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#carmen berzatto blurb
thebearer · 2 days
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nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.
based off this prompt from the other day :)
contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.
“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 
“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 
“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 
“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 
“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 
“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 
The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 
You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 
Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 
“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 
“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 
Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 
There you were. 
Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 
“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 
“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 
“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 
“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 
“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 
Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 
From: Richie 
‘Look at table nine.’ 
Sugar huffed. 
To: Richie 
‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 
She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 
To: Richie 
‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 
From: Richie 
‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 
Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 
Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 
“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 
“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 
“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 
“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  
“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 
“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 
“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 
Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 
“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 
“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 
“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 
“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.
“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 
“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 
Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 
Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 
“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 
“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 
“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 
“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 
“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 
Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 
“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 
Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 
“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 
Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 
“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 
“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 
“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 
Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 
“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 
Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 
This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 
“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 
Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 
“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 
Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 
“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 
Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 
“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 
“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 
“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 
“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 
Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.
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thecapricunt1616 · 3 days
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Pairing : Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x FemOC! - Winnow (Winnie) Walsh ***I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTER IN THIS STORY OTHER THAN WINNIE***
Summary : After a tragic motorcycle accident, and losing her twin brother - Winnow (Winnie) Walsh is left with no identity of her own. She decides to take every penny she has and move to the windy city. Just 8 months after she gets into the groove of single adult life - In walks Carmen Berzatto, and she realizes she's doesn't have it together the way she thinks.
Chapter Count : 18/?
Current Word Count : 146,672
Warnings: 18+, Graphic depictions of motor accidents, Speaking of injuries / physical pain, Swearing, Panic attacks, Flashbacks, Bad coping skills, self harm, alcoholism, drinking, mentions of drug use, smut, BDSM themes (spanking, bondage, breeding kinks- etc), Spoilers for The Bear TV show
𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐓𝐰𝐨 | 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐒𝐢𝐱 | 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 | 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐓𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 | 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 | 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 | 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 | 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 | 𝐒𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 | 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 | 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 | 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧…𝐖𝐈𝐏 | 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲…𝐖𝐈𝐏 |
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 day
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And here is the other Carmy one!
Can I please request a fic where Carmy and Sugar have a younger sister, who is around 15 or something, running away and just showing up at Carmy’s doorstep, imagine him coming home to his apartment and seeing his lil sister asleep on her tiny backpack that she brought and he’s just like, “Y/n????” Carmy calling their Mom to let her know that Y/n’s at his apartment, his sister literally clinging to him and begging him not to send her back to their mother. Their mom giving the okay for her to stay with him, and Carmy looking at Y/n’s puppy dog eyes and agreeing. Omg ALSO him letting her work at the restaurant!!!!! Something that he always wished Mikey would’ve let him do!! UGH HIM PRETTY MUCH MENTORING HER AND GUIDING HER IN COOKING. Y/n following behind him like a lil lost pup. Her kinda being an assistant to her big brother!! He’d make sure she gets to school safely and I feel like he’d make sure she’s getting whatever she needs at school!! The staff taking care of her too like she’s one of their own, showing up to events at school, helping with homework, etc. Especially since Carm struggled in school, he doesn’t want the same thing to happen to her. Sugar may feel a littleeee offended that Y/n chose to go to Carmy instead of her, Y/n just has a special relationship with her brother and really looks up to him (probably wanting to be a chef like he is) 🤧 The staff being so fond of her and taking care of her
𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎
A/n- I love this so so much! so sorry this took a little I’ve been on a bit of a break. This is a lil short but im just trying to get back into the groove of writing ): im working on the other reqs too!
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Throwing everything you could fit into your bag, you glanced around the room once more. You never wanted to come back here.
Now where you would go? You didn’t know.
You wandered around the streets for a little, getting some food and once it hit 9 pm, you knew you had to go somewhere.
You found your feet padding against the stairs up to his apartment, remembering his address by heart.
“If you need anything, I’m always here, alright?” Were the words that rang in your head everyday ever since the funeral. Every time she yelled or asked you for a drink, you thought back to your brother.
He had given you a little slip on paper with his address on it, the numbers written quickly and sloppily. You kept it ever since.
You raised your fist, rapping on the door. When there was no answer, you did again. He wasn’t home you soon realized.
You sighed, putting your pillow that was underneath your arm onto the floor, knowing it could be a little until he was back. You ended up falling asleep on the floor.
And later, you woke up to a voice.
“Jesus…” he mumbled, your eyes slowly fluttering open.
“Hey, y/n.” He said quietly, “c’mon, get off the ground.” He held a hand out for you, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and grabbed his hand.
“Carmy.” You murmured sleepily, he chuckled quietly and began to unlock the door. You followed him into his apartment.
“What are you doing, y/n?” He asked you, motioning for you to sit down on the couch next to him as he got a glass of water.
“I… ran away.” You admitted, taking the glass.
His eyes widened, he stayed silent for a while until he spoke up again.
“Why’d you come here?”
“It’s the only other place I had to go.” You shrugged, looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Fuck… okay, let me…” he pulled out his phone.
“Wait, don’t make me go back. Please, don’t.”
“I’m just gonna let her know you’re here. I’m not sending you back.”
He went to the other side of the house, quietly talking to her.
He glanced back up at you, looking at your eyes and sighing when he put the phone down.
“You can stay here. Just until-“ he spoke, walking over. But he was cut off when you ran over and wrapped your arms around him, thanking him multiple times.
His hand was on the back of your head as he looked up at the ceiling.
———-
“Don’t be nervous. They’ll love you.” He said, he entered the room, seeing everyone sitting down at the table.
“Hey, everyone.” He greeted them all, you standing awkwardly behind him.
“Y/n?!” Sugar practically shouted when she saw you. She ran up, giving you a tight hug.
“Is that the shrimp?” Richie asked, standing up to get a good look at you now.
“Hey, guys.” You said to them both.
“I haven’t seen you in a while, how’ve you been?” He asked, giving you a hug as well.
“Oh my God! I missed you, what are you doing here?” She continued. You gave her a smile and looked at Carmy.
“Uhm, everyone, this is y/n. My sister.” He motioned to you. “She’s gonna be working here from now on.”
A bunch of people started talking at once, all greeting you.
“Wait, seriously?” Sugar asks him. He nodded.
“I.. ran away.” You told sugar and Richie. They both stayed silent for a moment.
“You chose to stay with him?” Sugar asked you, cracking a small smile again.
“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t know your address.” You told her.
She just smiled and gave you another hug.
“The foods gonna get cold,” Carmy said, nodding towards the table with a small smile. You sat in an empty chair next to Carmy.
The next weeks were the best, you felt more free than ever now. You learned how to cook better, and Carmy was more patient with you than he was with the others.
You seemed happier, and that was all that mattered to him.
You were a part of their family now.
