#carmen berzatto x fluff

[neonovember]

hiiii

could you write carmy x reader where she’s a high school friend and carmy always had a crush on her (but he thought she had a crush on mikey) ???? like maybe richie brings her up, and that she’s still in town and SINGLE and carmy gets red like a tomato and ??? richie makes her visit the beef and candy almost has a heart attack?? idk give me some in love carmen !!

pretty pleaseee and thank u

so I got this request and I immediately thought of swim by chase atlantic, and specifically the line that goes;

“I’ve been drowning for a minute, your body keeps pulling me in” 

And holy shit if that isn’t Carmen in his denial-in-love with a long time friend era, I don't know what is. Carmen tries too hard to forget you, but you've marked permanently, you've ruined him for anyone else so can you blame him for waiting for you all this time?

Seriously though this request was so good! I got a bit carried away and turned into a 2 part series that may or may not have drabbles added to the universe…I really hope this isn't just a load of word vomit you don't want to read lmao. I just love their dynamic so much, and also FRIDAY DINNERS AT THE BEEF IS CANON OKAY.

Golden Boy

part one of 2

warnings: miscommunication (i know i'm sorry), friends to lovers, carmen and the reader have horrible communication skills and don't know how to call, angst, anxiety

a/n: part two will be up hopefully tomorrow so look out! it may or may not include a smut scene 😈

p.s, listen to swim whilst reading this you'll thank me later

You sat hunched in the tight enclosure of the classroom desk chairs, the once loud conversations fluttering across the huddled groups of classmates and friends that stood against tables and chairs now coming to a standstill.

The air of anxious trepidation falls across the atmosphere of the damp classroom, the windows that had been opened to let the air in felt thin as you and the rest of the students you had known for half a decade waited for that familiar ring of the bell.

The bell that would solidify your last day in this classroom, in these run down halls, in the school you had first stumbled into anxious and oblivious at thirteen. 

Your heart ached at the nostalgia of it, and you can't bear to cast your gaze to your friends who had begun to sniffle, like they were holding back tears, the grandfather clock your geography teacher insisted on keeping ticked on as it always did, and whilst you had spent years burning holes through the glass, willing for it to go faster, your one dying wish is for the seconds to tick by in minutes. 

You weren’t ready, it ran straight through you, all this time leading up, from when you had first learnt your desire to pursue architecture till the moment you finished that last sentence on your final exams, you felt you would be filled with joy at the sound of your true departure into adulthood and college.

And yet, you felt like a kid again, learning how to ride a bicycle without the training wheels, trying to reach the fifth monkey bar, falling headfirst into the dirt ground of the field when you had thought you were more flexible then you truly were. 

You didn’t want to leave, you didn't want to leave this place, this place of memories and friends and people you knew and loved. And it was as if God was listening, cause the resounding echo of the school bell rang through the halls and it was as if he said ‘fuck you anyway’.

You gather the haphazard books and papers laying across your desk, you had purposefully delayed packing in order to waste as much time in this memory as possible, before adulthood would take it away and make it something of the past. You hear your friends calling your name, and you tell them to go ahead as you make your way to your teachers desk.

“Hey Mr Jefferson” You say to your teacher has begun to bid goodbye to the leaving students

Your teacher looks up at you with a tight smile, sadness washes over the wrinkles and creases of her features, her auburn hair falling in short waves at her shoulder and her olive lipstick wearing down. You have to swallow to stop the tears from dropping. Your Geography teacher, whilst not teaching Art, had been the catapult to realizing your fascination with Architecture and design. She had even helped tell your parents, who had been set on the idea of you going into Law or Medicine or anything other than creative arts. 

“You’ll do amazing, I believe it because I see how hard you try. Don’t look back at this place, leave with the door wide open and come back only when you want to design me a house” Your Teacher replies with a grin, and before you can reply shes shuffling through her drawers, before pulling out a sketchbook that has been aged and stained with use over the years.

“What’s this?” You ask, twisting the book in your hand, it was good quality, despite being old, it felt like an heirloom.

“It’s one of my sketchbooks I had during college, maybe some of my late night sketches fuelled by coffee and donuts might inspire you”

“I couldn't possible-”

“Yes you could, hell whatever you create will probably be 10 x greater than whatever is in there” Your teacher cuts you off with a chuckle, and you hug the notebook tight against your chest before hugging her goodbye.

You step into the familiar walls of your high school hallways, crowds of seniors running to find their friends and hug them for possibly the last time, test papers and report cards left trampled on the ground, it's chaos, but you love it and the sight almost pulls tears down your waterline.

You walk towards your locker, before you recognize the familiar wisps of blond curls catch your eyesight. Carmen.  You considered him one of your closest friends, bonding together over a love of game** and your equal hatred of your Period 4 Calculus teacher.

Carmen didn't have much when I came to be friends, and after he met you, it didn't really get to him anymore, he had you now, and you were more than enough. Over the years you had gotten close to every part of Carmen's life, Mickey, Richie, Sugar, they were all people you regarded as family.

But there was something unsaid between the both of you, it was like there was something beyond friendship, but the embers had just gathered and had left unignited.

He’s gathering his things from his locker, shoving them into a bag in that messy way he is, and he slams the locker with a jolt.

You're standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, classmates and other seniors running by you in confusion, your friends calling your name annoyed, but it's all muffled, it all doesn't matter because it's Carm and god your heart aches so bad. 

You see Carmen and he sees you, stopping a few meters away from you, and a moment of recognition washes over him as he gazes with those cerulean blues. There's grief in the way you look at each other, tears streaming down your cheek as you try to smile at him, realising this might be the last time you see him, forever, off to an Art school in New York, leaving him behind. You feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest and he shakes his head, his eyebrows scrunching up as he steps closer so that he’s only a whisper from you.

He brings his hand up, brushing a strand and tucking in behind your ear, eyes strained as he wipes your tears away painfully. He moves closer, so that his breath is against your neck and whispers

“Thought you told me you'd punch me in the stomach if I cried on the last day” Carmen whispers into your eyes with a grin that breaks through the tears that cause his eyes to swirl in colour's of waves.

His words make you laugh and cry at the same time, and you shake your head as you reach for his arm, and playfully hit your stomach with it. Carmen rests it against your waist, looking up to you in a pained expression, his eyes shift to the notebook grasped tight in your hands

“New sketchbook? That..doesn't look new” Carmen says, turning his head to examine the old book more closely.

“One of Mrs Jefferson’s, her sketches are..their fucking amazing” You sigh, running your hand across the folded spine of the sketch book.

“Thought teachers weren't meant to have favourites” Carmen shoots out, a playful grin on his lips

“Hmm, well they aren't supposed to tell you exactly” You banter with a giggle, you flick through the pages of the book, half drawn sketches in grey lead and ballpoint, Carmen tracing his fingers gently across the ingrained lines and shades.

“God you're something, you know that?” Carmen says, all of a sudden, and when you look up you realise he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“Bear..” You breathe out.

“I don't know how I'm going to-, I, it's all so much” You exhale, waving your arms around this place that has held so many memories, so much of your past kept in the creaks and cracks of plastered walls and lockers

“You're the only person in this goddamn place that's going to make something out of themselves, I bet my entire life on it Bug. You're going to do amazing, in that big city, you’re going to show em’' Carmen replies, grasping you against his touch tight. You look up at him, trying to memorise every dip and curve of his features, the curl of his hair that shone honey in the sun, those eyes that were always searching, and the small cut on his forehead where he fell off his skateboard that one summer evening.

“Don’t say goodbye”

“Okay” Your tongue feels like deadweight in your mouth. what if i never see you again?

“You say goodbye and it's the end. Just..don’t” I can't breathe carmy.

You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, pressing your nose into his shirt to smell the scent of patchouli and cigarettes he always carried, you want to tell him to come with you, to pack an overnight bag and run with you forever, but the words don’t taste right when you try to speak and you see yourself letting him go, and turning away with a shaky step.

Turn back Carmen whispers, so softly that only the gods above and the wind around him can hear it

You feel an urge to turn back, it speaks to you from within, and before you can stop yourself, your neck cranes, turning your body to get one last look at your golden boy before time would take him forever. 

Time would age him into a memory forever.

Carmen feels this tension leave his shoulders at the same time his heart shatters, you will find each other again, even if it was in another universe, where you're sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, going over groceries together with the afternoon light casting its glow across you. He will find you, he will find you and he won’t let go this time. 

*

“Honestly Ma, it’s fine, I’ll get the movers to come in a little early”. You groan into the phone pressed to your ear, papers and unresolved bills are left scattered across your dining room table and you have this itch that's begun to turn chronic somewhere you can’t reach.

You take a moment to look around your apartment, now barren of furniture, and filled instead with boxes of badly organised stuff you've accumulated over the years. This place, albeit small, had been your home ever since you stepped out of the yellow cabbed taxi on your first day in New York, and whilst it wasn't pretty, you felt a pang of guilt leaving it all behind. These walls had seen you through it all, the late night study cram’s, the breakdowns, the accomplishments, the one night stands. You'd miss her, but maybe you were just a nostalgic person.

You’ve made a life in New York, but you felt misplaced, like pieces of yourselves were scattered across the states. Chicago kept a part of you, and it was only when you had gotten the chance to move back home, did it click. You missed your city. And you had cut your lease and emptied out the last of your savings without a second thought.

Now all that was left was tying up loose ends and making the trip down. It was funny, in a way. You had run to New York to pursue architecture, and it brought you back to the very same place you had left, there was a certain trepidation when you thought of Chicago, it held so much of your past, in its city streets and evergreen trees, and you don’t know if you were quite ready to face those memories again.

*

It still smelled the same. You itch your nose, sniffling against the blooming scent of cocoa and caramel from the Chicago roads, all this time, and all that you can tell is how it still smelt like maple leaves and chocolate. It was comforting, and it felt like the warm embrace of a childhood friend that had stayed sitting on the corner of your suburban street corner all this time.

“Thank you Mae, really, I got the call last minute in New York to come back here and if it weren't for you, I’d be moving back into my old bedroom at my parents” You reply, gratitude filling every word. It was true, your friend had swooped in the second you called, fixing you up with a lease and an apartment with her realtor links. She came in a clutch, and she had made you promise to never leave her again in exchange.

“Oh shush doll, of course. This is probably payment for all the times I’ve crashed at yours anyway” Mae winks, the bracelets on her wrist clinking against each other. She didn't look like a typical realtor, more like a bohemian solo-traveller with her filly skirts and auburn red hair.

“I’m not going to let a degree transform my entire wardrobe, my clothes are antiques, their heirlooms, they tell a story” 

She had told you once, one late night on the rooftop of your New York apartment, sipping cheap wine and passing a blunt between you both. You wish you had known yourself as much as she did then.

She had visited you a couple times in New York, coming up for work and spending the time at yours instead of spending thousands on an Airbnb, but it had been a while since you've seen her, and all of a sudden you remember how much you missed her laugh.

“I’ve got some time to spend before it’s all hand on deck” You reply, placing the last of your boxes onto the empty wooden floor of the living room.

“Oh yeah? Can’t believe you’re gonna design a whole building on Michigan Av’, your a fucking inspiration Bug” Mae sighs in adoration, and you giggle, the feeling of embarrassment filling you at the mention of your reason back home.

You never got used to the praise and adoration you received over the years, despite your many accolades and awards, you still felt like that hopelessly broke architect student giving up lunch to pay rent. You didn’t remember when things started to change. When did things start to change?

“You know, if you’ve got time, you should check out the Farmers Market near River North” Mae replies, whilst flicking through her phone

“The one on Division Street?” You reply, you had a faint memory of the long strip of stalls filled with fresh produce, food and the rest of the little trinkets that were sold since you were born on the pleated table cloth of sheltered booths.

“That’s the one, this guy named Samson? Makes the best fucking bearclaw in the entire United States. Tell him you're a friend of mine and he'll hook you up…you know since you can't afford it” Mae replies playfully, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you hook up with him or something?” You poke back, Mae had the tendency to know everyone in Chicago, from the mailman to the old woman you’d see feeding the bids on a park bench.

“Yeah, actually I did. Not like you could relate, how long has it been, hm?” Mae replies, stepping forward to whisper down at your pants.

“I’m so sorry she hasn't been taking care of you. What are you, mummify her?” Mae looks up from her crouched position with a raised eyebrow.

“Ugh, you know I've been too busy to think about that. She’s gonna have to be patient” You reply, you don’t want to think about how long it has actually been, since you've had any type of release. But the tension has begun to weigh on your shoulders as time went on and you fear it might become something you can’t ignore.

You begin to move some boxes into your bedroom, thanks to your planning your large furniture such as your bed and coach, had been moved into the apartment before the rest of the things had got here, so at least you wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Changing into a pair of dark jeans and a short sleeve top, you loop an embroidered handbag onto your shoulder.

“So, you coming?” You call to Mae, who’s begun to fill your fridge with the groceries she's swung by with.

“Sure would Bug, but got a call to come in. I’ll come by again later this evening though?” Mae replies, with a grunt as she lifts the 2 litre bottle of milk onto one of the drive shelves.

“Yes please, I’m dying for a glass of wine”

“And a blunt” Mae replies, snickering at the way you roll your eyes at her.

Mae offers to drop you off, but you wave her off, telling her you wanted to see a little more of your hometown. You needed some fresh air that wasn't the coffee and smoke scent of the New York streets.

The walk to the Farmers market was a short one, but you felt like you were wading through a current. By the way the memories of your past began to resurface as you passed the streets and shops. Every corner holds a part of you, and you have to rush by your old school to stop the pang of pain that surprises you. You weren't an emotional person, but god it was almost as if you were hanging by a thread the second you touched down on Chicago. 

What was causing this? You felt like you were holding your breath as you stepped through the fallen autumn leaves marking the sidewalk, the gentle sun on your back, what were you waiting for?

