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daydreamgoddess14 · 8 months

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Aspirations pt. 6 - The Finale!

Sydcarmy Masterlist

Aspirations previous chapters: CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Full Masterlist

Here we go, it's the end 😥 I hope this chapter wraps everything up for you and you enjoy it. I've had an absolute ball writing this - loved every second! Thank you so much for reading, commenting, sending the sweetest messages - you guys are AMAZING! 😘

We switch it over to Carmy's POV and there is also some smut in this here chapter 🔥

I listened to a couple of songs in particular when I wrote this chapter - Hozier Take Me to Church just had me picturing Carmy worshiping Syd for like, the rest of his damn life, and Taylor Swift Dress - in particular the bridge:

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

All of this silence and patience

Pining and anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you

Anyway, enough talking. Fingers crossed I stuck the landing with this 9k (wtf?!) final chapter! 💜

~~~~~~~~

From the moment she stepped into his office and asked what he was doing in Chicago, he knew he was in trouble. She'd painstakingly won over every member of the crew one by one, called him out on his bullshit and helped build The Bear up from literal rubble. She'd stabbed Richie and then become one of his closest friends within the space of 6 months, she'd been a source of support for Nat, and she'd raised up Tina and Marcus in particular. In short, he had no idea how he'd gotten to this point of his life without her in his corner, but he knew now that he couldn't live without her. She was his constant, his north star, his fucking guiding light. He could acknowledge that to himself right away, but it took those final days before opening for him to realize that Syd was also pure love. Real, raw and honest. Not some dreamlike, fictional, glossed over version, but messy and sometimes very fucked up. The last thing he'd wanted to do was destroy it, so he'd taken what he'd thought was the safest path - to hold it at arm's length and protect it. Protect her.

“I thought… I thought we could get over what you said in the walk-in. I thought I could be the one to show you that you can have the things you talked about. That damn restaurant doesn’t have to run you into the ground - you can have a life as well, you know?” He didn’t say anything, looked at his hands and tried to find the words to apologize.

“The restaurant is my life, Claire. It was never fair for me to expect you to put up with that. I promise I never intended to make you second best, you deserve so much fucking more than that. But I can’t be the one to give it to you. I’ve got too much shit going on and I can’t drag you into it.”

“So you’re finally calling it?” She sighed. He nodded,

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Carmen. I don’t know what you think you deserve or what you're looking for… but for what it’s worth I do hope you find it. Don’t end up like Mikey.” He studied his hands, he could make out a faint crescent shape on his palm, in the soft pad under his thumb, from where Syd had gripped his hand with her own last night in the kitchen. Their kitchen. He had a faint bite mark on his shoulder as well, a small bruise. He wondered vaguely if she had similar marks.

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

He felt like a weight had been lifted. Not from breaking things off with Claire, although that was certainly the catalyst, but from the weight of expectation. He’d gone from the restaurant to take Syd home, where they’d shyly said goodbye. He’d then gone home and slept for all of three hours before deep cleaning his apartment. He was on Claire’s doorstep with coffee before 9am and in Natalie’s kitchen by 11am.

“I broke it off with Claire.” He said quietly, taking the bottle of milk and checking the temperature on the back of his hand.

“I know.”

“Did she call you already?” Satisfied with the temperature, he leaned Mikey back and put the silicone teat to his mouth.

“No honey, I just know. Sit him up a little more, it might take him a minute to settle - breastfed babies don’t always take to bottles, so sometimes he needs a little bit of encouragement. That’s it, perfect.” She guided his elbow into a more comfortable position and watched with pride as Mikey fed.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

“No. I want you to want to tell me.” She put her feet up next to his on the coffee table. “Y’know, it’s not the best time to learn shit - immediately after having a baby. Hormones, lack of sleep, you’re bleeding like a fucking murder victim… but they just kick you right out of that hospital and say ‘see ya later’ and you’re expected to know how to breastfeed them, how to burp them, change them, understand their every need… it’s fucked up. And no one mothers the mother, y’know?”

“You have a Pete.”

“I do have a Pete, and he is incredible. Gets right in there with the shit and the vomit.” She laughed, “It’s not Mikey’s job to teach me those things. It’s not his responsibility to be a ‘good’ baby, whatever the fuck that means. His job is just ‘baby’.”

“Where’re you going with this, Nat?”

“You don’t call me Sugar anymore.” She stated.

“No. I try not to.”

“Why?”

“I guess I don’t want you to feel put down. It’s not a nice nickname, it didn’t come from a nice place.”

“No. It was a way of belittling me. It was another way for mom to make me feel shitty about myself. And you recognizing that, Carmy? Tells me you’re on the right path. Sit him up and put your hand under his chin, now rub his back.” He did as he was told, waiting for her to continue. “I… I’ve realized a lot in the last few months. Pretty much since mom didn’t show up to Family Night?”

“Oh yeah?” Mikey let out a loud burp, making them both smile.

“I’m not responsible for her, I never was. We didn’t fail her as kids, she failed us as a mother, Carmen. She was emotionally manipulative, she didn’t always care for us properly and now as adults, we are fucked up because of her.” Carmy turned to look at Nat, expecting tears, but she looked at peace. “I have had to work really hard to unlearn some of the stuff I thought was right but really isn’t.” She turned her full body to address him properly, “Claire told me what you said when you were in the walk-in? I didn’t get it word for word, but something about not needing to give or receive amusement or enjoyment?” Mikey balled his little fists as he finished the bottle, Carmy sat him back up for another burp under Nat’s watchful eye. She nodded as he put his hand under the baby’s chin to help him.

“Yeah, I said some pretty dark shit.”

“It’s not true. You do need to receive those things - that’s what makes a life, Carmy. And just because you feel like you didn’t deserve to get those things from Claire, or want to give them to her, doesn’t mean you don’t already provide them unintentionally. You do it for everyone who works for us, our friends. For Richie, for Syd, for Mikey… I think you need to think about the difference between doing something intentionally and unintentionally. They’re not a party piece or a grand gesture. They’re supposed to be as natural as breathing. So when you buy Richie a pack of smokes cos you know he’s about to run out, when you give Tina a random night off just cos she looks a bit tired?”

“That’s just… it’s -”

“It’s love, Carmy. It’s love. And if you found it hard with Claire, if it didn’t come easily, then it’s not because you’re a disgustingly horrible human being! It’s simply because you don’t love her. You can’t force that feeling. It’ll destroy you.” He felt her eyes on him, watching him as he put the baby on his legs so he could sit up and face them both. “I love you, Carmy. You have got to stop being your own worst enemy and actually let us love you.” Mikey gurgled and held up a little fist, “or this kid is gonna kick your ass.” She teased, Mikey giggled.

“You’re right.”

“I know I am. You gonna stay for lunch?” She asked, getting up and clearing their coffee cups.

“Yeah. Yo, Nat?” She turned back to look at him, “I love you too.”

On Monday, with Nat’s words still ringing in his ear, Carmy made his way through the front of the restaurant and locked the door behind him. He could see through the window to the kitchen immediately, Syd was at one of the stations with her back to the window, swaying on the spot and… singing?

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy - no, no Chef, that’s Auntie Syd’s knife and your mama would fucking kill me if you touch it. I’ll teach you when you’re a little older - when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take - please don’t take the broccoli, you are just like your Uncle Carmy, do you know that? - Please don’t take my sunshine away.” She turned and he could see that she had Mikey in a baby carrier strapped to her chest and facing outwards, “You’re too cute. Oh! Happy smile! You like being called a cutie, huh? Well, it won’t last forever so take it while you can buddy. Although, Jesus kid, if you keep those baby blues then we’re all doomed. Trust me, I was totally fucking gone the day I stepped into this place.” He watched her wipe down where she’d been chopping vegetables and put the knife away. She moved out of sight but came back with a small cup of flour which she sprinkled onto the work surface, “there you go baby Bear, shall we draw in the flour? Shall we make a chef outta you when you're older? Just like Uncle Carmy and Uncle Mikey. That’s right! You like Uncle Carmy, huh? Me too, Chef, high five!” The baby babbled and waved his hands wildly in the flour, covering them both in fine powder, “I didn’t know Uncle Mikey, but I promise mama and Uncle Carmy will tell you all about him. Hey, Chef, we don’t put our hands in our mouth when we’re working, ok? It’s gross. For other people, I mean.” She pulled a towel from her apron and wiped his hands and mouth. Her voice dropped a little and she spoke so quietly he couldn’t hear her for a few minutes, but he stayed near the door, watching her brush flour out of Mikey’s curls and clearing up their mess. “... and when you’re 16 you can come and work here with me and Uncle Carmy and we’ll teach you everything. You’ll get so good when he teaches you. And then when you’re bigger you can go with Marcus to wherever Luca is and learn pastry.” He cried out a little, “I know, I know. I feel the same about pastry, Chef, but you gotta learn the whole thing if you’re gonna be as good as Uncle Carm, right? Shall we get you one of those bullshit fuckin’ stars? Yeah? Baby Berzatto, the youngest Michelin star holder in the whole fuckin’ world?” She twirled on the spot as he giggled. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched her moving around the kitchen, getting ingredients out and putting them in the correct sections, checking off the list on what needed to be done and when. So busy, and yet taking time with his nephew with such care and love. He was blown away initially, but instantly remembered what he’d said to her under the table at Family night,

“You love taking care of people.” He pushed through the swing door and she looked up with a smile,

“Hey Mikey, look! Uncle Carm’s here.” She said brightly, ignoring his statement. Mikey kicked his legs in free air from his carrier and waved his chubby arms around. “Is it me or does he, like, age so much so quickly?”

“He rolled over yesterday,” Carmy told her with a smile,

“Fuck off, no way?!”

“For real. And uhh, I think I just unlocked a new favorite kitchen memory.” She looked up sharply, a shy smile breaking out across her face.

“Hmm. Well at least this one is family friendly.” She retorted.

“Ahh yeah. Think I’ll keep the other one quiet. Where’s Nat?”

“Just running a couple of errands. I said I’d watch Mikey so she could get them done quicker. I was here early.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that.”

“Heard. Can we talk later?”

“Sure. We’ll find some time.”

“Ok, good. Can I take him, is that ok?”

“God, please do, he’s heavy!” She put a hand on Mikey’s belly and unclipped one of the straps so that Carmy could lift him up and out of the carrier, then she unclipped the whole thing and went to hang it up in the office.

“So you’re gonna coach him to a star, huh?”

“How much did you hear?” She asked warily. He waved a hand, brushing off her embarrassment,

“Just the star.”

“Good. I’m taking advantage of being able to talk shit about you while he doesn’t understand.” She teased. He didn’t call her out on the lie. Nat came back and the others started to arrive. Mikey was happily passed around various sections all morning while Nat worked. Carmy took him through to the office just as she was packing her bag,

“Ready to take him back?”

“For sure, I’ve missed him! Hi sweetheart - have you had fun with your kitchen family out there?!” She cooed. “You ok, how’re you feeling today?” She asked Carmy.

“Yeah, I’m good. Been thinking about everything you said yesterday. I’m gonna just… soak this in a little, I guess?” He gestured out to the kitchen where there was happy chatter. Tina was telling a dirty joke, and as the punchline landed, he heard Syd and Richie’s roars of laughter.

“I think that’s a very good idea. Be with the ones you love, Carm and for fucksake let us love you back.”

“Yes, Chef.” He smiled.

“It’s not a cure to being a better person, but it’s a start.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m… I’m really… it’s good to get back to this, right?” He pointed between them both,

“Getting along? Yeah, Carm. It’s good.” She put the baby into the carseat and stood to hug him tightly. “I love you.” She whispered.

“It’s fucking freezing out here.” Syd complained, he could see her pulling her jacket tighter around her, trying to shrink into it further. Underneath, she’d pulled on his sweater - yet again - and Richie’s gloves which were miles too big for her hands.

“Next time, I’ll find somewhere warm for us to talk?” He teased,

“That’d be ideal, thanks. So what’s up?”

“Just thought we should… y’know, check in?”

“After Saturday night?”

“Yeah. You ok?”

“Well, it’s a little weird. And totally fucked up. But I don’t want to go back to barely speaking to you. Like, I’ll put up with this insane awkwardness just so I don’t have to avoid you.”

“I hated when you avoided me.”

“Me too.” She said, studying the broken glass shards mingling with the concrete on the ground.

“I broke up with Claire.” She didn’t look up, but he saw her eyes widen a little.

“Oh. How’d it go?”

“About as well as you’d expect.”

“Yeah.” She breathed, puffs of air visible. They fell silent again.

“And I had a really good talk with Nat. About, like, fuckin’ parental trauma and all that shit and how it effects us as we get older? It’s fucked up.”

“It is. I’ve talked to her about it before as well.” He looked up, surprised, “You weren’t talking to her. Not really. Or not listening, at least. She just wanted to feel heard.” He nodded,

“I just… I want you to know that I want to be a better person. I know I’ve said it a million fucking times, I was always trying to do it for someone else though? I thought I should be doing it for you or Nat, but I should be doing it for myself.”

“You can’t be better for us if you’re not doing it for yourself. My dad’s sister always said you can’t pour from an empty cup.” She mused.

“How do you do it?” He asked, curiously.

“I listen to my heart. Figure out what it needs. I watch movies with my dad, I laugh with my friends in there,” she pointed into the restaurant, “I cook for them. I cook for you or Nat or my dad. I hang out with Mikey. I watch you cook. I let my family look after me and love me when I need it. Like you said, I love taking care of people, but it’s nice to have it returned.”

“You’re too fuckin’ smart for this place.”

“Fuck off,” she pushed his shoulder,

"You watch me cook?"

"Yeah, I do. It's… therapeutic. Oh, and if you think that just because you broke up with Claire I’m gonna jump -”

“I would never expect that. Never. Let’s just… get back to where we were and then see what happens?” He suggested, taking her hand. She nodded,

“Great idea, Chef.” He kissed her palm and listened to Tina singing from the kitchen.

Carmy could tell Richie was about to hit the roof. He bounced on his heels and fidgeted for the last hour of service but everytime someone asked, he’d give them the brush off.

“Chef, could you tell Richie to take a step back please?” Syd sighed, rolling her eyes at Richie who was standing so closely behind her she could hardly use her knife. Carmy laughed,

“C’mon cousin, back it up. Whatever it is, why don’t you just tell us?”

“Can’t, we need to wait til we’re closed.”