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ohcaptains · 3 months
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So like the video of Gordon Ramsay when the girl burns her hand, all the “that’s it- deep breath- calm down- good girl- goooood girlllll” but like…it’s Carmy and you’ve burnt your hand and he’s screaming at Richie to get some ice but he’s speaking to you so gently but so in control and you almost forget your hand is still sizzling
he moves fast. pulls you to the sink, yelling, “richie get out of the fucking way,” and you can feel your heart beat in your hand. it’s pulsating, swear you can smell your flesh burning, and carmen is frantic. that man has never known peace, but this is raw kind of rush — panic a literal, physical thing.
“fuck, cousin, what’s the rush for—“ he starts, ready to fight, but he must see carmen holding your sizzling hand, and your pained, tense face, because he puts his hands up.
“whoa, man—what happened?”
carmen ignores him, and guides your hand under the tap, holding your wrist gently in his tatted palm. you hiss as soon as it touches the luckwarm water, and carmen nods his head, and gently says, “shh, i know.”
you hide your face with your elbow, but peak over and watch as water runs over your charred hand. duck fat will do that. you must make a sound, as carmen nods, and calmly orders, “relax your hand for me. come on, unclench. thereee we go, sweetheart. that’s it.”
richie pipes up, “i’m literally first aid trained, let me see,” and carmen’s face scrunches up, “can you shut the fuck up for a second?” he spits over his shoulder. you whine into your elbow, and carmen’s demeanor switches. he rubs your wrist, his voice soft and sweet as he coos, “just breathe, take a deep breath. you’re good, that’s it. unclench your hand for me again, i know it hurts but relax—thaaat’s it, goood. good girl, good.”
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ariisheresstuff · 5 months
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Sleepless Nights
Pairings: Dad!Carmy x Mom!Reader
Summary: The few days with a two week old baby was stressful, you were going through postpartum depression and it’s killing you. Carmy wakes up to the sounds of whimpers and cries from Kennedy, only to find you crying while comforting her.
Genre: Comfort, slight angst
Warnings: Postpartum Depression, crying, baby crying, stressed reader
MasterList
A/N: My requests are open, have a good day! <3
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It was only 1:20 AM and Carmen groaned to the sound of your newborn daughter crying, Carmen turned to your side of the bed only to find you standing next to Kennedy’s crib gently bouncing the small infant. Carmen rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he stood up and walked over to you. He yawned as he rubbed a hand on your lower back, he paused his movements only to feel your body shaking. He gently turned your shoulder only to frown. You were crying.
“Hey, baby, what’s the matter?” Carmy softly whispered to you, he tried cupping your face but you only shook your head looking down at Kennedy to hide your tears.
“I-it’s nothing Carm, g-go back to bed.” You said through hiccups, you softly shushed Kennedy’s cries but only for them to get louder. You were two seconds away from screaming.
“Here, gimme Kennedy baby. Go sit for me.” Carmen quickly took Kennedy out of your arms as he comforted the small child with soft hums and kisses. You sat on the bed hiding your face as you let the tears silently fall. Carmen walked around with the baby to get her fall back asleep.
“There ya go Kenzie, giving mommy such a hard time hm? I know it’s so hard living in a new world, but you gotta be nice to mommy. She’s done so much for you hm?” He said quietly as the small girl started to hiccup dozing back into sleep. Carmen smiled softly before pecking her head before walking over to her crib and placing her slowly down before rocking the crib slowly. After a few minutes he sighed before looking at you, he felt his heart shatter. He walked over to you as he ran his hands down your back in a comforting matter, that only made you sob more.
“Shh, baby. I know, it’s okay. Here, C’mere. Let’s go to the living room okay?” You looked up at him with a cloudy vision and a trembling lib before nodding. Carmen helped you up before taking your hand as he lead you to the quiet living room. He sat you down next to him as he wrapped his arms around you. You both stood there for a few minutes in silence only your sniffled and small whimpers being heard.
“You’re not alone in this, y’know that babe?” He said softly making you wrap your arms around his torso and hugging him tightly. Carmen didn’t hesitate to hug you back. He felt your body shake again.
“I-I’m sorry. I-It’s just too m-much for me, I-i don’t know what t-to do anymore.” You said through sobs, Carmen frowned he cupped your face out of his chest to make you look at him. He wiped away your tears with his thumb before giving you a stern look.
“Look at me Y/N.”
You hesitated before softly opening your red eyes with your eyebrows furrowed. Your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from crying. Carmen pulled your face closer to his as he laid a loving kiss on your lips, you closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment forgetting about everything. Carmy pulled away as he rested his forehead on yours for a moment before pulling away to look at you.
“Don’t ever say sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for, you’re going through a lot baby. A first born isn’t easy, I’ve seen Sugar and Richie deal with it. It’s okay to feel like this Y/N. Don’t think you’re alone on this, I’m here with you, that’s what husbands are for. I love you with all my heart baby, and it kills me to see you go through this stage. But I’m here for you and Kennedy. Please, don’t feel afraid about opening up to me about this.”
More tears fell only for Carmen to quickly wipe them away and bring you head to rest on his shoulder as he hugged you like you would disappear. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you let your emotions fall out.
“Let it out baby, it’s okay.” He whispered as he rubbed your back while kissing your head.
“I-I love you Carmy.” You said into his neck making Carmen smile, you pulled away to face him before giving him another kiss making you both sigh lovingly. You both stayed in each others arms for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence in each others embrace.
“You ready to go back to bed baby?” Carmen said softly into your shoulder, you sniffled before softly nodding. Carmy grunted as he got off the couch and reaching down with his hand gesturing for you to grab it. You grabbed his large hand as he lead you to the bedroom where Kennedy was sleeping. You two quietly entered the room and walked over to her crib on the side of the bed. You both looked down at the sleeping girl, you smiled as you ran a finger on her chubby cheek. You sighed as Carmen kissed the side of your head, you yawned quietly.
“Get some sleep baby, I’ll watch over her.” Carmen whispered making you frown at him.
“But, you have to get up in a few hours for work Bear. It’s fine I’ll stay-
“No babe, you need more sleep than I do. I’m fine baby, really, just please relax. You deserve it. I promise I got it, okay?” He cupped your face as he pecked your forehead clearly telling you to sleep. You sighed before nodding and leaning up to peck his nose. You grabbed his hand on your cheek and placing a kiss on his open palm.
“Thank you Carmy. I love you.” You said with a smile making Carmy smile back.
“And I love you more Y/N, always.” He brought you closer for one more kiss for the night before letting you go to bed.
He sighed as he felt a wave of proudness wash over him, he felt proud of taking care of you. His wife, who needed the comfort. Knowing he’ll always be there for his wife~
Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz
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kolsmikaelson · 6 months
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carmen - prompt list 2 - "since we're dating, does that mean i can hold your hand whenever i want?"
