#carmen berzatto imagine
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nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|
prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.
based off this prompt from the other day :)
contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.
“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.”
“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line.
“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket.
“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock.
“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval.
“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one.
The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name?
You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week.
Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself.
“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows.
“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.”
Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window.
There you were.
Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high.
“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-”
“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it.
“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned.
“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.”
“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone.
Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it.
From: Richie
‘Look at table nine.’
Sugar huffed.
To: Richie
‘Why? Is there something wrong?’
She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen?
To: Richie
‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’
From: Richie
‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’
Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end.
Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,”
“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.”
“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.”
“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced.
“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.
“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.”
“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-”
“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.”
Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin.
“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge.
“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his.
“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee.
“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.
“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection.
“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.”
Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight.
Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out.
“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue.
“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing.
“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face.
“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded.
“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.”
Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head.
“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.”
Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-”
“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.”
Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”
“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.”
“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-”
“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered.
Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window.
“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.”
Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger.
This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time.
“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.”
Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?”
“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.”
Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl.
“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called.
Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered.
“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.”
“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?”
“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.”
“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?”
Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.
#thebearer#bearblahs#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmen berzatto blurb#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy x you#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x you#richie jerimovich#marcus brooks#sydney amadu#tina the bear#neil fak#sugar berzatto#carmy fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#the bear fic#carmy the bear#the bear fanfiction#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#thebearerblurbs
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so long, chicago
Without the warmth of your things in the apartment, it looked sad and cold. The boxes that you packed were stacked along the hallway. Movers were scheduled to help you in the next hour.
Your belongings would be traveling across the country with you following.
After one last sweep of the apartment to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything, you stood at the large bay window facing the city. A city that you once considered home.
You’d miss Chicago. You’d miss the people that you’d met. The connections that you formed. The memories. The laughter.
The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw Carmen walk in. You didn’t expect for him to be home anytime soon. You’d hoped that you could avoid the last interaction.
“Hey.” You said softly.
He nodded, “I thought you’d be halfway outta town by now.”
“The movers should be here any minute.”
Carmen took off his coat and placed it on the right hook near the door. Yours would normally go on the left but it was currently sitting on top of one of your suitcases.
“Richie said you stopped by the restaurant last night.”
“Yeah, I wanted to tell him goodbye.”
“I guess that’s nice.”
“You guess?”
“What do you expect for me to say, (Y/n)? I love that you’re abandoning me and everyone you’ve met here?”
“Abandoning you?” You couldn’t believe that he really said that.
“We’ve been together for six fuckin’ years! One day you wake up and realize you don’t want to be with me anymore out of the fuckin’ blue!”
“Out of the blue?,” you raised your voice, “Carmen, I dreaded making that decision for months! You were so out of touch that you didn’t even realize that we had stopped acting like a couple long before I ending things.”
Carmen chuckled bitterly, “That’s not true.”
You hadn’t planned on leaving on ugly terms with Carmen. If anything, you wanted it to be civil. You were huge parts of each other’s lives. Under all of the pain and heartbreak, there was love.
“I was the only person trying in this relationship. You would get home at one or two in the morning and I’d try waiting around just so we can have a conversation after not seeing each other all day. I planned date nights and tried to pry you out of that kitchen to notice that I was practically falling apart at the seams!” You confessed. It hurt you that he hadn’t even noticed.
“Relationships are hard! That why you have to make them work!” Carmen was visibly upset at how the conversation was going.
“I was the only one fighting for this, Carmen! When was the last time you bought me flowers or texted me to see how my day was going? I barely even heard an ‘I love you’.”
“I do love you. So much that I don’t want you to go and move to San Diego. You belong here with me and- and with your friends. People that care about you!”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough. I’m tired, Carmen. Tired of feeling like I don’t mean shit to you. I need to be with someone that wants to be with me. I want someone that won’t make me feel alone when we are together.”
Carmen closed the space between you two. It was the closest he’d been to you in days. He still smelled of the cologne that you bought him for Christmas with a faintness of the cigarette he must’ve smoked before.
“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together.” He said softly.
“If you thought so, then why aren’t we married? I’ve had friends in shorter relationships that have taken the next step. I’ve waited for so long for you to ask me to be your wife and every anniversary that passes, I know that it’s not going to happen. I don’t want to leave. I really loved living here. This felt like home more than any place I’ve lived in, but I can’t stay here.”
“I’ve been a fuckin’ selfish asshole. I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please, I’ll make things up to you. I’ll change.”
“And when things get hard? When you get busy and stressed at the restaurant, then what? It goes back to how things were? I can’t put myself through that. I can’t take that chance.” It killed you seeing him so upset but when you broke up with him, it was like you could breathe again.
You were becoming the person that you used to be. You didn’t want to sacrifice yourself for someone else that didn’t give you the time of day.
Three knocks to the front door made you step away from Carmen. You opened the door and saw the movers with a dollie and a couple of extra boxes.
“Excuse me.” You felt Carmen grab his coat and brush past you. Part of you wanted to chase him down and wrap your arms around him. You didn’t want the last image you had of him to be so hurt.
As you watched the movers grab your boxes and take them down to the awaiting truck, you grabbed the letter that you wrote for Carmen. You planned to leave it on the kitchen counter.
You didn’t know if he’d even read it. Maybe he would rip it up into tiny pieces. Maybe he would read it over and over again.
It wasn’t up for you to wonder. You were at peace with your decision and that’s all that mattered.
#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you#the bear x reader#carmy x reader#the bear imagine#carmy berzatto
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hi! i'd like to ask for a whiskey with carmen berzatto with prompt m. Keeping the relationship a secret
thank you <3
Lovesick.
warnings - not quite smut, but a little smooching. cursing.
ah sweet carmen. thank you for this request <3
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
"Behind!"
Carmy's fingertips graze across your back as he walks past you, featherlight and barely there.
It sets your nerves on fire.
You carry on slicing the tomatoes, mentally willing yourself to calm down. You seem to turn into a teenager when Carmy's around, all giggly and jumpy.
"Time for you to take a break," a warm voice mutters in your ear.
"I've got like an hour before I need a break, Carm."
"I said, time for you to take a break."
He presses a gentle kiss to your ear, chuckling when he sees you shiver. To anyone else, it looks like he's just giving you direction.
"I'll meet you in the office in five," you whisper. He's satisfied with your answer, slinking off to wait for you.
You barely make it to two minutes before you're walking across the kitchen, gliding through the door and closing it behind you.
Two rough hands find your hips, pushing you up against the wall. Carmy smashes his lips to yours, using your startled gasp as opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling recklessly. Your leg hitches up around his thigh, desperate to get closer to him.
"You're all I can think about," Carmy whispers against your mouth. "Can't focus on a fuckin' thing when you're in the room."
You whine, tugging him back to kiss you again. You know this is risky. But you just can't help yourself.
"Come over tonight," you murmur. "Want you to fuck me to sleep."
He throws his head back and groans, gorgeous neck exposed and waiting to be bitten. You lean in and lick the expanse of it, tasting the salt on his skin.
Carmy brings a warm hand up to rest against your throat, smirking when you whine. He presses kisses to the spot under your ear, your neck, your collarbones. Just as he's trying to unbutton your shirt, the door swings open, scaring the life out of you both.
You shriek as Carmy jumps, light filling the tiny room.
"Well well well," Richie drawls, grin etched across his face. "What do we have here?"
"Is Carmy there? I need to ask him about-"
Sydney stops dead in her tracks, the corners of her lips curling.
"Does anyone else wanna come and fuckin' look?" Carmy groans, snapping at the two people stood in the doorway.
You hide your face in his chest, willing them to leave you alone. Or for the ground to swallow you up. Either works.
"Alright, alright. Let's leave these lovesick kids alone."
You never thought you'd see the day that Richie was your saving grace.
The minute the door swings closed, you can't help but break out into a fit of giggles. Carmy joins you, both of you crying tears of laughter.
Lovesick. He's probably right.