“Well then get the fuck outta our kitchen and encourage people to finish up?” Carmy smiled at Syd’s use of our kitchen.

“Fine, fine but you guys wait. You just fuckin’ wait.”

“Can I have another 3 duck and 2 sirloin please?”

“Yes, Chef.” The crew chimed back to him. Tina brought the plum sauce over for him to try,

“Needs something, Syd, check this?” He handed her a spoon,

“Half a teaspoon of the winter spice mix.”

“Exactly. Thank you. Tina, you ok with that, Chef?”

“Sure thing Jeff.”

“Let it incorporate for another five minutes, we’ve got time.”

“Make it eight minutes, Chef? My dauphinoise are fucked.” Syd asked, shooting her potatoes a look of disdain.

“Heard Chef. Eight minutes, Chefs.” He looked over at Syd, “Yo, you good?”

“Yeah, too much garlic.”

“No such thing!” At least three people replied, including Carmy.

“I’ll save it for you then, Chef.” She smiled at him over the pass. Richie bounced back and forth with plates and information until he was finally able to lock the front door. He burst back into the kitchen as Syd and Carmy were sharing the extra garlicky dauphinoise.

“Here we go.” Carmy murmured, receiving an elbow to the ribs.

“What you got for us Richie?” She asked, pointedly ignoring Carmy.

“Would you like to hear a review?”

“From?”

“A Mrs Beata Jerimovich, my wonderful grandmother -” Carmy threw a towel at his head,

“Fuckin’ dipshit.”

“Kidding, kidding. It’s only the motherfuckin’ Food and Beverage Magazine!” There were whoops and cheers all round, but next to him, he felt Syd tremble. He discreetly brushed her little finger with his own and heard her sigh softly. “Ahem!” Richie cleared his throat, “The Bear, Chicago…” he held them in suspense, Marcus beat a drumroll on the counter while Tina bellowed at Richie,

“Richie, fuckin’ tell us, pendejo!”

“Five. Fuckin’. Stars. Chefs!” They were euphoric. Manny and Angel banged pots together, Tina wrapped her arms around Syd and Richie hugged Carmy. As soon as he saw Tina let go of her, he first reached out for the shorter woman who patted his cheek, and then for Syd. He counted down from 10 in his head so as not to hold onto her for too long. He made every second count. His senses clambered to be reminded of the softness of her skin, the fullness of her lips, how perfectly her body fit against his. He felt rather than heard the faintest moan drag from her body as his lips grazed her earlobe, and then he reluctantly let her go. “If you’ll allow me to read some of it to you, Chefs?” Carmy leaned back on the counter and felt Syd do the same next to him, innocently close to those around them but the smallest amount closer than she had been standing before. He let his arm rest against hers and let their knees knock gently together as Richie spoke. “I had the wonderful experience of dining at The Bear around a month ago, during the first week of their festive menu. It was a Saturday night and they had been fully booked for months… Hey, wasn’t that the weekend of bad dates? Fish guy is still salty that he can’t get a date around here anymore.” Carmy locked eyes with Syd, she bit her lip to hide her small smile.

“Good, I’m sure he’s working on a wonderful relationship with his right hand.” She pointed out to sniggers.

“Hey, I object to that.”

“Gross Richie, carry on please?”

“Ok, ok. I tried the spiced pumpkin soup with plaice, the scallop ceviche, the duck in plum sauce and blah blah blah, those are the new dishes, looks like they tried everything though, man. Ok, here we go, here we go - the food was nothing short of miraculous. Every element and ingredient held its own, the service was personal and impeccable, the atmosphere was joyous.” He paused for long enough for the squeals of delight to die down, struggling to be heard, “Exec Chef, Carmen Berzatto - formerly of Noma and The French Laundry - and his partner, CDC Sydney Adamu, have created close to perfection. Whatever their secret is, may they hold onto it. I am already booked back for another visit, my only disappointment is that I have to wait 6 months for it! If they aren’t already looking at this spectacular place for recognition in March, the Michelin guide needs to get it on their list very quickly. A star certainly cannot be too far out of reach.” Richie’s voice quivered with emotion, “It goes on and on… that’s us, man. This is talkin’ about us.” He said, holding the magazine aloft. “I fuckin’ love you guys.” Syd pushed herself off the counter and into his arms. He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, “you did that, Chef. You fuckin’ did that.” He said to her, “fuckin’ love you Syd.” There was another mass movement of people clinging to each other. Carmy noticed Syd slip into the walk-in once Richie had let her go. He got caught up with Ebra and Marcus before he could get there,

“You good, Chef?” She was leaning against the back wall with her head in her hands, she nodded without moving them, “in front.” He whispered once he was standing directly in front of her, not wanting to startle her. She threw her arms around his neck, he could feel her tears in the neckline of his jacket and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“Thank you.” She said, her warm breath against his collar. He laughed,

“No, this is all you, baby. All you.” She pulled away from him, allowing him space which he used to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “C’mon, Tina’s looking for you.” He told her, knowing there were too many eyes outside for them to be alone. She went for the door handle but it was pulled from her reach and Richie joined them,

“I’m only in here so that when you both leave, it doesn’t look like you’ve been makin’ out in here, ok?”

“Richie, I came in here so I didn’t cry in front of everyone.” Syd told him, giving him a gentle shove.

“Seriously? Fuck me, I wish I’d been right first time. Syd, honey, I bawled my eyes out - they’re all cryin’ out there. No one cares!”

“Fuck, I’m not tellin’ em when we get Syd’s star. That’s on you, cuz.” Carmy pointed to Richie.

“Can we stop talking about stars? And stop calling it mine? I’m gonna hurl.”

“No, no hurling, we’re goin’ out. Tina wants shots and karaoke.”

“Oh fuck no. No shots.” Syd pushed between them to get out of the walk-in.

“It’s a yes to karaoke though, right?” Richie called out, following her. Clean down had never been so fast or willingly taken on, Manny turned up the radio and the atmosphere was electric. Anyone crossing the room was hindered by hugs along the way and no one seemed to want to let go of each other. Carmy looked out at the crew and for what felt like the first time in forever, didn’t mask his smile or hide his emotions. The door to the office was partially closed and he couldn’t see Syd so he knocked softly. He heard his sister’s voice via Facetime.

“I swear to god Syd, this is so exciting! Michelin are gonna come knocking. I can tell. They might have already been!”

“I hope they didn’t come before November, it’s gonna be that plum sauce that clinches it.” She smiled at Carmy as he came in and joined her on the screen,

“Carmy! I’m so proud, I wish I could be there to celebrate with you all.”

“It’s just a review, Nat.”

“But it’s an incredible review, and that magazine is, like, insane! It’s a precursor to more, trust me.” He stood close to Syd, leaning down over her shoulder so they could both fit into the video call, his cheek almost pressed against hers. "This right here,” she held up Mikey, “100% of The Bear right in this call! Ok, you guys go have fun. I am so ridiculously proud of you both and I love you both so much.”

“Love you sis, see you later.” Syd smiled, Nat’s eyebrows raised a little as Carmy turned to look at her.

“Bye guys.” She hung up the call with a smile.

“Sorry, I just thought she’d want to know and I knew they’d never let you escape. I’m amazed Tina has let you go.”

“Yeah, me too. She’s stronger than she looks.”

“Right?! It’s crazy! Are we done out there?” She stood from the desk,

“Yeah, we’re heading out now.”

“Ok, I’m on my way then.” She cocked her head towards the door, “C’mon. I suspect the first round is gonna be on us.”

“Did you just call Nat, sis?”

“Yeah,” she shook her head, “never underestimate the strength of female friendships, Carm.” She told him sagely, leaving him alone in the office.

The bar was hot and crowded, standard for a Saturday night. The karaoke was predictably awful, and Richie was wandering between the three booths they'd managed to grab trying to get people to sign up and sing. Carmy was grateful for the spare jeans and t-shirt he kept in his locker, and it turned out nearly everyone else kept some kind of 'to go' bag either at work or with them, ready for those magical evenings where they finished early, had a date after work or got 5 star reviews in one of the biggest hospitality industry magazines in the world. He was pinned into his booth by Ebra on one side and Neil on the other, both talking over the table to each other and leaving him stuck. Tina was talking Marcus into a duet and it looked like Gary, Manny and Angel were playing some obscure drinking game. Richie had an arm slung over Syd’s shoulder and pointed to the stage with his beer. The combination of humor and terror on her face as she tried to decline his offer of a song was currently making his night. He watched her pinch Richie's stomach and move out of his grip, laughing at him as she hopped into the seat next to Neil to get away.

"Whatcha singin', CDC Sydney?" Fak asked.

"I'm not Fak, but Rich is desperate for a partner on Cruel Summer if you think you can handle it?"

"I can do that!" He exclaimed, "Syd, I can nail that bridge, I fuckin' hand to God… I'm gonna do it!" She moved to let him out and raised her beer to Richie in support of his new karaoke partner. He was about to take advantage of Syd sitting next to him when Ebra pulled him into a far-fetched story he'd probably heard a million times before. He stuck around long enough to listen to Tina and Marcus and Richie and Fak before leaving enough cash for another round and saying his goodbyes. He sat in the car for 10 minutes, phone in his hand, weighing up the pros and cons of texting Syd. He decided against it and put the car into gear, before a tap at the passenger side window stopped him.

"You ok? I thought you left ages ago?" Syd asked with concern.

"Uhh yeah, I was uhh… y’know what, jump in." She did and immediately put her hands to the air vents already pushing warm air through the car.

"So, you were what?"

"Trying to decide whether to send you a message and see if you want to cook tomorrow."

"I'd love to," she nodded, "at the restaurant?"

"Or my place? You could always…"

"Take the couch?"

"Yeah. Or I could." She glanced down at her phone, seemingly weighing up her own pros and cons.

"OK, let's go." He made his way through the dark streets, finding a space a few meters from the main door of his building. He led the way up and unlocked the door, letting her in first so he could lock up behind her.

"You sure you wanna stay?"

"I'm sure. Yo, it looks great in here, Carm?"

"Thanks. I thought I should start making it feel a bit more like home, y'know? Cleared up, no more denim in the oven,"

"For real?" She asked, opening the door to check, "Fuck me, Carmy that's… that's good." He felt the blush bloom in his cheeks. Since he'd decided to deep clean the place over a month ago, the night before he ended things with Claire, he'd slowly been emptying boxes, hanging pictures and sorting through his cookbooks. "Dude, is that a fucking plant?" She asked, looking to the kitchen window.

"It's been alive for a whole month." Not just alive, it had been half dead when he'd brought it, so he'd actually brought it back from the brink.

"A better man, huh?'

"Trying." He offered with a shy shrug. "Beer?"

"Please. Netflix?" She asked, loading up the cooking shows,

"Yeah, there's one I haven't seen yet, Nadiya?"

"Oh, she's so great! You'll love it." She put the first episode on and clinked bottles with him as he sat next to her. "I need to watch Salt Fat Acid Heat." She muttered, he watched her add the note to her phone before crossing her legs and focusing on the screen. It didn't take long before he was reaching out for his sketchpad and looking around for a pen. She pulled one from the knot of her bun and handed it over without looking.

"Rhubarb glaze." He stated. She moved to kneel next to him so she could look at his drawing. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder to keep herself from falling forwards.

"In the spring? Change up the duck dish and serve it with something super fresh?"

"Like a slaw." He suggested, she nodded slowly,

"Like a slaw." She didn't look away from the sketch, "Fuck. You really are so fucking good at this Carm." She said, barely above a whisper.

"You make me better at it." He countered. She absentmindedly rubbed the cotton of his t-shirt between her thumb and index finger. He hesitated before reaching out to cup her cheek and turn her face towards his. She leaned into his palm. He watched her eyes close, a trembling breath on her lips as he leaned in to kiss her briefly. Her hand on his shoulder gave her some leverage to turn and straddle his lap. She stayed further back though, not bringing their bodies flush. She sat back on his knees,

"I don't want to do this if -"

"You're not ready?" He finished.

"Me? I meant you. You've been doing so much better this last month. I don't want to fuck that up for you?"

"You couldn't."

"So you… we could…?"

"We could just take things easy and see what happens? Have some,"

"Fun? We could both stand to have some fun."

"Exactly. No pressure." His hands rested lightly on the top of her thighs.

"No pressure." She repeated, sliding deeper into his lap until their chests were pressed together. He waited for her nod of agreement before kissing her again. She hummed with approval, her head tilting to slot against him perfectly. His tongue swept across her lower lip, demanding access which she willingly gave. His hands moved to squeeze her hips, and she let out a needy whimper he knew he’d spend the rest of the night trying to get from her again. He bit her lip lightly as she ground down against him. “Bed this time.” She mumbled against his neck, “please Carmy, now.” He could feel the reluctance radiate off her as she considered letting go of him long enough to stand so they could move. He stood quickly with her in his arms, making her squeal in surprise. They made it the handful of steps to his bedroom where he sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt between her knees. She was bathed in the streetlight from the window, but it wasn’t enough so he clicked on a small faint lamp at the bedside. He tugged the hem of her top up over her head and she lay back to unbutton her jeans and lift her hips to slide them off, he brushed her hands away and pulled the tight denim down her legs. He rose to climb over her on the bed and she moved further back into the center, reaching for his t-shirt. He unclipped her bra and pulled it off before covering her body with his own pressing kisses along her collarbone. He could feel her heart racing against his chest as he chased each breathy moan that fell from her lips. He kissed a hot path down her body, cataloging every noise she made. He took his time, savoring the way she responded to his touch,

“You’re so beautiful,” he marveled, grateful at last to have her where he could actually see her. He paused with his chin on her stomach to look up at her. She’d covered her face with one hand, suddenly bashful. He reached out to link their fingers, gently encouraging her to look at him, “this ok?” He felt her body shudder as her breath hitched, she nodded. “Need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Fuck you,” she huffed out a tiny laugh, “please, I want this. I want you.”

“I need to taste you, Syd, please?” He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and slid them down her thighs. He nudged her knees further apart and looked back up at her, holding eye contact as he swept his tongue into her folds and circled her clit. Her back arched off the bed and he used his free hand to hold her still. It was akin to worship, every touch designed to bring her closer to the edge. He’d spent years learning the art of consistency and this was no different, he filed away every sigh, every grip of the sheets and every moan of his name. She practically wailed his name as she came, and he watched her come down, boneless from her first orgasm. He let her think he was done before he went back for more. By the time she was pulling him back up the bed to her, the need to have his skin against hers was sinful.