— LOVER OF MINE
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— a/n - i know i’m weeks late on writing this so i hope it was worth the wait <3. tysm for sending something in!
— warning (s) — not proofread, carm and r being idiots in love <3
— word count - 293
join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post!
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You’d met Carmy about six months back. Freshly moved into the apartment three doors down from him, you showed up on his doorstep a week or so later when your door got jammed and your phone had died. You weren’t sure what to do but you’d seen the blue eyed man with this unruly hair on more than one occasion and he looked nice enough. And before you knew it, he was asking you out for the first time and things took off from there.
While you’d been dating for the better part of those last six months you were still somewhat hesitant in showing public displays of affection. Carmy rarely initiated anything in public, though he would always have his hands on you if you were in the comfort of yours or his own apartment.
“Carm,” you ask, lifting your head from its place on his chest. “Can I ask you something?”
The TV playing an old hockey game is long forgotten as Carmen sits upright, pulling you with him.
“‘Course baby. What’s up?” There's a flash of fear hiding in his eyes, almost imperceptible, but you see it anyway.
“Nothing bad, promise. But since we're dating, does that mean I can hold your hand whenever I want? You don’t ever hold my hand unless we’re here or at my place.” you pout. Carmys loud laughter confuses you, not sure why he finds this so funny.
“‘M sorry baby, I didn’t think that you wanted me to be that way with you in public. ‘Course you can hold my hand in public.” He grins at you. “Was just letting you do whatever you were okay with, ‘M sorry.” He apologizes again, kissing your cheeks first before making his way to your lips.
© kolsmikaelson : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
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dividers by : @.cafekitsune
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mrscarmenbearzatto · 17 days
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wearing a chain that has carmy's name on it and he goes absolutely feral.
i'm talking breeding kink on full display
-🪷
oh absolutely. minors dni under the cut! :) nsfw content ahead
he sees his name on your chain around your neck. he just cancels his entire day’s plans, idc
and. he. goes. mad. of course he eats you out while watching your face - and more specifically that chain. i’ve said this before but he 100% makes eye contact with you as he’s lapping desperately at your cunt.
like his brain can’t focus on anything else. he’ll undress you until you’re literally just wearing the chain and he swears he’ll take a picture. just mumbling to himself as he kisses your neck while he’s making desperate thrusts, his groans echoing in your ear
and in comes the breeding kink! swearing he’ll make you a mommy, the image of you pregnant?? it could kill him. he knows it could. he rambles as he thrusts deeper and deeper until all your brain can think about is him. your heartbeat is just his name repeated over and over again, all your words replaced by moans of his name.
he just holds you close to him, vowing to make you his forever. and then he empties out in you, pulling out and sliding a finger back into your weeping cunt.
“gotta make sure it sticks, yeah?” he asks you softly. and of course we know carmy is like the best at aftercare!!
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Text
Sleepless Nights • Carmen Berzatto
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Pairing: Carmen x Reader
Tags: Fluff, angst if you squint
- - - - - - - -
Carmy’s cuticles were raw, bleeding slightly from the way he bit at them with nerves. His hand shook as he brought the cigarette up to his lips, inhaling deeply and letting the thick smoke fill his lungs. The light of the moon and the dim street lamps danced across his features, highlighting the strong curve of his jaw as he grit his teeth, the steep slope of his nose, the deep furrow of his brow.
You approach him slowly as he sits on the edge of the window, his feet dangling down to the fire escape. You lean against the doorframe, arms folded across your chest as you study him.
“Can’t sleep?”
His expression softens, all attention now on you. He looks on affectionately, admiring the way his T-shirt hits your hips, the pale blue panties just visible under the hem.
“Hey. C’mere.” He discards the cigarette, letting it fall through the cracks of the fire escape and holds out his hand to you. He gives you a small smile. It’s unconvincing, doesn’t reach his sad blue eyes, but he’s trying. “Why’re you up, sweetheart? Should be in bed, it’s late.”
“I could say the same to you.”
You take his hand and he pulls you closer, making room to settle you on his lap. The night air is cold against your bare legs but Carmy’s skin is always inexplicably warm to the touch. His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you tight against his chest.
“I’m just, ah… thinkin’.”
“Mmhmm,” you hum softly in acknowledgment, your palms pressed against the bicep that’s cradling your tummy. “About what?”
He hesitates to answer your question, his body stiffening and pulling you tighter before he finally relaxes.
“Mikey.” You nod softly, pressing your forehead against his cheek. “It’s his birthday soon.”
It’s always hard to know what to say when these things come up. This is only the second birthday of Mikey’s that you’d been with Carmy. Last year he had chosen to isolate, sleep the day away in his bed and pretend it didn’t exist. This year you wanted it to be different.
“Why don’t we do something for him?” You offer softly, caressing your hand across the veiny skin of his forearm. “We could bake a cake. Blow out the candles and make a wish for him.”
Carmy sighed, nuzzling his nose into the soft hair at the nape of your neck. He breathed in a few times, the sweet scent of your shampoo and perfume filling his senses.
“Maybe.”
That was enough for now. You crawl carefully off of his lap and back into the apartment, keeping your hand wrapped around his wrist. You tug softly, a small comforting smile on your lips.
“Let’s go to bed.”
Carmy didn’t resist your pull, letting you tug him inside and back to bed. He made a mental note to close the window as soon as you drifted off again. He knew that sleep wouldn’t come for him tonight but right now, settled in the soft bed beside you, your breathing calm and steady, the angry voices in his head seemed to get just a little quieter.
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fatesmono · 9 months
Text
carmen berzatto hcs
✮⋆˙ warnings : language
✮⋆˙ readers gender is female :3
✮⋆˙ a.n : this is my first post so pls go easy on me, just some headcannons + little lines i think he would say if you two were dating
✮⋆˙ enjoy loves !! <33333
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✩ only drinks black coffee , saw what your order was one time and almost had a heart attack
✩“you’re just drinking caramel…why?”
✩ loves going thrifting with you, you helped him find vintage jeans one time and he almost fell in love with you then and there
✩ the eye contact ??? mans will hold eye contact with you for minutes and not understand why you’re getting flustered over it
✩bonus : he was taught to always keep eye contact with those he respected and doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t respect you
✩ loves when you try his food, you genuinely just love to eat and won’t pick out random bullshit to criticize abt his food
✩ “can you try this for me ?”
✩ hates when you call him chef after dating, will let you be the only one to call him “carmy” in the kitchen (besides richie), loves when you call him "carm" 
✩ using any pet names will land you in his office for a make out session, you called him “baby” one time by habit and spent the next hour on his desk making out until tina had to collect you two
✩ “can you make a shopping list for me ?”