#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto#the bear imagine#the bear x reader#carmy the bear#the bear fanfiction#jeremy allen white#murphy's 3k celebration
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Girl dinner - Carmen Berzatto
Content Warnings: THIS IS MY MEAL. I CALL IT GIRL DINNER ✨️GIRLLLL DINNNER✨️
Inspired by this post I saw by @thebearer (i hope you don't mind me adding to the concept)
"What the fuck is girl dinner?" Carmy sounds more than frustrated, and confused as he stares down at you, sat comfortably on the couch with your choice of meal. It's an apalling assortment of things from his point of view, though your wide smile shows you think the opposite.
"This is girl dinner." You wave down at your food before stabbing a fork into the meal, eyes drifting to the tv.
"No, no, no, I can't let you eat that." Carmy seems a little distraught as you make eye contact with him, putting more of the dish you prepared into your mouth, chewing slowly as though to make the point 'but I'm eating it anyway.'
"Fuck, please stop with the girl dinner." You love how he's adopted the phrase himself, reaching down to pull the plate away from you, though you dodge him well.
"You eat peanut butter and Jelly for dinner almost five nights a week, so don't you dare scold me for this!" You're defensive as you stand with your plate, still spooning the disaster into your mouth. It doesn't taste as good as anything Carmy would make for you, but you're stubborn.
"At least that has substance, just let me make you something—Jesus stop eating it! There's no way that's nutritious at all!"
"Fuck nutrition!" You shout back, sounding almost like a child in your defiance.
"Fuck girl dinner!" Carmy counters expertly, though there's a hint of a laugh within his words. In the phrase coming from both his lips and your own, he finds a sort of hilarity, though the point he's trying to make is a genuine one.
"But I love girl dinner." You raise your brows as if that's the perfect blow, the one that will win you the fight, despite the statements lack of foundation.
"Well, I love you, and I can't let you eat cheese string and oreos—is that a slice of fucking orange?"
"What could you make that's better than this?" It's a stupid question, and one you know that answer to as you gesture down at the plate with one hand.
"Anything, fucking anything!" Carmy runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. "What d'you want, I'll make you something, anything, just stop with girl dinner."
You take the slice of orange and bite into it, eyes locked on Carmen's. "The point of tonight's girl dinner is that I don't want to cook, and I also don't want you to cook."
"That's my fucking job."
"Exactly, you spend all day cooking, i don't want you to have to come home and cook for me too." Your voice is softer now, sweet and soothing, Carmy letting out a sigh at the sound of it.
He moves forward, taking the plate from you and placing it on the stool beside the couch. "Look, I don't mind. I don't mind making you something every once'n a while. You deal with all my shit all the fucking time, it's the least I can do." He takes your hands in his own, pressing his forehead to yours. "Just let me make you something."
"You're ruining the point of girl dinner." You mumble, pressing a short kiss to his lips as Carmy's hands run soothingly up and down your arms.
"Don't care." His mutters back, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen, your other meal long abandoned on the stool to be disposed of later.
Days pass, Carmy is still thinking about it, and when he gets to work, he has to say something to the others. "Caught my girlfriend eating fucking orange slices and oreos for dinner the other night." He mutters whilst searing a steak in prep for a menu change. He glimpes Sydney nodding, and as Fak moves behind him, the man decides to speak.
"Girl dinner, good for her."
Carmy turns so fast to face the man that he almost sets his shirt alight on the element, thinking over the utter complexities of the term. "But what the fuck is girl dinner? How do you even know about–never mind."
"You know," Fak begins as Carmy runs a hand over his face in frustration, "this is my meal, I call this girl dinner" He's reciting something though Carmen has no clue where this is going, and when Fak starts singing it all seems to get worse.
He's repeating the phrase, and yet it still means nothing to Carmy as he moves away, leaving Fak to harmonize with Sydney as he picks up the phone.
Pressing call on your contact is like muscle memory, and the sound of the first few rings leaves him impatient, though you pick up eventually.
"Hey," he mutters into the phone, listening to your voice as you parrot the word back.
"Hey, what's up?" You sound preoccupied, and Carmy swears he can hear the closing of a cupboard door, the rustling of a packet of chips.
"Uh, nothing, I just... I wanted to call and ask if you're all good for dinner tonight." He's closed his eyes, leaning against the door of his office as the quiet settles over him. "D'you need anything?"
You answer almost too fast, suspicion creeping through the line with its grasp on your voice. "No, no, I'm good. Dinner's all good."
Carmy catches the tone, a small amused smile wriggling upon his lips. "Cool, so uh, what're you having?" He scared of the answer, if you decide to be honest—which you don't.
"I was thinking tacos, maybe, I haven't decided."
"Nice," Carmy chuckles, "so none of that girl dinner shit? No orange slices and string cheese?" Carmy can almost picture it as the words come to mind, the plate of horrors he'd witnessed not a week before. There's silence over the phone, and Carmy can hear you heave a sigh, loud and final, as you come to terms with your lie. You don't say anything, though, so Carmy fills the space.
"I'm coming home t'night," he whispers into the receiver, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he adjusts his apron. "Me, you and the tacos, okay?"
His voice is so gentle, the affection dripping from the words like honey, and he's truly never spoken to someone with as much care. It scares him sometimes, just how much he loves you.
"Carmy, I make the worst fucking tacos." Your smile is hidden within the sentence, and it reaches Carmy like a wave washing the sand, though you're so far from him right now.
"Yeah, I uh, I know. That's why I'm cooking." The kitchen is starting to get loud outside Carmy's office door, and he knows he has to get out there soon to save whatever is left of the peace.
"You don't have to do that, Carm," you exhale, and he can almost picture you, leaning against the kitchen bench, strands of hair loose that, if he was with you, he would be dying to push back into place.
"I want to." He means it, the words he says. "You're important to me, and I want you to know that. I do."
Carmy doesn't know it, but you're grinning on the other end of the line, blood rushing to your cheeks at the thought of his affection. His love.
"Okay." You whisper, "you're important to me too, Carm."
That means everything to Carmy, and he's so desperate to hold onto this, so desperate to not mess this all up. Not after Claire.
"I love you." It's unusual for him to say it first, but he does this time, and his voice soothes any stress you might have. He can hear you smile when you speak again and knows he'll be thinking about the sound of your words for the rest of the day.
"Love you too, bear, see you tonight."
CARMEN BERZATTO TAGLIST: @thrutheburnout @norriebunny @yeschefthankyouchef
THE BEAR TAGLIST: @live-love-be-unique
#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagines#carmy berzatto fanfic#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto fanfiction#the bear#the bear fx#the bear fanfiction#the bear fanfic#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto fanfic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto imagines#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto one shot#carmen berzatto drabble#carmen berzatto one shot#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy the bear#sydney adamu#neil fak#the bear imagines#the bear imagine
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Hi hun! I just love love love your pieces <3
As for Carmy prompts - could we have some hurt to comfort when Carmen doesn't show up for a date? It's ok if you dont wanna do it or i requested incorrectly, but if you do, i cant wait to read!!!!! Thank you so much mwah mwah mwah
I’m not thaaaaaat sure how I feel about this and it’s so long but your request was so sweet I had to!!! Ily <3333
wc:1.1k
There’s so fucking much in his ear. Fak’s screaming whatever bullshit he’s sure will help absolutely nothing, Richie’s harassing Sydney and Tina’s trying to keep them all in line and will of that goddamn chaos, he shouldn’t be able to make out anything.
Prepping this whole thing, the opening, Richie biting his head off for fucking sending him to the best kitchen in the city- it’s all a bit fucking much.
He barely hears the door open (she has a key, because of course she does) and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he calls out her name.
“Hey, baby,” he yells back towards the entrance. It feels good, chopping the vegetables. It’s actually one of her favorite dishes that he’s making, and something inside him preens that he gets to feed her tonight. Everything feels illustrious under her gaze. He remembers the first time he’d cooked for her, how her watchful gaze felt a bit like sunlight; equal parts burning and doused in light.
She’d said she liked his hands, then. Said he looked pretty with a knife and a cutting board. “Will you try this sauce for me?”
He hears her heels click, the soft thud of her purse landing on the couch. It’s a slow saunter she does to him, but he’s razor focused- what does it need, garlic? Oregano?
It only breaks when he sees her. And she looks gorgeous. Wearing a black dress with a cowl neck, shimmery eyeshadow that catches and dances in the low light of the kitchen, a crimson lipstick neatly applied to her beautiful pout.