You tear yourself from your thoughts momentarily when you catch the looming buildings that had been built on ions ago, the infrastructure of Chicago still enamoured you, in a way that couldn't be beaten by even New York’s impossible skyscrapers.

There was a charm to it, each of the buildings felt like you were stepping into a different decade, they had been the stepping stones to a lot of the infrastructure and architecture that spread into other cities. You felt like you were at the start of it all every time your eyes trailed across the facade and arcades of the century old stone buildings.

Without realising, you had finally made it to the Farmers Market, the constant stream of people coming in and out with boxes of produce or hauling wooden antiques with very audible grunts. You can’t stop the smile stretching your face as you step through the embroidered banner at the front of the street.

Despite the many different stalls and food around you, you don't feel overstimulated. This was your home, you felt like you belonged, like a name scratched into wet cement, remaining ingrained for years no matter the seasons that came. 

You go over the haphazard list of things you wanted to look for in your mind, but you're caught off guard by a stall that seemed to be huddled by patrons. You step towards it, and as people move aside you see the blooming flowers and carefully wrapped banquets in woven wooden baskets to the side of the stall. A short woman with light brown curls is standing at the front, taking down orders with a grin, whilst a rather tall man behind her makes quick work to wrap delicate orders into soft brown parchment paper tied with string. 

And all of a sudden the need to buy pink tulips becomes your first priority. The woman at the front looks familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on where you've seen her, but as you walk up to the front her face morphs into familiar as she looks up at you in surprise.

“As I live and breathe” She says your name with a screech and it's her voice that pulls her name to your mouth. Adeline, a close friend from senior year who’d taught you how to crochet and pick a lock.

“Bug? How've you been? What brings you back to town?” Ade replies after telling the man behind her your order without you even saying a thing. 

“Tulips, pink ones right?” Ade grins, and you have to let out a chuckle at how you haven't changed even a little.

“Got invited to join in designing a new building on Michigan Avenue, so I'll be back for a while-”

“Michigan Avenue? Holy shit Bug! You’re making moves, knew you always were special” Adeline replies with a gushing smile and you rush to reply with the same adoration

“Are you kidding, look at this line” You motion to the increasing line of people forming at Adeline's stall.

“People love their flowers” Adeline replies with a shrug before you shake your head vehemently

“No, they love your flowers, and for good reason, look at these” You gush, pressing your face into the bundle of tulips that had been handed to you.

“They only look that good because Henry's so good at wrapping them” Adeline replies with a laugh, her eyes flicking to the brown haired man dressed in corduroy behind her. A look passes between them that tells you there was more than love between them.

“Henry huh?” You reply with a grin, and the man is quick to introduce himself, and you don’t ignore the cold press of an encrusted band on his ring finger as he shakes your hand with a soft smile.

And it's as if Adeline reads your mind and she slips her left hand in yours, looking up at you with a teary grin.

“Yes, yes I know, I should've called, and I’m so sorry-”

You press yourself against her, leaning over the stall to wrap your arms around her. You whisper words of congratulation, shutting down any words that hinted at you being mad at her.

It wasn't her fault, it should be you she's mad at, you hadn’t really made that much of an effort to keep in contact with your friends back at home, and the reality of it weighed on you heavy now, you had missed so many milestones of your loved ones, all to chase your own dreams in New York.

You felt like you were constantly playing catch up, and you couldn't lie when a strange feeling crept up at the thought of your friends moving on with life. You were so incredibly happy for Adeline, and you were even more elated when she had told you of the Wedding in April that you had to come to. 

But that didn't stop that same strange feeling of being behind everyone else, you had spent so long climbing the ladder to wear what you wear now, relationships and love weren't even a thought, you filled your nights with studying and drawing and the occasional fling, but nothing more. And now doubts had begun to creep in, had you missed out? 

Watching everyone around you get married and have kids whilst you were still drawing buildings in that same sketchbook your teacher had given you 8 years ago. You’re not looking as you walk past the many stalls of the Farmers market, and it is your thoughts again that causes you to accidentally stumble into the hard muscle of a man back. You feel yourself falling, before arm's reach out, grabbing you quickly to stop you from ending flat on your face. 

You breath out a sigh of relief, shaking a head at your clumsiness

“God, ‘m so sorry, I’ve just been in my head, I wasn’t looking where i was going-”

“Holy fuck” Your quick to spit an apologetic thanks, you haven't even looked up to see who you've dubbed into, and when the sound of surprise meets your ease you look up, only to be remain stone faced with your mouth left open.

“Richie?” You say, the shock of it is still in the air. You hadn't expected to see him in Chicago, or maybe you did and it was sooner than you thought.

“When did you get back? Holy shit, thought we wouldn't see you again” Richie replies with a smile

“Yeah uh, came down for some work for a little while. How, uh How are things” You reply with a squeak, you can’t bear to say what you're thinking and Richie nods, a look of acknowledgement in his face. Mickey’s death had shaken you, it had changed you in its own way, and you still grief him, it still hurts when Richie's face kinda falls and melts at the reminder of his best friend's death.

“After, uh, after Mickey, he had left the restaurant, you know, the Beef?” You nod in agreement, the hazy memory of the sandwich shop on the corner of Chicago's, busiest streets, you stomach rumbles at the thought of one of those sandwiches you'd down in less than a minute during your high school years.

“Yeah well, get this, he left it to Carmen. And honestly, I was hesitant at first, real hesitant, I love him, but god, he's a self centred ass coming in like he knew everything, spewing the bullshit CDC shit he learnt up in the big apple? He changed things, and you know how I feel about change, but he made it better, I can;t lie, and you better not tell him this, but the Beef actually..” Richie’s familiar rambles are muffled to your ears, the only thing you can hear is Carmen.

Everything zones out as you scrunch your eyebrows, wincing almost, at the pain and it shocks you, it shocks you how the very name of him still brings back those memories. You still hurt the same way you did the day you left him.

You must have looked out of it, as Richie shakes your shoulder, anchoring you back to the present, and you have to swallow back the bite of pain that bleeds through your chest.

“Did you hear what I said? The Beef’s holding a little family dinner tomorrow, shutting down the shop early, inviting only friends and family, it’ll be like a little reunion for you! You have to come” Richie replies, and you nod trying to seem present.

Carmen took over the Beef? He was in New York? What?

Your mind is scattered with the uproar of questions you have, the thought of Carmen, the memory of him is like a fresh wound. It un tethered and opens up a thread of thoughts and emotions you had thought you bottled up and threw deep into the ocean.

“You, you still talk to him right? Ya’ll were pretty close growing up, like fucking thieves attached to the hip if i can remember” Richie chuckles, fondly remembering the two of you.

You cough back, smiling up at him as you trying to reply coherently

“Yeah, uh sometimes you know” You lie

No. You haven't spoken to him since you left, and it feels like your tongue falls dead when you try to say his name again. You hadn't called and he hadn't picked up. Carmen told you not to say goodbye, but the truth was it had been the end of you even before you had both realised. 

You had spent years pretending like Carmen not calling you, not making an effort to see you after everything didn’t burn, but the reality of it had marked you in a way that felt eternal.

“So you're coming, yeah? You and Carmen can finally catch up” Richie replies with a smile, and look of something passes through his eyes before it leaves, and you have to smile back with a nod, like you and Carmen were still close, like you don't feel that he might turn you away or scream at you the second he saw you, like you weren't both irrevocably in love with each other.

Bear. You missed him, you are shocked by how much you do, you thought bottling up your memories and emotions about him and stuffing them so far back into your mind you forgot would actually change anything. There had always been this lingering thought, at the recesses of your mind, the last thing you imagined before you fell asleep, the feeling that filled you the second you came back to Chicago, it was all Carmen, it was all your golden boy.

And now you would have to see him, in less than a day you would  be in the same room as Carmen Berzatto, you don't want to say it, you don't want to speak it into acknowledgement but deep down, you wanted to see him again. 

Beyond it all, you both were bonded in friendship, sharing something you didn't even have with Adeline or Mae, and you had felt like a part of yourself was missing each day that went passed without hearing from him. Had he forgotten you? Had it been as hard for him to go on with life? He had been in New York for christ sake, he didn't even think to visit you, that thought alone made you want to run back home and never come out.

You couldn't bare the possibility of exposing yourself to such heartache, to the chance of being rejected by the very person who you forever longed for. You were always searching for him, looking through crowds to see the familiar curl of his brown hair, or the scent he carried, ears always leaning in, trying to see if it would catch his syrupy baritone voice.

The two of you were forever connected, like the roots of trees spanning miles under the Earth. The kind of companionship that transcended time and space, and god did you want to feel the sharp edge of his jaw between your hands.

You couldn't stop it now, Richie had opened something you kept locked and sunk for a reason, and now it felt like you would break if you didn't see Carmen. Even if it would break you, even if it was the one thing in this world that would destroy you, 

You had to see your golden boy.

#neonovember #neo writes #requests #request open #series #short series #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmy #carmy the bear #carmy berzatti #carmy berzatto fix #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x fluff #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x angst #carmy x reader #carmy x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto masterlist #the bear #the bear fx #the bear season 2 #only 5 days left #i got carried away a little #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto x highschool!friend

[laiiaaa]

thinking about Carmen taking care of his girl sm he won’t put up with her spending any of her hard-earned money :(

After shutting your door for you, Carmen walks around the front of the car into the drivers seat, shuffling with the seatbelt as he turns the key in the ignition.

You hum to yourself in the meantime and find your lipstick in your bag—your new lipstick, a little more luxe this time, just the right shade to compliment your skin, a treat for yourself after finishing up a project at work. Just a little gift you deserved. You flip down the sun visor and open the mirror, making a pretty o with your lips to carefully apply it, stifling a smile when you feel Carmen watching.

“Where’s that from, baby?” he asks, a hand smoothing up your back.

“Hm?”

“The—the, uh—” he points to his own mouth while staring at your lips— “Lipstick, you call it?”

“Oh,” you smile. “Yeah, it’s new.” You hug his bicep, an affectionate squeeze before cradling the side of his face and toying with the tuft of hair by his ear. “You like it?”

He hums, “‘F course, ‘s pretty.”

But his smile falters, and it has you pouting.

“What?”

“Nothin’…” He shrugs. “Just don’t remember buyin’ it. You used my card, right?”

You shake your head. “No, I bought it myself. It wasn’t expensive, Carm, I promise.” Half true, at the very least.

“Yeah?” He let’s go of you only briefly to lift his hips and pull his wallet from his pocket, fishing out the wad of cash that’s accumulated there. “How much was it, baby? I’ll pay you back.”

“Carm, I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m doin’ it anyway.” He counts out one, two, three twenties—

“Carmen, put that away—”

He looks up at you, raises his brows, dishes out a fourth and a fifth. “What?” He doesn’t even flinch when he folds the bills in two and leans over the console to slip them in your purse, sneaking a kiss to your cheek as he does so, just because he knows it’ll distract you. A hand on the wheel now—a veiny, tattooed hand, enough to make you drool—with the other holding your jaw, he kisses you again, the corner of your mouth to keep your lipstick in tact. “Use my card next time, you hear me? Doesn’t matter what it’s for.”

You frown. “But I feel bad . . . I make my own money, y’know.”

“You’re not supposed to spend your money, baby, you’re supposed to spend mine.” Again, he kisses you, guiding you where he wants you with his thumb and index gently holding your chin so you can’t look away. “I got you, baby. Lemme take care ‘f you.”

And, well, when he puts it like that . . . it’s not so hard to oblige.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi! i'd like to ask for a whiskey with carmen berzatto with prompt m. Keeping the relationship a secret

thank you <3

Lovesick.

warnings - not quite smut, but a little smooching. cursing.

ah sweet carmen. thank you for this request <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Behind!"

Carmy's fingertips graze across your back as he walks past you, featherlight and barely there.

It sets your nerves on fire.

You carry on slicing the tomatoes, mentally willing yourself to calm down. You seem to turn into a teenager when Carmy's around, all giggly and jumpy.

"Time for you to take a break," a warm voice mutters in your ear.

"I've got like an hour before I need a break, Carm."

"I said, time for you to take a break."

He presses a gentle kiss to your ear, chuckling when he sees you shiver. To anyone else, it looks like he's just giving you direction.

"I'll meet you in the office in five," you whisper. He's satisfied with your answer, slinking off to wait for you.

You barely make it to two minutes before you're walking across the kitchen, gliding through the door and closing it behind you.

Two rough hands find your hips, pushing you up against the wall. Carmy smashes his lips to yours, using your startled gasp as opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling recklessly. Your leg hitches up around his thigh, desperate to get closer to him.

"You're all I can think about," Carmy whispers against your mouth. "Can't focus on a fuckin' thing when you're in the room."

You whine, tugging him back to kiss you again. You know this is risky. But you just can't help yourself.

"Come over tonight," you murmur. "Want you to fuck me to sleep."

He throws his head back and groans, gorgeous neck exposed and waiting to be bitten. You lean in and lick the expanse of it, tasting the salt on his skin.

Carmy brings a warm hand up to rest against your throat, smirking when you whine. He presses kisses to the spot under your ear, your neck, your collarbones. Just as he's trying to unbutton your shirt, the door swings open, scaring the life out of you both.

You shriek as Carmy jumps, light filling the tiny room.

"Well well well," Richie drawls, grin etched across his face. "What do we have here?"

"Is Carmy there? I need to ask him about-"

Sydney stops dead in her tracks, the corners of her lips curling.

"Does anyone else wanna come and fuckin' look?" Carmy groans, snapping at the two people stood in the doorway.

You hide your face in his chest, willing them to leave you alone. Or for the ground to swallow you up. Either works.

"Alright, alright. Let's leave these lovesick kids alone."

You never thought you'd see the day that Richie was your saving grace.

The minute the door swings closed, you can't help but break out into a fit of giggles. Carmy joins you, both of you crying tears of laughter.

Lovesick. He's probably right.

#carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #the bear imagine #the bear x reader #carmy the bear #the bear fanfiction #jeremy allen white #murphy's 3k celebration

[queers-gambit]

Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto hurt and comfort #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto #carmen carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x female!reader

[mayfieldss]

Girl dinner - Carmen Berzatto

Content Warnings: THIS IS MY MEAL. I CALL IT GIRL DINNER ✨️GIRLLLL DINNNER✨️

Inspired by this post I saw by @thebearer (i hope you don't mind me adding to the concept)

"What the fuck is girl dinner?" Carmy sounds more than frustrated, and confused as he stares down at you, sat comfortably on the couch with your choice of meal. It's an apalling assortment of things from his point of view, though your wide smile shows you think the opposite.

"This is girl dinner." You wave down at your food before stabbing a fork into the meal, eyes drifting to the tv.

"No, no, no, I can't let you eat that." Carmy seems a little distraught as you make eye contact with him, putting more of the dish you prepared into your mouth, chewing slowly as though to make the point 'but I'm eating it anyway.'

"Fuck, please stop with the girl dinner." You love how he's adopted the phrase himself, reaching down to pull the plate away from you, though you dodge him well.

"You eat peanut butter and Jelly for dinner almost five nights a week, so don't you dare scold me for this!" You're defensive as you stand with your plate, still spooning the disaster into your mouth. It doesn't taste as good as anything Carmy would make for you, but you're stubborn.

"At least that has substance, just let me make you something—Jesus stop eating it! There's no way that's nutritious at all!"

"Fuck nutrition!" You shout back, sounding almost like a child in your defiance.

"Fuck girl dinner!" Carmy counters expertly, though there's a hint of a laugh within his words. In the phrase coming from both his lips and your own, he finds a sort of hilarity, though the point he's trying to make is a genuine one.

"But I love girl dinner." You raise your brows as if that's the perfect blow, the one that will win you the fight, despite the statements lack of foundation.

"Well, I love you, and I can't let you eat cheese string and oreos—is that a slice of fucking orange?"

"What could you make that's better than this?" It's a stupid question, and one you know that answer to as you gesture down at the plate with one hand.

"Anything, fucking anything!" Carmy runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. "What d'you want, I'll make you something, anything, just stop with girl dinner."

You take the slice of orange and bite into it, eyes locked on Carmen's. "The point of tonight's girl dinner is that I don't want to cook, and I also don't want you to cook."

"That's my fucking job."

"Exactly, you spend all day cooking, i don't want you to have to come home and cook for me too." Your voice is softer now, sweet and soothing, Carmy letting out a sigh at the sound of it.

He moves forward, taking the plate from you and placing it on the stool beside the couch. "Look, I don't mind. I don't mind making you something every once'n a while. You deal with all my shit all the fucking time, it's the least I can do." He takes your hands in his own, pressing his forehead to yours. "Just let me make you something."

"You're ruining the point of girl dinner." You mumble, pressing a short kiss to his lips as Carmy's hands run soothingly up and down your arms.

"Don't care." His mutters back, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen, your other meal long abandoned on the stool to be disposed of later.

Days pass, Carmy is still thinking about it, and when he gets to work, he has to say something to the others. "Caught my girlfriend eating fucking orange slices and oreos for dinner the other night." He mutters whilst searing a steak in prep for a menu change. He glimpes Sydney nodding, and as Fak moves behind him, the man decides to speak.

"Girl dinner, good for her."

Carmy turns so fast to face the man that he almost sets his shirt alight on the element, thinking over the utter complexities of the term. "But what the fuck is girl dinner? How do you even know about–never mind."

"You know," Fak begins as Carmy runs a hand over his face in frustration, "this is my meal, I call this girl dinner" He's reciting something though Carmen has no clue where this is going, and when Fak starts singing it all seems to get worse.

He's repeating the phrase, and yet it still means nothing to Carmy as he moves away, leaving Fak to harmonize with Sydney as he picks up the phone.

Pressing call on your contact is like muscle memory, and the sound of the first few rings leaves him impatient, though you pick up eventually.

"Hey," he mutters into the phone, listening to your voice as you parrot the word back.

"Hey, what's up?" You sound preoccupied, and Carmy swears he can hear the closing of a cupboard door, the rustling of a packet of chips.

"Uh, nothing, I just... I wanted to call and ask if you're all good for dinner tonight." He's closed his eyes, leaning against the door of his office as the quiet settles over him. "D'you need anything?"

You answer almost too fast, suspicion creeping through the line with its grasp on your voice. "No, no, I'm good. Dinner's all good."

Carmy catches the tone, a small amused smile wriggling upon his lips. "Cool, so uh, what're you having?" He scared of the answer, if you decide to be honest—which you don't.

"I was thinking tacos, maybe, I haven't decided."

"Nice," Carmy chuckles, "so none of that girl dinner shit? No orange slices and string cheese?" Carmy can almost picture it as the words come to mind, the plate of horrors he'd witnessed not a week before. There's silence over the phone, and Carmy can hear you heave a sigh, loud and final, as you come to terms with your lie. You don't say anything, though, so Carmy fills the space.

"I'm coming home t'night," he whispers into the receiver, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he adjusts his apron. "Me, you and the tacos, okay?"

His voice is so gentle, the affection dripping from the words like honey, and he's truly never spoken to someone with as much care. It scares him sometimes, just how much he loves you.

"Carmy, I make the worst fucking tacos." Your smile is hidden within the sentence, and it reaches Carmy like a wave washing the sand, though you're so far from him right now.

"Yeah, I uh, I know. That's why I'm cooking." The kitchen is starting to get loud outside Carmy's office door, and he knows he has to get out there soon to save whatever is left of the peace.

"You don't have to do that, Carm," you exhale, and he can almost picture you, leaning against the kitchen bench, strands of hair loose that, if he was with you, he would be dying to push back into place.

"I want to." He means it, the words he says. "You're important to me, and I want you to know that. I do."

Carmy doesn't know it, but you're grinning on the other end of the line, blood rushing to your cheeks at the thought of his affection. His love.

"Okay." You whisper, "you're important to me too, Carm."

That means everything to Carmy, and he's so desperate to hold onto this, so desperate to not mess this all up. Not after Claire.

"I love you." It's unusual for him to say it first, but he does this time, and his voice soothes any stress you might have. He can hear you smile when you speak again and knows he'll be thinking about the sound of your words for the rest of the day.

"Love you too, bear, see you tonight."

CARMEN BERZATTO TAGLIST: @thrutheburnout @norriebunny @yeschefthankyouchef

THE BEAR TAGLIST: @live-love-be-unique

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fanfic #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto drabble #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy the bear #sydney adamu #neil fak #the bear imagines #the bear imagine

[irndad]

Hi hun! I just love love love your pieces <3

As for Carmy prompts - could we have some hurt to comfort when Carmen doesn't show up for a date? It's ok if you dont wanna do it or i requested incorrectly, but if you do, i cant wait to read!!!!! Thank you so much mwah mwah mwah

I’m not thaaaaaat sure how I feel about this and it’s so long but your request was so sweet I had to!!! Ily <3333

wc:1.1k

There’s so fucking much in his ear. Fak’s screaming whatever bullshit he’s sure will help absolutely nothing, Richie’s harassing Sydney and Tina’s trying to keep them all in line and will of that goddamn chaos, he shouldn’t be able to make out anything.

Prepping this whole thing, the opening, Richie biting his head off for fucking sending him to the best kitchen in the city- it’s all a bit fucking much.

He barely hears the door open (she has a key, because of course she does) and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he calls out her name.

“Hey, baby,” he yells back towards the entrance. It feels good, chopping the vegetables. It’s actually one of her favorite dishes that he’s making, and something inside him preens that he gets to feed her tonight. Everything feels illustrious under her gaze. He remembers the first time he’d cooked for her, how her watchful gaze felt a bit like sunlight; equal parts burning and doused in light.

She’d said she liked his hands, then. Said he looked pretty with a knife and a cutting board. “Will you try this sauce for me?”

He hears her heels click, the soft thud of her purse landing on the couch. It’s a slow saunter she does to him, but he’s razor focused- what does it need, garlic? Oregano?

It only breaks when he sees her. And she looks gorgeous. Wearing a black dress with a cowl neck, shimmery eyeshadow that catches and dances in the low light of the kitchen, a crimson lipstick neatly applied to her beautiful pout.

She smells like vanilla, and Carmen has the privilege of knowing what real, rich, Madagascar vanilla smells like. He’d loved the scent so much that he’d bought her a perfume made from it, and there’s a warmth blooming in his chest when he realizes that she’s wearing it.

Wordlessly, she opens her mouth and leans forward to try the sauce covered wooden spoon he’d raised to her lips.

Even when she’s in front of him, he can’t believe she’s someone he knows. That she’s wasting her time with someone like him.

“Jesus Christ you look beautiful,” he says without thinking, and he kisses her quick. It’s true. She’s a vision, plucked out of an old movie shot on grainy film, warm to the touch film.

He abandons the spoon and the sauce without much fanfare, a rough, calloused hand meeting her soft warm cheek.

“Thanks, Carmen.” she says, but her doe-eyes deny the joy she typically exudes in his presence. It’s his proudest achievement, how she glows around him. She’s tight lipped, smile betraying her words.

“What’s wrong? Is it the sauce? I know it’s a mess in here, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d see it-“

“No! No, seriously, it’s okay, honey.” She tries to insist but it really doesn’t work. He moves the pot off the burner and twists himself completely to face her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He tries not to let it sting, how she stiffens for a moment before softening again.

“What happened?” He asks again.

“It’s the first,” she says, a rueful grin on her pretty lips, before gesturing down at her outfit, and oh.

The dinner. The fucking dinner that he’d promised her. His sweet girl, who waited up every night, who dutifully tasted every recipe, who soothed him on nights where nightmares stole his sleep-

“Fuck,” he says, more to himself than her, but god, he can’t stop looking at her, “Fuck! God, I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry-“ he insists, suddenly so grateful that she’s letting him touch her, even more aware of every point of contact with the sudden fear that it could escape in a moment’s notice.

“Y’know, Carm, if you could’ve just told me that would’ve been one thing? But I left the reservation, and this was the one night we both had off!”

“I know, baby, fuck, I forgot-“

She backs away from him, and there’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Sitting on the chair he keeps by the stove (he put it there for her, because she loved watching him) she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“It’s just not fair, Carm. To either of us. If you don’t have time for this-“

“I have time for this! I have time. Don’t say things like that.”

“Carmy, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that’s the last thing I want.”

And it is. It’s the last thing she wants, and Carmen fucking knows it. Knows that three months in he’s supposed to have brought her flowers and taken her out and done more than cook for her and spend hours in his shitty apartment, and lately she’s been asking if he has time for being in a relationship.

And maybe he doesn’t, but fuck it if he doesn’t feel like he can breathe around her. This was the point of the dinner- take her out, be a boyfriend. Have her wait a little while on him. Show her he’s worth it.

Instead he fucking missed it, stayed home and made sauce no one would even eat.

“I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing her hand and lacing it through his own. It always shocks him, how it fits his own. “Okay? I’m so, so fuckin’ sorry. Tell me what I can do. Tell me, cos I’ll do just about fuckin’ anything to get you to stop saying shit like that.”

Her voice comes out small.

“I was alone, Carm. They kept trying to take my order and you weren’t there, and eventually I had to leave.“

She looks up at him, eyes sparkling and kind and Carmen. She looks beautiful, and if he wasn’t with her, he’d see her in the street and hate whatever fuck was lucky enough to be who she got dressed up for.

“I am so, so sorry. It’s just with the stove, and Fak, and Richie fucking calling me to bitch me out every thirty seconds,” she reaches her delicate fingers to brush his cheek with concern, “I should’ve remembered. It’s just about the only thing this week worth remembering. And you look…stunning, I should’ve been there. I should’ve. Please.”

Her expression softens and he loves the sight of her, warm and kind and lovely in both form and temperance. She’s so patient with him, responds with kindness- a gift.

She brushes her soft lips on his cheek and he tries to savor the sensation, note how warm and wonderful it is to have her form pressed against his, how her arms knot themselves around his waist.

“I know you’re stressed, babe,” she murmurs against his cheek, eyes shut, “tell you what. Why don’t you make me something better than what that place could’ve, huh?”

After he kisses her for so long that excess is no longer the right terminology, he makes her the best pasta she’s ever had in her goddamn life.

It’s better this way, anyway. She’s gorgeous in a way that’s just his to look at tonight.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x You #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear x reader

[writers-hes]

Request: carmy/reader, jealousy

“you’re so mean to me.” (c. berzatto x reader)

You friend sees you at the Beef while you were helping out at the counter. Carmy feels insecure. (mean!carmy, angst to fluff, just :(, sydney is such a sweetheart, protect carmen at all cost, not sure if there are spoilers, unedited.) - ACCEPTING REQUESTS!

He comes to the Beef with authority and an air of confidence. Richie noticed that he had a designer shirt on, the monogram of some brand littered on it. The shoes on his feet could cover some expenses at the Beef. You were helping out at the counter that day. Carmy has been telling you how stressful the Beef had been since day one and you decided that on your days off, you’d go down to the shop and help. Carmy wished you didn’t come that day…not if he was there.

The first time you came, Carmy was bewildered. He was a blushing, babbling mess when his girlfriend came to help. “Ayo, Jeff, stop staring and give the girl a job!” Tina teased, making Carmy’s ears turn red. 

“Alright, Chef,” he said, looking at you, finally breaking out of his trance. “Come to the office and I’ll…orient you,” he takes your hand and brings you to the back office before you could say hi to his coworkers. “Syd, cover for me!”

“Yes, chef!” 

He locked the door behind him and kissed your head. 

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice was soft, dripping with vanilla and honey.

