of dough, the monochromatic uniform making his tattoos stand out on his skin like the most beautiful canvas, and youâd never get over the view.Â
Over how your insides react when you see him in his element.
See him doing what he loves.Â
Itâs like the first time every time.Â
Just like the first time he dragged you into the kitchen after your tenth date. Showing you his own version of paradise. His love. His joy. The way his face lit up when your eyes brightened when you bit into the scone he had madeâsavedâfor you. The euphoric sweetness a good dessert can do to one's brainstem is still a scientific mystery to you, but youâd gladly leave the research to the experts if you could experience it forever.Â
Taste Lucaâs creations forever.Â
That memory seems like ages ago. Now well into two years of your relationship.Â
Nothing seems to fade with Luca.Â
Your first times feeling just as tortuous to your fluttering insides as the tenth or twentieth time around.Â
It knocks you off kilter in the best way.Â
And when you look over at Luca after dropping off your bag and sweater in an open chair, you can not help but laugh when he finally looks up from cleaning off the surfaces of the metal tables and that stone look of him being in chef mode falls from the creases of his face and his features melt into something soft.Â
He doesnât say anything until his arm is around your midsection, drawing you in. âHi, beautiful.â He smiles as your lips meet in a long kiss. Kissing you as if he hasnât seen you in days, as if he has spent the entire day waiting for this moment and this moment alone. âHow was your day?âÂ
âNot as good as it is now,â you tease. Hand in the back of his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours.Â
The hum that makes your lips buzz and that lands on your tongue as he backs you up so your back is pressed into the doorframe makes anything you could tell him about what happened in your day lackluster. Incomparable. How could you possibly think of anything worthwhileâhow could anything be as worthwhileâas his tongue moving along your bottom lip, his hand at the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing a small circle into your skin?Â
It couldnât.
"Let me finish cleaning up," he smirks. Thumb and pointer reaching for your chin, squeezing it, luring you in for one last kiss before returning to cleaning and leaving you dazed in the doorway. Â
And if you didnât know how seriously Luca takes this, from the ritual of making pastries to maintaining a stern, clean kitchen, you would tell him to hurry. Complaining that it is not fair for him to kiss you like that and then make you wait for him to finish, but the payoff was always worth the wait. And you love Lucaâs love for his craft. Love him in this elementâwatching him and seeing him go into that little part of his brain that makes him go into boss mode.Â
The stern gentleness of it all.Â
Itâs breathtaking to watch.
Itâs art.
Heâs art.Â
So thatâs what you do.Â
You push off the doorframe and enter further into the kitchen just to watch him.Â
âHow was your day?â You ask while watching him write on the white board in the corner.Â
âGood. We got a new guy who came in.âÂ
âIs he any good?âÂ
âBetter than he thinks he is.âÂ
âI bet you brought out his best. You always do.â You smile at him when you watch him shrug off the compliment, not missing the twitch of the corner of his mouth. Ever so modest.Â
Wordlessly, he puts the cap back on the marker and sets it against the metal of the board, walking over to one of the refrigerators and pulling out a small bowl of something green and white.Â
Something that looks too beautifully crafted to eat, let alone eaten by someone who might not fully understand what went into making something so decadentâsomething that looks like it would be served to someone with a gold card, not someone who eats boxed mac and cheese for dinner twice a week (which Luca always tries to make fancier than Kraft ever could).Â
Luca hands you a spoon, âtold him the only critic that mattered was sharing a bed with me.â You make a face, the both of you knowing how outlandish that sounds when the food genius himself is standing in front of you. The critic who mattered to a lot of people more than the girl who was sharing his bed.Â
But it still brings a smile to your face.Â
âDid he think you were utterly insane for such a statement? I think eating greasy takeout two nights in a row is five star dining.â
He chuckles, âyouâre the only critic that matters to me.â His palms come down on the edge of the metal table between you as he leans against it. âThe only important one at least. Try it.â
The swoop that runs through you from his words, from his eagerness to hear your thoughts on a dessert you do not even know the name of, but know you will appreciate more than anyone else because it came from someone he admires, makes your cheeks heat up.Â
And when it touches your tongue, when that euphoric sweetness overcomes your tastebuds, you donât think the English dictionary could come in handy with describing the taste. The goodness of it. Compliments, which you know Luca and his fellow chefs have heard many times before and then some. But still bring that artist's joy to their chests when your eyes widen and you look at them in something akin to shock.Â
The moan you let out makes him grin.
âGood?â
âIs he single?âÂ
âOh, thatâs how it is, huh?â His arms cross over his chest, a playful brow raised.
You take another bite of the dessert, âI think you might want to start looking for another job.â
âAnd a girlfriend?â
You nod, âwith something that tastes this good, I would give him my social security number easily. Oh my god.â You dramatically moan around the spoon, the action doing little to hide the simpering look on your face.