She smells like vanilla, and Carmen has the privilege of knowing what real, rich, Madagascar vanilla smells like. He’d loved the scent so much that he’d bought her a perfume made from it, and there’s a warmth blooming in his chest when he realizes that she’s wearing it.
Wordlessly, she opens her mouth and leans forward to try the sauce covered wooden spoon he’d raised to her lips.
Even when she’s in front of him, he can’t believe she’s someone he knows. That she’s wasting her time with someone like him.
“Jesus Christ you look beautiful,” he says without thinking, and he kisses her quick. It’s true. She’s a vision, plucked out of an old movie shot on grainy film, warm to the touch film.
He abandons the spoon and the sauce without much fanfare, a rough, calloused hand meeting her soft warm cheek.
“Thanks, Carmen.” she says, but her doe-eyes deny the joy she typically exudes in his presence. It’s his proudest achievement, how she glows around him. She’s tight lipped, smile betraying her words.
“What’s wrong? Is it the sauce? I know it’s a mess in here, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d see it-“
“No! No, seriously, it’s okay, honey.” She tries to insist but it really doesn’t work. He moves the pot off the burner and twists himself completely to face her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He tries not to let it sting, how she stiffens for a moment before softening again.
“What happened?” He asks again.
“It’s the first,” she says, a rueful grin on her pretty lips, before gesturing down at her outfit, and oh.
The dinner. The fucking dinner that he’d promised her. His sweet girl, who waited up every night, who dutifully tasted every recipe, who soothed him on nights where nightmares stole his sleep-
“Fuck,” he says, more to himself than her, but god, he can’t stop looking at her, “Fuck! God, I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry-“ he insists, suddenly so grateful that she’s letting him touch her, even more aware of every point of contact with the sudden fear that it could escape in a moment’s notice.
“Y’know, Carm, if you could’ve just told me that would’ve been one thing? But I left the reservation, and this was the one night we both had off!”
“I know, baby, fuck, I forgot-“
She backs away from him, and there’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Sitting on the chair he keeps by the stove (he put it there for her, because she loved watching him) she pinches the bridge of her nose.
“It’s just not fair, Carm. To either of us. If you don’t have time for this-“
“I have time for this! I have time. Don’t say things like that.”
“Carmy, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that’s the last thing I want.”
And it is. It’s the last thing she wants, and Carmen fucking knows it. Knows that three months in he’s supposed to have brought her flowers and taken her out and done more than cook for her and spend hours in his shitty apartment, and lately she’s been asking if he has time for being in a relationship.
And maybe he doesn’t, but fuck it if he doesn’t feel like he can breathe around her. This was the point of the dinner- take her out, be a boyfriend. Have her wait a little while on him. Show her he’s worth it.
Instead he fucking missed it, stayed home and made sauce no one would even eat.
“I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing her hand and lacing it through his own. It always shocks him, how it fits his own. “Okay? I’m so, so fuckin’ sorry. Tell me what I can do. Tell me, cos I’ll do just about fuckin’ anything to get you to stop saying shit like that.”
Her voice comes out small.
“I was alone, Carm. They kept trying to take my order and you weren’t there, and eventually I had to leave.“
She looks up at him, eyes sparkling and kind and Carmen. She looks beautiful, and if he wasn’t with her, he’d see her in the street and hate whatever fuck was lucky enough to be who she got dressed up for.
“I am so, so sorry. It’s just with the stove, and Fak, and Richie fucking calling me to bitch me out every thirty seconds,” she reaches her delicate fingers to brush his cheek with concern, “I should’ve remembered. It’s just about the only thing this week worth remembering. And you look…stunning, I should’ve been there. I should’ve. Please.”
Her expression softens and he loves the sight of her, warm and kind and lovely in both form and temperance. She’s so patient with him, responds with kindness- a gift.
She brushes her soft lips on his cheek and he tries to savor the sensation, note how warm and wonderful it is to have her form pressed against his, how her arms knot themselves around his waist.
“I know you’re stressed, babe,” she murmurs against his cheek, eyes shut, “tell you what. Why don’t you make me something better than what that place could’ve, huh?”
After he kisses her for so long that excess is no longer the right terminology, he makes her the best pasta she’s ever had in her goddamn life.
It’s better this way, anyway. She’s gorgeous in a way that’s just his to look at tonight.
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x You#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto imagine#the bear#the bear x reader
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CINNAMON SUGAR — CARMEN BERZATTO
summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.
length 2k
contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice
Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesn’t block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. It’s late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.
He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when you’re asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.
You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. “…Bear?”
“Yeah, ‘s me, baby.” Even at a whisper, he thinks he’s too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.
A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hours’ rest. “You coming to bed soon?”
“Almost,” he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks he’s worthy of. “Needa take a shower first, alright? But I’ll be right back.”
He could’ve done that much by now—could’ve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing you—but truthfully, waiting any longer would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he could’ve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.
“Okay,” you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.
He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. There’s a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the day’s stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampoo—the one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that he’s been purchasing ever since to keep you happy—before cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better it’d feel, how much more relief he’d get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. You’ve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and you’re waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, he’ll do it.
He hops out of the water like it’s acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, he’ll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing more—you’ll keep him warm enough under the blankets.
It’s only then—when he peels back those final layers—that he realizes he’s been smiling the whole time.
Once he’s settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, you’re turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there.
“Hey,” he coos, “Y’don’t have to move f’me, yeah? Just sleep, baby.” Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder.
And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. “ ‘S more comfy this way, Carm.” You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. “You smell good, too.”
He can’t even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesn’t run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. “ ‘S that shampoo you got me a while ago…Sometime this week—” he yawns, and if he weren’t dying to hear your voice a few more times, he’d be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easily— “Sometime this week we can go t’the store, you can pick out another body wash f’me to try, too.”
“Mm, I’d like that.” You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. “How was it today?” The restaurant. His headaches. Richie’s mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.
“Was alright,” he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. “Real busy, so I didn’t get to leave ‘till late, ‘m sorry.”
“ ‘S alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.” You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. “I was gonna ask you to bring something home, but it’s a weekend, so I didn’t wanna bother you in a rush.”
“What’d you want?”
From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds he’s ever heard. “I just wanted some fries, honestly…didn’t feel like going out.”
“Heh,” he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceiling—as if looking at you would make the moment disappear. “I would’ve picked ‘em up for you, ‘r at least had Fak get ‘em to you.”
You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answer’s a bit softer. “Uh-uh, I like them better when you make ‘em.”
“Yeah? ‘ve I been pampering you too much?” He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but it’s all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work he’s put in—all the love he has for you—makes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person he’s sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any critic’s review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and that’s enough.
“Of course you have,” you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. “You’re always so sweet to me, Bear—” one more quick peck just beneath his ear— “love when you cook for me.”
He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he can’t always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: “Y’know, uh…Marcus’s been playing around with recipes…”
He feels you smile against his chest, knowing what’s to come. “Yeah?”
“Mhm, an’ I’d never let ‘im serve ‘em, ‘cause, y’know…” He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. “They don’t fit the menu…but uh, he made these…these rolls today…”
“Mhm? ‘M listening…”
Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. “I think you’d like ‘em, he had some classic cinnamon, ‘n…a blueberry lemon goin’…”
“That sounds really good,” you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.
“I know,” he drawls, and he’s a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, “Which is why I said I’d let ‘im fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.”
“Did you really?” The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call.
He figures that’s why he’s so drawn to you—all the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. “ ‘F course, baby…”
It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries it’ll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, he’d stop breathing before pulling your hand away. It’s soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when you’re not around.
“I brought…” He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. “I brought you some of the cinnamon rolls…Sugar liked ‘em…they’re on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'…” He’s not sure whether it’s your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed he’s ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.
“Thank you, my love,” slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline.
And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over him—at least part of him does, the part that’s still awake—because the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle there’s a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesn’t warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.
Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, you’ll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.
And he’ll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmy berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto imagines#carmen berzatto imagine#the bear#carmy the bear#the bear fx#the bear x reader#the bear season 2
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confectionary clash - carmen berzatto
pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)
summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.
wordcount: 3.2k
warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.
a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!
as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.
that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.
carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.
on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.
richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.
richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.
now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.
it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.
except on days like this.
you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.
upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.
“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.
you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.