“Jesus fuck, Carmy,” she panted, reaching out to kiss him. He was painfully hard and he knew she could feel him against her. She tried to undo his jeans with shaking hands, giving up with a frustrated groan. He took over and pushed the denim off, giving her the opportunity to push him onto his back. “Condom?” She whispered, still breathless. She reached past him to the drawers by his bedside to grab one as he bit the underside of her breast. He took the condom from her and ripped it open, rolled her onto her back once more and pushed into her in long, slow strokes, his whole body weighted against hers. The closeness was both intense and intimate, and when he kissed her it felt so much like a promise it was almost overwhelming. He held her tightly, pressing her into the mattress as he fucked into her deliriously slowly, lewd noises filling the air. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him against her. He felt her walls flutter around him, she sighed his name as she came again,

“F-fuck, Syd,” he rasped, shuddering against her as he came. He moved just far enough off her so that he didn’t crush her as his arms gave out, his chest heaving.

“Oof,” she huffed as his weight pinned her to the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back as far as she could reach before gliding back up again.

“Fuck, that was… wow.” His breath tickled her neck as he spoke,

“Yeah.”

“Should move.”

“Yeah, no, I can’t do that.” He mumbled an apology and moved off her completely, tying off the condom and throwing it to the bathroom. He pulled her to him as he got back into bed, asleep almost instantly.

He woke alone to the light streaming in from the windows, noting that their discarded clothes had been picked up and a damp towel hanging over the bathroom door. He pulled on boxers and a clean t-shirt and went through to find their beer bottles disposed of and the TV off. He vaguely recalled waking briefly in the night to the quiet sounds of a cooking show, but he’d been so warm and relaxed that he didn’t think to move and turn it off. Not that he’d have been able to with Syd buried into his side. He followed the sounds in the kitchen where she had her back to him, looking after whatever she was cooking.

“Hey, mornin’” He said, voice still heavy with sleep. She turned with a shy smile, wearing his t-shirt from the previous night and little else.

“Hi, did I wake you?”

“No, no way. You making breakfast?”

“Thought I’d bring it to you in bed, but -”

“I can go back,” he joked. She turned back to the pan and cracked four eggs into it. He moved to stand behind her, hands on her hips and his head in the crook of her neck. “Shakshuka?”

“Yeah. Imagine my surprise when I opened your fridge to find it fully stocked.” She laughed.

“Told ya, I’m trying.”

“I legit spent twenty minutes trying to decide what to make you.” She turned down the heat on the pan and twisted in his arms. “Did you sleep ok?”

“Yeah, I think I might have figured out the secret.”

“To sleep?” He nodded, kissing along her jawline.

“You.”

“Pfft, shut the fuck up.” He pulled them backwards so he could sit at one of the dining chairs, bringing her down into his lap with her legs either side of his. “Hmm don’t get any ideas, I don’t think this chair will survive.” It creaked under them as if in response as she squirmed in his lap.

“How long on breakfast?” He asked pulling the t-shirt over her head,

“Long enough.” She confirmed, reaching out to turn the stovetop off completely.

“Baby, you look all flushed, you good?” He heard Tina ask Syd as she finished off the canapes.

“Yeah T, just warm.”

“You look beautiful, don’t get anything down your dress!” She warned, Syd had tugged an apron over her dress but had left it untied. As she moved along the counter piping blinis with sour cream, the thigh split opened further. He turned away as Tina looked at him with a curious eye,

“I’m gonna unlock, Chef?” He asked,

“Ok, sure. I think we’re good.” She turned to the servers with a nod and took the apron off, throwing the piping bag into the sink.

“Let’s party!” Tina beamed, leaving Syd to turn off the lights and join her in the restaurant.

Syd’s dad took another canape as the tray passed by them, Carmy shook his head as the server offered the tray to him as well.

“These are incredible.” Her dad beamed,

“Aren’t they? She was working on them until about a minute before we opened the doors.”

“Sounds like Sydney.” He chuckled, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you on Family night. It was a very special night.”

“Yes Sir, it was. I had some things to take care of in the kitchen though, so I didn’t spend any time out here. I'm sorry I missed you, it's good to meet you at last.”

“I guess that’s the trouble when you’re the one in charge, you don’t get to enjoy the spoils.”

“Fortunately I’ve got everything I need back there.” Carmy replied with a smile. They both watched Syd in a beautiful one-shoulder copper coloured dress as she crossed the room to speak to Tina’s family. She studiously avoided eye contact with either of them and instead got swept up with talking to Tina’s elderly mother. She dropped down onto her haunches to bring herself below eye level to the woman, and held her hands. He took in her taut calf muscles in her heels and the curve of her thigh as the dress pulled tightly. He was flooded with the memory of taking it off her earlier in the evening as she was trying to get ready, her hands swatting him away before pulling him back in. The reason they were late and the reason she was still in the kitchen as they opened.

“She’s really something. I wish her mama could have seen her.”

“She is. You must be very proud.”

“I am. I hope you’re good to her?”

“I’m sorry?”

“She tells me she’s staying with friends two, three - sometimes even four nights a week. You and I both know that her closest friends are in this room right now, and I don’t think she’s singing lullabies to your nephew four nights a week.” He chuckled as the blush crept across Carmy’s face. “I may be an old man, but I’m not blind.” He put a hand on Carmy’s arm, “thank you for believing in her.”

Her laugh sounded around the room as she pushed back up to standing and turned to talk to Pete who’d lightly tapped her arm. She nodded at whatever he’d said and made her way back past them towards the kitchen. Her dad managed to catch her hand just before she stepped out of reach,

“Honey, Carmen and I were just talking about everything you’ve both achieved here. It’s tremendous.”

“Thanks Dad, I’ve just got to see Richie about something. Can I come back to you in a few minutes?”

“Take your time sweetheart. I’ll be right here.” He smiled, Marcus coming over to talk. Carmy managed to catch her eye briefly with a small smile. She made her way to Richie who was holding court near the center of the room. Christmas songs filled the air and he was once again forced to admit that Nat had been right - a less formal Christmas party for family and friends had been the right way to go. She took Richie’s arm, but he grabbed her hand instead and spun her around, twirling her under his arm and pulling her into some empty space to dance. She tried to pull away, laughing, but let him spin her a couple of times and dip her before she could escape. With Syd’s dad in deep discussion with Marcus, Carmy went through to the kitchen to check what was left in the walk-in. The heavy door swung partially closed behind him and he heard the tap of Syd’s heels as she came through the swing doors not far behind him. He went to call out to her, but Nat’s voice spoke up.

“You can’t escape out here, Syd!” “I just need a minute, my feet are killing me. C’mon, gimme a break.” He could almost hear rather than see Nat roll her eyes.

“Fine, you can hold Mikey while I go to the bathroom before I feed him." Nat rushed past the walk-in to the staff bathroom.

“What’s the time baby Bear? How long til I can be in Uncle Carm’s bed again, huh?” She muttered, bouncing the increasingly hungry baby. “Are you ready for bed too? Party animal.”

“I thought about a sitter but then I figured, it’s family night?” Nat said, coming back in and taking Mikey. “Oh, he should be here for sure.”

“You ok?” He heard Nat ask, softly. "You've barely stopped all night?" He could hear her settle Mikey and the baby fell silent.

“Yeah. If I tell you something can you promise not to lose your shit?”

“I can try?”

“So Carmy and I have been… hanging out. And it’s good, and I don’t want to push him too fast too soon on anything,”

“Wait, hanging out somewhere other than here?”

“Yeah. Like, his apartment… specifically.” Syd wrung her hand together, presumably waiting for Nat to catch up.

“Ok, so what’s new about that? Oh. Oh! Fuck! You guys are hanging out hanging out?”

“There we go. Yep, that’s what’s been happening.”

“Since when?!”

“About a month ago? Not long. Long enough?”

“So what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one, I guess? I just… What if it all goes horribly wrong? What if this ruins everything? For all of us, I mean. It could ruin both of our careers, could kill this place? Everyone I love is in that room -” she paused, “I don’t want to push him, but I also kind of want to know how he sees all of this… ending up?”

“Syd, relax. I guarantee if you look into that room right now, he’ll be the happiest you’ve ever seen him,” Carmy frowned, hoping they didn’t actually look for him, “that’s because of this place. Because of you, honey.”

“I guess…”

“I know. The good thing about doing this together, is that you’re in this together. Don’t stress, whatever happens happens. I mean, look at you! You’re the CDC of one of the hottest new restaurants, it’s your Christmas party and yet you’re in the kitchen in your dress and heels making sure everything is as it should be. There is nothing at all that you can’t do. You’re nothing short of incredible, you’re a force of nature Syd. If I had to bet on one thing, it’s that you have Carmen’s complete support in everything you do. I fucking love you.” He heard the shuffle of fabric, and from Syd’s muffled response, assumed they were hugging.

“Thank you, I love you too. Maybe you’re right.”

“I keep telling you both this, I’m always right. Now please, let’s go drink some more champagne and have some fun. You’re not wasting that dress in this kitchen. Jesus, I can't believe I didn't realise you're fucking my brother!” He heard the door swing and sighed, leaving the walk-in to go out back for a smoke.

“Cousin, yo, what’s goin’ on - you comin’ back in?” Richie stuck his head out a few minutes later, breaking the silence.

“Yeah man, I just needed to burn one.” He held one out for Richie who came to join him and let the door shut. “It’s goin’ ok, right?”

“Carm, it’s fuckin’ amazing. I am legit so fuckin’ proud of this place and everyone in it. You an’ Syd, man, you guys have made this place.”

“S’good you two get on now.”

“Aww she’s pretty great. Don’t fuckin’ tell her I told you.” He warned,

“I think she knows, dude. If it makes you feel any better, she was tellin’ me this morning that the nights you do expo are her favorite.”

“Fuckin’ knew it!” He laughed, then paused suddenly, “Wait, how’d you see her this morning?” Carmy felt Richie’s eyes scouring his face, widening in shock “No fuckin’ way, cuz!”

“I meant last night. Here. At work.”

“Bull fuckin’ shit. How long?”

“About a month. The night we got that review?”

“I mean, I thought you guys were eye fuckin’ over the pass, like, a little more than normal… but I did not expect that. Fuck, I owe Fak 20 bucks.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Hey man, don’t be mad at me. Are you… I dunno, are you happy?”

“I think I might be, yeah. Feels fuckin’ weird.”

“I bet. And Syd? She good?”

“I think she’s happy, yeah.”

“You in love or what?”

“I think I might be, cuz. I just… how do I know if I'm ready? Like, what if we fuck this place up?”

“No one is every fuckin’ ready, man. Never. And what if you make this place even better?” Carmy let the thought sink in, “Like, separately you’re both freaky fuckin’ geniuses and together it’s, like, even better. I know you’ve been on that ‘self care bein’ better for yourself’ kick cos you feel like you don’t deserve her,” Carmy sighed, “but you complete each other, cuz. There’s no other fuckin’ way to say it.”

“Fuck me, Richie, you should get a fuckin’ talk show.”

“Fuck you. I’m bein’ nice to you for once in your damn life.”

“I know, I’m still in shock.” They nudged each other. “I should tell her, right?”

“Yeah man, you should tell her.”

“Thanks cousin. Hey, don't say anything to her, yeah? That you know? She’s really stressed and I don’t want to make it fuckin’ worse.”

“Nah man, my lips are sealed. Love you dude, we’re gonna build a fuckin’ empire here.” Richie grasped his shoulder and joined their foreheads.

“Heard, Chef. Let it fuckin’ rip.”

“Anything for you, cuz.”

Though Carmy was right behind Richie going back into the party, he wasn’t quick enough. He entered through the swing door just in time to see Richie smile graciously at Syd and her dad before taking her elbow and pulling her to one side. He leaned down to talk in her ear. Carmy saw the way her eyebrows flew up to her hairline and the panic that crossed her face as she tried to pull away from him. She caught his eye briefly as Richie leaned down again and continued to talk, as he did so, she visibly started to relax.

“Your CDC is something fierce Carmy.” Uncle Jimmy said, handing him a beer. Carmy laughed,

“Yeah, she is pretty great.” They watched as Richie was joined by Nat and the baby, with Pete hovering beside them, Syd took the baby and held him to her like a human shield as they laughed together.

“I gave baby Mikey my 1% for a reason, you know?”

“Oh yeah?”

“This place, it’s 100% Berzatto. It has to be, Carmy.”

“Syd’s not a Berzatto, Unc,” Carmy raised his beer to his lips,

"Well yeah, not right now. But she will be. I could tell when you all came creeping for $500k. She matches your ethics, your outlook. She's your equal. I mean, look at her," They watch her with the family, with Richie and the team, with Nat and the baby, even with Pete. “She’s already a Berzatto. You might want to rescue her before they scare the shit outta her though?”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’s fuckin’ fearless. That’s why I love her,” he shrugged. Jimmy beamed, clapping him on the back,

“He’d be so proud of this, Carmen. He really would.”

“Thanks Uncle Jimmy.” He picked up a glass of wine from one of the trays and took it over to Syd who swapped him for the baby. “Can we try and get out of here for a sec?” He asked quietly. She nodded once and he passed Mikey to Pete. He followed her to the kitchen. Their kitchen.

“So Richie knows?” She sighed,

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Nat knows as well,” she admitted, “I told her earlier.”

“Your dad too.” He said with a sheepish grin,

“Oh my god.” She muttered, “how?!”

“I guess we’re shitty at hiding it? I know we said about just taking it easy and no pressure but,” he caught the frown that crossed her face,

“Fuck. I knew it, I knew it. This is why I said we had to stop, and now everyone fucking knows and it’s all gonna -” she stepped away from him

“No, Syd, fuck you’re so fuckin’ impatient. Would you just,” he took her hand, “would you let me finish? Please?” He sighed, dragging a hand through his curls. “I would go to the fuckin’ ends of the earth for you if that’s what you wanted. I don’t care about easy, or too much fuckin’ pressure, I only want you, and I want to be by your side when you take over the world and get three bullshit fucking stars - not just one. I can’t do this without you and I don’t want to, and I know I said that before but it was because I was too much of a fuckin’ coward to tell you that I’ve been in love with you since the day you walked in here.” She stared at him. Didn't say a word, just stared. "Syd?"

"Are you sure?" She asked eventually, still wary. He closed the gap between them again and took her hand.

"Am I… am I sure?" He laughed, "Yeah sweetheart, I'm fuckin' certain. And I will spend every day proving it to you if you'll let me?"

"I think I could live with that." She said softly.

"Yeah?" His hands slipped around her waist, drawing her closer.

"Yeah. The most excellent chef, occasionally a piece of shit," she teased.

"Only occasionally now? I'll take that," he smirked.

"Occasionally a piece of shit, rarely a total dickbag, thankfully," she assured him. "the best former CDC, now Exec Chef I've ever seen?" she leaned into him with a contented sigh as he kissed her. "I love you too."

"Thank you for showing me that none of this is a waste of time." He kissed her again, the stainless steel counter cold through the thin fabric of her dress. She broke the kiss, breathless, and looked over his shoulder and out to the restaurant. Their restaurant.

FIN