“It’s my day-off and you’ve been telling me how much you needed another person at the counter and I decided to come down and help out. I’m sure Richie could help me,” you said. “But if you think that I might disrupt the system, I can leave and stay in the area! We can go on a date after your shift,” 

Carmy could just melt. How were you so considerate and beautiful and kind to him? He was so sure that he didn’t deserve you. He was almost certain that you were too good for him. Too good for everyone.

“I promise, I won’t mind whatever you choose, Carm.” you said, smiling softly at him. You could see the gears in his head turning. 

“No, no. I want you here,” said. “I want you here.”

“Okay. I’ll stay,” he hears, and you kiss him softly. “I’ll go to Richie and ask him to teach me the basics, okay?”

“Alright,” he said, pecking your lips “Just come to the office if you’re not feeling it, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, leaving the space and leaving a lovesick Carmy in the office. 

“Hey, guys! Sorry if I’m here on short notice. I’ll just keep out of your way and help Richie out, okay?” you asked. The kitchen hums and releases a series of “sure”, “okay”, and “thank you’s.”

“Chefs! I’ll take care of family today,” Carmy said a few moments later. He was watching you joke around with Richie. He was teaching you the basics and teaching you how to take orders. 

The first time you helped out, Carmy was tense. He didn’t want anything to happen to you. Nothing to touch you but soon, once you were well-integrated in their system, the kitchen found themselves looking forward to every Wednesday when Carmy was calmer, less annoying, and less rude. It’s like you take out every bad thing in him. 

-

Not today though. Not when Richie saw your eyes widen in recognition, an instantaneous sweet smile plastered on your face.

“Ayo, cousin!” he calls, while you almost literally jumped over the counter to talk to this guy. 

“Lawrence!” you greeted, taking him in a hug. “How are you? Richie, this is my childhood friend, Lawrence. Lawrence, this is Richie,”

Richie could only give a grimace and a half-assed wave. Where the fuck was Carmy?

“Wait for a bit,” you asked. “Sit down, okay? Your sandwich is on the house.” You looked at Richie to ask if he could cover for a few minutes and he nodded. He shouts at the order in the kitchen.

“Who’s that asshole?” he asked, getting a glass of pop. 

“My childhood friend,” you said. “We grew up in the same street together,”

“What does he do?”

“Finance…I think? It’s been a while since we last talked. I think last year?” you wondered. “I didn’t even know that he was still in Chicago because we saw each other in New York,”

“Carmy knows him?” 

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t talk about him alot. I think Carmy only knows him as a childhood friend,” you said. “They’ve never met each other.”

Richie gives you the drink and the sandwich that Tina prepared. You uttered a thanks before walking to whereLawrence sat. 

“I didn’t know you worked here,” he said, taking the sandwich from the tray. 

“I didn’t know you still lived here,” you said. “The last time that I saw you was in New York. I thought you were a big finance guy?”

“Ah, I quit,” he shrugged. “Decided to start my own start-up here in Chicago. I had enough savings and well, you know,”

“Of course,” you nod. “I don’t work here. I just help out once a week because everything’s been so busy,”

“Hm,” he hums. “My employees have been raving about the sandwiches here since the new management took over. Decided to try it out and sure enough, you were there.”

“Fuck! Where the fuck were you?” Richie asked Carmy when he finally came through the back door. Some rich asshole has been wooing your girl in the seating area. Says he’s her childhood friend or some shit,”

“Who?” Carmen asked, removing his jacket. 

“Your girlfriend took a break to talk to a customer, Jeff.” Tina said. Carmy frowned, walking briskly to you. The staff huddled, intrigued at how this could unfold. Carmy has never felt jealousy before. He’s never had to deal with girlfriends and their guy friends that definitely look at you too long. He’d never have to deal with Lawrence who was so obviously flirting with you. He’d never have to deal with you accepting it. The jealousy consumes him.

“Carmy! Come here,” you said when you finally noticed him. He’s been standing there for minutes while you listened to this guy drone on about how bored he was with his money. How you were probably meant to see each other again. 

“Hey,” Carmy greets the guy in front of you. A chair scrapes loudly on the floor, reverberating in the whole restaurant. He sits down. 

“Carmy’s the owner of this place,” you told Lawrence. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“He is?” Lawrence asked and Carmy could feel him sizing him up in his dirty white t-shirt. “I’m Lawrence. We grew up together,”

“Oh,” Carmy said. “Uh, babe, can I talk to you for a minute in the office?”

“Sure,” you said. “I have to go,” you told Lawrence, who stood up as well. His sandwich was half-eaten and it annoyed Carmy. Had he no respect to at least finish the food in front of the chef who made it? Asshole. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m leaving too,” Lawrence said. “I have a meeting around here. I’ll see you?” he asked. 

“Of course,” You removed your hand from Carmen to hug Lawrence and it fucking hurt. Lawrence kisses the side of your head before sparing a glance to Carmy. What an asshole. 

“What was it, Carm?” you asked, smiling. You were almost forgiven because of how sweet you looked but Carmy have always felt things too intensely. He couldn’t stop what came from his mouth and it was too late. Too fucking late and the damage has been done.

“Go home,” he said, coldly. Your face fell and Carmen wanted to take it back. He felt you recoil yourself away from him, as if he’s hurt you. As if he burned you.

“Bear?” you asked softly.

“Go home,” he repeated. You frowned, grief-stricken but you nodded. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll…I’ll just get my stuff from the locker,”

Carmy looks away from you and you clear your throat. Walking away from him, you saw the staff pretend like they weren’t listening.

“Hey, guys. I’m going…going home,” you said, trying to stabilize your wavering voice. Tears were threatening to spill but you blink them away. “I don’t feel well, and I realized I have this…thing to attend to.” you lied.

“Of course, sweets,” Tina says. “Get home safely, okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah. I’ll let you know once I’m home.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sydney says, glaring at Carmen. 

“No, it’s— “

“It’s just a few blocks away. I’ll take you.” she says, and you nodded, walking to the locker room with her. 

“Sorry for being such a bother,” you said while you waited for her to change into her outside shoes. 

“You’re not,” she reassured. “Let’s go?”

-

“I didn’t know what I did wrong,” you said, walking away from The Beef. “I was just so excited to see my friend. We grew up together, you know? In the same street. Went to the same school and we haven’t seen each other in a year. I didn’t know what I did for Carmy to be so mean.”

“It’s okay,” Syd says, not wanting to get in the middle. “Just explain things to him, okay? You’re the only person he listens to.”

“I guess,” you nodded, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I just…he’s never been that way to me before. It feels new and I don’t like it,”

Syd, who’s been on the receiving end of Carmy Berzatto’s anger, wanted to protect you from him but it wasn’t her place. She wanted so badly to tell you to let him cool off.

The remaining walk back to your apartment was quiet. You both didn’t know what to say, where to start. 

“Do you want to come in?” you asked Sydney. “Refresh a bit?”

“No, I’m fine. I might be needed at the restaurant,” Syd says. You nod, going in for a goodbye hug with your friend. “I’ll see you?”

“Yeah. Thanks for walking me home. Stay safe, okay?”

-

The kitchen hated Carmy that day. He was ruder, more annoying, more…insufferable. Tina said that he handled the situation wrong, Eibrahim and the others, except for Richie agreed. So, when Sydney comes back, the first thing she say was, “What the fuck, Carmen?”

“Stay out of it, Sydney,” Richie warns but Sydney did not give a fuck. Seeing her friend so defeated, so sad stirred something in her. Maybe she was biased because she actually liked you

“She was crying all the way from here,” she said. Carmy felt like he was going to throw up. “Grow up, Carmy. Just because you can’t handle that she has other friends, doesn’t mean you have to take it out on her.”

“Fuck off, Sydney.”

Sydney stands, taken aback. She was just trying to help.

“Fine,” she says, blinking. “But if you come to an empty home, don’t take it out on us.”

-

Sydney’s warning rang in his ears as he drove home. He was anxious but his anger superseded every emotion that he was feeling. That was why, when he opened the door, he immediately looked for you. 

“Who was that?” he demanded. Anxiety and anger had such a bad mix and he knew it. He couldn’t stop. That friend of yours made him feel so insecure. 

“Carmen,” you sighed. “He’s my friend. Lawrence. I told you about him before,”

“Carmen?” he chuckled. He’s just Carmen now? “I don’t like him.”

“Why?” you asked, exasperated. “He’s nice. I was actually so excited for the two of you to meet until you ruined it. He’s my friend that I haven’t seen in over a year, Carmy. Wasn’t it a natural reaction to be excited?”

“What? You’re telling me that I ruined your little date in my restaurant?” he asked, voice raising. “That’s nice. Sorry for bothering you,”

“We weren’t even doing anything wrong!” you said, walking away. You didn’t want this—you just wanted to talk about things without screaming. 

“Hey! Get back here, I’m talking to you!”

“Talk about what, Carmen?” you asked. “You’re not listening to me. Okay? What is there to talk about?”

“You let him all over you like that! Took a break just to spend time with him,” he sneered. “And-and he looked at you like you were his. You let him kiss you. You let him do things to you and you just fucking accepted it.”

“What?” you asked. “Lawrence and I grew up like that There’s nothing wrong with it,” you tried. You were probably being too defensive, not letting Carmy explain his side but you were hurt when he dismissed you just like that. When he let you go without a kiss. He just looked away when you were pleading with him. 

“So, you’d rather defend your old fucking friend instead of trying to fix this bullshit,” Carmen spits. “Heard,”

“What?” your heart dropped. “Bullshit?” The first tear falls like it was rehearsed. It broke your heart to hear Carmy call you relationship bullshit when you’ve spent the best days of your life with him. When you helped him through the nightmares…when he took care of you. “Bullshit, huh, Carmen?”

You couldn’t form a string of coherent sentences. Your mouth was agape, trying to process what he just said. Fix this bullshit. Fix this bullshit. You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from crying. 

Bullshit. It was when you stayed up late to make sure that he slept peacefully, threading your fingers in his golden hair so he could feel your presence. Bullshit. It was when you picked him up from some bar downtown because he decided to drink with Richie. Bullshit. It was when you sacrificed your days-off just so you could spend more time together. Bullshit. It was when he showed up on your first date with flowers that you pressed in between the pages of your favorite book. Bullshit. It was when Carmen told you that he loved you because you made him a burnt grilled cheese sandwich. Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit. It was ringing in your ear, breaking your heart in a million pieces. 

“Fuck, baby,” Carmen takes it back when you moved to walk towards the door. “I’m sorry— “

“Is that all it was to you?” you asked. “Bullshit? Is that why you dismissed me so coldly earlier? Because it’s bullshit?” Tears are on your face now and you wipe them away. “It’s bullshit, huh?”

“Baby…”

“Don’t,” you said. “Fuck, you’re so…so mean,” you said, crouching on the floor to shield yourself away from him. “I…I don’t know what I did wrong,” you whispered. “And I’m sorry if my actions hurt you but that’s how I grew up with Lawrence. I didn’t know that I was hurting you but, fuck,” you sobbed. “You’re so mean to me, Bear.” You didn’t mean it as an endearment, and he knew that.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says, crouching down to your level. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers, taking you in his arms. You didn’t want to fight back. “I’m sorry for-for doing that. For projecting my insecurities on you. I just…he has life figured out and I could never give you what he could give. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry,”

“I don’t want him,” you sniffled. “I’m with you, you know? Please…please, don’t call it bullshit. Because it’s not…for me, at least.”

“It’s not bullshit. I’m sorry, so fucking sorry for saying that. I’m so sorry,” he rambles sincerely. “You’re the best person that I’ve met. I love you. I love you so much that the thought of anyone else loving you drives me mad. I’m sorry,”

“You were mean to me,”

“I was, baby. I was,” he said. “I promise to stop myself from being mean. I’m so sorry. I don’t-don’t want to lose you. Please-please don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave.”

“I’m not going to leave you, Carmen.” you cooed, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

“Not that name, please. I’m just so fucking sorry for saying that and making you feel bad. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m sorry too. I should have been more considerate. I love you so much, Bear.”

“It’s my fault. All my fault,” 

“It’s not.”

“Can we-can we go to bed?” he asked, pulling away from you. You nodded. That night, when you were half-asleep, you felt his calloused hand caress your cheek. You’d never tell him, but you heard him. Loud and clear.

“I love you,” he whispers. “You don’t know how much I love you and I’m sorry. I love you.”