“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.
“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.
“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.
a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.
as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.
richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.
a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.
“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.
__
in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.
"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.
"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.
“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.
“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.
your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.
richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.
richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.
“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.
richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.
“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.
however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.
with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.
outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.
the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.
turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.
throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.
“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”
“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“
“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”
“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.
carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”
“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”
an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”
“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.
“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.
you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind
“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.
a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.
the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.
“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.
“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”
“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.
your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.
carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.
“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.
“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.
“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.
nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.
it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.
you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.
with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.
you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”
the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.
thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.
“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#the bear#the bear imagine#carmy berzatto imagine#x reader#carmen berzatto imagine
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Silence
prompt: ( requested ) anxiety plays tricks on your mind, making you mistake your boyfriend's stress for anger - at you.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 2.5k+
note: it's short but to the point.
warnings: cursing, hurt and comfort, depiction of mental health: anxiety, slight self-destructive thoughts.
Silence could be a good thing.
Libraries were silent for ample focus.
Theaters were silent during the showing.
Sometimes, long drives were peacefully silent.
Silence could also be a bad thing.
Demanding an explanation and the silence stretches.
The silence before a doctor delivers life-changing news.
Asking someone if they're okay and they don't answer.
When your boyfriend, Carmy, had returned from work that evening, he slammed the front door, dropped his backpack, toed out of his shoes, and stormed around the apartment silently. He didn't greet you, didn't offer a kiss, nothing - just breezed past you as if a pile of dirty laundry he's ignored for the past two weeks. You watched him from the kitchen, sipping a glass of wine, worry sprouting in your gut and chest. It was obvious something was bothering him - but couldn't fathom what it was that made him ignore you; to make him not look at you one single time.
It was like you weren't even there with the way he projected his moodiness. Even on his worst days, he always always always greeted you with a kiss; but the lack of affection hallowed your chest into a pit, wondering what you had done to make him avoid you.
Suddenly, the silence was eerily deafening, coiling your stomach and pumping lead through your veins; no TV or radio switched on to fill the void and create passive, background audio. Carmy was obviously upset about something, but the fact that he didn't even look at you made you think he didn't want to talk. This worried you because before dating, you and Camry Berzatto were the best of friends; talking about literally any and everything you could think of. He came to you with every single grievance, every frustration, every slice of drama - so why wouldn't he now?
Unless... Unless you were the cause of his annoyance? The idea made the pit in your chest stretch to your gut - anxiety rapidly spreading, confusion warping rational thought into something darker and self deprecating. The idea of upsetting Carmy - or anyone, for that matter - was enough to bubble nausea and turn your skin clammy. Muscles tensed, eyes darted, and your mind was plagued with every single thing you had said or done in the past 16 hours.
However, your memory couldn't pinpoint any moment you could've upset him; things had been normal and easy-going lately, there being no clear indication you were the culprit of Carmy's anger. However, there didn't need to be anything clear because your mind was fully convinced you were the bad guy now.
After swallowing a gulp of wine, your eyes adverted to give him privacy and begin on dinner; being obvious that his phone was much more important than you right now. Unfortunately, when it came to picking which sauce to dress your meal with, you were forced to slowly enter the living room where your boyfriend had taken refuge.
"Hey, baby?"
"Hmm?"
You tried not to be offended by his lack of verbal acknowledgement, but your intestines flipped and grew heavy. "Uh, just wondering, you want the marinara or Alfredo tonight with the - "
"Doesn't matter, you choose."
"I mean, which would you prefer?"
"I just said it didn't matter," he repeated with a hardening tone, "it's not like it's a difficult decision to make."
You didn't want to make his attitude worse, so you backed off silently and returned to your task. Yes, yes, Carmy was the professional cook between you but that didn't mean he wanted to come home and continue the act. So, you learned a few new recipes to keep meals interesting - a feat your boyfriend didn't seem to appreciate or even recognize most days. Tonight especially.
Tension tangibly filled the apartment the longer the silence stretched. Your mind conjured a hundred questions at once, begging your mouth to run rapidly if it meant getting answers - yet your logic stuck the words in your throat, refusing to let them fly, and even shoving them deep down for your soul to hold.
You poured a second glass of wine, throat thickening with silent emotion. There was always the worry in the back of your mind that Carmy would one day realize you didn't fit into his life and would break up with you. Or that perhaps, his irritation tonight wasn't due to anything you did specifically, but instead, was attested to your normal behavior and quirks - like the want to talk throughout the day.
Blinking the moisture away, you remembered Carmy hadn't answered a single one of your texts the entire day - a normal act for you, but maybe one that now got on your boyfriend's nerves. You dished up dinner, standing in the open kitchen with two plates and feeling silly for the nerves prickling your skin. You barely noticed the slight tremor in your hands. "Dinner's ready, Carm," you alerted, leaving the plates on the kitchen island you normally ate at; distracted by the need to pour a glass of water.
When you turned, your heart stalled in your chest when you noticed his plate missing - locating him in the living room, again, and it being obvious he didn't intend to eat with you. Now you knew for sure, you had indeed done something. So, you gingerly took a seat and tried to take up as little space as possible; shying in on yourself, eating silently and quickly so you could do the dishes right after.
Sure, there was usually the rule that the cook didn't clean, but there was no way you were gonna ask Carmy to do the simple chore; afraid of pushing him over whatever edge he teetered at. After storing any leftovers, you started the dishwasher and retreated to your bedroom with another glass of wine and the intention to get a bath. You felt like a glaring inconvenience all of a sudden, regret inking your blood and reprimanding yourself for being so - so - so... Clingy?
Is that what it was? Did Carmy think you were clingy? Perhaps texting him throughout the day without him ever answering was the final straw of annoyance he felt toppled the haystack. You wanted to apologize and eliminate the tension, but couldn't necessarily understand what you were sorry for; thinking you were simply paying attention to him, being attentive and interested in his everyday life.
Maybe you needed to apologize for being suffocating? Was that it? Your love was suffocating him? Was he feeling pressured by you? Did he think you two too comfortable in this relationship? Was your wall of texts an indication you were more serious than he? Oh, God, was that it - did Carmy think you were getting too serious, too fast?
Granted it'd been a few years of dating, a lifetime of friendship before that - so how much more serious could you get? Why would your attempts of communication rub him the wrong way? How could the pair of you ever manage to fall off from the same page? Make him think you were pushing for something more? Didn't he know he was enough for you? Didn't he appreciate your presence? The want to be closer? Your desire to maintain the friendship your relationship was built off of? The appreciation you had for him? The support you wanted to offer?
You soaked in epsom salt for the better part of half an hour. Draining the tub, drying off, and changing into pajamas were done silently; feeling almost fearful to venture out of the bedroom to return your wine glass to the sink.
So you decided to just get in bed, figuring if Carmy was so angry at you that it resulted in him ignoring you, he wouldn't want to sleep beside you, either. With your thick framed glasses on, you nestled into bed with your newest novel, trying not to let your mind go into overdrive as your need to fix whatever was upsetting Carmy was overwhelming. Yet there was also the nagging idea that trying to fix whatever was 'broken' would've made things worse - again, resulting in you doing nothing and giving Carmy his space.
The silence haunted the apartment like a ghostly presence; leering over your heads, embracing you uncomfortably.
When the bedroom door opened, you masked your surprise and just read the same paragraph three times in a row - distracted by your boyfriend milling around, preparing for bed. Your eyes widened in shock when the bed dipped and shifted, jostling you as Carmy got into bed beside you, but you still didn't look up from your book.
"What're you reading, sweetheart?"
His mood swings often gave you whiplash. You glanced at Carmy, finger holding your place to let you fold the book over and present the title on the cover. You worried that anything you said and did could make this tension fester, so, you remained silent and went back to reading.
"Is it any good?" He pondered, watching your profile. You nodded mutely, lips slowly rolling between your teeth in a show of anxiety Carmy could now recognize. "Hey, hey, you all right, babe?" He asked softly, sounding mildly confused - perhaps even alarmed.
"Yeah, 'course," you mumbled.
"Well, how was work?"
"Fine."
"You sure?"
"Mhm."
There was a brief pause, then Carmy gently pried, "C'mon, baby, what's wrong? Why're you so quiet?" He chuckled gently, "Usually so talkative in the evenings."