✩ will gladly teach you and specifically asks you before he cooks if you want to watch him and will explain every little step and smiles at your blatant confusion on what “blanching” is
✩ he stopped smoking specifically for you, you two kissed one time and you slightly cringed at the taste and he immediately went out and bought nicotine patches along with gum and rolled his eyes at richie comments 
✩ will not let ANYONE comment on you, will not hesitate to beat the living shit out of someone for a slick comment on your presence 
✩ “i don’t give a fuck what they think of you, my love. you’re my girlfriend and that's all that matters”
✩ “i could make that for you”
✩ never thought about starting a family until he met you, you helped him with a kid’s party gig and he saw how easily you handled the kids (“little shits” as richie called them) and he knew then and there you would be the perfect mother
✩ you cut yourself one time during prep and he immediately ran over to check on you once he heard your little wince.
✩ “idc if its little, i need to make sure you're okay”
✩ loves the smell of your perfume and keeps going out to buy that specific one whenever he wants to get you a gift.
✩ secretly loves physical contact; you wrapped your arms around him while he cooked one time and now he can’t cook without you touching him in some way
✩ only cries around you, hearing you tell him that it’s going to be alright makes him melt every time
✩ you told him once that you could bartend/worked as a foh a year ago and immediately put you on the staff (couldn’t care what anyone had to say about it)
✩ loves hugging you, there's something about how soft your skin is that he can’t help but just embrace you the second he sees you
✩ rarely uses your real name, stopped using it the day after you two began dating
✩ “baby i can do the dishes tonight”
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thebearer · 10 months
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the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.
my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!
contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3
"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.
The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"
"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"
Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.
"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.
"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.
"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.
"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.
"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.
Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.
Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.
You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."
Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"
"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"
"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.
"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.
"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."
"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.
"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"
"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."
"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.
"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."
"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.
Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.
Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.
"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"
"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."
Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.
Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"
Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"
"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."
"Carmy-"
"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.
Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.
Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"
"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.
"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"
"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"
"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.
Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.
Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.
"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's
"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."
Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."
"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"
Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."
You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"
"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."
"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.
You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."
"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.
"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."
"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.
He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.
You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.
Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.
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thecapricunt1616 · 7 days
Text
Patchouli - (C.B. oneshot)
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♡ Summary: carm is a munch. What else do you need to know?
♡ W/C: 1300
♡ Posted Date: 4/20/24 (blaze it)
♡ A/N: pure porn lol (prequel to Peonies)
♡ Warnings for BTC: smut. Pussy eating ass smut. this is fully unedited because I’m a lazy sack of shit we die like men.
➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡
➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡
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Carmy was nothing short of addicted to the taste of your pussy.
Like - he nearly found it embarrassing for Christ’s sake. He would get hard thinking about it, Jesus, his fucking mouth watered.
He’d tried the best food in the whole world- the most talented chefs would nearly beg for him to taste their art - but nothing was more decadent than your homemade liquor on his tongue.
He worked extra late on Friday evenings, since it was the busiest night at the restaurant. Date nights, birthday celebrations, any celebration- really that was big enough to warrant going to one of the only Michelin star restaurants in Chicago usually happened Fridays.
Carmen would stumble in - long after you’d fallen asleep, albeit cursing himself for not being home earlier before you’d fallen asleep to your true crime shows, so you’d kneel at his feet as you usually did, and untie his sneakers for him, before gently coaxing him out of the shoes like the earth-ridden angel you were since his back was fucking aching after his near 16 hour day.
He would silently slink into the bathroom, take a quick shower - just enough to scrub off the dirt, sweat, and kitchen smell from the day. Before he’d carefully pad to bed and do whatever he could to assure you felt oh so good to start off your solo-weekend together.
Carmy would come into the bedroom, damp, dripping curls from his shower, and ever so gently crawl between your sleeping supple, thick thighs. He felt welcome. As if you were asking him- no. Begging him- to devour your sweet silky luscious heat as soon as he’d got through the door.
This was coming home, at least to him- his true home was between your thighs, sucking and lapping at your folds until the both of you were sore. When you’d whine about it in the morning, he’d kindly make up for it and place the gentlest, most filthy kisses to your mound and nether lips, whispering sweet sorrys to your cunt and ‘promising to be gentler with her next time’ - he never was.
He hummed gently, dragging his heavy, knife calloused fingers over your clit. Your hips inadvertently jerked into his hand, it was only natural.
There would be times he would just simply lay there after an orgasm of yours, in a filthy, horny trance, thrusting his expert fingers oh so carefully into your seeping (embarrassingly wet) and over sensitive hole - slow and light due to the muscle being so so overused, almost achingly so - before taking them out and spreading the digits to see how sticky and messy you were.
“mmm someone was playin’ with herself before I got home?” He said, just barely a whisper.
He pressed his lips to yours, before gently taking the right one into his mouth and sucking the overly sensitive flesh between his lips. His tattooed hands gently rub over your thighs, squeezing the skin, hard enough to leave bruises, and his eyes fluttering shut, every stress of the day melting away. It was as if the man had an oral fucking fixation with your clit, with your folds. The way he’d suck and flick and kiss them - it was like he was playing a goddamn game.
He eagerly spread your lips with his ring and middle finger admiring how wet you were. “Absolutely - how dirty mmm? My filthy little girl” he he whispered, tonguing the wetness over your weeping hole and holding back a moan at your sweet, musky flavor.
Carmy relished in the way your core clenched around nothing, and the sweetest most gentle whimper fell from your lips. “Shhhh” he cooed, placing a kiss to your clit that made your thigh twitch
“I’m takin care’f ya’ - don’worry” he said softly, licking a hot wet stripe from the curve of your ass to the very top of your slit, flicking his tongue over your clit in the way that made you shiver.
Even in your sleep, you widened your legs for him to give better access to the delicious sensation that was lapping up the moisture that was starting to drip and tickle. It wasn’t long until you were roused, a small sleepy smirk coming to your lips.
“Mmmm thanks Bear” you muttered, lazily finding his curls and gently pushing them off his forehead. He reached his hand up to your stomach, palm up to you, lightly wiggling his fingers on your flesh. Allthough you refused to open your eyes, you felt the action and knew what he wanted.
You found his hand easily, lacing your fingers together and pulling his hand to your lips, kissing each knuckle as he kissed and sucked your folds. As he nudged your clit with his nose you gasped lightly, looking down at him in the dim light.
“Yes- like that baby- feels good, work ok lovey?” You gently tug his curls and he looked up at you, lustblown eyes and a wet nose he looked like a puppy this way.
“Mm. Ok. Marcus f’got a huge cake order. Kinda’a mess” he muttered before sticking out his tongue, slack jawed and adorable, slobbering over your pussy like a man starved.