A/N: No Carmen Berzatto taglist yet! Also, if you’re waiting for the Tommy Shelby fic, you might have a to wait a week more before I release it. I want to release a chapter every week and I haven’t written the second chapter for this week yet. Thank you for reading! Don’t forget to leave comments and reblogs :)

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #fanfiction #angst #fluff #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto angst #carment berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto angst #the bear fx #ask

[thebearer]

the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|

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.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #thebearer #the bear #the bear season 2 #carmy smut #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fx #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto blurb #the bear hulu #richie jerimovich

[nolita-fairytale]

carmen 'carmy' berzatto masterlist

Thee Carmy x Reader 'Make My Heart Surrender' Universe (In Chronological Order):

comfort & chaos (prequel to make my heart surrender)

a series of vignettes: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you. (completed)

october 2019 | covid & carbonara | heat waves | 2/22/22** | called you again | home**

the phone call (blurb - the phone call that gets reader to chicago in the first place)

make my heart surrender

after quitting your job at the restaurant you both used to work at, carmy asks you to come in and work with his pastry chef at his new spot, the bear. only, the longer you stick around, it becomes clear that you have unfinished business. will one week in chicago change your life, and his, forever? (completed)

tuesday | wednesday | thursday | friday (**18+ for smut) | saturday/sunday | monday | tuesday, again | the playlist

home (final chapter from comfort & chaos - **smut)

try a little tenderness (fluff & angst blurb)

cigarettes & coffee (fluffy blurb)

j is for james beard... and for jealousy (**smut oneshot | 18+ only)

your past and mine are parallel lines (fluff oneshot)

pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list (fluff blurb)

bad moon rising (what if/angst-shot -- guest starring mikey berzatto)

sister-in-law (fluff oneshot -- guest starring natalie berzatto)

still into you (sequel to make my heart surrender)

you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (completed)

thursday | **bonus smut scene | friday | saturday | sunday | it's perfect, chef (**bonus smut scene)

don't want to walk alone

the long awaited wedding fic for carmy x reader in the make my heart surrender universe. this six part series chronicles the wedding planning, your (not) bachelorette party, the wedding, and the honeymoon as you build a life with your husband-to-be. (completed)

june/july | august | september | the honeymoon pt 1 | the honeymoon pt 2 | epilogue: november

carmy as your baby daddy

a social media au & headcanon series detailing your first pregnancy with carmy. created for the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone work. this has been created in collaboration with @carmensberzattos & @allthefandomstogether , the graphic goddess. (completed)

part one | part two | part three | part four | give you my wild, give you a child (**smut-shot) | part five | part six | part seven

extras/moodboards/headcanons/imagines:

your life as a pastry chef in chicago while dating carmy (moodboard & headcanon)

meeting mikey in another lifetime (headcanon)

pov: you're marrying carmen berzatto (moodboard)

honeymoon lingerie moodboard

christmas with carmy moodboard & blurb

The Bear: Unrelated to Make My Heart Surrender:

(nothing here YET but working on it)

jealous!carmy & jealous!luca headcanon

stargazing with marcus brooks (blurb)

sneaking around with carmy (blurb)

#nolita fairytale's masterlist #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut

[neonovember]

Oh. My. God. Oh my god but imagine though, waking up around 8 or 9 or so on a day off where both you and Carmy have the day free. It’s a big deal maybe because oh my god Carmen’s in bed at 9 in the morning *affectionate sarcasm* holy moly Carmen settle down!

But just waking up with him, the sun coming through the window through the thin curtains with a little breeze, looking over and watching Carmy’s face form into the softest, most precious smile, his eyelashes fanning his cheeks as he slowly comes to and lets out a little sigh “Morning” his voice is all husky from sleep and lack of use. You smile back with that sweet giddiness and relaxation in filling your body as you softly whisper good morning back to him. Watching him shift as he sits up to lean over and place a long, soft and slow and tender kiss over your lips, still with that little smile on his lips (I am about to exPLODE-)*CRYING!!!!!!*

okay okay, i know i wrote a drabble similar to this idea here, and for some reason my mind fell back to the night before..y'all, imagine the night that resulted in a soft, needy carmen spending the day in bed with you, all sore and a mess of slick and cum-

Midnight Cars

summary: You’re not about to fuck in the car park. So you end up fucking in the car park. Your apartment’s one at least. 

a/n: read @nolita-fairytale fic's about fiance!carmen, and god did that get my gears going. Her series is a mf masterpiece! Fiance Carmen is dirtyyy, even for Berzatto himself. There's public sex, I'm talking Carmen is knuckles deep in you swallowing you with praises whilst a few feet away from Auntie Susie, public. 

warnings; filth, utter FILTH, this is kind of insane even for me, car sex, public sex, fingering, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehuh!) but carmen's doing all the work, fiance!carmen, wrap it before you tap it lmao, 18+ explicit, feral and a little deranged carmen, possesive! carmen

The tangy burst of vermilion and cherry grasps your tongue as you tilt the rounded bowl of your drinking glass towards your lips, gliding your tongue to catch any wayward drops of the wine being poured by waiters dressed down in black and white. 

Your eyes don’t leave the dirty blond tresses that had long broken from their gelled back form through the night's progression sitting atop Carmen’s head. You can’t help the giggle you let out from your position against the bar, watching him join in a very drunk, but surprisingly harmonised rendition of “Ain't No Mountain High Enough" By Marvin Gates.

His tie sits undone around his neck, and his face is sort of flushed from the extended night, his cheeks a tinty rose and his lips turned red from his repetitive swipes of his tongue across them nervously.

All inhibitions are gone now, and you're able to indulge in the site of a carefree Carmen, left unaware of the never ending responsibilities he carried by the honey haze of a night just for him and his award winning restaurant. 

The low lights of the speakeasy room sets the air into a mellow haze, hints of cocoa and aged bourbon waft through the corners of the room, across half finished plates of food on tailored tables, and the stage where your Carmen had won the very award that now sits dangerously close to the edge of your table.

You knew the James Beard Association was prestigious, but god had they truly left you dumbfounded when you stepped into the low lights of the speakeasy.

You didn't even know places like this still existed. 

The speakeasy was tucked in a bricked alley, unassumingly between an Italian and a car park. You wouldn’t have ever guessed it to boast this attraction, with aged vintage black and white photos of late singers who’d sung on that very stage years ago hanging across the walls, polished dark exposed wood and velvet booth seats in corners surrounding round tables, even the parlour looked like it was out of an 80’s  bar house. You think if you shut your eyes and reached out you would have touched the sequence dress of Etta Jones.

Carmen didn't get drunk, not often anyways, and even now, after winning the prestige of “Chicago's Up and Coming Restaurant of the Decade”, he waved off every raise of a glass towards him.

Carmen felt a level of unease at even touching a drop of liquor whilst driving you both home, no, every fiber of his being screamed at him to keep you safe at all times, and the taste of bourbon held nothing against the taste of you. 

That didn’t stop him from enjoying himself, in fact he felt an unnatural sense of bubbly relaxation fall over him as his gaze fell towards you, sipping on a glass, looking the very bit the picture of gorgeous he’d ever seen. 

Carmen had always been horrible at these sorts of things, getting doted on, sucked up to, boasted to. He hated every second of it, but even he can attest to the absolute wonder of a night this has been. He glided you against the dance floor, under the iridescent glass panes of the skylight window, the soft crescent moonlight shining through in a way that bounced against the glitters of low hanging ambient lighting and shimmers of dresses and disco balls. 

The dance floor had been packed with family and friends but then? Then, it had felt like the entire world had stood still, it had felt like it was the both of you, infinitely, you in his arms like it was meant to be, forever.

And now you looked across to him, with those eyes, those fucking eyes of yours, comfortable in the vision of your gorgeous man looking at you under hooded lids, his bottom lip sunken into his mouth. The hint of a smirk tucks at the corner, and it takes everything in you not to jump at him then.

You motion with a manicured finger, and his eyes catch yours in a second, despite being in a group of people currently huddled around him, eager faces hanging onto his every word. He leaves them, in the middle of a mountain of questions they prodded at him, towards you, following your every desire, always, until the very end.

“I see congratulations are in order, Chef” You softly reply, when he makes it close enough that you take in the veins trailing up his forearm, left bare from his rolled up sleeves. The vision shoots straight to the heat building in your belly, and you have to press your drink to your lips to stop the bubbly moan from escaping.

Carmen looks down at you from his height, eyes trailing down the cut of your body hugging dress, lingering on your snug hips catching against the silky black fabric. 

He wanted to feel them beneath his hands as he took you.

“Oh yeah?” Carmen replies, his voice like silk fluttering across your body. Heady in that way it always is.

“Mhm, but I didn’t get to really say anything since you were busy with the rest of them” You don’t have to gesture for Carmen to know about the huddles of people crowding his every move. Another thing he disliked about these sorts of things, they took him away from you.

“Does my girl feel neglected?” 

“No” You draw out. “ I just want to show you how proud I am” You whisper through dark lashes. Carmen trails a tattooed fingers across your jaw, letting glide against the smooth skin until it bumps against your lips. Trailing your bottom lip fervently, his own pulled into his mouth.

“And how are you going to congratulate me hm?”

“That will just ruin the surprise, won’t it?”

Carmen let’s put a chuckle, before leaning into the crook of your neck

“Careful..you know I don’t like it when you keep things from me” 

You can’t help the shudder that crawls up your spine at his words, flashes of being bent over his desk, of being pushed onto your knees corrode your mind and you feel the burning ache travel to your core.

Carmen tilts his head, a hint of a smile on his lips as he watches you, eyes glinting in want.

“No? You’re not gonna tell me?” Carmen replies in a low voice, and as he trails his thick digits across the sides of your dress, bunching up the silk material.

He trails his thick digits across the bodice of your dress, his hands dipping into the spill of cleavage before trailing it to the sides of your dress, bunching up the silk material. Surely he’s not?

“Mhm” Carmen nods, eyes flickering to you, reading your mind as he takes you in appreciably. His pupils are blown out in lust, the familiar ceruleans dipping into a depth only reserved for you.

You let out a squeal when you feel Carmen’s fingers trail up the slit on your thigh, squeezing the naked flesh before tracing his fingers along the lace trim of your panties. You’re up against the bar, shielded by the low ambient lighting and Carmen’s huge back obscuring every manoeuvre of your body to his every desire.

“Carmen-“ You admonish, eyes darting across the room now filled with happily drunk family and friends dancing or laughing amongst each other.

However your admonishment is light hearted, it trails off into the air when you feel Carmen press against you, then, you don’t really care, you miss him too goddamn much to.

“Been watching you the entire night you know? When you were dancing with your friends, god I wanted to drag you from the floor and just take you in the fucking coat closet” Carmen muses, his lips brushing against the pulse point behind your ear. Your drink long forgotten on the bar counter, your hands now gripping his shoulders as you bite back a moan.

“Yeah, just thinking about wrapping these thighs around me and letting that pussy grip me for hours”

“You’d take it all, right honey? You’ll be my good girl?” Carmen grunts out softly

All you can let out is a half hearted nod, your eyes falling dangerously closed as Carmen prods and sucks against every sliver of skin he can get ahold of.

His deft thumb drags along the fabric of your undergarments, cupping your mound as you let out a sharp exhale, making approving noises as the slick that has begun to already begun to drench your panties.

“Already wet for me Darling?” Carm replies, the hint of mirth surrounding his voice doesn’t allude you, and if you didn’t want to keep chasing that sweet friction of Carmens thumb against your heat you would have shoved him.

“Please Carm” You exhale with a sharp breath, trying to grind your hips onto the palm of his hand. He strokes you softly, featherlight touches that barely feel like anything.

And this man, this goddamn man, laughs. A roll of a chuckle rolls through his body and you want to scream at the denial of the pleasures he's keeping from you, before his deep baritone voice replies.

“All you had to say was please”

His rough fingers sink into your heat, it’s silky, and rough and hits you like liquor, straight to the building pressure. He drags your slick through your folds, arching his fingers ever so slightly when he bumps up against your clit. Never fully putting any pressure on that precipice of pleasure you want to dive head first into.

Dipping a thick tattooed digit into your tight hole, Carmen lets out a groan at the way you grip him so tightly, masking your pitched moan at the feeling of him circling his thumb against your bundle of nerves and stretching you out with his thick digits.

Carmen is practically holding you up, his large bicep wrapped tightly around your waist as you sink your teeth into his shoulder, letting the skin absorb the litter of stuttered mewls you let out at the swipes of his thumb against your clit.

The coil begins to tighten, and you can faintly hear Carmen softly whisper sweet nothings, proclamations, declarations, praises. They fall from his mouth like honey and push you further up the cliff. 

“I know sweet girl, taking it so well, just keep taking it, let me make you feel good, yeah?”

A second finger joins the first, dragging your sopping slick up your folds, before dipping into your tight hole. Rough fingers massage up against your walls that grip him so tightly, Carmen knows your body inside and out, and it doesn't take long for him to find the soft spongy patch of skin deep within you, curling a third finger up into that spot, roughly thrusting into relentlessly. 

Carmen watches the way your pussy swallows his thick tattooed fingers, thrusting them out slicker and wetter each time, the image has his jaw and slacks tightening and it takes everything in him not to sink his entire length into against the bar counter, fuck whoever else.

Your hips buckle beneath him, and he grips you harder into his chest, his mouth presses bruising kisses along your neck, jaw, clavicle. Your heated moans fail to reside in you as you begin to cant your hips into his hands, rubbing your clit rapidly on the flat side of his palm. The coil tightens within you, and you roll your eyes back, letting out a bubbling of half syllabus, your brain a mush from the saccharine pleasure curling your toes.

“M’ fucking you dumb baby? You getting off so good on my fingers you can’t speak?” Carmen groans out, he can’t stop himself from canting his hips forward, his erection bumping into your stomach.

The feeling of him pressed and thrusting against you, outlined by his suit pants is a vision that breaks you entirely, and you can’t even blink before you feel the band snap, the delicious white hot burn spreading through you like a wildfire.

“Carmen..s-..gonna” You manage to let out with a breath, and Carmen knows already, of course he does. He’s knuckles deep in you now, and his relentless rutting is inescapable, you can fucking feel him in your bones, down to your goddamn marrow. He continues his rapid thrusts into you, refusing to relent, pushing you further, and further through the waves of your unending. 

Your head lulls back, but Carmen catches it with his arm, his mouth slatted over yours as you fail to keep in the loud yell of his name from your lips. 

Carmen swallows your stuttered mewls, your swears, your please, he swallows it all and keeps it for himself. His tongue darting across the inside of your mouth, swiping along the roof of your mouth, across your front teeth.

His fingers continue to thrust into you, helping you ride through the burst of colours and stars that light your vision beneath your lids. You're pushed up against his hard chest, and it takes some time for your limp body to come back to life, your head a daze of pleasure.

“S’fucken good girl”

Carmen mutters so softly, almost to himself, his fingers are still cupping your heart, whisper grazes of his thumb against your drenched folds. 

as he fixes your dress, smoothing the wrinkles formed, flickering his eyes to yours in a sweet smile.

Through hooded lids, you see a man approach you both, interrupting the heated gaze Carmen imprints down to your very bones. Carmen slinks his hand back, discreetly popping those deft digits into his mouth with a low groan, before wiping them on his suit pants. He carefully fixes your dress, smoothing the wrinkles formed, flickering his eyes to yours in a sweet smile as if he hadn’t just fucked you up into his knuckles, and goddamn tasted you. 