You offered him a bewildered look with slightly pinched brows, swallowing nervously and slowly shutting your book to trace the spine mindlessly in an effort to distract yourself. Typically when anxious, your hands needed stimulation, something tangible to do and feel when your mind numbed with nervousness.
With a great deal of bravery, more than you thought was necessary to muster when talking to the person you love, you asked softly, "Are you mad at me, Carm? I mean, did I do something? T-To upset you?"
"Wait, what?" He asked in confusion. "Nah, baby, you didn't do anything, why would you even ask?"
"'Cause you've been ignoring me...?"
He scoffed, "Ah, 'cause I didn't answer your texts?"
"That, and you've been ignoring me in favor of your phone since you got home. Slamming doors, brooding in the living room, didn't eat dinner with me - got a little snappy when I asked what sauce for dinner? Feels like I did something but I don't know what, so I don't know how to fix this."
Carmy sighed, leaning back to the mound of soft and fluffed pillows you had stacked on your shared bed. "Shit," he breathed, huffing a dramatic sigh, "didn't even realize I was doin' all that, baby."
"If you're mad, just tell me what I did - "
"No, no, hey, hey, hey, hey," he rushed, turning on his side to look at you, elbow supporting his weight; clocking the glassiness coating your eyes. "You didn't do anything, baby, I swear. There's nothing for you to fix 'cause you didn't do nothin'. I just - I've been havin' a shit day, didn't realize I was bein' mean to you let alone that you'd take it to heart."
"Kinda hard not to when I'm the only one here."
"No, right, I get that," he sighed. "I'm sorry, baby, I know you get anxious when I shut down like that, but I promise, I'm not mad at you."
"Well, who else would you be mad at? I thought you were annoyed 'cause I was texting you all day. Thought I was, I don't know, being clingy or something since you didn't answer me."
Carmen frowned, "Sweetheart, no, hang on, listen to me. You didn't do anything to upset me, okay? I didn't answer you 'cause I dropped my phone in the sink and it got all glitchy, I couldn't answer you. I tried to fix it when I got home, but I think I fried it - should just get a new one. It was just one of those days that everything went to shit, it all built up, got the better of me."
You nodded, still looking dejected and making a shot of guilt plunge his heart. "You usually talk to me when you're upset," you pointed out softly, "and when you didn't say anything, I thought I was the reason you were upset. Figured you wouldn't talk to me if I did something to cause your attitude."
"No, hey, I'm sorry, c'mere, baby," he opened his arms and curled them around you when you shuffled into his chest. "Shit, I'm really sorry, I didn't even realize what I was doing - but Goddamnit, that's no excuse, though. I don't mean t'take my shit out on you, you don't deserve that."
"I just got a little nervous, maybe let my anxiety get the better of me."
"That's okay," he promised, kissing your forehead, "I can understand why. I was a dickhead, being snappy and ignoring you when all you do is support and love me. I'm real sorry, sweetheart," he sighed against your skin, tightening his arms to keep you cocooned in his warmth. "You know, you can always talk to me - don't gotta shut yourself down and avoid me."
"Do you even hear yourself? Should take your own advice."
"Yeah, I should," he smirked. "Hey, promise I'll do better not to shut down like that."
You nodded in acceptance, wondering softly, "Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever happened today?"
"Uh, nah, you know what? Think I owe you some cuddles, maybe a dessert? You know, to make up for my bullshit attitude."
"You don't have to - "
"I got you all worked up, feels like the least I can do."
With a hum, you smirked, "I won't say no to a slice of cheesecake."
"What baby wants, she gets," he grinned, a hand caressing your cheek to direct your eyes up to his. His thumb swept back and forth under your eye, "Still sorry about today. I didn't mean to be such an oblivious dickhead, I swear."
You nodded, "I know, baby. Just don't shut me out next time. Had me worried when you didn't even kiss me when you got home."
"A heinous crime on my part," Carmy smirked. "Should I remedy that?"
"I'd be offended if you didn't."
He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours in a soothing kiss, hand sliding to the back of your neck. It was a slow and languid kiss, something he took his time in engaging; lips sticking together, moving in-sync, creating chains of saliva when he pushed his tongue against yours. "Yeah," he mumbled, "I'm the dumb fuck who had you thinkin' I didn't want this from you." He pressed another kiss to your waiting lips, "You're intoxicating, baby - always want your kisses. Yeah? Always. The day I don't, take me out back like Old Yeller."
You wanted to voice that he wanted your kisses now until one day, he simply wouldn't - but refrained from doing so because you knew it was just anxiety talking. So, instead, you chuckled at his comment and leaned in to initiate your own kiss.
requesting rules and masterlist
FX's The Bear masterlist
#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#carmy x reader#carmy#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto fic#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto x female!reader#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x f!reader#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x oc#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x female!reader#carmen berzatto x female reader#carmy berzatto x female reader#carmen berzatto x oc#carmy the bear#the bear carmy#carmy berzatto fluff#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu
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Hurricane
This is part 1. You can read part 2 here.
Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader
Summary: The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension between him and y/n.
Word Count: 9.5k
warning: alcohol, mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close, fighting, smoking
--
Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyone’s pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick.
“It’s not-” Carmen started. “It’s fixable.”
Y/n didn’t say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. It’s not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldn’t help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons.
“We just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.”
More silence.
They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didn’t want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.
Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile.
“Tell me something good, y/n.” Carmen mumbled through his hands.
It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you can’t make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good.
“At least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.” Y/n offered.
“Yeah,” Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldn’t make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died.
“And let's not forget that your “loan shark” is your uncle and he won’t smash your kneecaps.” Y/n jokingly muttered, “Probably?”
Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him.
“What's the payment situation going to be like? …What is the interest?”
“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”
“That's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?”
“Uncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.”
One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.
“You think there's going to be strippers?”
Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so… so…
“There will be at least strippers.” Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen.
Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasn’t able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, “Have you ever been to a strip club?”
She didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair.
For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasn’t worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.
“No I haven’t. You?” He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.
“Of course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?” Carmen’s head shot up.
“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”
“You worked in one? As a… dancer?” Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.
“You call strippers “dancers”? What are you, 90? No, I was not a “dancer.” I was a bartender.”
“Hmm” Carmen pondered before adding, “I knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.”
“My lack of coordination aside,” y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, “I spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.”
“I have a cousin in the Marines,” Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.
“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”
Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.
“Would you ever be a stripper?”
3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face.
Holy fuck… what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind. She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part? She was enjoying herself.
“I don’t think I would make a good one.” He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark.
He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second.
“It's your eyes.” Y/n humorously pondered, “They’re too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?”
Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy.
Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, “You could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.”
What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life.
Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired.
“Judging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and more…” Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment, “tempting.”
Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, “Carmy, you’ve got a big day tomorrow why don’t we get you home?”
Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his hand—warm, calloused, and undeniably strong.
After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place.
“Where did you park your car?” Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys.
“My car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.”
“You're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?”
“It's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.”
“That's how people get kidnapped, y/n”
“Don't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why don’t I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"
Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new.
“Let me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.”
“My place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.” Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad.
“It's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.”
Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"
“Let me do this for you…Please.”
Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.
“Ok, thank you so much Carmen. You really are…kind.” Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation.
“It’s the least I can do.” Carmen didn’t have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurant’s financial situation so this was the best he could do.
They both walked to Carmen’s car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didn’t want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night.
They finally walked up to Carmen’s car, and Carmen opened y/n’s door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car.
“You good?”
“Sorry.” Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.
“I can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark."
Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place.
Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmen’s boldness. Y/n couldn’t take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, “Let me look up the directions, I’m geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.” Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh.
“Geographical blind”, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up.
The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/n’s place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield.
“Thanks again Carmen.”
“Will your car be back tomorrow?”
“The day after.”
“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”
“That's too much Carmen, You aren’t obligated to do this. I’ll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.” Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didn’t want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldn’t keep imposing.
“I’ll drop you off, it's not a big deal.” He left no room for negotiation.
Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/n’s side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed.
“Carmen, you really are too… you're just too…” Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, “Good.”
Y/n couldn’t see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didn’t know if she made him uncomfortable.
“Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow Carm.” Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off.
She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasn’t a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment.