~~~~~~

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aikaterini-drag · 5 months

Text

Smiles and Smooches

Summary: You get drunk and demand kisses and hugs from your boyfriend. He is more than happy to please you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader (no mention of y/n)

Warnings: no smut, takes place during tfatws, boyfriend Bucky, emotional security, fluff, kisses.

Kofi ❤️ Wattpad 🧡 AO3 🩷 ASK ME 🩵

The night carried a pleasant breeze, the stars twinkling. You and Bucky sat close together under the dimmed light of a cozy booth at your favorite bar. The hum of laughter and clinking glasses surrounded you. And tonight, you were a little tipsier than usual. You had consumed two of your favorite cocktails— despite your boyfriend’s advice to take it slow. Bucky, unlike you, couldn't get drunk no matter how hard he tried, thanks to his super soldier genes. He had finished the last sips of your drink, attempting to prevent you from feeling sick later on.

Thankfully, you were feeling fine. Only slightly drunk and blissfully happy inside.

With flushed cheeks and a captivating smile, you shifted on your chair and leaned toward him.

"You know, babe," you slurred slightly, "you're like... seriously the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Bucky couldn't help but half-laugh. “I told you, you shouldn’t have ordered that second drink, sweets. You’re drunk.”

“I’m fine.” You hiccuped and hugged his arm. “It’s not my fault you’re superman.”

“Super-soldier,” he corrected with another half laugh.

“Tsk… is the same. You’re my strong, virile man. And I love you!”

He grinned and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "And you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

You beamed at him, your fingers tracing patterns on his bionic hand. "No, I love you more! Seriously, you're, like, super super cute. I mean, like, cuter than, like, a basket of puppies."

He chuckled at your comparison. “What an adorable declaration of love.”

“You’re adorable.” Your breath ghosted over his lips. “My adorable James. My Bucky.”

He smiled and kissed across your forehead. “Well, that’s debatable. I have the most adorable girl in the world right here with me."

Your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink. "Can I have a hug? Please? You give the best hugs."

Who was he to deny you? He eagerly wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You melted into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. You popped a button and he chuckled and gripped your hands gently.

“No funny business, sweets.”

You pouted. “Want to kiss you. Everywhere.”

He kneaded your hair. “We’re in a bar full of people.”

“Then let’s go home,” you said as your mouth trailed a path of warmth along his unshaven jawline.

“I’m not letting you drink ever again. You get turned into a little kiss monster.”

You giggled. “Your kiss monster.”

“Mine. Always.” He hummed, his voice a warm murmur.

“Take me home, sarge.”

“Home it is, my sweet.”

After taking care of the bill, he held you up, his arms wounding around you to steady you. You still felt a little tipsy but you were also so happy and warm, holding him close, inhaling his fresh masculine scent. Holding you protectively against him, he led the way to the apartment you shared.

As they walked, he glanced at her. “Why did you drink so much, sweets? You dislike it.”

You sighed and clutched his arm. “I’m just sad you’re going on another mission. I don’t want you to be hurt. I meant to have one drink but… I lost control a bit, I guess.”

Bucky stopped and cupped your flushed face. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. You know I’ve got this.”

“So what if you’re good at it? Does that mean you have to risk your life without concerns?” Tears welled up in your eyes. “What if something happens to you?”

Exhaling, he drew you into a tight embrace. “I’ll be careful, I promise. You know I’ll always come back to you.”

You nestled into his arms, suppressing a sob. “I just hate seeing you go into danger again.”

“I know, sweetheart. But it’s what I do. And I do it to protect people like you, people I care about,” he said, pressing gentle kisses on your moist cheeks. “Don’t cry. I’ll be counting the minutes until I can come back to you.”

“Promise?” You gazed up at him, searching his ocean eyes for reassurance.

“I promise.”

“My Bucky,” you said, caressing his face. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

He held you tighter, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Love you too, more than words can express, sweets.”

With his arms wrapped around you, you stayed there for a while, holding each other, kissing lazily. His lips brushed against yours repeatedly, his tongue coaxing your mouth apart and slipping inside. He consumed you, with his touches and his warmth, until there was nothing left but his warm gentle touches and the assurance that everything would be alright.

Follow for more content 🩵 Reblogs or any other kind of support are greatly appreciated. Hugs and kisses 🩷

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b0r3dtod3ath · 3 months

Note

would you write a piece about carmy sending the reader home because they’re sick, and he’s like fussing over her 😭

You awoke to the sensation of blocked sinuses and a pounding headache. Shifting in bed, you glanced at your digital alarm clock, revealing the date: two weeks away from the opening. Despite the discomfort, calling in sick was not an option – you didn't feel like you were dying, and the restaurant had just successfully passed a test with the gas supply now restored.

You came in trying to go unnoticed. Like clockwork, you discreetly changed your shoes and prepared your set of knives. Moving silently, you navigated to your designated station, exchanging brief greetings along the way. Thankfully, your tasks for the day involved prepping, allowing you to maintain quiet and out of sight.

After a while, the urge to blow your nose became distracting, dominating your thoughts and disrupting your focus. Deciding to take a moment of break, you set aside everything and made your way to the bathroom. There, you blew your nose and splashed some cold water on your face, relieving the discomfort and waking up yourself a bit. *knock* *knock* "Are you okay in there?" Syd's concerned voice rang out. Your eyes widened as you hold in a cough. "Yeah, I'm fine, just give me a moment," you replied, just before noticing her footsteps gradually fading away. Moments later, another knock echoed. "What? Just give me a minute. I'm fine," you said, your tone carrying a touch of bitterness. Focused on not causing a scene about your sickness, you were aware that right now everyone was needed. A commanding voice broke through, this time belonging to Carmy. "Hey, chef. Open the door." Sighing, you silently did what you were told, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. "I know you're not well. You're going home. Come on, I'll drop you," he declared, his words sounding more like a command than a suggestion. Attempting to not make yourself look weak, you insisted, "No, I'm okay. I'll wear a mask, and I can still help here." Carmy shook his head, closing the distance. Placing a cool hand on your forehead, he said, "No, you're not going to sit here sick and spread germs in my kitchen. Come on, I'll drop you off, and this evening, I'll swing by to make you a nice soup." Faced with the idea of a private chef in your own kitchen, you found it impossible to refuse.

Jan 31, 2024

#writers on tumblr #fan fic writing #x reader #the bear x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you

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rax-writes · 1 year

Text

I went looking for trouble… and boy, I found her.

Xavier Thorpe x Reader

warnings: reader is a member of the Frump family (Morticia’s twin’s daughter) but no physical description is given, SMUT (MINORS DNI), slightly dom!Xavier, blood kink, unprotected sex, public sex / slight exhibitionism (but no one is around), brief choking, oral and fingering (f!receiving), p in v sex, porn with a bit of plot

Being the daughter of a pastel-loving, effervescent flower child such as Ophelia Frump was exhausting. Truth be told, she was a good mother – always doing her best to indulge in your macabre interests, or phoning her twin sister for some assistance in such endeavors – but the disconnect born from your polar opposite demeanors was ever-present.

After an incident in kindergarten that left you banned from all the local schools, you were homeschooled by private tutors. (Oh, how proud your Uncle Gomez and Aunt Morticia were – and oh, how horrified your mother was.) You had always dreamed of attending Nevermore Academy like your aunt and uncle, and being around other “outcasts,” but being that you somehow managed to always return from summers at their house even kookier and creepier than before, your mother feared what a stay at such a place would do to you. However, upon hearing that your dear cousin Wednesday would be attending the school, you had the leverage to work up some fake tears and a compelling argument to your mother about how it would benefit the poor girl to have a familiar face there with her, and off to Nevermore you went.

----------------------------

“Uh, Wednesday…?” Enid began, momentarily ignoring her breakfast to stare over her roommate’s shoulder with furrowed brows. “Do you happen to have a family member coming to visit?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because a goth version of Stevie Nicks with the same creepy, calculating look as you just walked in.”

Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction, and she breathed your name in realization as she turned in her seat to lock eyes with you from across the Quad. Considering the bright, elated smile that crossed your face as Wednesday rushed to greet you, Enid noted then that you must be a bit more in the realm of “normal” than your pigtail-wearing family member. Although, Enid doubted that anyone in Wednesday’s family could truly be considered as such.

Determined to ensure that you got a positive perspective on Nevermore, being that Wednesday would undoubtedly give a grim depiction of the school, Enid insisted on joining the two of you for the introductory tour. Enid delighted in the way you smiled at her jokes, and even told a few jokes and anecdotes of your own, some of which even brought the faintest of smiles to Wednesday’s face. By the time the group returned to the Quad, it was lunchtime, and there were twice as many students as before.

In the midst of Enid’s thorough explanation of all the trouble Wednesday had already gotten herself into in less than a fortnight at Nevermore, the conversation was interrupted.

“Hey, Enid, have you seen – woah.”

The stunned whisper marked the abrupt end of the sentence of the young man who had jogged over to your table as you turned to face him. He just stared at you with wide, sage green eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul. And you stared right back, taking in the deep emerald hue of his irises, how pretty his lips looked, the light brown hair that brushed against his shoulders.

“Whenever you two are done mentally undressing one another, I would suggest introducing yourselves.”

Wednesday’s deadpan interruption of the tense silence caused him to look away, and shake his head as though to clear his mind, which brought a smirk to your face. He found you just as attractive as you found him. How delightful.

“Uh, sorry. I’m Xavier Thorpe,” he stated, reaching out to shake your hand. You did the same, but he then appeared confused. “Frump? I thought you’d be an Addams, judging from how similar you seem to Wednesday.”

“She’s a cousin from my mother’s side. Her mother is my Aunt Ophelia, the white sheep of the family,” Wednesday explained.

“Don’t you mean ‘black sheep’?” Xavier inquired.

“No,” you and Wednesday both replied in unison.

“My mother is exceptionally fond of… color,” you explained, saying the word as though it were something morally reprehensible. “She decorates with the most abrasive array of bright, colorful maximalism you can possibly imagine. Wednesday visited once, and went into anaphylactic shock the moment she walked in the door. She spent three days in the hospital.”

“It was deeply unpleasant,” the grayscale girl added earnestly, then shuddered as one typically does after seeing a repulsive insect.

“Ah,” Xavier said with a chuckle. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. Hopefully you’re more fond of Nevermore than your cousin, and hopefully we’ll be friends.”

A devilish smile spread across your lips. “We’re not going to be friends.”

From anyone else, it would have sounded insulting. But the way you said it sounded more like a promise, and fuck, did it thrill Xavier.

----------------------------

Naturally, you were right.

Which is how you found yourself desecrating the perfectly manicured lawn in the Nevermore gardens, Xavier’s head between your thighs, his soft hair tied back as his hands, mouth, and tongue caused you to see stars despite the cloudy night sky.

Although the arms keeping you propped up was weak, it was worth fighting the ache in your biceps to see him devour you. He did it so ravenously, yet with so much intention; always mindful of which motions brought out the shrillest whines or sharpest gasps, and doing them repeatedly, until you were a panting, whimpering mess.

When Xavier could tell you were getting close, from how ragged your breathing was and the incoherent muttering of “gods, please, please, Xavier, please,” he spared a glance at you to take in the positively wrecked look on your face. The way his emerald eyes bore into yours, just as they had the very first time you met him – you were a goner. You bit your lip so hard you tasted the familiar metallic taste of blood, to avoid waking the entire castle with your cries of pleasure.

The groan that left Xavier at the taste of you sent vibrations through your overstimulated flesh, causing you to jerk violently, and he then took pity on you and leaned back on his heels with a wicked grin. Seeing him leaning back like that, smirking as he unbuckled his belt, was truly a sight you never wanted to forget.

“God, I love that you’re always so pretty and put-together, and everything you do or say is so poised and perfect – but every single time I get my hands on you, I get to see this fucked-out version of you,” Xavier mused, shoving his pants and boxers down past his knees as you stared at his pretty cock with glassy, hungry eyes. He leaned down then, caging you in with his arms, before one hand reached up to grab your jaw – a bit forcefully, just the way he knew you liked it. “All for me. All mine. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tip at your entrance. “All yours, my darling.”

“Good girl,” Xavier replied with a grin, before releasing your jaw to guide himself into you. He eased himself in slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of him, but once he was all the way inside, he drew his hips back, then thrust himself in again, fast and hard. Thankfully, he had the foresight to clamp his free hand over your mouth, muffling the loud, obscene moan that tumbled from your lips.

The psychic set an unrelenting pace, having been too turned on while eating you out to take his time with you. He had become far too addicted to getting you off to be selfish about it, though. So, in stark contrast to the fast pace of his hips slamming into yours, he slowly trailed his hand down from your mouth to your throat, giving it a firm squeeze and earning a moan from you, before continuing the descent until his arm wound itself around your lower back. Xavier used it to prop up your hips just a bit – enough to hit that particular spot deep inside you that had you biting your lip again, the taste of blood momentarily flooding your senses again.

As you wrapped your legs around him and hooked your high heel-clad ankles behind his back – knowing full well how much he adored that – he groaned, low in his throat, and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, not minding that they were covered in crimson. When Xavier broke the kiss, and you saw your blood coating his plump lips, the burning intensity in his eyes, all while his cock hit your sweet spot again and again and again – your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and you came with a soft, breathless cry of his name and your sharp black nails raking down his back.

“Oh, fuck,” Xavier moaned, low and gravely, immediately following suit, and the sensation of his release filling you up was nearly enough to make you come again.

The arm under your back released you to help Xavier prop himself up, and he was a vision. Eyes closed, brows slightly furrowed, lips still tinted red with the blood from the cuts on your lips, and a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead, neck, and chest as he basked in the afterglow, still buried inside of you.

Unable to resist, you simultaneously squeezed his cock with your lower muscles and gingerly raked your nails along his sides. Xavier shuddered from over-sensitivity and pulled out of you with a hiss, unable to handle the feeling. He leveled you with a glare, only to be met with a sinister smile.

“You’re evil.”

“Thank you.”

Xavier chuckled breathlessly, before standing to quickly fix his boxers, pants, and belt. He then grabbed the hoodie he’d worn to your rendezvous, and kneeled in front of you to tidy you up with it. Always the gentleman, you thought with another smile as he balled the hoodie up to hide the mess from anyone you may encounter on the walk back, then extended his hand to you. He hoisted you up off the ground without much effort, and as you both moved to fix your dress, you noticed in unison that your legs were still shaking from your orgasm.