The scene causes a shudder to roll down your back, reigniting the heat deep inside you once again, you never thought you could be this depraved, this-, but the way he sinks into you so perfectly has you nodding to every desire he has. He was a goddamn drug.

Your body is still recovering from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you feel Carmen's heated gaze on you as you try and coherently respond to the stubby man who’d interrupted you both. The man rambles on, clearly oblivious to your state, too focused on the sound of his own voice. You nod along to his words, something about a farmers market or an Indian restaurant that had opened, but you're jittering in your heels and you can barely stand, opting to lean against the bar counter. 

You look towards Carmen, to find him staring at you, amusement lighting his cerulean blues as he takes in your insatiability. Hell, it took him god near everything to not fling the man to the other side of the room so that he could probably taste you. 

Remind him again why he agreed to this?

It gets to maybe the second inception of an animated story before Carmen is bidding the man goodbye with a shake of a hand, and all you can do is swallow the desire that no doubt has you salivating by the second. God if Carmen had made you wait even one more minute you would have tugged on his shirt like some petulant child.

“Took you long enough” You murmur, when Carmen eases out into the speakeasy car park with a hand against the small of your back.

A soft laugh escapes Carmen, scratching at his jaw as he shakes his head. 

“If I didn’t already know, I would think you're the one that hates these things” Carmen murmurs with a teasing smile, as you make your way to the sleek black car that camouflages against the midnight.

You make a sound that sounds close to a snort, “Not when it keeps me from jumping my fiances bones” Your engagement ring seems to glisten at those words, and you don't miss the way Carmen’s eyes flash with a look of hunger, adoration, glee, even possession all mixed in one.

You’d been his since the moment he laid eyes on you, that was a given. Putting a ring on your finger just gave him something to latch onto, a mark that told the world you were finally his.

It anchored him, it made him feel good. It eased the anxieties that would flood his mind, washing them away like a current every time he kissed that damn princess cut.  

Carmen wasn’t exactly all that sentimental, but with you? God did he mutter till death do us part like it was tattooed onto his tongue. And even then, when he’s a zombified version of his human self, traveling the underworld soullessly he’d find you.

Oh were you Carmen’s, but wasn’t he yours too?

“Language sweetheart, you make me sound like a piece of meat” Carmen murmurs teasingly shuffling so that he’s leaning over your body pressed into the passenger seat door.

“Language? Your talking about modesty after you just-” Your cut off by Carmen's rough finger pressed against your lips

“Would be careful about what you're going to say next sweetheart” Carmen raps in a low voice, tracing his finger against your bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed as if the motion of his fingers brushed up against you was of utmost importance.

You gulp back the words you wanted to say, Carmen's blown out eyes flicker from yours to your lips, and you lift your head towards him. Carmen catches you with a hand wrapped around your jaw, pushing you further against him as he crashes his lips sweet against your own. Swiping against your bottom lip, dipping into the heat of your mouth as he groans against the taste of you.

“So sweet,” Carmen murmurs into the kiss, before pulling back. Amusement clouds over lust filled eyes at your immediate anger against his denial

“What about my surprise?” 

“You can’t really get to enjoy the full experience in a public car park on Michigan Ave” You whisper, suggestivity laces your tone as you feel the heat of embarrassment flood through you. You were not good at this stuff, and yet the sharp sound of Carmen’s soft groan causes you to lift your eyes up to meet him.

“Then what are we doing standing here?” Carmen replies with a growl, it erupts from his chest, and as you stare up at him, you finally take in the wolfish expression on his face. He look’s insatiable, goddamn animalistic as he eyes you carefully, a darkness that prods at his blues.

You let Carmen place you into the passenger seat, the resounding click of the seat belt the only sound in the stretch of silence between you both. A heaviness laces the air in the car as you ride home, a headiness, a lurking desire beneath the illuminating light of the console, and the flashing lights of Chicago sitting against tinted windows. 

Carmen spreads his thighs across the drivers seat leisurely, resting a hand on the steering wheel, whilst the other grips your thigh tightly. There's going to be a bruise there tomorrow, and you can't help but preen at the thought of his mark on you hours later.

You count the seconds that tick by as Carmen rolls into the basement garage of your shared apartment, parking silently as he cuts the engine and remains unmoving, except for his hand gripping your thigh which he squeezes periodically. 

Carmen cuts his gaze towards you, the wolfish expression that overtakes his features and turns him into a predator tells you all you need to know, but his eyes soften ever so slightly, almost telling you the next move is up to you.

Carmen doesn't need to hear the seat belt unclasping before he's tugging you on his lap with rough skillful hands. His erection pushed against the softness of your belly as groan out in blissed relief, Carmen can’t help himself, grinding his hips up into you frantically.

“Need” Carmen breathes out heavily “Need to feel you, need to be inside of you. Right now, right fucking now” Carmen groans.

There is a fumble of clothes being ripped and thrown into the backseat, and Carmen shifts the driver's seat to lean back a little. The position is unforgiving, your back is pressed against the wheel, and the space is too small, but strangely, it’s a tight proximity you crave, too long have you gone without the ecstasy of Carmen’s skin against yours.

You settle your thighs on either side of him, his deft fingers drawing soft circles across your hips, his pressing fervent kisses along your jaw causing you to fall into the crook of his neck.

“Please, sweetheart, let me feel you, let me see you, shh, it’s alright, let me feel you” Carmen hums into the heat of your skin, tasting your sweat with the flat of his tongue as he grips your hips gently.

You lift them, and with Carmen's help, you finally, after what felt like centuries, sink onto Carmen's length, the sobbing slick drenching your folds causing him to slip in easily, eliciting a breathless groan from him as he feels the heat of you wrap around you.

You can hardly breath, all you can feel, all you can taste and see is him, the delicious stretch that comes with the first sink into you is glorious, its fucking ineffable. The entirety of his length sinks into you to the hilt, and you feel every vein and ridge of him graze against your tight walls as you let out a strained whimper into Carmen's shoulder.

“ ‘S Fucking velvet, pussy grip’s like a goddamn vice every time sweetheart” Carmen praises, pressing kisses to your skin, his eyes shut as if he was memorising the feel of you, savouring it in his mind like it was the last time.  

Carmen always gave you a few moments to get comfortable around his thickness, but there was a neediness in the way he held you, like you would turn to dust if he let go, and the restraint he held earlier falls apart as makes that first thrust up into you without warning.

You cry out as the blanket of pleasure courses through you, your heart is in your throat, you can barely breath, and you throw your head back cause god don’t you want more.

You press your nails into his shoulder as you try to lift your hips, eyebrows furrowed at the feeling of pleasure that fills you with every inch of him that glides against your walls, your clit, your slick. You’re a mess, and Carmen tugs at your hips, sick of waiting, and thrusting into you mercilessly, maintaining an unforgiving pace as you quake above him.

“Take me so goddamn well, huh sugar? Doesn't my wife take my cock so well?’ Carmen grunts, his eyes watching the way his length sinks into you and leaves glistening with your slick. The sight nearly tears him into his undoing, nearly causing him to spurt into you, if only he had a damn polaroid.

Your head brushes against the roof of the car as Carmen pistons into you, his hands gripping your hips as he slams you onto his length, rutting into you as the velvet of your walls cling to him. It was like goddam silk wrapped around his length, the gooey slick of your arousal coating his every ridge, dripping down onto his balls and between the space where he’d thrust into you.

A litter of profanities fall from his mouth with every stuttered thrust of his hips, its uncontrolled, and Carmen shows no restraint, no signs of stopping as he chases the wet softness only you have, the decadent caramel, your natural addicting scent, the car fucking stinks of you, and it takes everything in Carmen not to rip you off him and drink from you like a fountain elixir.

His tip brushes against your cervix, thrusting impossibly deeper with every move of his hips, he changes his position, and it causes his length to brush up against that spot that causes stars to burst in your vision. You practically arch your back against him, lifting your hips up when you feel the white hot pleasure that drips down your back, exploding your senses.

“No no no, fucking take it” Carmen snarks, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you down deeper, further onto his length, till your filled to the brim, your slick gushing out of you.

A shudder rolls through you and the sound of Carmen's low voice, dipping into something untapped, something animalistic and merciless, something that would pull every drop of pleasure from you until you were a sobbing mess.

You roll your hips against his length, a shaking, stuttering mess of gurgling words and cries as you grind your clit against Carmen's length, whilst the girth of his thrust into the spongy spot within you that leaves you heaving.

The familiar burn of a coil tightens within you, and as Carmen presses a thumb against the swollen bundle of nerves, circling it softly. The contrast of his soft feather touches against your clit paired with his unforgiving pace thrusting into causes you to keen, arching your back against him as Carmen murmur below you fervently, like he's chanting something, worshipping every curve of your body.

“Open your eyes pretty girl” Carmen murmurs, the soft voice of his voice comes back, the rough demeanour falling away like dust as he takes in the signs of your closeness.

“Please Carmen” You beg, you don't know what for,  but it seems like everything from the pleading lilt of your voice. Give me everything Carmen, your love, your pleasure, your skin and bones.

“I know Baby, I know, let me see you yeah? Let me see those pretty eyes” Carmen prods gently

You squeeze your eyes open and the vision that finds you almost snaps the coil tightening deep within your gut, bellowing with heat and pleasure that sizzles below your skin like electricity.

Carmen lies beneath you, his cheeks red with heat and blushing desire, his eyebrows are furrowed, and below them, below them lie cerulean blues that glaze over in a daze, hooded lids with curls lashes that brush against cheekbones. It’s like he's in a trance, his pupils blown out in lust and something else as they watch the bounce of your chest against him each time you shealth yourself onto his thick, hard length.

White teeth pressed into reddened lips watch you eagerly, imprinting you into his mind forever, he wanted you like this always, taking every inch, screaming nothing but his name.

“Fucking gorgeous”

The lilt of his voice, grown husky and low from pleasure breaks something in you, and you aren’t able to warn him, before you arch your back impossibly, driving yourself roughly onto his hips as you get the wave of pleasure wash over you. Colours of vermilion, blue, of the wine you had drunk and Carmen's cologne burst under your lids, on your tongue, everywhere. Carmen groans loudly below you, thrusts growing sloppy as he ruts into you desperately, chasing his own release brought on by your own unending. 

Carmen barely controls the thrust of his hips into you, releasing spurts of thick cum, coating your walls endlessly. His arm wraps tightly around your waist, making you take everything he gives you, forcing you into the whirlwind of ecstasy and base desire you can’t escape from.

You both temporarily forgot about where you both are in that instance, the pleasure from the both of you transports you somewhere boneless, and for a second you feel your heart stop, the  wave of pleasure that crashes over you as Carmen continues rutting into you, lengthening the wave as long as possible until you feel it swallow you both whole.

It’s somewhere between a few minutes to a few hours when you resurface, you don't know, your mind is a mess of sound and colour and the ecstatic aftershock of pleasure that still runs through you. You're nestled into Carmen’s chest, the scent of your coupling thick in the air, your thighs and the leather seat are covered with your combined slick.

The only sound between you both is your heavy breathing, you still nestled up to the hilt of Carmen, and when you slightly shift your hips Carmen shoots out a hand to stop you.

“Easy there sweetheart” Carmen replies in tight constraint, over stimulation washing over you both as the buzz of pleasure still hasn't quite dissipated.

“S-sorry” You reply, breathlessly, lifting your head tiredly to catch the soft gaze of Carmen watching you. His hands glide across your naked frame, pressing soft circles, shushing and smoothing out every shudder and shake of your legs. Carmen doesn't tell you the thought of you visibly shaking from him and he only causes his length to stiffen and his mind to reel.

“So..where’s my present?” Carmen’s teasing voice re-emerges, his eyes crinkling as you swipe at him playfully.

“You’re still in me, dick” You reply with a roll of your eyes, falling back against the hardness of his chest

“Mhm, and I didn’t even get to taste you” Carmen murmurs, tracing his fingers along the curve of your waist, cupping your ass as you shudder from his words. There was a finality in it, and you don’t know if you’ll make it to the elevator before he fulfills that very desire.

The obscenity of it, you love it, only Carmen could make you this depraved. And god do you thank him for it.

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#neonovember #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto filth #carmen berzatto x filth #carmen berzatto x smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto filth #carmen berzatto x fluff #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x y/n #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #fiance!carmen berzatto #fiance!carmen berzatto x reader #fiance!carmen berzatto x fem!reader #the bear filth #neo masterlist #neowrites

[laiiaaa]

CINNAMON SUGAR — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.

length 2k

contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice

Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesn’t block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. It’s late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.

He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when you’re asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.

You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. “…Bear?”

“Yeah, ‘s me, baby.” Even at a whisper, he thinks he’s too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.

A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hours’ rest. “You coming to bed soon?”

“Almost,” he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks he’s worthy of. “Needa take a shower first, alright? But I’ll be right back.” 

He could’ve done that much by now—could’ve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing you—but truthfully, waiting any longer would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he could’ve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Okay,” you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.

He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. There’s a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the day’s stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampoo—the one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that he’s been purchasing ever since to keep you happy—before cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better it’d feel, how much more relief he’d get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. You’ve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and you’re waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, he’ll do it.

He hops out of the water like it’s acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, he’ll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing more—you’ll keep him warm enough under the blankets.

It’s only then—when he peels back those final layers—that he realizes he’s been smiling the whole time.

Once he’s settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, you’re turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Y’don’t have to move f’me, yeah? Just sleep, baby.” Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder. 

And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. “ ‘S more comfy this way, Carm.” You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. “You smell good, too.”

He can’t even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesn’t run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. “ ‘S that shampoo you got me a while ago…Sometime this week—” he yawns, and if he weren’t dying to hear your voice a few more times, he’d be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easily— “Sometime this week we can go t’the store, you can pick out another body wash f’me to try, too.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. “How was it today?” The restaurant. His headaches. Richie’s mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.