She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to find his phone.
Carmen spoke first, “I just wanted to make sure you…”
“I got home safe.” Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories.
Y/n continued, “Go home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.” She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave.
“Night y/n”
And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didn’t jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out.
Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didn’t need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.
Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting.
If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over?
Awkward silence.
“Good morning.” Y/n started.
“Morning, did Carmen fill you in?” Carmen’s “uncle” asked.
"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.
“I'm Cicero…” Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, “Uncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming today”
No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in.
“As much as I love the mystery, I do have work to do…so…why am I here?”
Cicero spoke up, “Carmy’s got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.”
“Catering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilarating” Y/n said sarcastically. “I'll be there. I’ve got to the kitchen, I shouldn’t leave Tina alone with my prep-”
“Look, I'm going to be honest with you…” Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did.
“Did you work out front a week ago?” Cicero asked.
“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”
“One of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought you…looked…” It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. “They want you to be there.” Cicero finished.
“This is what you were holding off on, we’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?” Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously.
“Be there and do what?” Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasn’t really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.
“I'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.” Y/n couldn’t hide the look of bewilderment and relief.
“Jesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with them…Yes I can serve drinks. I’ll be there” Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.
“Do you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?”
Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.
“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly.
Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. “What the fuc-” Carmen fumed.
“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.
“Without you 5k, with 10k”. That made Richie stop laughing.
“Let me think about it.”
Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his “uncle.” Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance.
The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant.
Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow.
“I'm going to serve at that party.” Y/n whispered.
“Yeah, no shit you are.” Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly.
“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned
“Who says no to 10 fucking grand?” Richie exclaimed.
They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office.
The silence was killing y/n so she started, “It's just one day.”
“Only a few hours” Richie offered
“Which is basically just a few minutes.” Y/n reasoned.
“Which is really just a few seconds.” Richie added.
More silence.
“It's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.”
“Yeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.” Y/n remarked.
“You would be fucking crazy to say no.”
“Yeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.” Y/n chimed in.
Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. “That is not happening. You aren’t doing this.”
“It's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.” Y/n added, “God helps those who help themselves.”
“You're religious?” Richie questioned
“No, but he’s Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.” Y/n whispered.
“I can fucking hear the both of you.” Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didn’t really know how to convince him to let her help him.
“What specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?” If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries.
Carmen brooded in his corner. People didn’t give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n.
“I got something tonight.” Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.
They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n.
“Tell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?”
“That's one of many concerns.” Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldn’t let this happen.
“I'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.”
“You are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?”
“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.”
Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that is?”
“You don’t know what it is?” Y/n had to resist snickering. “So basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap you…Do you want to see a video?” Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.
Carmen didn’t know why he was humoring this and he didn’t want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasn’t too bad…
Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not.
Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor.
Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, “Carmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.”
A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.
“You do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.” Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver.
Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft “yeah”. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow.
Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didn’t change his mind. “Why don’t you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request
She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k.
She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasn’t much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors.
A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/n’s hands and scrubbing for her.
He finally looked up, “I will be by your side the entire time. You can’t go anywhere unless I can see you-”
“What if I have to use the bathroom?”
“No.”
“No?”
“What if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?”
“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”
“You can't cross the counter.” Y/n wasn’t going to anyways.
“And I have to drive you home.” That stupefied y/n.
“What? Why?”
”What if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?”
“Carmen, you’re thinking too much. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I’m not letting you do this unless-”
“Alright Carmen. We will do this your way.” Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good.
Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.
They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldn’t last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer.
The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie.
“Is it handled?”
“It's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.”
“That bastard said yes?” Shocked didn’t really cover what Richie felt.
Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “I know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-”
“No wise cracks.”
“Also, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.”
“Sure thing princess.”
“Do not-”
They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen.
“You can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's… and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.”
“Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?” Carmen didn’t say anything.
“How about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.”
Carmen smirked, “That's not really even.”
“I'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and don’t even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.” They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do? Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes.
They finally “found" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didn’t forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home.
The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose.
The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute.
The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived.
“Hey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?”
Carmen’s face betrayed nothing so she couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, “The band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.”
“Can I see what the booze situation looks like?” She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadn’t taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.
“Carmen, can you turn up the heat?” Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.
“I feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.”
Richie gwaffed,” Don’t worry you’ll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.” Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.
“Hey, save that for our esteemed guests.” Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed.
Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.
Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasn’t really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk.
The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didn’t stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible.
A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk.
“Payback time.”
Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better.
Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now.
The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the other’s ear just to hear each other.
“You gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen ”
“Who’s getting this special order?” Carmen smirked, he was having fun.
“The groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancée at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.” Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk.
“It's so tacky and…and…yuck. Hard pass.”
Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasn’t going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel “yuck” about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party.
“Have you seen the women here? Very pretty.” Y/n teased.
Y/n didn’t really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmen’s witnessing the same scene. Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.
The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself. Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.
Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, “Uhh, I haven’t really taken a look.”
Y/n doubted that but she didn’t want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes.
“You should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.”
“I can guarantee you that they are not.” Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.
“Hey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.” Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didn’t even look up from the water cups.
Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her
“I like it here.”
“So you like to watch.” Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together.
Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, “Yeah I do.”
“Mr. Berzatto, have you been drinking you’ve gotten, dare I say, bold?”
Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what?
“I think it's time to get this show on the road.” Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes.
“You promised, you wouldn’t.”
“I can't get to the counter from here…why don’t you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguard” Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/n’s dress was so tight and short that she couldn’t really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something.
Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, “Can I touch you?”
Holy…mother…of…fuck. Y/n’s brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy “yes”.
Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful.
"Tattoo?"
Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.
Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee.
“Your past the counter, chef”
Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter.
Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.
“For our guest of honor.” Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath, y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter.
Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm.
“Make it hurt.”
Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie.
“Its fucking boiling in here” Carmen commented, “Can you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.” Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought. Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. “Richie, the fucking thermostat.”
Richie complained but Carmen wasn’t paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.
“When is this shit show supposed to end?” Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible.
“Two more hours.” Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter.
“My ass and thighs are numb.” Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men.
“Would you like a shot?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seen a million guys take it, aren’t you curious?”
Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didn’t even know how to react. “I have to drive you home.” His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside.
“A shot of water?” y/n offered.
Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?
He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes,
“Hit me with your best shot, chef.”
Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmen’s face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position.
“How was that, chef?”
It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmen’s hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldn’t step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter.
“I can understand the appeal.” Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock.
Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. “Do you want to step out? I think I need a break”
Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.
“It's nauseating in there.” Y/n exhaled.
Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.
“I need to go to bed.”
“20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.”
“I need to see this place after it’s cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.” That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie.
A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.
Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.
“Shit” Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didn’t go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head.
The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there.
Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didn’t have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have the energy to make a fool of herself.
She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmen’s arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasn’t real. Like she didn’t see Richie bash some fucker’s skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch.
“Let's get you home.” Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car.
Y/n laughter died down. “I can’t go home, not with Richie in jail.”
“You need some sleep”
“And you don’t? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?” Carmen didn’t reply or look up at her.
Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her.
"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.
The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.
“Keep it on, it's cold here” Carmen muttered.
“I have a jacket”
“It's too light.” Carmen’s eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasn’t working. Carmen’s eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap.
Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness.
Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eye’s meet Richie’s and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“Aggravated Assault.”
Carmen let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on.
Richie watched but didn’t have any motivation to say anything but a simple, “You got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?”
“We’ll see when she wakes up.”
--
Part 2
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmy x you#carmy#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#the bear#the bear fic#carmen berzatto x y/n#carmen carmy berzatto#the bear x reader#the bear hulu#the bear imagine#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto imagine#jeremy allen white#jeremy allen white imagine
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Six Months
An attempt at some parenthood angst?
Similarly to the title, this fic has been in my WIP folder for a minute; it went through a handful of edits. I'd like to think this is good enough for y'all.
Carmy sat in the office staring at the paperwork Sugar needed his signature on; when he saw the date on his phone, it hit him—today marked six months. Six months of parenthood and six months of celibacy, to say Carmy was sexually frustrated, was an understatement. “Hey Carm, did you- are you okay?” Sugar asked when she caught him staring blankly at his phone. He didn’t respond until she put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his trance. He looked at her before quickly apologizing, “Sorry, what were you sayin'?” Sugar grinned as she patted his shoulder, “You okay, Bear?”