Xavier merely held up his hands in surrender and said nothing as he reached down to grab his t-shirt, but that shit-eating grin was still on his pretty lips – along with the blood.

The two of you locked eyes, and just as Xavier smiled and opened his mouth to make an undoubtedly cocky, smart-ass comment, you held up a finger and warned, “Silence, or I’ll hex you.”

“Oh, but my love, you’ve already bewitched me,” Xavier said dramatically, holding a hand over his heart to further his theatrics.

“Mhmm,” you replied dryly, although you failed to fully hide your smile. “How about you just put your shirt on and walk me back to my room, Shakespeare. I’ve got a potion to brew.”

“I would also advise you to wipe your mouth. You look more like a vampire than a psychic at the moment.”

He appeared confused, but did as you bade him, and the implication of your words dawned on him as he saw the blood on the back of his hand. Evidently, in his lust-fueled haze, he hadn’t even realized he was kissing your bloody lips. Then, a lightbulb visibly went off in his mind.

“Wait, you liked that, didn’t you?” he asked, stunned. He had seemingly pieced together that you finished right after he kissed you and you saw the blood on his lips.

“Indeed.”

As you so often did, you somewhat expected him to shun you – to be appalled or horrified by you, as most typically were, for some reason or another. It was a very common experience for members of your family.

But, as always, he did nothing of the sort. He was entirely unphased. In fact, the corner of his lips turned up slightly, and Xavier merely replied, “Noted. Just promise you won’t dump me for a vamp. Since, you know, they’ve usually got blood on them, and it’s more of a rare occurrence for me.”

“You have my word,” you responded with a warm smile.

Xavier draped his arm over your shoulders, and the two of you began walking back to the academy, leaving the newly-christened gardens behind you.

“Have I told you how much I love those contraceptive potions of yours?” Xavier mused, with a happy sigh only a man who’d just finished inside a woman could produce.

“Every time we have intercourse, yes.”

“Hm…. Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Also yes, but I never tire of hearing that one.”

“Good, because I love you.”

“And I love you, Xavier.”

----------------------------

➼ this fic could be considered a part two

#if you know what the title is referencing i love u #xavier thorpe #wednesday #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #my writing #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe fan fiction #xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe fan fic #xavier thorpe fanfiction #my writing is rusty so bear with me

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kdogreads · 4 months

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Random facts about Richie Jerimovich that I just know are 100% true even though I have absolutely no proof:

✨He randomly LOVES Green Day

✨He wants nothing more than to adopt a couple of pitbulls and put those cute chunky chain collars on them

✨He would threaten the staff with his gun if they get your order wrong at a restaurant (and you have to talk him down, but then he puts on that mean face back on later that night 😏)

✨He cries at every movie. It could be an old classic tearjerker or a new Disney movie with a sweet message about how kids grow up so fast or God forbid an animal dies

✨He’s a simple Midwestern man in his soul so he loves fireworks and big guns and starting giant bonfires in his backyard

✨He’d never admit it, but he was just as excited to go to the Taylor Swift concert as Eva was. He’s a true Swiftie at heart

✨When he proposes to you, he does the absolute most. Like I’m talking gets a billboard made or takes you to a Cubbies game and asks Uncle Jimmy to pull some strings so he can get on the Jumbotron or something obnoxious to show the entire world how much he loves you

✨Absolutely loves going to Lake Michigan in the summers but he insists you have to go up into Wisconsin or over to Indiana because it’s less crowded and the beaches are better

NSFW below minors buzz off pls 🤪

🔥He’s the biggest switch you’ve ever met in your lifeeee. This man will go from “please baby let me touch you” to “tell daddy whose fucking cunt this is” fast enough to give you whiplash

🔥Obsessed with just like your skin?? He wants to touch you and kiss you and lick you and smell you all over all the time

🔥He loooves squishing your thighs together and fucking them right below where you really want him to be until you’re squirming and begging him to fuck you right 🤤

🔥President of the thigh riding fan club. He’ll get you off on his thigh literally everyday if you let him

🔥He discovers that your toys are his friends, not his competition. His fav is probably your simple ole reliable vibrator. He’ll put it on full blast and fuck you with it while he sucks on your clit 🤭🥵

Someone sedate me 🤤

Tagging Richie lovers: @foreveraimingtowardsthesky @hbojoel @mcondance

#kdogreads #richie x reader #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich smut #i love richie #richie the bear #richard jerimovich #Richie jerimovich fan club #the bear #the bear fic

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thatone-brightstar · 6 months

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More than all the stars (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader) (The Bear & The Fox Series)

Chapter 2: Heavy is the head 'n all that

Words: 4.9k

summary: Carmy gets a visit from an old friend/ you offer Richie a fresh new start.

a/n: Hiii, i know i took my sweet time to update this but i did have some fun stuff to write for kinktober (link here! if you haven't read that) and it truly helped to regain my creativity to continue this bad boy so here ya go!

remember reblogs and comments are the way to show appreciation for your favorite creators and lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Minors DNI, p in v unprotected, in the shower, fluff and smut, oral sex (male receiving), cock warming if you squint

Chapter 1.

Carmy’s hand holds a gentle yet firm grip on yours as you scout the various colorful stands selling all sorts of produce along the busy street. Despite the restaurant being closed for a few weeks now, the routine seemed hard to break and you had both woken up early enough to catch the market. Between coffee scented clouds and the murmur of conversation, you stroll alongside Carmen, stopping at every few booths to check out the products and take the vendors information for future deliveries. Though not buying as much as you usually would for The Beef, it felt nice to buy your groceries directly from the source.

“So what did Marge say about Ava’s classes?” He asks in your direction, distracted by the crate of shiny tomatoes occupying the sidewalk.

“Oh, I think her words were ‘anything for your little niece, my sweet’.” You answer back in a terrible imitation of an english accent.

“Your little niece, huh?” He adds with a smirk, taking a sip from the tea filled travel cup in his other hand.

“Alright, chill-” You reply with a similar smile. “It’s for Ava.”

You stop and let go of his hand to pick out a box of cherries and pull cash from your bag to pay. Carmy notices the bag starting to fill up and takes the handles off your shoulder, swinging it over his own and threading his fingers through yours once again. He pulls up your hand to place a warm peck on it, raising a red on your face that almost matched the cherries.

From your point of view, the morning sun casts a brilliant glow over the baseball hat hiding his untamed hair. Little specks of gold dance along his barely untrimmed jaw and another blush sparks over your features as the image of you kissing his stubble pops into your head.

“D’you think it’d be weird if I gave Richie my mom’s number?” You voice your thoughts suddenly.

He turns to you with a puzzled expression. “And the thought came to you because…?”

You shrug and redirect your attention back to the rows of polished apples beside you. “Dunno. I just- I don’t think she’s ever gone out with anyone since well… y’know.”

Carmy nods his head slowly in a way that shows he understands and doesn’t pressure you to over explain. “And you wanna start with Richie?” He jokes instead.

“C’mon he’s not a bad guy. And he’s not bad lookin’ either… he just needs a push.”

A low mumble from his direction makes you turn your head and you almost don’t hear him whisper against the lid of his cup. “If you like stupid Richie so much, why don’t you fuckin’ marry ‘em…”

You laugh at his words, joyful and warm, and shove him softly with your elbow. “I meant, that it’d be nice to see them happy...” Your eyes wander up to him again, only to find his already darting over your face, a sweet smile set in place. “To have something like this. Don’t you think?”

Carmy lets go of your hand to throw his arm over your shoulder and pull you in even closer while another giggle blooms over your chest.

“I think that’s a great idea.” He whispers near your ear. “Your mother’s definitely the push Richie could use.”

Once your bag is too full to keep cramming stuff in and you’ve swept the streets multiple times, you finally make your way out. There’s a tiny old lady in a small booth by the edge selling colorful bouquets that you almost don’t notice. But he does and stops beside it, quickly handing her the money with a shy smile and picking out the one with the most Carnations on it.

“Here.” He says and leans down to peck your cheek.

You flush and whisper a sweet ‘thank you’, cradling the delicate buds between your free hand and your chest. Even in the cold breeze surrounding you, the heat radiating off you is enough to keep you warm all the way home.

**********

He had not known a second of peace after dropping you off at the gallery that morning. Between deep cleaning and crunching numbers with Nat, Carmy’s head felt like it was splitting in two.

“Jesus fuck…” He mumbles, pinching tightly between his brows in hopes that it dissipates the incoming migraine. “I swear we can’t catch a fuckin’ break.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t make my day either-“ She answers back sarcastically. “We’re gonna need someone to come get it tested-“

“Tested for what?” Richie interrupts, hand pointing to the same spot on the wall where the siblings are staring.

“For fucking rabies- mold Richard, what do you think-“

“-You’re makin a storm out of nothin’ Nat-“

“It’s not nothing, it’s mold-”

“Mold is just a trigger word, okay-“

“Shut the fuck up and let me think.” Carmy speaks louder than intended, the sound vibrating in his skull and making him wince.

He takes a deep breath then rises his head up again.

“Yeah- yeah I think we’re gonna need to call someone for that. Check how much it’s gonna be?” He asks his sister, who only rolls her eyes and nods, turning away.

“Cousin c’mon, I can totally fix that shit-“

“Cousin-“

“-I just need some sealant and-“

“Cousin-“

“-good as fuckin’ new-“

“Richie!” He shouts and shuts his eyes at the shutter in his head. “Just… let an expert do it, alright?”

He watches as his cousin opens his mouth to respond, then instead closes it and raises his hands in surrender, muttering a soft ‘alright, fine.’

“Oh, that reminds me, I gotta go pick up Ava and drop her at your girl’s class. Need anythin’ while I’m gone?”

Carmy shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose once again, a habit often repeated and confirmed by the tender ache on his nose bridge. “No, we’re good. Still can’t do much without the fuckin’ permits.” He mutters back.

“ Did Jimmy get back to you on that?”

“Not since you asked this morning…” His voice sounds irritated, but it has more to do with the pulsing in his head.

Richie only nods and despite wanting to, doesn’t keep pushing it. He instead only throws a ‘call me if you need anythin’ and quickly exits through the patched up front door, washing Carmy in yellow afternoon rays before it quickly closes and he's back to the fluorescent blue.

With the silence of the empty restaurant, he allows himself a second to breathe, even falling heavily on one of the few dust covered stools that haven’t been taken down to storage yet. Carmy pulls a cigarette from the fresh package in his back pocket and lights it, taking a deep drag that instantly numbs out the start of a headache. While he takes another deep drag, he pulls out his phone where your text sits under a reminder to ‘call the fucking fridge guy, carmy <3’ from his sister.

There’s another rattle from the door and he rolls his eyes, typical of his cousin to forget something when he was probably too far away to come back, so he doesn’t even bother to turn around. Instead he presses the call button and waits, leg shaking impatiently over the footrest and camouflaging the steps moving closer to him.

“Hey…” He hears once the call sends him to voicemail and the delicate tube in his hand almost breaks at the filter. The familiar voice crashes over his back and drowns him instantly in freezing water. “...I’m looking for a Ms. Carmen Berzatto?”

**********

For the first time in weeks, the gallery finally seemed to fall into its usual serene pace. Winter vacation was over and your classes had begun filling up again- with children retelling the tales of the places they visited while out of the city. Marjorie had informed you that morning that word of mouth had followed its course since the charity event and six more kids would be joining you in a few days, and now you had more easels to put together before the weekend.

The small plastic screw falls off your hand for the second time and you groan up to the ceiling before picking it up. The easels came with too many small pieces to count and the fact that you still had four more to finish in the back, did not help with the overall mood. As you place the screw back into the little hole and press the screwdriver against the head, it pops to the side and goes bouncing off out of your view.

While you crouch down and pull your hair back to try and see if it’s anywhere close, the entrance bell signals a new arrival, and the excited steps that follow have you straightening back up. ‘Is it five o'clock already?’ you think and instinctively run your hands down the paint hardened apron, as if that’ll make it seem more presentable. A relaxed breath calms you down at the familiar sound of Richie’s voice calling you from the front.

“Back here!” You call out and begin to group up all the scattered screws you can find for a day where each piece won’t make you want to cry.

“There’s our Michelangelo!” He belts out as soon as he spots you, extending one long arm to his side, while the other is taken hostage by a small little thing cradling a Bluey backpack.

Once he’s close enough, the extended arm hooks over your shoulders and pulls you to his chest, placing a chaste kiss over your hair. ‘okay-’ is all you can say and push him away lightly once he’s already letting you go.

“Again- thank you for this-” Richie groans slightly while carefully placing Ava on the floor in front of him, his hands on her shoulders swallowing up her small frame. “She promised to be on her bestest behavior, right Ava?” She nods shyly.

It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before. He’s being tender and kind, and has spoken more than five words without wedging a single ‘fuck’ into the sentence. You can say you’re impressed, though the feeling soon turns sour- like the many times you’ve been a spectator to a loving father/ daughter duo. Richie’s rubbing his thumb softly over her cherry cheeks and even though it’s a simple action that shouldn’t arise anything, the uncomfortable knot in your throat still takes its place.

From his kneeled position, he can see the various pieces of chunky plastic laying astray and he signals with his head in its direction.

“New exhibition or somethin’?”

You clear your throat quickly and wipe the beginning of your sweaty palms on the back of your shirt, embarrassed that you may have been caught staring.

“Uh, no actually. Just some fuc-un-” You correct yourself instantly when your eyes flicker to the small child. “-some fun easels I have to assemble for the new kids.”

“Let me help you-” He’s quick on his feet, already picking up the screwdriver before you get a chance to decline.

“No, leave it- it’s fine. I’ll try again tomorrow… plus, don’t you have to head back to The Beef?”

He only shrugs and takes off his jacket, then begins to count the number of holes on the plastic and pulls out the same number of screws.

“Can’t do much without permits. And you look like you could use the help.”

You crack your locked knuckles as you watch him work, still considering rejecting the offer. But he joins together more pieces in those ten minutes than you have in half an hour, and who are you to reject a man searching for purpose? Instead, you take Ava’s bag from her and lead her to one of the newer stations before the rest of the kids arrive.

“Thank you.” You offer with a small smile in his direction, right before the bell rings again and more hurried footsteps echo in your direction.

“If you’re still feeling charitable, there’s four more in the back-” You add in a hurry and shrug apologetically at the stunned look over his face. “You offered to help…”

Richie ended up staying through the whole lesson. Wandering every few minutes behind his daughter’s station, arms folded with the screwdriver still in hand and contemplating the canvas like the world’s most respected critic. It took him the whole hour and a half to finish assembling all the easels and only had plastic wrap to pick up by the time the last kid left.