“Was alright,” he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. “Real busy, so I didn’t get to leave ‘till late, ‘m sorry.”

“ ‘S alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.” You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. “I was gonna ask you to bring something home, but it’s a weekend, so I didn’t wanna bother you in a rush.”

“What’d you want?”

From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds he’s ever heard. “I just wanted some fries, honestly…didn’t feel like going out.”

“Heh,” he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceiling—as if looking at you would make the moment disappear. “I would’ve picked ‘em up for you, ‘r at least had Fak get ‘em to you.”

You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answer’s a bit softer. “Uh-uh, I like them better when you make ‘em.”

“Yeah? ‘ve I been pampering you too much?” He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but it’s all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work he’s put in—all the love he has for you—makes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person he’s sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any critic’s review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and that’s enough.

“Of course you have,” you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. “You’re always so sweet to me, Bear—” one more quick peck just beneath his ear— “love when you cook for me.”

He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he can’t always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: “Y’know, uh…Marcus’s been playing around with recipes…”

He feels you smile against his chest, knowing what’s to come. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an’ I’d never let ‘im serve ‘em, ‘cause, y’know…” He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. “They don’t fit the menu…but uh, he made these…these rolls today…”

“Mhm? ‘M listening…”

Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. “I think you’d like ‘em, he had some classic cinnamon, ‘n…a blueberry lemon goin’…”

“That sounds really good,” you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.

“I know,” he drawls, and he’s a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, “Which is why I said I’d let ‘im fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.”

“Did you really?” The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call. 

He figures that’s why he’s so drawn to you—all the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. “ ‘F course, baby…” 

It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries it’ll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, he’d stop breathing before pulling your hand away. It’s soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when you’re not around.

“I brought…” He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. “I brought you some of the cinnamon rolls…Sugar liked ‘em…they’re on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'…” He’s not sure whether it’s your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed he’s ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.

“Thank you, my love,” slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline. 

And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over him—at least part of him does, the part that’s still awake—because the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle there’s a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesn’t warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.

Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, you’ll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.

And he’ll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmy berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagines #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #carmy the bear #the bear fx #the bear x reader #the bear season 2

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

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

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"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

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[queers-gambit]

Neon Sticky Notes

prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.4k+

note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...

warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!

You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.

It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.

By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.

However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.

So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.

Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.

You had an idea.

When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"

"Yeah, all good."

"Sure? Sound outta breath."

"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."

He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."

"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."

"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."

"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.

You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.

The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!

Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!

Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.

Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!

You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.

Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.

When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.

This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.

Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.

Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!

Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.

Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!

Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!

Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!

Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!

Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.

Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!

Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!

Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!

And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully

Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.

The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..

Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!

And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!

Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.

The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.

You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.

"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.

"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.

He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"

"What'd you get?"

"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.

"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.

"Like it?"

"Are these... My hearts?"

He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."

"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"

He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."

"You'd still be Carmy."

"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."

"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."

"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."

You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.

Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.

You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.

Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."

Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.

Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

#carmy berzatto #carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x female!reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #hulu the bear #fx the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear x you #the bear x y/n #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x f!reader #the bear carmy

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Pretty Little Outfit

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader(fem!)

Summary: With a new job in your grasp, you decide it's time for some new work outfits. Carmy realizes that he can't get over a new skirt that you bought, only to find out you've unlocked a new kink of his.

Warnings: SMUT (fem oral), cursing, masturbation, hair pulling.

A/N: WOOOOO seeing him in the CK ad only feeds the hunger I have for him. Lord have mercy.. This man has too much of a grip on me. Let's say Carmy isn't the greatest at oral first but with a lot of practice (that I'm not against) he would have me in a chokehold. Just one night. That's all I'm asking.

Anyway.. my rant is done!

Enjoy :)

"I look ridiculous" you huffed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You self-consciously pulled at the pencil skirt that was clinging your curves.

You just got a new job and it was in the contract that formal office wear was expected. When you went into the office for the interview, you noticed no one was wearing jeans and sweaters. It was all slacks, skirts and blazers.

You had spent the day frantically running store to store trying to make a new closet for the job that you gladly accepted the previous day.

You started Monday, and you were petrified. You had experience, but you never were in such a high-end environment which you felt also had very high expectations of their employees.

You cursed to yourself as you adjusted the new bra you also bought. It was uncomfortable and tight as hell.

"Fuck" You cursed, feeling panic set in.

You turned around analyzing your clothes to realise that from the back of your white shirt, you could see your bra straps clearly. The one decent shirt you felt somewhat comfortable and it was see through.

You groaned, bringing your hands to your face. Usually, you didn't give a shit but you had a feeling HR wouldn't feel the same.

You took a deep breath in and stood up straight, looking back into the mirror.

"Good morning," you smiled brightly, pretending to lean into a handshake towards the mirror. You were trying to imagine yourself in these clothes in an unknown environment. The more you looked at yourself, the more you started to overthink.

His eyes were on you through the gap on the ajar door. His stare traveled the length of your body and paused at your hips, shifting to your ass. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any audible moan he felt climb up through his throat.

Carmy rarely ever saw you in skirts. He didn't think he had a thing for them but when he unexpectedly came home to see you in the bedroom trying on some clothes he couldn't take his eyes away.

You didn't know he was home. He felt bad spying on you, but he couldn't pull himself away.

Carmy leaned against the door frame, being careful not to make the wood creak. He watched as you bend over to grab something from the clothes bag. His eyes fell on your cleave, which showed through the reflection of the mirror. Your soft plump breasts pressing against the shirt.

He swallowed, feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter. The material straining against his growing dick.

The thoughts that spun in his head, with your legs up on his shoulder, the skirt riding up as he drilled into you. His eyes darkened, imagining you all roughed up in your office wear. Make up smudged, skirt rolled up, shirt wrinkled. Your pretty little outfit completely fucked in. Tainted. Corrupted.

He shook his head softly, trying to clear his mind. He needed to pull himself together before he completely unraveled at the door.

You heard a gentle knock on the door. You saw Carmy enter in while looking at the mirror.

"Hi babe" you greeted, giving a soft smile.

You turned around to see his eyes locked on your body. He stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans with his arms above his head, and his mouth scrunched up like he was trying to hold himself back.

"What ya think?" You did a spin, feeling his stare.

The more he stared, the shyier you got.

"Uh y-you look unbelievable," He stuttered, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know.. I think the skirt is too tight. I can barely walk in it"

You turned back around, showing him the back of it. To which he brought his hand to his face, trying to hide the fact he was forcefully biting his lip. Your eyes flickered to him, and in that moment, you saw the haze in his eyes.

A small smirk crept up on your face.

Your hands ran over your thighs, flattening out any wrinkles in the skirt and seeing your hands travel, wanted Carmy's hands to be there even more.

You continued to look in the mirror briefly, bringing your flirtatious stare back to him through the mirror.

"What do you think about my hair up?" You gather the ends of your hair loosely, holding it there with one hand while looking at him teasingly.

He licked his dry lips and gazed at your neck. He took a couple of steps forward, getting closer behind you. You knew you had him.

You would do it every time you were on top. As you would grind on him, you would bring your hair up the same way. It would only make he want to flip you over and get to that one weak spot you had. The one angle he knew made your shake in complete pleasure. He would feel you milk him, and he would lose it.

With that thought vivid in his head, he leans down and kisses your exposed neck gently. You felt his soft lips pressed against your hot skin.

He placed his hands on your hips and moved them down your sides while you both watched him make his way to your ass.

You let out a light gasp, feeling his grip get tighter.

"Jesus- feel what you're doing to me" He whispered in your ear. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.

He leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt his stiffened dick pressed against your ass. You could feel everything in this tight skirt. His stare was dripping with lust, just want your body rubbing up against his.

"Is this a new bra?" He asked flirtatiously

His hands bring your focus up to your chest, where you watch him lightly trace his finger on top of your cup.

"Mmm hmmm" you hummed, feeling like putty in his grasp.

"Can I get a better look?" He whispered, side eyeing you in the mirror.

You nodded, angling your head to the side as he kissed you a few more times down the neck. He started to unbuttoned one button after another, starting from the bottom, making his way up. With the last button popping open, the shirt gave a peek to your new bra you were wearing. The tip of his fingers gently pulled the shirt away from you, giving him full view from the mirrors reflection.

A small croak escaped his throat, and you heard him swallow, trying to hide it.

He brought his hand up to your new bra and massaged your breast while he pulled his stare up to your eyes. He watched as yours glazed over. He continued to watch you crumble in front of him. He felt you push your ass out, asking him to grind up against you more.

"Carmy... my new clothes.." You whined, feeling yourself get more lost as he felt more of you.

"Keep the skirt on" He ordered, spinning you around and bringing his hands to your face.

"But-"

"But nothing, I'll buy you a new outfit, but.. keep it on," His stare darkened as he played with your lips.

He leaned down, kissing your neck all the way down your chest. He gave wet open kisses to the top of your breasts, massaging them with both hands. You looked down and watched his curls move as he made his way further down. You felt him hike up your skirt, giving him more access to the heat between your legs.

His fingers lightly traveled up the inside of your thighs until he felt a moist patch.

"Fuck, you're all ready for me" He moaned lightly, kissing your covered pussy.

You felt his fingers move your underwear to the side, making them slick with your arousal as he played with your folds. He focused on your clit lightly making you fall into him a little, leaning on his shoulder from the welcomed pressure of his fingers.

He smirked to himself, looking up at you as he worked his fingers back and slowly slipped them in with ease. One finger teasingly first, but he could feel your hunger for the second. With ease, he added another finger.

"Oh shit," you gasped, spreading your legs more trying to hold yourself up.

"Mhmm, good girl," he praised, gently pumping his fingers out of you.

One of your hands went to his hair, and you placed the other one flat against the wall.

Your breath only got more and more shakey. You looked down and watched him bringing his mouth your clit. The sole sight made you pulse. You felt his soft lips pressed against wet ones. His relaxed tongue licking your sensitive bud. Your whole body quivered underneath his tender touch.

You felt yourself building, the pleasurable rhythm his fingers moved at and him sucking your clit made you fight against the urge of climbing higher and higher. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet sounds he was making with his mouth.

Fingers on his other hand were digging into your thigh, holding you steady. His curls tickled your abdomen with every movement he made.

Him watching you above only made him harder. He wanted you to let go. He opened his mouth, giving you wet kisses on your clit, with some light sucking. He pulled away and watched the mess you were. Your chest heaving, your hair tossed, and your brows furrowed with pleasure. He could stare at you forever like this.

"Use me." He breathed out

You opened your eyes to see him gazing up at you. His eyes flickered down to his hand, while his fingers continued to disappear in you.

"W-what?" You stuttered, it getting harder and harder for you to concentrate.

"Use me," He repeated, staring at you with his blown out pupils.

He placed his free hand on top yours that was in his hair. You felt him tighten your grip on his hair.

A grunt came out of his mouth and in that moment, you realized he liked his hair getting pulled.

Your mouth fell open to the thought of him being at your mercy. You watched as he eagerly brought his mouth back to pulsing core.

His tongue lovingly licking your bundle of nerves, with his lips wrapping around and sucking every so often. He could feel your wall gripping onto his fingers. He knew you were close.

"Carmyyy.." You whined, gripping onto his curls.

You felt yourself slowly start to grind your hips into him. A muffled groan came from him, the sound traveling straight to your clit. You fumbled, feeling it travel up your spine.

You felt his hand lift your leg over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into your folds. His finger tips traveled up and down your thigh as he devoured your pussy.

He watched you whimpering out and calling out his name weakly. He couldn't resist, and brought his hand down, palming his harden self in his tight jeans. He hastily unbuckled and unzipped them, giving him a little bit of relief and ease of access. Calvin Klein briefs peeked out from the undone jeans and were stretched against his bulge. He felt the moistness in his underwear from the continuous leaking cock. He half-ass pulled out it, giving himself some relieving strokes from the sight of you fucking his face.

With his sucks and kisses getting sloppier, he passionately focused on your throbbing pussy. He knew you couldn't last much longer. Hell, he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his hand away from his begging erection and wrapped his arm around your thigh. He gently nursing your throbbing clit with his tongue. Slowly, he added his index finger, feeling your lips suck them in as he pumped more.

You looked down and saw his blue love-drunken eyes on you, with a smirk on his face. He started angling his hand, sending another wave through you.

"Oh god.." You cried out, leaning more of your weight on to him.

He pulled his glistening mouth away, "Come f'me," His breath rugged and heavy.

"Carrmmyy-"

"Ssshhh, come on baby girl" He rasped, kissing your inner thigh.

You couldn't fight it anymore. You felt the pressure of pleasure build fast.

"Keep g-goin'" you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.

He leaned in and went back to sucking your clit. He felt your hips faulter feeling his tongue there again. Your thrusts became more desperate as you chased the high that he was inflicting on your pussy. He looked up seeing your mouth open in pure ecstasy.

You felt his fingers hit that one spot over and over again and mixed with his tongue lapping up your clit, you couldn't hold on any longer.

"Carm- Babe... I'm comin-" You gasped, your grip tightening on his hair.

He hungrily devouring your pussy, sucking on your clit and lips as your legs shook around him.

As he watched you fall apart in front of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He impulsively brought his hand down to his weeping cock and stroked himself eagerly while lapping up your juices. He felt you tug his hair harder, and with that he let out a pleasurable moan.

The wave washed over you with the tension in your body melting away with orgasm. Your head fell back, breathing rapidly, trying to recover from the rush that was still flowing in your veins.

Your eyes fluttered open, and fell on Carmy below you gently kissing your outer lips before easing his fingers out of you, his hand completely covered in your juices. He pecked your inner thigh a couple of times before bringing your leg down from his shoulder.

As he pulled away from you, your eyes landed on white globs all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.

"Babe... Did you?" You asked a cheeky smile crept up on your face.

"Yea- Yeah I did" He looked down and chuckled.