Carmy nodded and straightened up in his desk chair, “Yea- just thinkin’ bout the baby.”
Carmy got home from work late. He quietly slipped his jacket off, and hung it on the coat rack before removing his shoes. Walking down the hallway, he slipped into the nursery, knowing the baby would be asleep. He found it impossible not to be happy in her room. The walls were decorated with vintage floral wallpaper you’d bought off Etsy, it may have been a pain in the ass to put up, but Carmy happily obliged when he saw how happy it had made you. He crept to his baby girl’s crib and felt the day's stress disappear. She was peacefully sleeping in a light pink sleep sack, furiously sucking away on her pacifier. “Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered. “I love you.”
The joy of watching his daughter sleep faded away as he approached the askew door to the master bedroom the two of you shared. “I’m home, baby.” Carmy grinned as he walked toward the open closet door, “Hi, Carm.” you called from the bathroom. When he entered the bathroom, you were brushing your teeth. As the mix of salvia and toothpaste residue dripped from your mouth Carmy’s breath hitched- was this enough to get him goin’? He shook his head as he pulled his shirt off and threw it in the laundry hamper before turning on the shower.
“How was work, babe?” you asked before bringing a small cup of mouthwash to your lips. Carmy watched as you swished it around your mouth and spit it into the sink. “Carmy?” you asked again; he swallowed. “Yeah, uh, it was good. Busy,” he answered as you hopped up on the counter. You were desperate for adult interaction after being home with the baby all day.
“Mia, have a good day?” Carmy questioned. You nodded, “We did some laundry, then had mashed pears for lunch- she did. I had that leftover pasta sauce you made... Read a couple books and went on a walk... Then did her bedtime routine, and I worked on that stupid documentary I was telling you about.”
As you recounted your day, Carmy nodded, but he was staring at your chest, barely hearing what you said. You’d been wearing one of his old T-shirts. He noticed how prominent your nipples were under the soft, worn-in material. He was captivated by the fullness of your breasts, and he’d do just about anything to touch them again. “Carm, you okay?” you asked, hopping down from the counter; he nodded. “Wanna get in with me?” he asked cocking his head in the direction of the running shower. You giggled, “Maybe next time, bear.”
“Oh fuck-” Carmy grunted as he worked his hand up and down his length. He felt like a teenager again, masturbating in the shower before going to school. However, now, instead of imagining the unrealistic scenarios he’d see in pornos, he had memories of you. Carmy thought back to the last time you’d really touched him. Heavily pregnant, hormonal, begging for his tongue and his cock… he’d expected a shift in your sex life as the two of you adjusted to parenthood, but this long of a dry spell was the last thing he’d expected. Carmy squeezed his eyes closed as he came down the drain.
~
“Good morning, princess.” Carmy cooed as Mia squirmed in her crib, trying to get out of her sleep sack. She spat her pacifier out and let out a gruggle. “So it’s one of those mornings?” he chuckled as he unzipped her. He watched her stretch before carefully picking her up, “See, you’re okay.” he rocked her gently before exiting the nursery and heading downstairs.
You were making coffee and prepping a bottle for Mia as he entered the kitchen. “You’re off today, right?” Carmy nodded in response before handing you Mia. “You goin’ to work?” he questioned, as he got two mugs from the cabinet. You groaned in response, “Jenny called off, so I have to go in. I’ll be back before bedtime.”
“Well, looks like Mia and I are havin' some Daddy-Daughter time,” you smiled as Carmy gently kissed her head before going to get the milk from the fridge. When you’d met Carmy all those years ago at some trendy Chicago bar, you found him incredibly alluring. His disheveled curls, the mix of some musky cologne and cigarette smoke, the way his T-shirt wrapped around his muscular arms… he’d always been… sexy. But watching him interact with Mia was a different kind of attractive.
Carmy drummed his thumbs on the handlebar of the grocery cart. He scanned the shelf before him as Mia happily made her baby noises as she looked around the aisle. “Okay, princess… they don’t have almond extract. What kind of grocery store doesn’t have fuckin’ almond extract.” Mia put her hands out to Carmy, grabbing at the air. Carmy chuckled and ducked to kiss her cheek.
“Oh my gosh, she’s too precious.” a sickly, sweet feminine voice cooed from behind Carmy. He grinned when he turned his attention to her, “How old is she?” she asked. Carmy got a good look at the woman; she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. “Oh, uh, she’s six months,” he answered as the woman stepped closer. She smelled like cheap vanilla and a mix of flowery scents Carmy couldn’t place. Mia glared at the woman, and Carmy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Selena. I’m in this parenting group. You should stop by.” she smiled as she looked him up and down. The attention made Carmy regret not regularly wearing his wedding ring. “I’m not really the par-” Carmy started to say before Selena cut him off. “I’m not takin’ no as an answer. What’s your number?” she handed him her phone.
Carmy didn’t know why he gave her his number- could he blame it on feeling uncomfortable? Was that even the right thing to do? It’s not like he’d ever do anything with this woman. He’d never throw away his marriage to you by hooking up with some woman he met at the grocery store. The reality of Carmy's actions didn’t hit him until he was in the checkout line. He gave his phone number to another woman- was that cheating on you? Did doing that in front of his daughter make him a bad father? “Okay, your total is $63.82.” the cashier smiled. Carmy nodded and swiped his card. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t run into Selena again.
~
It had been a couple of weeks since Carmy’s interaction at the grocery store. He’d noticed Selena’s text messages here and there. They seemed innocent until one Friday night, he was working late, you were home with the baby, and Selena had sent Carmy an explicit picture, hoping it would get his attention.
We’re both parents.
I’m not looking for anything serious, Carmy…
My son is at his Dad’s place
Come over <3
Carmy stared at the messages before his eyes went up to the attached photo. Selena had the hem of her T-shirt between her teeth, showing off her toned stomach. He swallowed as he admired the contrast between her skin and the brightly colored fabric of her lacy underwear. He should block her. He should just delete the messages and block her number. He had a wife and baby at home—he couldn’t make this kind of mistake. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket before returning to the kitchen cleanup, “Hey Carm, I can finish this up. Go home.” Sweeps grinned as he attempted to connect his phone to the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Carmy grinned, “You sure, man?” Sweeps nodded assuringly. “I think I can handle this boss man.”
You heard Carmy walk into the bedroom that night, “Hey babe!” you called as you put your blowdryer in its designated spot by the sink. As the bathroom door swung open, Carmy’s lips were on yours. The initial shock wore off as Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, and his hands pushed under the hem of your sleep shorts to grasp at your ass cheeks. Carmy pulled you closer to him, forcing you onto your tip toes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers delicately tangling in the roots of his hair. The passionate kiss ended when Carmy started to kiss down your jaw. A giggle escaped your mouth as his lips brushed against your earlobe before he nipped at your neck. “Carm-m what got into you?” you croaked as you adjusted your hips against his.
“I need you, baby,” he muttered, lifting you off the floor. You squealed as he crashed down onto your mattress. He hovered above your body, staring into your eyes. “I need to be inside you, baby.” he swallowed hard as you bit your lip. “Carmyyy,” you giggled as you watched him pull his t-shirt off. You ran a finger down his chest, making him moan softly.
“Let me make you feel good, baby…” Carmy whispered in your ear as one of his hands found its way into your oversized sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. " I-I—" you studdered nervously. “Baby…please.” Carmy quietly asked as his lips brushed against yours. “No.” you whispered as you grabbed his wrist through your shirt, “What?” Carmy questioned as he stood up abruptly, “Did I do something? We haven’t done anything in like six months- clearly I did something wrong. Just tell me so I can fix it!” Carmy raised his voice as his eyebrows knit together in frustration.
You propped yourself on your elbows and watched as he picked up his shirt from the floor, “Carmen, please don’t yell at me.” you said calmly. You watched as he rolled his eyes and paced before you, “Baby. I want to have sex with you. I need to have sex with you-” Carmy groaned as he pushed his hands over his face into his hair. Your eyes narrowed, “Carmen. I had a baby-”
“I KNOW! I fucking know! You had my baby, but now you don’t even want to fuckin’ shower with me! I get it- pregnancy was hard, and then giving birth was hard, and now being a mom is hard.” Carmy started staring at the ceiling while he expressed himself. He took a breath and turned to look at you; regret washed over him when he noticed you were on the verge of tears. “Baby, please don’t cry…” he pleaded as he knelt by the bed. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away before he could grab it, “Sorry, I don’t want to fuck you after taking care of your baby all day.” you spat. Carmy closed his eyes and took another breath trying to compose himself before saying something dumb, “How dare I fail to meet my wifely duties.” you angrily laughed as you stood up.