Ava sat happy in your rolling chair, sugar-free cookie crumbs sprinkled around her face and paint stained fingers.

“Isn’t that shit toxic?” Richie asks through a concerned face as he bent down to pick up the last of the trash.

You also turn in her direction and shrug, cleaning your own hands with a rag. “Not really, we buy non-toxic for finger painting. It was easier than asking them to stop licking it off…” He only nods at your response- but not fully convinced- sends Ava to wash her hands a second time.

“Thanks again for the help.” You call out with a nod in his direction, then bite your lip.

You don’t know what to say or how to bring it up, only left staring at him as your mouth opens and closes, popping the bubble wrap in your hands. “Hey, Richie?”

He turns, brows raised. ‘There’s no turning back now’.

“Have you tried uh… y’know, dating after Ava’s mom?”

“Listen kid, you know I love ya, but Carmy’s family and-” You roll your eyes and throw the trash in his direction, barely missing his head.

“Not like that, dumbass!” You scold with an amused smile. “I just thought- god this is so fuckin’ weird- here.”

Richie’s expression is puzzled, eyes darting between the contents of your outstretched hand and your own flushed face. He reaches towards it and when he finally takes it, your hand retrieves back to your body and crosses over your chest.

“And this is…?”

“It’s my mother’s number… I know you kinda got a thing for her.” You wave your hand in the air when it looks like he’s about to contradict your statement. “C’mon dude, I have eyes, ‘kay? ’m not blind. A bit grossed out, but not blind.” You admit the last part only to yourself.

The silence breaks with the sound of soft steps on the stairs and an enthusiastic rendition of ‘shake it off’. Richie folds the small paper and buries it securely in his jacket pocket, clearing his throat in the process.

“She likes white wine but not the sweet kind, salsa- both food and the dance- and don’t even mention Celia Cruz or she’ll never shut up about her.” You rush through as the little steps move closer to the back.

“Thanks.” He mumbles back, then a slight grin forms over his face. “So does that make me your dad now?” He teases and you groan, rolling your eyes for the third time in less than two hours.

“Don’t make me regret it- and don’t make it weirder, okay?!”

Your phone rings from inside the apron before he has a chance to bicker back and a smile grows on your face at the caller ID.

“Hey Carm, ready for later?” You turn away from Richie, who cleans the crumbs off Ava’s face before swinging her bag over his shoulder and waving goodbye.

There’s a few silent seconds on the other line, then a heavy sigh travels through the phone and perches over your chest. “Uh, yeah about that…”

“Oh no…” You interrupt before he even has the chance to explain.

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry-” He begins and you can hear the shuffling on the other side. You can almost picture him running his hand through his already messy hair and staring up at the ceiling as if he’ll find all of life’s answers there. “I’ll explain at home but right now I gotta stay later.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just reschedule and see if they can show us the place another day.” Your voice sounds reassuring, though all that’s running through your head is the lightweight promise he made a few days back.

“Yes-okay, great.” Carmy answers rushed, not catching the slight disappointment in your tone. “This is turning out way more difficult than I thought.” He mumbles against the mic.

“Well, y'know ‘heavy is the head’ ‘n all that.” Your smile grows nervous as you try lightening the mood but only a distracted half sigh, half laugh follows a second later.

He clears his throat and rushes through his words again. “Listen, don’t make dinner. I’ll buy us somethin’ on the way home, okay?”

“Yeah, sure… see you at home.”

**********

The train ride home bombards your thoughts with a little guilt. You couldn’t help the slight disappointment ringing in your ears from the failed promise. Then you remember how hard he’s been working lately- or since you’ve known him really- and you feel foolish for letting such a small thing get to you.

So once you arrive home, instead of dinner, you round up the few candles you brought with you and place them strategically around the small bathroom. Then you do your best to scrub the paint out from under your fingernails and strip into nothing but the soft fluffy blue robe he gave you on Christmas. Once you see the short ‘omw’ text, you begin to light the candles, praying they won’t burn the place down, and entertain yourself by arranging the Carnations from that morning in a little vase you made at the gallery. ‘I should give it a friend’

The muffled jingle of keys cuts your train of thought short, followed by his footsteps and a heavy sigh once he shuts the door and takes his coat off.

“Babe?”

“In the kitchen!” You call back and bite your lip in anticipation, quickly rearranging the robe so your collarbone is a little more exposed.

“What? No- I brought dinner…” His tone dies down once he spots you around the corner, take out bag weighing down from his outstretched arm.

“‘M not making dinner.” You answer with a soft smile and keep your attention on the flowers sitting beside you on the counter.

His gaze shamelessly runs along your bare legs, crossed in a way that exposes all the way up to your upper thigh but no more than that. You take your time to finish trimming the rest of the stems, then push the vase to the side and swing your legs to hop off the counter. The movement seems absolutely graceful to him and he can’t do anything but lean against the wall to regain his balance as you move closer to him.

You hold on to the sides of his torso and stand up on your toes to kiss his lips sweetly. You wanted it to be a quick teasing kiss, but his hand wraps around your back immediately and presses your chests together. He sighs against your mouth, the ‘thump’ of the bag hitting the floor vibrates in the room and soon both his arms circle you close.

Your hands cling to his broad shoulders and your toes drag along the floor as he lifts you lightly and moves deeper into the room. The simple movement makes your head swoon with love.

“...missed you.” He mumbles between kisses down your cheek and buries his face in the crook of your neck, sighing again.

“Hard day?”

He only nods, too occupied with the kisses he leaves on your exposed skin. You place another on his hair and peel yourself away slowly, hands still tight over his.

“C’mon.” You whisper and nod deeper into the apartment.

His brow creases with questions he doesn’t ask, instead following behind you silently into the room. The usual white tiles glow yellow with the tiny dancing flames, Carmy’s eyes instantly catch on to the flickering shadows and take his breath away. When you turn to him, his eyes are wide and soft, with the small specks of the candle wicks glistening inside them. Your hand lets go of his to run a tender finger over a smudge on his cheek, while the other begins to undo the knot on your robe.

He’s motionless. The only sign of movements come from the slight bob of his Adam’s apple and the way his eyes constantly drag down to your chest before he pulls them back up.

“I wanna help you relax…” Your voice is sweet, barely above a whisper and drowned out by the sound of the soft fabric cascading down your body and pooling around your feet. “Can I?”

All he can do is nod, transfixed by the way your tan skin glows almost golden in the flickering lights. He lets you pull the white shirt over his head, then while he finishes undressing, you turn the water on and watch as the steam starts invading the empty space. Carmy’s hands caress the sides of your hips and little kisses spark the goosebumps on your shoulder, but once you’re both fully inside, you wiggle away from his touch and turn to face him again.

“I’m taking care of you.” You repeat, and grab his biceps to push him deeper into the streaming water.

You let it fall over his head until the locks grow a shade darker and most of them lose their bounce, then you turn the water down and reach for your scented shampoo.

“Turn ‘around for me?.” You request while you lather the soap on your hands.

Carmy rolls his eyes and gives you a toothy grin, but obliges anyway. You can see his shoulders instantly relax as your fingers tread through the curls, nails raking gently over his scalp in a rhythmic motion that has his neck losing a hold of his head and tipping it towards the cold tile. A smug smile covers your face, wet strands of hair decorating your cheeks, and you even make an effort to continue the gentle movements even after the bubbles have disappeared.

Instead of washing it away, you bring the massage down to his neck, thumbs pressing insistently over the numerous knots you find on your way down. He’s no different than the clay you’ve been experimenting with at work, you offer him as much tenderness and dedication as you would any other work of art.

The soft sounds of his breathing mix with the thin stream of water rushing over your bodies. You didn’t even notice how close you’ve moved to him until your breath bounces back to your cheeks. You take the chance to place little wet kisses along his spine as your fingers dig into the muscles of his back and the shudder he breathes out makes the taste of shampoo on your lips completely worth it. You press them to his warm skin again and again as your hands work down his spine and to the pretty dimples decorating the bottom of it.

By the time your movements have ceased, both of your breathing is struggling with need.

You use the last bit of control in your voice to call his name. “Carmy…” It’s almost silent, but the plea in your tone is enough to make him turn to you.

The sight of his blown out pupils and the way his hair darkens his face is enough to make you come on the spot. Without hesitation, you gently drape your arms over his puffing chest, raking your nails over it as you pepper kisses in a messy line down. Your knees fall over the tile with a soft slap that resonates in the quiet room.

“Fuck-” Carmen blows out, eyes fixated on how fucking good you look on your knees for him.

Your need is too strong to tease him, instead you take his already hard cock in your hand and start giving it a few soft pumps without losing his stare.

“Will you let me take care of you?” You ask again in a sultry voice. The water droplets have accumulated over your lashes and your wet hair cascades over your shoulders, making you look ethereal in Carmy’s eyes and all he can do is nod and sigh when you kiss the tip.

His hand flies up to grip the slick tiles when you finally wrap your lips around his girth and take him fully into your mouth. The rhythm is slow and torturous as you pull moan after groan from the depths of his chest, until he grows too impatient and his hips begin to buck forward into your mouth.

“That’s it baby, that’s it… oh fuck.” Carmy whispers words of encouragement that travel straight to your aching pussy. He groans into the side of his extended arm, but only for a short second, because he can’t dare to take his eyes off you any longer than that.

Each sound he makes pushes your movements faster and each slurp and drag of your tongue makes him groan even deeper, it’s a vicious cycle of obscene sounds that neither of you want to break. Through hooded eyes, he spots your other hand dragging into the inside of your parted thighs and he thinks he might come just from that alone.

With a few more bobs of your head, you pull him out with a soft ‘pop’ and he takes the chance to catch his breath, before leaning down, hooking his hands under your arms and pulling you up to him in one swift motion.

In a second, your feet are up and off the floor and the cold contrast of the tiles on your hot back brings chills over your excited skin. He latches onto your lips in seconds, one hand cradling your cheek while the other wraps tightly around your waist. Your legs circle his hips with strength as he rubs his stiff erection between your thighs.

“You like sucking my cock, huh?” He whispers in a shaky breath while his hips grind incessantly over your slick cunt. “Look how fuckin’ wet you got. You gonna let me take care of you now, baby?”

He pulls his hand from your face and readjusts his arms around your thighs so he has a better grip on you, but doesn’t slip in yet. Instead he drags the length along your folds and watches you whine and squirm with want between his arms.

“Yes, Bear, take care of me please. I need you.” His cock jolts at your words and the neediness behind them is enough teasing for him.

He slips right in, like coming home, and wastes no time in pulling back out to set a rapid pattern that has your breasts bouncing in his face. Carmy buries his mouth by your neck, dragging his teeth down to your chest and back up, leaving crescent shaped bruises that you’ll probably have to cover with makeup tomorrow. Right now though, he doesn’t care, he’s proud of them and how they represent that you’re truly and wholeheartedly his.

“You’re fuck-ing me so good.” A string of mewls falls from your lips at the mixture of sensations and your nails dig firmly into his shoulders to help ground you back.

But Carmy’s hips snap up continuously to a spot he’s learnt you like, making your head fall heavy over his shoulders. You’re gasping for air with each stroke and drag of his cock, unable to regain strength in your neck to look up at his eyes.

“Yeah?” He whispers near your ear, erupting shivers along the skin his breath caresses as he continues railing into you. “And you’re takin’ me like such a good girl.” His movements are too fast for you to keep up with your hips, so all you do is take it, and happily so.

“C’mon baby, come f’me yeah?”

You’re too high to listen to his words, but your body reacts on command as the tension in your navel snaps and a guttural moan rips your throat open. Carmy follows close behind you, groaning into the side of your neck and pressing you impossible closer to his heaving chest.

As the bliss dissipates into tiny waves, you reach up to his clean locks. He answers back with another soft kiss.

“Can we stay like this?” He asks timidly into your skin.

You smile at the sudden softness and reach down to fully turn the water off. “Don’t you wanna finish showering first? or… pull out?”

Carmy answers with a soft ‘no.’. You expect him to let you down so you can both dry yourselves at least, but he doesn’t. Instead, he presses you securely to his chest again and makes his way out of the shower.

You squeal and press your thighs hard around his own when he leans down to blow out the candles, one by one, in fear that he may drop you. A relaxed laugh vibrates in his chest and joins your nervous giggle as he manages the task flawlessly.

“See, I got you.” He says with a proud smile- one that crinkles the sides of his eyes and makes him look boyish and carefree- as he carries you to the warm bed.

‘I know you do' You think to yourself all night, wrapped in the safety of his arms.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78 and that's it lmao

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aestheticaltcow · 4 months

Text

Elementary School

Carmy x Fem!Reader fluff A/N: the teacher x carmy vibe is my hyper fixation; it's a fun troupe.

“1-2-3, eyes on me!” “1-2, eyes on you!” you smiled as you heard the 15 little voices respond to your attention-grabbing technique. “Okay, my friends, we need to pick up all of our toys before we go home. After clean up, we’re gonna pick up our backpacks and paintings from art class, then go outside to wait for our adults!” you announced.

“So you’re pickin' your girlfriend up from kindergarten?” Carmy rolled his eyes at Richie’s laughter. “You want Eva to get inta her school? Be fuckin’ nice.” Richie laughed again, shaking his head as the two left the restaurant. “It’s just funny, Cousin. She talks to fuckin’ four-year-olds all day. She talk to ya’ bout your big feelings?” Carmy glared at him as he unclipped his keys from his pants. “Shut the fuck up, Richie.”

You stared at the whiteboard before you, trying to think of a positive affirmation for the kids to say the following morning when your door swung open. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Richie announced. “Hi, Richie, how you doin’?” you smiled, thankful for the distraction; Carmy was hot on his tail and shot you a smile. “Hey baby, he insisted on comin’.” you laughed and shrugged, “I assume you want to harass Teacher Jackie about gettin' Eva into school here.” Richie shrugged, “Carmy said this is like the best school in Chicago….” you shook your head. “She’s down the hall in room 3. She also just broke up with her boyfriend, so if you flirt a little… might get an interview for next semester's admin.” Richie was intrigued and quickly walked down the hallway, leaving you and Carmy alone.