You leaned down bringing him into a kiss, tasting yourself off of him. His tongue brushing against yours. With him still on his knees, he gently pulled down, the now, wrinkled pencil skirt.

"I think I owe you a skirt" He grinned, as you helped him up to his feet,

"I think so." You looked down, flattening the wrinkled with both hands.

"Are you going to be wearing skirts every day?" He raised an eyebrow, playing with the buttons on your shirt.

"Uh.. Most likely"

He sucked in his lips and glanced away for a moment.

"That's going to be hard" He hummed bringing his blue eyes back down to yours.

"I'll make sure it won't be an issue" You winked before giggling

A smile played on his lips before he leaned into give you a tender kiss.

"Here, let's get this off," you tugged the bottom of his t-shirt.

He raised his arms, letting you slip the shirt off of him and being met with his toned chest that only made you want to go for round two.

You could feel your sensitive pussy murmur awake from the thought of him bending you over and railing you. The thought made your stomach twist with excitement.

"C'mon, let's go take a shower" You teasingly smiled, and grabbed his undone belt that was still wrapped around his jeans making him follow you to the bathroom obediently.

Masterlist of fics

#fanfic #fluff #smut #fanfiction #love #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy x reader #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fx

[superhoeva]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧 - 𝐜. 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 (𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, +𝟏𝟖) | had something like this happen to me the other day and it immediately made me think of bear + bunny <3

"bunny. hey, nope. no fuckin' way, you know the rules."

retracting your hand from the passenger door handle, you sigh with a slight smile. it was worth a shot.

"carmen, i open the door for myself all the time," you remind the man, whose already shaking his head. "plus, your hands are full. at least let me help with that–"

he cuts you off with a fast kiss to your lips. shuffling the three large bags of groceries in his hands, carmen sniffs in a lung full of fall air.

"i told you, 'm good. and no, not when you're with me, you don't. gimme a sec to put this in the back, yeah? please don't touch the door."

carmen ignores your pout and huff, placing the bags full of groceries in the trunk before hurrying back over to you.

"c'mere," he murmurs, pecking your nose before moving his mouth to yours. it's soft but still manages to steal away the breath from your lungs.

he only pulls away to look you in the eye, whispering out a small, "i love you, bunny. very much."

"love you more, bear," you whisper back, smiling at the flutters that travel through your chest.

"not possible," carmen tells you, moving to open the door. "hop in, gorgeous."

・゜゜・．

it's been at least thirty seconds, and he still will not move.

"bear, please."

carmen stands still, arms crossed with an unimpressed look on his face that reads i can do this shit all day.

"bear."

"bunny."

"carmen, please just go, we're gonna be late."

"no. not 'til you go first," he states, frowning up at the fact you're still holding the door for him.

shoulders sagging, you blink at carmen.

"baby, i'm just trying to be nice. hold the door like you always do for me."

carmen shakes his head with a lick to his lips.

"that's not necessary, pretty girl," carmen tells you softly, tenderly brushing the pad of his thumb against your jaw. the weight of the door leaves you as carmen grips the wood, pulling it back so he's the one holding it. "go, i got it. swear."

sighing, you grab carmen's hand and step through the doorframe. he trails behind you, shutting and locking the door before turning to look at you.

tightening his grip around your hand, he raises it to his lips to press a long kiss against the back of your palm.

"c'mon, let's go. before we're late."

carmen snickers at the light smack you give his arm.

the bunny and the bear au || bunny!reader and bear thoughts? <3

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x black reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #au: the bunny and the bear

[ariisheresstuff]

The Hormones

Pairings: Carmy x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: You decided to go with Carmy to work, Carmy hesitated with bringing you along with you. You been dealing with pregnancy hormones recently. With the hormones hitting you, Richie had enough and lashes out on you making you upset.

Genre: Angst to comfort

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, mentions of being pregnant, Richie being mean, Yelling.

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open! 💜

“Alright baby, I’m off to work.” Carmen announces as walks over to you in the kitchen. He places a hand on your bump rubbing it gently before kissing your forehead.

“Actually, Carmy?” You said making him go back to face you.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked as he softly cupped your face worriedly. You smiled at him being so protective of you.

“Can I come with you today? I’m tired of being home by myself.” You said with pleading eyes.

Carmen sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Are you sure babe? I don’t want you getting tired of being bored at the place. Plus, you should be resting.” Carmen loves when you come along with him to work, but with your hormones being more stronger and you being more sensitive, he hesitated. You literally started to cry over tying your shoe because your stomach was in the way.

You pouted, “Please Carmy? I promise I won’t cause trouble I just wanna be with you, I get sad when I’m alone here.” Your eyes were already watering making Carmen panic.

“Okay, okay baby, don’t get upset. I hate when you get upset, it hurts me. Of course you can come, but if things to start to overwhelm you, you tell me okay?” You nodded making him smile and peck your lips. He grabbed your hand as the two you of walked out of the apartment.

“Look who finally showed up!” Richie announced as Carmen walked in with you, Carmen rolled his eyes.

“Shut the fuck Richie, get to work.” Carmen shook his head as he led you through the kitchen.

“What brings you here sweets?” Richie asked you as he gave you a hug, you smiled.

“Didn’t feel like staying home, I need to get out and enjoy life before the little one comes.” Richie nodded as he continued to work.

Tina smiled as she walked up to you giving you a hug and a kiss before rubbing your bump. “How are you doing mama? Baby doing good?”

You smiled at Tina’s comfort, “Healthy baby, but it’s killing me.” You whined making Tina frown.

“Aye, poor thing. You need anything?”

“Not right now, I’m okay thank you.” Carmen yelled something at the others, as you walked towards his office.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” You quickly turned to see Sydney waving, you quickly smiled at you and gave her a hug.

“Hey Syd! How you doing?”

“Good, good, and you?”

“Ugh, it’s hard dealing with a fetus in your stomach.” You joked as you rubbed your bump.

“Well hey, almost time y’know?”

You nodded with a smile, “I can’t wait.” You quickly said goodbye as Carmen led you to sit in his office chair.

“You hungry or anything?” He asked you as he ran a hand over your back, you shook your head.

“Not at the moment.” You shrugged

“Alright, let me know if anything.” He quickly gave you a kiss to your lips making you sigh.

“Love you.” You said with a smile making him smile back.

“Love you more.”

It’s been over two hours already and you starting to get cranky. You were whining as you had your head down. Your back was killing you and you felt a headache coming on from the heat from the kitchen. You whined as you slowly got up before wincing as your back started to hurt. You rubbed your bump as you opened the office door entering the kitchen.

“Guys, I fucking told you a million times! Get your shit together, I’m not fucking playing!” Carmen yelled as everyone yelled “Yes Chef!” In unison. Carmen sighed before he spotted you with a frown on your face.

“Hey baby, you okay? What’s wrong?” He cupped your face as he examined your features.

“I’m getting hungry carm, it’s hot I’m dying! And my back is hurting!” You said a little too loud, Carmen cursed in his mind knowing you were getting cranky.

“I’m sorry babe, you wanna sit by the booths? You might cool off better there. And you want something to eat?” He led you to the entrance of the diner, before you stopped him.

“No Carmen, nothing is helping me. I’m tired and hungry and it’s making me upset!” You could feel tears forming making Carmen cringe.

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax, I know baby. I’m sorry that you’re going through this. Just take a deep breath and I’ll make you something to eat, what do you feel like having, hm?” He said softly not wanting to make you more upset, he quickly rubbed your back making you whimper as small tears fell down your face.

“I-I I don’t know what I want to eat! Basically anything I eat makes me puke! I can’t take it anymore!” You were starting to get more loud making everyone in the kitchen look at you and Richie finally blew it.

“Jesus Christ! Why did you even come if you’re gonna act like a bitch?” Richie yelled from the other side, everyone turned to look at Richie who had a frown on his face.

“Richie!” Carmen yelled back at his cousin making Richie shake his head.

“Nah! Because why the fuck is she here if she’s gonna be bitchy about everything? Make that make sense to me!”

“Richie, you better shut the fuck up! She’s pregnant, I don’t care if she’s here or not! Don’t make me fucking hurt you cousin!”

“Let me see you try, jagoff.” Richie said with a sarcastic chuckle. Carmen’s eyes twitched.

“Don’t even start with me Richie! You’re the fucking jagoff, don’t start with that bullshit I-

Carmen stopped his yelling when he heard a sniffle and a whimper. Everyone turned to look at you, tears fell down your face as you hiccuped.

“I-I’m sorry.” You said through broken sobs, everyone just froze as they watched you cry.

“Baby.” Carmen said softly as he quickly walked over to you. “Hey, look at me.” You pushed his hands away as you shook your head. You then turned around and walked over to the back door, you opened the door as you went outside to the cool breeze.

Everyone just stood there in silence, then looked at Richie.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Richie! How dare you do such a thing to that poor girl! She’s pregnant for god sake!” Tina yelled at Richie as she slapped his arm with a frown.

“Not cool Richie, seriously.” Marcus said with a shook of his head as he followed Tina outside.

“Do better Richie, honestly.” Sydney said as she followed the rest outside to console you.

Richie just stood there frozen with his mouth slightly opened.

“What the fuck is your problem!?!” Carmen roared as he shoved Richie into a wall nearby, making Richie stumble.

“Chill Carmen!”

“No, you chill! How are you gonna say that to her huh?!?! Don’t you have a kid?!?! Didn’t you deal with this too?!? How dare you come at Y/N like that! She didn’t deserve that shit! She’s seven fucking months pregnant! Of course she’s gonna feel like shit!” All Carmen saw was red as his shoulders rose up and down from his yelling rant. His heart was pounding as his hand shook under Richie’s shirt he had a grip on.

“Chill the fuck out Carmen! I’m sorry, that just came over me! I mean it! I didn’t mean for that happen, I just let my inner thoughts get to me! I know she didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry alright?” Richie said in a calming voice to get Carmen to calm down.

Carmen gave him a glare as he let go his shirt, “You better fucking apologize to her, not me. Understand?” Richie nodded with hands in surrender, Carmen huffed as he first walked outside, Richie behind him.

You had your head buried in your hands as Tina comforted you, your head rested on her shoulder as she rubbed your back in comfort , your shoulders shook with each sob.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for-for that to-to happen.” You whimpered, making Tina shake her head.

“Nonsense mija, you are carrying a child. You have every right to feel this way. Richie is being an asshole, don’t let him get to you mama.”

You removed your hand away from your face before looking up to see Carmen and Richie. Tina moved away but not before giving your head a peck as she told everyone to go back inside, leaving you, Carmen, and Richie alone.

You looked down at your feet, not making eye contact with either of the men. Carmen didn’t say anything as he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you.

You couldn’t help but feel more tears fall down as you softly cried into his chest. Carmen softly shushed you as he rubbed your back knowing it was hurting you. He whispered sweet nothing in your ear as he kissed your head and forehead repeatedly.

“I-I I’m sorry, I didn’t m-mean for this to happen.” You said through hiccups, Carmen shook his head.

“Hey, no, stop that. This wasn’t your fault baby. You’re pregnant, you have every right to be mad, upset, and sad. This is a hard time for you. But you should’ve stayed home baby. It’s always chaotic here, and I don’t want that to overwhelm you. I want you to be okay and feel comfortable. I know it’s hard for you, but I’m here always for you okay?”

He cupped your face making you look up at him, your lip trembled as tears fell down your cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, before kissing your lips a few times. He gave you a hug making you wrap your arms around his waist, enjoying his touch.

“I love you, y’know that?” He said softly in your ear making you nod in his chest. He swayed you back and forth before facing Richie, who had a frown on his face.

“I think Richie has something to say to you too.” Carmen said softly making you open your eyes to see Richie with a sad frown. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you Y/N, I really am. I admit I was being a jagoff and all that shit I said was wrong and that you don’t deserve that. But, I hope you can forgive me because you’re my family and I don’t want to hurt you like that again.”

You actually felt another set of tears coming at Richie’s apology, you loved Richie as family. You hated what he said to you, but how can you not forgive him.

“Oh Richie, of course I forgive you. I’m sorry that I triggered you to go off on me. I’m sorry, you’re a sweet man and I know you didn’t mean it.” You hiccuped as you walked over to Richie before wrapping your arms around his waist bringing him into a hug. Richie’s eyes went wide, not expecting you to forgive him so easily. He tensed up as you hugged him, but quickly relaxed and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry kid, really. I was an asshole for that.” He said softly as he rubbed your back in comfort making you look up at him with a smile. You stood on your tippy toes before pecking his cheek with a smile making him smile back at you. You turned to face Carmen who walked over to you and Richie.

“Don’t pull that shit again cousin or I swear I will beat your ass.” Richie rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah, yeah cousin, I got it. Jesus.” He shook his head making you chuckle a bit at the two men.

“You still hungry baby?” Carmen asked you as the three of you walked back into the kitchen. You nodded your head at that.

“I’m having those cravings again actually.” You said as you held onto Carmen’s hand. He led you to the booths in the front, Carmy smiled.

“What’s the craving today?” Carmen said as the two of you sat down at a booth.

“Pickles and ice cream.” You said with a smile making Carmen give you a disgusting look. You smacked his arm before laughing.

“How the fuck do you enjoy that?” He said as he got up, you laughed.

“It’s not me, it’s the baby!” You put your hands up in surrender.

“Sure it is baby.” He said with a smile before leaning down to kiss you before entering the kitchen.

“Marcus! Get me a cup of the ice cream you made and Tina! Get me some pickles! Y/N is having her weird ass cravings again!”

“Carmen! Don’t announce it to everyone!

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

#the bear #the bear series #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmy x Reader #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white x reader #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto masterlist #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto the bear #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmy x y/n #carmy x fem!reader #carmy angst #carmy fluff #carmy comfort #carmy fanfic #the bear fanfic #the bear s1 #the bear hulu #the bear s2 #richie the bear #carmy berzatto