You nearly giggled at the action but couldn’t as a moan passed your lips you couldn’t hold in if you tried. “Such a good puppy” you moaned quietly “so good t’me Carmy, I fuckin love you” you gasped, thighs nearly smushing his cheeks as he nipped at the sensitive flesh
“That’s new” he hummed, kissing your clit as he reached down with his other hand and slipped 2 fingers easily in your dripping entrance. Your back arched off the bed, electricity shooting through your thighs and abdomen, core clenching around his fingers, nearly sucking him in.
“Cus’y so good bear. Such a good boy” you praised, gasping as he starts flicking his tongue over your clit “shhh-ahh! Mmm! Thas’it. Thaaaatsit” you slurred, the coil in your stomach heating up and threatening to snap- and soon.
He moans into your clit, the vibration causing your hips to jerk and he leans his strong forearm around your luscious hips. “Still” he mumbled the order, thrusting his tongue into your hole.
“Jesus fuck! Don’t fuckin st- ohhhh” you let out nothing short out of a pornographic film like wanton desperate filthy moan
“Cmon, cum f’me pretty girl” he urged gently, replacing his tongue with his fingers and nuzzling your clit with his nose like a man starved as he sucked and nibbled your folds.
You whined, squeezing the hand you were still holding tightly. “N-now-nnnmmmmhhh” your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, the aftershock being the strongest part. His lightest touch was causing you to jerk and twitch under him at the overstimulation.
“Shhhh angel. Relax. Relax” he coaxed, rubbing over your stomach with a light touch. “Such a sweet girl. My sweet girl” he caressed your thighs with a sweet touch for a few minutes, pressing gentle kisses to your skin before getting up.
You’d inevitably whine and beg him to come back, your core feeling cold and neglected without his presence. “Time f’sleep gorgeous.” He’d gently pet your hair, pulling you into his chest.
“I want French toast for breakfast.” You muttered softly, nuzzling into his chest, smiling to yourself at his tickly chest fuzz.
“Ye?’ We got bacon too, went shoppin’ fore I came home” he muttered into the skin of your neck tiredly.
Now that he’d fulfilled his daylong craving- he was exhausted and ready to sleep as soon as he could.
“The best boyfriend. Can I wake you up t’morrow with my mouth?” You asked, gently rubbing your hand over his half hard bulge.
“Please. Y’never gotta ask princess”
Fin
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gh0stsp1d3r · 5 months
Note
Imagine Carmy’s shy gf abruptly kissing him (usually he initiates bc she’s a shy bby) for the first time while at Family, like Carmy is passionately talking about The Bear’s new menu with his staff, and Y/n is just looking at him with heart eyes, heart about to burst with love, and she gives him a kiss. Her eyes going wide as she realizes what she just did and how the whole room went silent shsh what a cutie
awww!!! also so sorry this took me months to finish ): it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while and I’m trying to clear them
𝒮𝒽𝓎
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“Just a fair warning… she is quiet.” Carmy said, when someone had brought her up.
The whole staff was the opposite of quiet, especially Richie. He was nervous about you meeting them, but you’ve been dating for a while now and decided it’s time.
You have met Richie, and he was okay. Although he did keep being creepy, and Carmen had to pull him away.
“Very.” Richie added with a snicker.
And the rest of them thought that Carmy and Richie were exaggerating, but when they met you, they wondered how you were with Carmy.
He was loud, with extreme anger issues, and a big passion for his work. They now all sat down, waiting for you while talking amongst themselves.
You entered the room quietly, giving Carmen a small smile as they all turned to you. Your cheeks heated up at that, giving a small wave.
“Hey!” You heard multiple hi’s and hey’s at the same time, Carmen had a chair pulled up next to him luckily.
“So, how’d you guys meet?” Sydney asked while eating.
You looked to Carmen who just motioned for you to answer.
“A mutual friend.” You said.
She nodded “nice, nice.”
“Uhh.. y/n, isn’t it?”
You nodded at the older woman.
“So, what’s it like being with this hothead?” She pointed at Carmy with her fork, making him roll his eyes as you laughed.
“Alright, I also wanted to talk about the new menu.” Carmy said, interrupting the questions.
“What were you guys thinking, huh?” He asked them, and they all began to talk to him.
He talked back with them, although you didn’t quite listen. He was so passionate with every word, and it made you smile and you looked at him. After listening for a while and he stopped talking, you gave him a kiss.
He was shocked at the affection, but kissing you back anyways.
Everyone was silent, eyes going wide at the display of affection. You both forgot everyone else until Richie loudly cleared his throat.
“Disgusting.” He rolled his eyes.
Your cheeks heated up, and you hid into yourself as everyone erupted into laughter. Carmen had a tint of pink on his cheeks as well.
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answer2jeff · 3 months
Text
not a lot, just forever.
carmen's opening up, but he wishes you'd do the same.
warnings: fluff + angst. fem!reader who is also a big reader (mostly poetry) and occasionally journals. unestablished relationship (friends to lovers, mutual pinning.) very touchy-feely. writing is overly detailed and so painfully poetic you might vomit.
word count : 2.4k
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hey. i think i left my book at ur place. 11:15pm.
sorry, just got home. i can bring it over now 11:36pm.
oh yeah that'd be great! thank you. (sorry for the inconvenience) 11:38pm.
no worries 11:41pm.
lmk when ur here. xx 11:45pm.
Carmen had some idea of what that meant: xx. He knew what it meant when girls signed notes with xoxo in replacement of red kiss marks and strokes of long acrylic nails through their secret lovers hair—not that he ever received one, no. But your occasional visits practically felt just as intoxicating. If the order was x-o-x-o, and the worded statement being hugs-and-kisses, then xx must've been hugs, right? Two hugs. Like the one you shared the first time you met at Natalie's baby shower. He smelled like authentic Italian cologne with a hint of cigarette smoke diluted by dish soap and warm water. His grasp was hesitant, but ever-all-consuming once his shoulders relaxed. It was like metamorphosis. The way he wrapped his arms underneath while you tossed yours up around his neck, his gold chain feeling cold and hard against your skin, unlike the rest of him.
He was an under-hugger. He kept the ones he cared for unsuspectingly close to him. Such physical touch felt familiar. Maybe you'd just remembered stories and inside jokes about him through Natalie so well his tenderness and anxious nature was fitting to the idea of him you had in your head.
That was almost 6 months ago. And surprisingly, you'd become pretty good friends. Not that either of you really did friends at your age...but somehow it worked. You'd come to realize that he was so much kinder than anyone painted him out to be. And yet, you never really talked about yourselves.
Not in a way that really mattered, anyway.
The articles you'd written, the interviews you conducted with snobby assholes, the dozens of freelancing jobs with horrific schedules you had before, what you loved about writing and what you hated about the world around you—those were topics of discussion. Carmen's favorite restaurants he ever expanded his career with, the odd relationship he had with his sister that flipped like a rusty switch after highschool, candle scents he loved and bought over and over again despite their poor quality wicks, the first time he got drunk and how he swore he'd never let another drop of alcohol touch his tongue—those were normal methods of late night conversations.