âHere I thought I was the only one who could make you spill such confidential secrets.â Luca strides across the table, coming to stand at your back. His lips pressing against the back of your neck and the top of your shoulder.Â
Finding its home where your collarbone meets the junction of your throat, where he lets his warm breath blow against the known sensitivity there, then presses his lips to it. Making your back push into his front, your body melting against him.Â
A soft noise lays dormant at the tail end of your throat, making a ghost of a smirk etch against your skin from his mouth as he murmurs, âand the only one who can make those noises come out of you.â
Your voice is breathy when you say, âso much for being humble.â
"When itâs the truth, I do not need to be humble." His lips trailing to your ear, fingers running up the back of your exposed thighs, pulling up your skirt until they are at the apex of your hip, skating forward and close to your clothed mound. âAm I wrong? Should we see?âÂ
The spoon in your hand lucky you donât have superhuman strength because it would be crushed in your grip right now.Â
Lucaâs fingers splay themselves across your pelvis, toying with the top of your underwear. âHmm, awfully quiet now. Whereâd my mouthy girl go?â An airy chuckle tickles your ear as he lets it out, âhumbled are you?âÂ
Thereâs a teasing sneer forming on your mouth before it does a 180 and morphs into an âoâ as Lucaâs fingers push into your underwear, the pad running through the clear as day arousal thatâs been making your thighs clench uncomfortably since your kiss in the doorway.Â
When the finger moves against your clit there's no covering up the gasps that fall from your lips. Or the way your ass grinds against the erection thatâs pressing up against it.Â
âWhoâs humble now?â He teases. A cheeky grin on his face when he pulls his hand out from your underwear, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking it into his mouth. Making your cheeks heat even more when you turn to look at him. Your teasing turns needy as you give him that look, the one that always makes him drop whatever he is doing and have his body on yours within seconds.Â
You both know that making it home now will feel ten times longer. Ten times more agonizing in the cool air with your warming bodies.
With you soaking your underwear and him hard against his zipper.Â
So when he says âofficeâ, all you can do is chew on your bottom lip in eagerness as you make a beeline towards it. Luca closer behind you than you expect when you hear the door shut seconds after youâve entered and his mouth immediately on yours, your ass hoisted onto the nearest surface.Â
Lucaâs fingers making quick work to pull down your underwear, your skirt bunched at your hips. You fully expect him to pull himself up from his knees after slipping the lace from your ankle and tossing it to the floor. You expect him to come back up and slide inside of you quick and easy, but instead heâs trailing kisses and bites into your thighs.Â
Blue eyes look up into yours, and he must see the need in themâthat glint that tells him all you want is for him to be inside of you right now. The heady woes of foreplay just torture at this point.Â
His teeth sink harder into your flesh, making you gasp. âIâve worked hard all day; donât I deserve a treat? A taste of the best dessert out there.âÂ
And how could you argue with that?
You canât.
Not when his tongue runs from the bite mark in your skin to your wetness. Spreading you around him as he licks a stripe up your pussy. Your grip on the metal your ass is under hard and tight enough to leave marks against your palm.Â
And as crude as it makes you sound, as obscene and cocky as it comes off your lips, you will never hold back from telling Luca that his talent as a chef will never outweigh how good he is with his mouth and cock.Â
Heâs multi-talented and itâs a blessing and a curse to your insides.Â
âOh, fuck. Luca,â your head hangs between your shoulders. Your fingers in his hair, the heel of your shoe pressed against his backâhis apron long gone, leaving him in that navy blueâhis fingers digging into the side of your thighs as he keeps you against his mouth.Â
The mouth thatâs switching between sucking your clit between his lips and rolling his tongue against it. Eating you like youâre the best dessert his tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting.Â
It never takes him long to get you there. To make your chest heave and your nerve endings light up, as if they are about to make you panic from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that is completely taking over your body.Â
His fingers have created beautiful, mouth watering food, just as theyâve made you completely lose your mind. Your legs shaking around his head. Your back involuntarily bows until it hits the metal surface of the desk youâre perched on.Â
Itâs when he slips two fingers inside of you that you completely lose it. The sob that pulls itself from your lungs feels red-hot in your throat as your fingers grip the strands of his blonde hair as you come against his mouth. Your hips riding out your high. Rolling against his tongue in a languid way, drawing out the aftershocks of your orgasm.Â
Your body still reeling and alight with that desire-train that still has it wanting more. That heavy ache between your legs that wants to be filled. To be fucked by something bigger and thicker than a finger.