“Sorry ‘bout him… how was your day baby?” you shrugged, “No one had any accidents, so that was a good thing.” Carmy nodded and stepped closer to you, resting his hands on your hips, “That’s good.” “I also had the best lunch ever…” Carmy chuckled “Oh really?” you nodded, biting your lip playfully. “Yeah, this guy I know slept over last night- he woke up early, made me breakfast, and packed me lunch… need to thank him tonight…” Carmy shook his head before kissing you softly as you moved your hand to Carmy’s neck, “Dam Cousin, can’t be makin’ out in here.” Richie snarked, resulting in you pulling away from Carmy prematurely. Carmy sighed “Later.” you nodded in confirmation that this wasn’t the end.

#the bear #the bear fan fiction #the bear fan fic #the bear imagine #the bear one shot #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x femreader #richie jerimovich

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astermath · 11 months

Text

sweet like you🍓

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then.

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top.

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.”

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes.

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know.

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground.

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing.

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm.

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?”

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.”

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least.

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!”

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool.

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.”

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work.

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating.

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))

#aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto #carmenmath #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto fan fiction #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

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thebirdandthebee · 1 year

Note

OK, cause I'm thirsty today. Jealous Carmy! who has to cater an uncomfortably fancy event and F girlfriend is there wearing a hot dress and he has to keep watching all the rich dudes trying to hit on her until he can't take it and they end up sneaking outside and fucking (bonus points for Carmy eating her out). Thank you Chef!

College was a fun time for Carmen. No, he wasn't in college, but he was in culinary school and catering on the weekends to pay for said culinary school.

It was just fortunate timing that he'd be catering a party his girlfriend would be attending that night with some of her friends - their families all having donated big money to the university to earn an invite. It was a posh affair that she’d spent hours getting ready for. He’d personally zippered her up into a red silk number with a slit nearly to her hip.

He, however, was decked out in the caterer’s special - all white with a black bowie as he flitted about room holding trays of wasabi crab cakes and tartare tacos.

He was grateful for her girlfriends who were always kind to him when he’d sneak in and out of their college house. Tonight, however, he wished more of them were around, and less of the business-school, trust-fund babies that were flocking to her from all angles. He knew his girlfriend was stunning, that was a given. But he certainly didn’t appreciate everyone else knowing that as well.

He didn’t like how closely the suits were getting, and though he could swoop in once in a while, he was close to tossing his tray when he watched a tall, brunette with a dimpled chin touch her elbow gently as they both stood at the bar.

“I’ve got lobster puffs here,” he said, stepping up to the two.

“No, thanks,” the man replied, looking down on Carmen - both literally and figuratively.

“I love lobster,” his girlfriend grinned, happily taking one and popping it into her mouth. “Delicious,” she moaned - a noise that both men knew was better suited for between the sheets.

“Maybe I will try one...” the other man muttered, taking his own.

Three more times in the next half an hour Carmen could see his girlfriend otherwise occupied by men whose fathers had attorneys on standby. It made his skin prickle in a way that he hated. He slammed down an empty tray on the back counter of the kitchen, catching the attention of the other staff members.

“Try not to get too heated, huh?” He heard the familiar purr, feeling a hand slide down his arm. Turning, he saw her with a small smile on her face - she knew this wasn’t fun for him. “Anywhere... private we can go?” She asked, eyes flicking over to the service door that led to the back alley. He simply slid his hand in hers, shoving open the security bar and sending up a quick thank-you to the big guy above that an alarm didn’t sound.

A moment later, his mouth was on hers, tasting that familiar cherry flavor of the lipgloss she’d swiped on over her red lipstick.

“Hate that you have to work,” she pouted, hands delving in his hair.

“Hate the entitled pricks who think they can just put their hands on you,” he countered, hand sliding up her thigh, hooking her leg over his hip. “You’re mine,” he said, lips pressed against hers tightly.

“Prove it,” she grinned, tilting her head with her wide doe eyes. Carmen flipped her around - an arm across her stomach as he kept her from being pressed against the rough exterior of the building. “I took my panties off in the bathroom,” she said, pulling it from her cleavage, reaching back to shove them into his pocket.

“God I love you,” he laughed, her hands braced against the wall as he nudged her feet apart.

She heard his zipper drop and the anticipation made her face hot.

“Hurry Carmy, what if someone comes out here? The valet is just around the cor-” She paused as he slid into her with one fell swoop. “Fuck,” she whimpered, boosting his ego to high heaven. He grasped her breast over her dress, pressing his face into the mess of wild curls she’d pinned her hair into as he pumped in and out.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he grunted, warm breath huffing in her ear.

“I’m yours,” she gasped as his free hand wandered down to the slit of her dress, easily finding her clit.

“Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he said feeling her squeeze him haphazardly.

“You, Carmy!” She tossed her head back, kissing him desperately.

“None of those fuckers in there can give you what I give you,” he all but growled.

“Only you,” she agreed with a whimper.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warned, causing a ripple of goosebumps to travel down her arms.

“I wanna feel you inside of me,” she begged, sending him over the edge. The feeling of his hot orgasm spilling inside of her pushed her off her own blissful cliff. A few moments later, he was using her panties to clean up what he could.

“Don’t look at anyone else, huh?” He asked, kissing her lips in a short series of sweet pecks. “Keep your eyes closed and hide in the corner till I’m done,” he all but begged, a small smile on his lips.

“I only have eyes for you,” she grinned, kissing him soundly.

“Good.”

#Carmy #carmen smut #carmy smut #carmy berzatto #carmy fluff #carmen x oc #Carmen Berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x ofc #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fan fic #jeremy allen white is HOT

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daydreamgoddess14 · 8 months

Text

Aspirations pt. 3

Sydcarmy Masterlist

Full Masterlist

I couldn't decide whether to make this spicy or not, but the Internet has spoken and we're in for more longing and burning baby!

~~~~~

“Last plate of the afternoon. Can I get hands, please?” Syd called out, marking off the paper in front of her. The main kitchen was already being cleared down between service, the radio playing softly so as not to disturb the guests. Richie came and took the plate,

“I need you to help me with something, I’ll be back.” He tapped the countertop as he went back to the restaurant and returned a few minutes later.

“I’m not recording a Tik Tok with you.” She muttered, concentrating on looking through the daytime orders. Somewhere next to Carmy, Tina laughed,

“Richie honey watching you Tik Tok made my fuckin’ night last week!”

“Well then T, you can help Richie Tik Tok,” Syd grinned, “Unless Carm, you wanna -”

“Not me Chef, I’ve got plans with Claire.”

“Sure? Richie can make you a star, baby.” Syd offered, quickly throwing up some faux jazz hands to disguise the Freudian slip.

“I wanna do more expo.” He said quietly while the rest of the kitchen went back to their own tasks. “I think it’s time. We’ve settled in and we fuckin' killed it on family night.” She looked up from her notes and looked across, Carmy was already watching their interaction, she noted the imperceptible nod. She covered Richie’s hand with her own and squeezed it.

“You got it, Chef. Can we start next week?” He smiled with relief and threw his arms around her,

“Fuckin’ perfect. Thanks Syd.” She squealed as he lifted her higher off the ground than Tina usually did.

“Ok guys, you’ve got Carmy looking after you all tonight, I am done for the day. Let’s get cleaned up and get you a decent break.” They cleared up quickly, checked the stocks for the evening and went through the bookings with Richie over coffees,

“You’re not even here tonight, you don’t need to stay for this.”

“Sure I do. Besides, I’m a lightweight. If I go to your sister’s now I’ll be drunk and asleep by like, 6 pm.”

“Great sleep though,” Richie pointed out, Syd laughed in agreement. “We got this, you go.” She looked between the two of them once more for confirmation.

“If you’re sure? Still good for tomorrow, Carm?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there early,” Richie’s phone rang and he moved away to take the call with a wave goodbye to Syd. “Have a good night.” Carmy told her, walking her to the door.

“Thanks. Enjoy your plans with Claire.” She saw the hesitation in his eyes briefly, “You good?” He held open the door and stepped out with her onto the sidewalk.

“Yeah, no I’m good. Things are just… something’s not right and I don’t know if it’s me or -” He paced in front of her, taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting up. “S’just fuckin’ weird.” Syd frowned, “I’m not sure it’s working the way I think she wants it to fucking work. I feel like I’m giving this place my full attention - giving you my full attention - but it means I’m fucking things up with her.” She reached out to put a hand on his arm and stop his pacing, standing closely to him.

“So talk to her? The only way you’re gonna know is if you ask?” He looked worried,

“Yeah. Yeah I will.”

"So umm… probably should talk about last week?" He looked up sharply, "you kissed me?"

"Yeah… I did. I did do that."

"You did do that," she took a small step back, the scent of sandalwood and citrus too overwhelming and his eyes just too fucking blue. "Why did you do that?"

"Uhh I think a reflex thing? Like, we're all very tactile in there and I dunno… I knew you were worried."

“So you just gave me something else to worry about?" She rolled her eyes. "Look, you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can stay, Nat won’t mind.”

“You should go. Take a night off, have some fun.” He said firmly, "and I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Next time I’ll hug you or call you a jagoff like everyone else."

“Ok. Ok. Well, call me - preferably not a jagoff, just if you need anything. Just call me.” She gently gripped his warm arm with her cold, air-chilled hands.

“Your hands are cold.” He murmured.

“Hmm. Cold hands, warm heart.” She countered with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

“I just worry that he’s dating her because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, not because he actually wants to, y’know? If he wanted out, he had the perfect opportunity but now it's like 4 months later and…” Nat said, topping up the glasses, “and that’s not fair because she’s super nice, and you don’t want to accidentally find out you’re second best, right?”

“But second best to the restaurant is different, it’s literally your livelihood - mine too? Without it, we’d all be fucked so we all need it to work.”

“Yeah, so if he’s not happy with Claire then he needs to do the right thing and let it end.”

“Well that would require having an actual conversation,” Syd pointed out.

“He’s capable of that - he talks to me more now.” She paused, glass halfway to her mouth, “he talks to you constantly.”

“About work stuff.” Nat raised an eyebrow but didn’t push any further. Syd fell silent and looked at her phone. They would have finished service by now, she hadn’t heard from anyone all evening. "He kissed me." She admitted suddenly, the glass in Nat's hand nearly tipping over.

"I'm sorry, repeat?"

"Last week. He was about to go to the thing with Rich and it was like, 'gotta go, see ya' random kiss, and then he was gone."

"Like on the cheek?" Syd shook her head, she could feel the heat on her cheeks. "And then what?"

"And then we ignored it for a week. I brought it up just before I left today." Nat snorted, “I know, I know, bad timing. He said it was like a reflex thing. Like we’re a super tactile workplace and I think he thought it would make me feel better?”

“We are weirdly tactile. I found Gary and Neil feeding each other last week. Like, swap plates guys - it’s not that difficult! Did it make you feel better?”

“No. Yes. I’m not sure. I think so? It didn’t freak me out as much as I expected.”

“That’s a good thing?”

“Yeah, I mean, he said it won’t happen again. So long as we don’t go full Fak and make things weird…”

“Exactly, one Neil Fak is enough for us. And you don’t think about dating. Or not dating? Hooking up? Not with Carm, obviously.”

“Oh - obviously! I don’t have time for that mess. I don’t like hookups but I don’t have time to get to know someone either. Kinda limits my scope to the restaurant and our suppliers.” She laughed.

“Didn’t Marcus ask you out?”

“Once. He’s a sweetheart, but he’s like my brother.”

“And there’s no one else?” Nat pried.

“Why are you so keen to find out?”

“I just think you should have some fun. Stress relief.” Syd snorted,

“I barely have time for sleep, you think I want to interrupt sleeping hours for sex?!”

“If that’s your biggest concern, I think you might have forgotten how good sex can be.” Nat laughed.

“Well that’s certainly fucking true.” There was a gentle knock at the front door and Pete appeared from the den to answer it. As if his ears had been burning, Carmy stood on the doorstep with arms full of grocery bags, most of which Pete took from him.

“You know it’s not morning yet, right?” Nat asked.

“I just got off work, thought I’d come and… be here instead?”

“For girls night?”

“I can hang out with Pete. Hey Syd, you missed a great service.” Natalie smiled and moved away from prying into why he was there.

“Ok honey. I mean, you’ll have to fight over the bed, and I’m pretty sure Syd already claimed it.” She warned.

“I can take the couch.” They both said at the same time. Syd, three (large) glasses of wine deep, laughed. He followed Pete to the kitchen with the final bag of groceries as Nat turned back to Syd,

“Do you think they had a fight?” She hissed, Syd shrugged, watching the kitchen with a frown. He didn’t come back out. They heard quiet conversation while Pete opened two beers and moved on to Syd describing the plans for the festive menu and the things they intended on having her test out the following day. Once Nat had spent more time yawning into her glass than drinking from it, they decided to call it a night.

“I’ll take the couch.” Carmy told her as she put their glasses in the dishwasher,

“No need, give me like 5 minutes and I’ll be comatose. It’s fine, we’re both adults, right?”

“Sometimes,” he smiled. “If you’re sure?”

“Totally fine. Just don’t wake me up when you come in.”

“Sure, I’m nearly done with Pete anyway.” Carmy had been making the effort Natalie had always wanted him to with his brother-in-law. Syd trailed up the stairs after Nat, the blonde hugged her outside the guest bedroom and slipped quietly into her own room where baby Mikey was sleeping. Syd pulled on sleep shorts and a t-shirt, wrapped her braids in a silk scarf, and took her usual side of the bed - the left. She’d no idea whether she’d taken the side Carmy would have preferred. You snooze, you lose, she decided. She put her phone on charge and switched off the lamp beside the bed. A soft light from the bathroom mirror provided enough light to see by, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from falling into a light, dreamless sleep almost immediately. She knew she wasn’t fully asleep, she heard Carmy come upstairs and close the door behind him. Heard him kick off his jeans and felt the cool air as he moved the comforter to slide into the bed beside her. “You awake?” He whispered, barely audible. She didn’t respond, she had heard but she wasn’t awake enough to consider answering, and the sound of his deep breaths as he fell asleep had her falling deeper and deeper into much needed sleep.

She could hear the very faint snuffles of baby Mikey in the next room. It wasn’t light enough to be morning but as it was still dark she had no intention of finding her phone to check the time. It could have been anywhere between one and ten hours since she'd fallen asleep. She was far too warm and comfortable to care. She sighed deeply and shifted slightly. The hand on her back moved down a little and the knees either side of hers moved further apart to free her leg and let her roll further over. She was mostly on her stomach but her stomach and the rest of her body from head to toe was pressed up against another body. Her whole right leg tucked between his, her right arm slung low across his stomach and her head fit neatly in the crook of his neck. Carmy. She could feel the sleepiness slipping away as the reality of where she was and how she was laying dawned on her. She hadn’t disturbed him though, his chest rose and fell deeply. She couldn’t look at him without moving, and she couldn’t move without waking him, so she stayed perfectly still. His warmth and the hand tracing gentle patterns on the small of her back lulled her back into a light sleep. Her hand on his stomach dragged a sleepy path up his chest to rest on his heart, and in his sleep, he moved further down the bed to hold her tighter. The next time she stirred, it was still dark. She'd turned in the night onto her right, no longer sprawling half of her body across Carmy. He'd followed her in his sleep, curved his body around hers instead, legs slotted together perfectly and his chest against her back. He'd had a hand on her hip, but it was the movement of fabric as his arm moved over her stomach to pull her closer that had woken her. He shuffled closer and his breath caught just behind her ear, and she felt the smallest of kisses in the dip of her neck. It made her whole body shiver and her back curve, trying, trying to get even closer to him. She can pinpoint the moment he properly wakes up. His breath halts just slightly and he moves - not letting go fully - but she suspects it’s just far enough to assess how much shit he’s in. To work out where his hands are and how quickly he needs to move them. The second he realizes his hand is under her t-shirt and resting on the soft skin of her stomach, he pulls it away like he’s been burned and moves away completely.

“Is it morning?” She asked quietly, turning to face him.

“Uhh, I think early?” He guesses.

“Hmm. Back to sleep then.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll get back to sleep.”

“You should.”

“Believe me, that’s the best I’ve slept in a very long fuckin’ time. I’ll quit while I’m ahead.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true.” He turned on his side to face her, lying almost nose to nose.

“You need to relax more.” She told him.

“You need to take your own advice.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh shit, sorry, we’re not actually talking about me right now soooo… take that point up another time.” She reached through the comforter to push him onto his back. “Lay back, close your eyes.” She tucked herself against him as she had been when she’d woken much earlier in the night. She felt his tentative hand on her back, “this ok?” She asked quietly,

“Yeah.”

“Good. Relax, breathe like me.” She took a couple of deep breaths, certain though that her pounding heart was most likely betraying her. She put her hand to cover his heart over his t-shirt and he moved his to intertwine their fingers. “Your heart is racing.” She muttered, "you good?"

"Perfect." His voice was low and drowsy, like he was fighting sleep again already. She kept up the deep breaths until they were both deep asleep again.

She could hear Nat pacing with the baby. She can't have been asleep very long, she was still tangled in Carmy's arms as he slept on. She managed to slip out of his embrace to the bathroom and put on the sweater he'd been wearing the previous evening. She knocked softly on Nat's door and held out her arms for the baby,

"Go back to sleep for a while, I'll take him downstairs." She whispered. Nat looked as if she could kiss her.

"Thank you. That was his 6am feed so I'll be down before he's hungry again." She cupped his chubby cheek as he snuggled into his uncle's sweater, and then did the same to Syd. "Thank you so much." She said again, climbing back into bed alongside Pete who snored gently. Syd crept downstairs with the baby, found the coffee and put some music on. Pete came down first, which was a surprise. She was fairly certain Carmy didn't sleep past 7am ever. Pete took over making coffee while Syd danced with Mikey.

"Hey, have you seen my -" Carmy came through looking around and stopped when he saw Syd, "nevermind."

"Oh sorry man, your sweater. You want it? I can borrow one from Nat?"

"S'ok, keep it. Looks like Mikey likes it too." The baby cooed and gripped it in his tiny hands.

"Coffees all 'round," Pete grinned, "I've never seen Nat so grateful for an extra hour of sleep. I'm just gonna take this up to her - she can actually drink it hot for once!" Carmy pried Mikey from Syd's arms and sat at the table,

"Looks like you can send all Berzatto's to sleep?"

"Y'know, I'm gonna take that as the compliment I'm sure you meant it as, and not the way it sounded." She grumbled, "and I'm also sure you meant to follow it up with 'thanks, Syd. I've literally never slept like that in my whole life'?" She stood next to his chair, leaning against the table.

"Thanks, Syd. I've literally never slept like that in my whole life." He smiled.

"Good morning. Well, isn't this cozy?!" Nat came in with her coffee cup and a wide grin.