But what about your dream to publish a novel? Or the memoir you read that completely changed your views on love as a whole. What about Carmen's uncle being his only friend his entire life? Oh, how he would've become a starving, broken artist if he ever believed he had enough talent for it. Hell, what about the girl you met in middle school who mysteriously moved away and shared all her secrets on the true meaning of life, death, and everything in between? Why didn't you ever talk about those things? Maybe it was too close, too personal. If he knew you too well, maybe he'd see you as you saw yourself.
Carmen had been thinking about those colored pencils you bought him for his birthday and can't get himself to tell you he uses them every day. Not just to illustrate his dishes...but you, sometimes. Your hair, your smile. He used that photo you begged him to snap of you staring out your window melodramatically with a bowl of pasta carbonara and a glass of bubbling champagne in front of you as reference. How could he ever show you the endless amount of pages containing the essence of your existence in that goddamn sketch book?
Questions. Questions. Questions.
Thoughts of potential ate away at your patience with every pacing step you took around your bedroom.
Answers. Answers. Answers.
"Do people even have deep conversations over pasta and wine anymore?" You trace the pad of your middle finger against the rim of your glass, your elbow propped up on the counter so your chin can rest in your hand.
Carmen draws his eyebrows together, the little crinkle in his forehead showing. You glance up at it and struggle to stifle a growing smile. He cocks his head before barring his bottom lip behind his teeth, picking at the skin with the tips of his fingers. That signature pose; where his left arm is crossed against his chest and his hand holds the elbow of his right arm. It's a habit you almost immediately picked up on. It told you time and time again that he was nervous.
Thinking. Contemplating.
"Is that, like—" he breaths a chuckle, but it comes out more as an accidental huff than anything. Smug bastard, he is. Especially when he drags his gold chain across his neck as it loops around the finger that once picked at the dry skin of his mouth.
"Your way of..asking me for a deep conversation over wine and pasta?"
Ah. He's called you out. The one thing he couldn't shake was his annoyance when you were so completely and utterly vague about your wants, your needs, your desires. Hell, Carmen Berzatto would wrap a lasso around the moon, or any planet you put your claim on, and drag it down so it could be yours and only yours. Only if it meant you'd stop feeling so complacent. You knew this. At least to some extent. His little favors buttered you up until you a mushy mess of adoration. What really scratched at your urges and your patience was how blissfully unaware he was of his show of affection toward you. Part of you feared that if you ever told him how much it caressed that bruised, fruit fly infested, rotted spot of your heart so gently it felt like a kiss, despite the sting, he'd stop.
"Y'know what? Yeah. I'm asking."
You shrug your shoulders and stare down at your nearly finished bowl of penne with vodka sauce. Stabbing a stack of pasta onto your fork and the clinking sound of the metal banging against the ceramic bowl seemed to fill the silence before Carmen finally spoke again, though with much hesitation.
"Okay," he barely whispers, nodding his head and fumbling to take a seat in the barstool underneath the counter. Sitting across from you gives him the constant justification to just look at you.
Starting off this session with a question was quite a kicker.
"Y'know Sade Zabala? Author of that book you brought back for me."
Carmen blinks slowly. He pretends to dig deep in his memory to identify the name, wondering if you'd ever mentioned her. But he fails, pulling his lips taught, so as to say 'I've got nothin.' The sound of your dramatic sigh and the 'tsk' sound of your lips separating makes his palms sweat.
"She's a wonderful writer. A poet. I mean, really, her book Coffee and Cigarettes was one of the most gut-wrenchingly beautiful and altruistic collections of.. of love, pain, rejuvenation—all of it."
If he was completely honest, he doesn't have a clear image of what those words meant. But it doesn't seem to matter what comes out of your mouth or how you phrase it. Your use of specific language fascinates him. There is nothing else he can do in this moment but nod and allow the corners of his lips to curl into a smile strong enough to make the apples of his cheeks go pink.
"I'll tell you one line of one of the greatest poems she had ever written in that book. In the humble opinion of yours truly, of course."
"Sure," he assures you. "Of course, of course."
"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."
Saliva pools in your mouth as you speak the quote, the taste of every vowel washing down your throat as if you dedicate them to Carmen himself. Which, in bare and naked truth, you do. The only thing you could ever ask of Carmen was to let himself tear himself open with the hope and belief that you would crawl into his fears and convert them into profound discoveries. And the trust that you would not stitch him up with your own hands, but rather clasp your fists around the circumference of his wrists as he carefully closes the wound his trajectory of life has created.
"Wow." Carmen's eyes go another centimeter wider, the language still processing in his mind. He interprets it over and over again.
"I know. And—" you set your fork down so you can have complete focus as you recite your following question, "I was just wondering what you'd say if someone told you that, y'know? What would you tell them?"
Vulnerability, he thinks. Fuck.
"I mean...fuck that's—that's a good question. Um.." he chews on the flesh of his bottom lip once again, looking above at the warm glow of the light that hangs over your island counter as if he'll find the answer up there.
"I don't even like the good stuff about me, so. I'm not sure how to, like, articulate that? Is that the word?"
Now the quickening pace has started.
"And what do you think the good stuff about you is?"
Probing questions like this are somewhat too-close-for-comfort inquiries for friends. But Carmen would be stupid to mind it. He relishes in it, actually. With much guilt. But it's tainted with the secret pleasure of being cared for by someone he so deeply valued the opinions and thoughts of.
Since the first day you met, Carmen knew he would never go to anyone else for some piece of mind. For some sanity. Or even just for someone to explain the method to his madness. You understood it—what he believed.
"I care a lot, I think. But that's not always practical. It hardly ever is now that I think about it."
"You do. You care so much." You soften your tone, hesitantly reaching for Carmen's tattooed hand that rests on the cold marble counter.
"Sometimes it freaks me out."
"Like, this whole thing, the—the restaurant, where my life is right now, it makes me crazy. But it also keeps me..."
"Human," you finish.
"Yeah, human."
Though it takes him a couple seconds for his digits to not second guess themselves, he gently takes your hand in his. The slow pace in which he intertwines his fingers with yours is enough to kill you.
"Can I tell you something?" Carmen asks.
"Anything."
"You take good care of me. Of everyone, really." . His thumb gently rubs your warm skin, the rough and calloused mounds over his fingerprints soothing you. A deep breath moves in and out from his lungs as he meets your eyes again. This time, he won't look away.
"It's like you were made to just be good."
You smile, but you're not convinced you're certain on what he means. "Thank you, Carm. But—good?"
"I don't know. You're warm. I'm—I'm not like that. I'm not warm."