Your mouth comes down on the tabasco tattoo below Lucaâs wrist in a gentle kiss, one of your favorites of his, when his hand comes to cup the back of your head to pull you up to him.Â
His thumb runs from your cheek to your chin, where he pushes it up, so youâre looking up at him and heâs looking down at you as he stands between your legs. Your nails run along the tattoos along his arms, up his bicep, and to the nape of his neck. A fire burning in his eyes when your fingers run between the strands back there.Â
âTell me,â he says close to your lips. Heâs checking in. Seeing if youâre too spent for his cock, seeing if there's more you want. If you want to wait until you get home. If youâre ready for him now.Â
âItâd be cruel to not fuck me now.â You say it in a half-tease-half-serious tone.Â
âOoh,â he murmurs against your mouth, his tongue clicking against his teeth. âI donât want to be cruel.â You can feel his other hand move between the two of you, undoing the button of his pants and messing with the zipper until heâs pulling himself out of them, hard and leaking. âWhat kind of boyfriend would I be if I didnât give my girl what she so desperately needs?âÂ
Luca smirks when you laugh into his mouth, âthe worst kind.â
With one last kiss, lick, and nip at your lower lip, heâs rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your thighs shake. Nails dig into his skull as he soaks up your oversensitivity to coat himself before going lower and slipping inside of you in one slow, fluid motion.Â
Your mouth hung open at the stretch, and your breath caught in your lungs. Your foreheads resting against each other as you let your walls accommodate his girth, both of your breaths heavy. The pounding you can feel between your legsâthat youâre not sure is coming from him or you or something more poetic and overwhelming like your conjoined bodies aching as one, like a heartbeat aches for a chest cavity when itâs torn from a body.Â
The two of you need this.Â
Need each other.Â
When Luca starts moving, you know the two of you are both completely fucked. Spent and so full of desire that you know your time in this office is just the start of a long night of tangled limbs and wet mouths.Â
The sounds you are making against each other's mouth are breathy and intoxicating. His tongue in your mouth swallows every mewl and moan he coaxes from your body with each stroke of his cock.Â
His fingers find the back of your head again, not allowing you to even think about leaving his mouth.Â
You think you see stars when his palm finds the back of your thigh and pulls your leg higher on his hips. Think you could let this man completely consume you, and youâd still never be satisfied. Never get over how good it feels to feel his hips drive deeper into you, to feel the head of his cock hit that spot inside of you that makes his name roll off your tongue like a prayer.Â
âWhoâs pussy is it, baby?âÂ
"Mm'fuck," you are not sure if he is still playing the game of you leaving him for the new chef or if his filthy mouth is attempting to completely destroy youâwhich is nothing new when he has you coating and tightening around his cock like this.Â
When you say his name, when you whine it into his mouth like a pathetic desperation, the erotic noise that itâs met with makes you cling to him tighter. Makes you press yourself closer to him. The movement makes the outside of his pants grind against your clit.Â
âSo beautiful,â Luca murmurs. The octave of his voice grows lower and choppy with heavy breaths the closer he gets. Neither of you lasts much longer when his pace picks up. The grip the two of you have on each other is hard and rough, enough to tear and leave marks that youâll later kiss with gentle lips, unlike the passion thatâs coming through with the hard kisses your mouths are giving as you both come.Â
âHowâd I get so lucky?â He breathes into your mouth, twisting your insides even more.Â
#luca x reader#will poulter x reader#luca the bear#will poulter smut#luca smut#luca x you#luca the bear x you#the bear#the bear fanfiction#will poulter x you#the bear fx#the bear one shot#will poulter fic#the bear x reader#will poulter#adam warlock smut#luca one shot#the bear imagine
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God's Plan
prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
collection masterlist: Clingy Baby
word count: 3.3k+
note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.
warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.
part two: Two to Tango
"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"
You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."
"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"
You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"
"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."
"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.
So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.
You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.
Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.
However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.
You were beat.
You were overwhelmed.
You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.
You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:
what time do you think you'll be off?
He replied when you got to your car:
maybe around 8?
You sniffled, nodding, answering:
okay, see you when you get home.
As you exited the parking lot, he replied:
what? you're off?
And you answered:
yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?
When you made three turns, he sent back:
i'll try, peach đ
When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.
You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,
hey, are you gonna be much later?
You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,
i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home
You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.
Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.
"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"
"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.
He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."
"But I haven't seen you."
"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"
"No, Carmen, go to sleep."
"You sound mad."
"I'm not."
"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.
"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."
He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"
"No, Carmen, Jesus - "
"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.
You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"
"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"
"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"
"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."
Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."
He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."
You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.
"And you can be a dramatic bitch."
"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.
Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."
"What?" You muttered.
"You're late for work."
"Called in."
He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."
You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.
He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.
After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.
When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.
You still hadn't woken up when he got back.
So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.
You were awake around 4 am.
The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.
Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.
You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naĂŻve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.
You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.
Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.
All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.
Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.
"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"
"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."
You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.
Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.
You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!
Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?
All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.
Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.
You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.
You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"
"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"
"No?"
"Where are you, then?"
"I'm home."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"
He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.
"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"
"Oh, well... Why're you there?"
"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."
"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.
"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."
"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"
"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."
"I thought we could get back into it tonight."
You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."
He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"
"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."
"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"
"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."
"But tomorrow's... Friday?"
"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.
"You didn't think to tell me?"
"Why would I?"
"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"
"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"
"Baby - "
"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.
"What?"
"We need space from this relationship."
"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "
"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."
"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"
"Not yet, no."
"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "
"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."
"I didn't mean that - "
"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."
He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.
When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.
[ part two: ] Two to Tango
requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto angst#the bear#the bear fx#fx the bear#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction
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