~~~~~

#the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear #the bear fanfic #the bear fan fic #sydney x carmy #syd x carmy #carmy x syd #carmy x sydney #carmen x sydney #syd adamu #syd x carmen #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #sydney and carmy #sydney x carmen #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto

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ciaonicole85 · 15 days

Text

Neighbor Series Ch. 3:

If He Wanted To

Back to Sydney's POV shortly after moving in to the same building as Carmy. By this time her walls are slowly coming down because The Bear is running smoothly and the workplace dynamics are far more healthy. Sydney forgiving him after Friends and Family and the crew having his back helped Carmy be kinder to himself. So less rage. More cuteness. Too bad the actual show is going to rip our hearts out before he gets better! Anyways, here's part 3. Sidenote: Ayo can actually sing.

ALL Sydney wanted was a long hot shower after 12 hours at The Bear. The showerhead in her new apartment had perfect pressure. The scalding water was melting the butter and garlic from her pores. Her vanilla currant scented body wash had just been lathered all over, when she spotted an alien presence. She did a quick spin under the water to rinse off hoping against hope that she just had eye floaters from exhaustion. She gingerly stepped onto the bath mat and grabbed her huge pink terrycloth robe. Okay, it was go time. She scanned the ceiling and there it was!

"Don't move" she whispered.

Sydney dashed to her kitchen and came back armed with a copy of the largest paperback she owned, The Joy of Cooking, and a can of insect spray. The enormous (actually quarter-sized) spider was poised in the top right corner of her bathroom.

"I'm not afraid of you. I work with Richie every day," she taunted the beast.

She aimed the spray and shot. The spider spun down and launched itself at her! With a yelp Sydney dropped the heavy book and ran for cover slamming the bathroom door behind her. She ripped off her shower cap furious with both herself and the stupid spray. This stuff was supposed to kill on contact, not antagonize it!

Soon there was a panicked knock on her door.

"Hey, Sydney! Are you okay?" a man's voiced cried. It sounded like Carm.

Sydney groaned. This is what it means to live above your boss. He gets to find out more of her quirks and weaknesses. Hurray.

She went to the door and cracked it open a few inches.

"Hey! Yeah…I was just trying to kill this big spider. I dropped a book. It's all good now. Thanks!"

The corners of Carmy's mouth twitched and he asked "Well, did you get it?"

"No. The bathroom's his now".

"Just let me get it, Syd."

"Fine."

Sydney let him in and noticed his hair had just been washed and his clothes, thin joggers and surprise, a white t-shirt, were clinging a little to his body. He'd obviously been showering too when he'd heard the commotion. Don't stare. Don't stare. DON'T STARE. He smelled like cedar and musk. DON'T SMELL EITHER.

"Nice robe " he said smirking.

"Are you coming in to help or what?"

"Yes, just get me a paper towel."

Sydney padded into the kitchen to get it leaving a delicious scent trail of her body wash, which Carm inhaled deeply the moment her back was turned.

A moment later with a paper towel in hand he entered her bathroom.

"Why are women's bathrooms always so much better?" he thought as he searched for the spider. Soon he found it running erratically around the tub, obviously maimed by if not yet dead from the spray. With one swooped he had it crumpled in the paper towel and tossed in the wastebasket.

Reentering the hallway he informed Sydney that "It is done" with the seriousness of a hired hitman.

"Thank you. And sorry for interrupting your night. I owe you."

"Yes, you do."

Sydney scrunched her nose, "Okay, what? I don't want it hanging over my head."

"I want a song."

"Excuse me?"

"Either now or within 24 hours, I want a song. I've heard you singing up here and you're good."

"Carmy, that's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is you interrupting my shower, for a little spider. So, I'm owed a ridiculous request."

Sydney shook her head giggling, wondering how her life went from melancholy coming-of-age drama for the last couple of years to…this. Her life was now filled with hope, an amazing workplace family, and Carmen Berzatto. With him she was achieving her dreams and if she could only continue keeping her rogue feelings or hormones, or whatever in check everything would be great.

"I'm too tired to argue with you, so fine. A song. Anything in particular?"

Carmen stared at her, thinking for a minute.

"When he owes me, I'm going ask him to wear sunglasses on the inside" Sydney thought trying not squirm.

"Okay, there's this song I've heard you singing all last weekend, but I don't know what it is. The words weren't clear."

"Knocks Me Off My Feet? I was having a Stevie Wonder revival for a few days, but that's a cheesy one. How about anything else?"

"No, thank you. I want Knocks Me off My Feet, chef"

"FINE. For a small spider you only get a verse and a chorus," Sydney grumbled.

Carmy leaned against the opposite wall and waited.

She swallowed, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she started singing in her sweet soprano voice she couldn't help smiling and thinking of her parents. This was their song.

We lay beneath the stars

Under a lover's tree that's seen through the eyes of my mind

I reach out for the part

Of me that lives in you, that only our two hearts can find

But I don't want to bore you with my trouble

But there's somethin' 'bout your love

That makes me weak and

Knocks me off my feet

There's somethin' bout your love

That makes me weak and

Knocks me off my feet

The words cut through to his heart. Somehow when Sydney stopped singing Carmy retained his senses enough to not break every professional boundary. He did not gather her in his arms. He did not kiss her. He did not confess that he missed her on their days off and even sometimes at work when she was out of sight for too long. However, Stevie Wonder couldn't miss the look on his face.

Sydney's eyes met his and in that moment she acknowledged everything she pretended not to see before. And she decided that if this indeed would be something, then he would have to make the first move. Thanks to her father's advice and experiences with Carmen himself, she lived by the motto "If he wanted to, he would".

Breaking his trance, she said "Well, goodnight then."

Carmy blinked a few times and headed towards to door. Then he paused. If he didn't say something now, would he ever? Anyways, whatever truth he thought he was hiding under a partnership or friendship had been reflected back in Sydney's face just as sure as if she could read his mind.

He braced himself.

"May I walk with you to work tomorrow?"

"Yes, but don't we already do that?"

"Sure, but usually I'm just waiting to hear your door open before I leave. Like its a coincidence."

"Oh."

Breathe Sydney.

Okay."

"Goodnight Sydney. And I'll bring breakfast to-go."

After Sydney locked the door behind him, she slumped against the wall and slid to the floor, stunned. Did he just read her mind and decide to make a move? A baby step, but nonetheless a step.

"Great. Now I'm literally sliding down a wall over him, " she chuckled, a little delirious.

Thank God for spiders.

#the bear #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #sydney x carmy #carmen berzatto #carmy x sydney #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #syd adamu #fan fiction #fan fic

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introspectivememories · 4 months

Text

what's wrong with data analyst bernard?

summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")

A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.)

Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.

Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.

"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."

Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."

"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.

Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.

Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!

"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."

Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.

"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.

"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."

"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.

Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."

"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."

His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.

"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.

"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."

"You want me for longer?"

"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."

"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!

Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.

"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.

"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.

Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."

Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—

No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.

He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.

"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.

A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.

Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.

Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.

"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."

Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.

When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head

She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.

Fuck, Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.

He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.

Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.

The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.

Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.

"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"

He blinks slowly, "...What?"

"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"

No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.

"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."

"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.

"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."

Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.

The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?

"What is going on here?" Tim asks.

"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."

Abhishek, no!

"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."

"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."

Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.

A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?

"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."

You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.

"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."

I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.

Bernard says nothing instead.

Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?

"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.

"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.

"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.

Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.

"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."

He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?

Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?

The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.

"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."

Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"

He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.

"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?

He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.

'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.

Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?

He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"

He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.

Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.

"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"

He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?

"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?

The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?

The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.

It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?

Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.

Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.

His body sags.

Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."

A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.

Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—

Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.

BANG!

A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.

He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.

(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)

Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.

Plink, plink, plink.

Bernard hates the scent of iron.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."

There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.

He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.

She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”

“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”

She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.

“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”

“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”

“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”

“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”

He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.

“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”

“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”

All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.

“Bear?” the other side says groggily.

“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.

Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”

“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”

There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”

“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.

“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.

“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.

“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”

“But I’m still dead,” she says.

“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.

Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”

Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.

“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.

Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”

Darls nods; he tells them as such.

“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”

“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”

“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”

Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.

Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.

“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.

“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.

“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?

“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”

“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”

“Ty, not helping.”

“Move over, let me talk to him."

"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."

"I can't, I can't," he gasps out.

"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"

Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."

"Good, good. Anything else?"

"The tiles need to be re-grouted."

Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.

"Keep going."

"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.

They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry.

"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.

"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up.

"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"

"At my new job at Wayne Ent."

"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.

"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"

"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"

"No!” he says vehemently.

“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.

“Ma!”

“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”

What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was.

“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”

Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands.

“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”

Bernard exhales shakily.

“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.

Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.

Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.

“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”

“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.

“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”

Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.

“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.

“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”

“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”

“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”

“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.

“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”

He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.

Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.

The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.

Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.

“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”

Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.

“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”

He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”

His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”

“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”

“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”

Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file.

“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”

Bernard nods.

“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”

“...Yes. Junior year.”

“You know our CEO.”

“Yes,” he breathes out.

“How?”

He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.

“It’s a little private,” he says instead.

“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”

His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”

“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.

“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.

“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.”

Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.

“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”

Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”

“No! But still, why are you helping me?”

Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.

“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”

His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”

Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”

Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Bernard.”

Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.

“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”

A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”

Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.

“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”

His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”

The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”

Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.

The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.

I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.

The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.

Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.

Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.

We’ll make it through, she says.

The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.

A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)

if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?

also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.

thank you for reading!

#god i'm exhausted #writing the latter end of a fic always feels like finishing a marathon #no more fics for like the next 6 months (<- me when i lie)#anyway big fan of the bear hallucinates darla club!#currently there's only one member (me) but you can change that #also favorite trope ever is when you see a regular dude and you're like 'what a nice normal dude' and then you talk to him for like #5 minutes and you're like '/oh./ this dude has something wrong with him'#also the tyrone/jimmy pairing? do you see my vision?#also big fan of the the shooting was worse than what you see in rr club!#it's just there was a city-wide gang war and all the gangs came to grieves to kill darla and you're telling me only she died???#i think way more people died. i think too many people died actually. i think the school had to do remote learning for all of tyrone's sr yr #cause the renovations were too much.#also just to clarify #the is hallucination!darla and there is the darls he sees all the time. no they are not the same to him. yes he is mentally ill.#also yes!! superheroes do exist in this world!!! i just didn't mention them.#also if we're being a little self-critical for a moment #(don't look at this part) i feel like i could've ended this at a way earlier point in the story but i had such a strong vision of what the #fic was supposed to be like that i just wrote everything #anyway lets start tagging #bernard dowd #tim drake #timbern #timber #dc #red robin tyrone #red robin jimmy

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