This, this is where truths as bare as untraveled paws of loyal dogs that roamed the streets in search of security uncover themselves.
"What? Of course you are." You lean forward, feeling your heart pound so hard it could leap out of your body.
"I don't think I am."
To think—no, to know that Carmen Berzatto cannot share at least one feature of his layered soul he genuinely likes. God, that pains you. You could write a million sonnets listing every little thing you adored about your friend.
"Carmen, you—" you sigh, your head dropping for a fraction of a second. "You have such a big heart. You're not cold or...or out of reach, or anything like that, okay?"
Even with Carmen's tendency for rage and his tattoos that displayed yet another callback to his culinary career—his way of speaking: so gentle and unsupported, you're certain that he is something so much greater than just a chef. He took care of people too. His staff, his clientele, his family—of you. Whether it was home cooked meals when you were sick, or when you needed to complain about Natalie. Carmen listened. Not as her brother, but as your friend. You don't really remember when you started to regularly see each other during his leisure. Either at the restaurant, or a coffee shop next door to your complex, and eventually his living room.
"This is so fucking selfish, but—"
No, Carmen. You could never be selfish.
But you let him be hungry. You want him to be hungry. Starving for reassurance. Because you'll feed him until the empty space in his existence is filled.
"I just wish you'd look after yourself the way you take care of me. Like, fuck, hearing you look at yourself and point out all this shit that nobody notices—which I wish they fucking would—because I notice them and I still love those things about you is..."
Oh, what a beautiful mind you've always had. He'll always store all the love you can't have for yourself in his own heart. Your wit, your intelligence, your smile, even down to the way you have to readjust the grip of your fountain pen as you inscribe your thoughts into your journal
"Wrong." He completed his thought with just one word. "I don't like it. It makes me sad," he says again.
That breaks you. So much that a tear sure to be followed by many more wells up in your waterline. The glisten of the salty liquid in your eyes startles the wonderful man across you. You can see the immediate guilt in his face, his blue eyes filled with concern and regret. But you shake your head, holding onto his forearm as he raises his hand to your cheek to catch the falling tear. Fuck being friends. Fuck small talk. Fuck jokes and laughs and cigarettes and poor communication that just ended in silence.
This was here and now. There was no going back.
With that, you cupped Carmen's own cheek, leaning closer and closer to his lips before he desperately kissed you. His free hand anchored itself on your shoulder blade while yours crawled to the back of his head to burry itself in his golden curls. Your taste was everything. Salty with pasta with a sweet aftertaste that echoed from your fruity lip balm, followed by a final twinge of bitterness from your glass of red wine. He tasted of comfort, of acceptance, something you'd never felt against your tastebuds from the previous years of the dating pool. With every separation of your lips to swallow gasps of air, the further the two of you hovered over the counter in a needy attempt to get closer.
You didn't need answers. Not a lot from him either. Just him. Forever.
tags: @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria @diorrfairy
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astermath · 10 months
Text
nemesis; part two.
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pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.
♡ landing page ♡
word count: 4.9K
tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!
notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))
lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
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Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.
With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.
So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?
Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.
It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.
Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.
To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.
“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”
“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.
“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”
Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?
Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.
“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.
“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.
“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.
“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.
If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?
“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.
“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”
His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?
“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”
“Yeah?”
“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.
He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.
“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.
“Goodnight, chef.”
“Night.”
He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.
He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.
It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.
He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.
He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.
He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.
Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.
Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.
Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.
Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?
[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.
[carmen]: well
[carmen]: I want to apologise
[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this
[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person
[carmen]: if you’d let me
[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk
[carmen]: please
The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.
But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.
That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.
You wondered what that meant.
Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.
Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.
It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.
He had no choice but to look now.
Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?
You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.
“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.
“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.
It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.
“Do you want a coffee?”
“Sorry I was late.”
You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.
“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”
“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”
“Hm?”
“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.
You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.
You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.
Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.
Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.
“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.
“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.
“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.
“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.
“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”
“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”
“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”
“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.
“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.
“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.
"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.
"You don't do this often, do you?"
"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"
"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.
"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“
“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.
“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”
“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”
“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?
“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”
“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.
"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."
His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.
"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.
"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"
"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.
"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.
"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.
"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."
Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.
You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.
“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”
“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.
“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”
Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”
“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”
“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.
“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”
“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.
“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.
“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”
You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.
“I’m sorry?”
He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.
“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.
“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”
You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.
“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.
“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.
“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”
“…Is that you saying yes?”
“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.
“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.
“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.
Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.
“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”
You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.
He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.
“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.
“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.
“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”
“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.
“That you’re selling them the business.”
“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?
“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”
“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.
“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”
You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”
He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.
He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.
Never with him.
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onestopfanficshop · 11 months
Note
if you still write for carmen, would you mind writing something soft and sweet for him <3
omg anon i'm so sorry this was late 😭 i hope you can forgive me and i hope you like this!
warnings: language, mentions of cut skin and blood, mostly just carmy taking care of you :,)
“Honey, that knife is really fuckin’ sharp. Be careful, yeah?” Carmy warns from the sink.
You roll your eyes, pausing your cutting to look at Carmy pointedly.
“Yes, Chef,” you say exaggeratedly, waving the knife around to punctuate your words. You appreciated his concern, really, but you could handle yourself.
“You know I hate it when you call me that, hon,” he says, smiling softly at you.
You dismiss his protests with a wave of your hand and turn back to the onion you were cutting. There was one little slice of onion left. It was narrow, but you wanted it a bit smaller, so you carefully lined up the knife to split it two.
It all happened so fast you didn’t even process what had happened. It wasn’t until later that realized that you must have pushed the knife down a little too far to the left, and the blade of the knife had sliced cleanly into your left thumb instead of the onion. The blood had come out flowing more freely than drinks at a frat party.
“Shit, shit, shit!” you hissed quietly under your breath. You jerked your hand away, narrowly avoiding dripping blood onto the cutting board and onions slices. Carmy’s head whipped around, and his mouth dropped open when he caught sight of your hand.
"Holy fuck," Carmy exclaims, his eyes getting as round as a dinner plate. He tore off a couple paper towels from the roll on the counter, lifting your wrist with one hand and wrapping your finger with the other.
"Just hold that in place, honey, okay? Keep a shit ton of pressure on it," he instructs you, his voice muffling on the last sentence as he stuck his head in various cabinets. Where did he put that fucking first aid kit?
After finding his cabinet raid unsuccessful, his hands began to fly to the drawers in the kitchen island, jerking them open and not bothering to close them when he didn't find the kit. He frantically rummaged around until he finally found what he was looking for: gauze pads and medical tape.
"Okay, okay, I'm here," Carmy says, carefully unwrapping the now-soaked paper towels from your hand. "Is it still bleeding?"
"I don't know," you say, trying to prevent the lump in your throat from showing in your voice. "I know you said to put pressure but... it just hurt too much to keep pressing down on it. M'sorry," you finish, hot tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. 
"No, no, no, don't apologize. It was an accident, hon. That's all it was," Carmy tells you, squinting at your thumb. He had wrapped the gauze tightly around your finger, and was now putting on the medical tape to keep it in place. "Is it too tight, honey? Is that okay?" he asks, rotating your thumb to examine it further.
You knew that if you opened your mouth to speak, your voice would falter, so you simply shook your head no, forgetting that Carmy's eyes were completely focused on your finger. When he didn't hear a verbal response, he finally looked up at you. And when he did, you sort of lost it. You shook your head again, but hot tears began to run down your cheek.
"Does it hurt real bad, honey?" Carmy asks, eyebrows furrowed with the utmost concern.
"No. I mean- yes, it hurts, but... Carm. You literally told me that the knife was sharp. And I ended up slicing open my thumb three seconds later. Like an absolute idiot," you say, your voice cracking with emotion.
"It wasn't on purpose, though, baby," Carmy replied, furrowing his eyebrows. His hands come up to rest on either side of your face, the pads of his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. "Hey. Can you look at me, hon?" 
You're forced to lift your eyes up to meet Carmy's gaze, and when you see the amount of tenderness in his eyes, it makes the lump in your throat grow even bigger.
“Every single chef I know has sliced themself open at one point. And that’s how you know they’re the real deal. It’s like... it’s basically like a badge of honor. So don’t sweat it, okay?” Carmy says softly, kissing the top of your forehead. “You want me to finish these up for you?” he asks, gesturing to the onions.
“I don’t think you have a choice, Carm. I’m basically incapacitated,” you laugh tearfully, looking at your bloodied thumb.
“Okay,” Carmy chuckles. “Just sit tight. I should have this done in a minute. Do you want some Advil?” 
"No, m'okay," you promise. "Although I think I'm developing an intense hatred for onions now. Fuck onions," you say, chuckling.
Carmy chuckled at that, using his knife to sweep the onions into the pasta sauce he was making. He made his way over to you, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Fuck onions," he said, smiling at you.
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ariisheresstuff · 4 months
Text
Falls and Puddles
Pairings: Dad!Carmy x Mom!Reader
Summary: You and Carmy are watching your 5 year old daughter Kennedy ride her bike in the rain and through the big puddles, however, she ends up losing her balance and falling into a massive puddle crying.
Genre: Fluff + Comfort
Warnings: Crying, mentions of cuts, injuries
MasterList
A/N: My requests are open, have a good day!
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You were standing outside of your porch with Carmy watching Kennedy ride her bike in the puddles while it was raining, she had on her pretty pink rain coat with her pink boots. You leaned into Carmen’s side as he wrapped an arm around you to bring you closer.
“She’s getting better at riding her bike babe.” You said as you looked up at Carmen who had a smile on his face watching Kennedy giggle as the water splashed on her.
“She is, Richie and Ava have been helping her actually.” He said making you smile more
“You never told me.” You said with a tease making Carmen chuckle before placing a kiss on your forehead.
“It’s a secret babe.” You rolled your eyes before lightly laughing as you continued to watch Kennedy.
Kennedy rode her bike through a large puddle before she lost her balance and fell off her bike, straight into the massive puddle. You gasped.
“Shit.” Carmy muttered before quickly going down the steps of the porch and running across the street to Kennedy. You followed him quickly. That’s when you heard the heartbreaking wail of your daughter.
“Daddy!!!” She called out through her sobs as she sat in the puddle all drenched.
“Oh,Kenzie girl c’mere, did you fall?” Carmen cooed as he helped Kennedy up only she raised her arms up wanting to be carried by her dad, Carm quickly picked her up not caring she was getting his clothes drenched.
“Oh honey, are you okay?” You cooed to the crying girl as you picked up her bike following Carm back to the house.
“I-I fell.” Kennedy said through hiccups making your heart break. Carmen frowned as he placed kissed on his little girls head while rubbing her back.
“We’re gonna get you cleaned up okay? I’m sure you don’t have any boo boos though.”
Kennedy wrapped her arms around Carm’s neck as she snuggled into his neck just wanting her dad’s presence. Carmen hummed as he pecked her head.
“You’re okay baby, I promise. It wasn’t your fault, it’s slippery out there yeah?” He cooed as you followed him up the stairs placing her bike on the porch before Carmen placed Kennedy down making her whine.
“Can you sit for me princess? Right here on the step, I’m gonna get the water out of your boots.” Kennedy only shook her head as she whimpered. You frowned.
“Please baby? Daddy is only gonna take the water out of your boots, promise. Please?” You asked her making her whine before she slowly sat down. “Good girl.” You ran a hand through her hair soothing the poor girl.
Carmen room off her boot before placing it upside down as a puddle of water came out her boots. He placed them by the door before picking up Kennedy again. “We’re gonna get you some fresh pair of clothes okay?” Kennedy nodded as Carm went upstairs to her room.
You waited in the living room with a first aid kit just in case she had any cuts. You heard Carmen’s footsteps down the stairs, he was still carrying Kennedy who had a pair of fresh new clothes. Carmen sat by you with Kennedy on his lap who snuggled into his chest still hiccuping. You gave him a sad frown before looking at the little girl.
“Any boo boos?” You asked softly as Carmen rubbed her back as he pecked her head a few times.
“Small cuts on her knee, nothing serious.” Carm said as he pulled her pajama pants up to show you her knee. A minor red cut.
“Which bandaid you want baby?” You said as you pulled out a little box of Barbie and Disney Princess bandaids, Kennedy sniffled before pointing to the Barbie ones. You smiled before taking a bandaid and placing it on the small cut, you kissed her knee before gently rubbing it. “All better.” You sighed making Kennedy smile a bit.
“You smiling?” Carmen said in a teasing tone making the little girl smile more, he tickled her making her squeal making you smile at the moment.
Carmen then stood up, picking up Kennedy before looking down at you. “I’m gonna start dinner, Kenzie is deciding what we eat tonight. Aren’t we princess?” Carmen cooed making Kennedy hide her face in his neck making you chuckle a bit.
“So, what’s for dinner chef?” You said as you both looked a the little girl who then looked down at the floor shyly.
“Ice cream and waffles.” She said softly with a smile, you looked at Carmen who had a smirk on his face. You shook your head.
“You heard the chef babe.” You crossed you arms before smiling at the two.
“Ice cream and waffles it is.” You placed a kiss on the girls head making her giggle before you cupped Carmen’s face and placed a loving kiss on the corner of his lips making Kennedy turn away in disgust. You and Carmen just laughed as you continued to tease the little girl by placing loving pecks on each other.
Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz
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