You crossed your arms over your chest and stared as Carmy got up. “Baby, I didn’t—" you cut Carmy off with a groan. “Shut up, Carmen. You don’t get to speak to me like that.”
Carmy sighed and stepped closer to you, as he reached out for your hips only for you to slap his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” you glared at him, “Fuck this.” Carmy muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “What do you mean ‘fuck this’?” you questioned as Carmy exited the bedroom, “I need air.” Carmy called back to you.
You moved to your bedroom window to see Carmy walking toward his car in the driveway. He got in and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket.
Send me your address.
#the bear#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy the bear#carmen berzatto one shot#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x you#carmy smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto angst#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fanfiction#the bear fx#the bear fan ficiton#the bear fic#the bear one shot#the bear imagine
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learning in public
pairing. carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto x female! reader
an. well. what can i say. white boy of the month :/ porn without plot :/ an absolute thirst post of epic proportions :/ the bear is tv at it’s finest and while this is literally filth, i cradle the show like a baby bird and give it sweet kisses. i dont know if anyone is going to read, but if you do, pls comment and reblog if u liked<3 (@ohcapfics for my latest fic updates)
synopsis. you didn’t think he’d enjoy it that much. didn’t think he’d want more, too.
warnings. 18+ ONLY. you copy my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving oral and fingering, semi public sex, hair pulling, spit as lube and mentions of panic attacks.
It’s not often that you find yourself with Carmen between your thighs, but when you do, you figure you should savour it.
Try to, anyway. Try to focus on the sounds, the smells – the sights. But it's difficult because it turns out that he’s incredibly good at it – something you hadn’t expected from your boss.
“Shit,” you breathe, as his tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot. He’s got you propped up on his dirty desk – made a space for you by shoving all of his paperwork onto the floor – then got to work getting your pants off.
He was fuelled by some kind of magnetic force, so fast that it gave you whiplash. Shoved the door closed, then checked in with you before he dragged your underwear down, mumbling something like fucking finally.
You tried to ignore that bit, as there is no God damn way that Carmen – your boss -- has a thing for you.
Right? Definitely not.
You’re both just trying to scratch an itch, even if, at first, this position felt incredibly one-sided. Now, though, you’re fairly certain he’s enjoying it just as much as you as he grabs one of your hands and pushes it into his dirty hair.
“Wherever you want me,” he mumbles against you.
He’s good where he is.
Pretty pink lips dragging across your slit, big nose bumping against your clit – you thought about his nose far too much. Chopping onions, thinking about his nose. Stirring a stock, thinking about his nose.
Thinking about this – this: his knees on the floor and mouth between your legs.
His big, scarred, and tatted hands are keeping your thighs pushed apart, keeping your pussy exposed to him as he drags his tongue over your hole, sliding the flat of it over your clit before swirling it round in controlled, tight circles.
You jolt forward, gasping, trying to clamp your thighs together, but it’s no use. He’s got you locked open for him, locked and secure as you try to squirm from the obscene pressure.
“Jesus Christ, Carmen,” you whisper, scrunching your eyes closed. Wet heat builds across your groin and up your back, pussy clenching, and you try not to think about him fucking you against his desk.
He hums against you, causing vibrations to echo through your belly.
“God,” you whimper, chewing on your bottom lip. Realistically, you can be as loud as you want – it’s midnight. Everybody is long gone, but his office is tiny. Any sound is doubled tenfold.
Carmen drags them out of you, though.
He laps at you, mouth wet and God, you can hear it. Hear him, too, when he darts his tongue over your clit and you sob, tightening your fingers around his hair, causing him to groan.
“'m sorry,” you whisper, thinking you hurt him, your tone pinched and twisted with desire. You don’t really mean it, but it’s no matter, as Carmen’s shaking his head, unintentionally dragging his tongue back and forth. The pressure makes you blind.
“Oh—fuck,” you whimper, arching your hips into it, begging for more.
“There?” you hear him question. You’ve never responded so quickly. “Yeah, shit. Please.”
You feel Carmen smile, and he trails away from you. You have to look down – have to see him – and God, the sight sends you spiralling. Wet, swollen mouth – slick with you – and brilliant blue eyes bright and alive.
His cheeks are pink, and shit, his chin glistens with you, too.
He squints, smirks, and mumbles, “only cause you asked so nicely.”
You breathe a quick smile, “I can be polite.”
Carmen hums, “Sometimes.”
“Mm-hm.”
“When it means getting what you want.”
He’s joking, and it’s making this all the more real, makes you tighten your grip on his hair to get him to shut up, but all Carmen does is groan, smiling through it and chewing on his lip. “Mean,” he hums.
“Sometimes,” you copy.
There’s something wild in his eyes.
Something rooted deep, something you’ve wanted to dig out for a wild now. Carmen’s always been reserved. Hidden within himself, the truth of it spiralling out when you found him clutching his chest one time, trying to catch his breath.
Whoa, hey, breathe, breathe, you’d quickly ordered, and he’d looked at you in a panic – finally caught.
You saw it, then. Saw it when you held his shoulders and made him breathe in deep, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Again and again. His big blue eyes were alive and trusting. He’s giving you them now, but it’s different. There’s the feeling of finality.
No going back now.
He gives your thigh a delicate, chaste kiss. He lingers there, eyes closed, just spreading his kisses over your inner thighs, inching closer to where you want him.
You get lost in it. Zone out and it’s just him, his wet, puffy mouth, and your quiet breathing. It’s his knees scuffing the floor, your fingers loosening in his locks and the clock ticking over 12 am.
Could be the lunchtime rush right now, and you’d still be locked to this very spot.
His kisses are causing something tragic to build in your belly. They’re making you curl a hand around the edge of his desk as you watch him get closer and closer, until finally, his mouth brushes over your folds and he opens his eyes. Smiles.
Fucking smiles and buries his mouth into you again. This time, he savours it. Spreads his wide tongue over your slit, flat and deep, using just enough pressure that you whisper his name, pleading in his small office.
“Carmen,” you breathe, nearly a sob. He smiles, hums, and carries on moving at his leisurely pace. It’s slow and torturous like this.
God damn exquisite, too, as he takes his time. Tastes you, pushes his nose into your cunt and tongues your hole, swirling and fluttering, all sloppy and wet -- causing your skin to heat, making you fidgety again.
You try to close your legs as your hips push into him, and it’s then that Carmen moves a hand, letting you clamp around him, but he tuts in disapproval, growls in annoyance, and uses his elbow to shove your thigh back before you see him spitting into his fingers, and you lose track of where his hand is going before you feel him push his middle finger inside of you, oh so slowly stretching you open.
You see stars.
“Look at that,” he whispers in awe, “taking me so fucking well.”
You gasp, and the tail end twists into a moan when he goes knuckle deep, the sound of your pussy taking him filling the air. “Jesus Christ,” you whine, shaking your head, whispering, “Carmen, my fucking God,” and you hear him curse.
Hear him mumble, make me crazy, until he’s latching his mouth back onto your clit, sucking as he pulls his finger out and slowly pushes it back in, your slick and his spit coating him and dripping onto his desk.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod,” you pant, losing all composure, all grip you have on reality. He maintains his steady pace, but the feel of both his mouth and his fingers forces your muscles to clench, the coil snapping tight.
Got your fingers locked onto his hair, keeping him there – not that he’s going to move.
God, no, Carmen’s into it.
Groaning into your cunt as if this is all for him. Nodding, then shaking his head side to side. It knocks you closer and makes you shove your hand over your mouth to stop from screaming.
You bite down on your knuckles, and your teeth indent your skin. Sob his name into your hand as you grind your pussy into his face, rolling your hips up, trying to chase some sort of friction, something, because shit, you’re dumb with it.
Hands tingling, clenching so tight around his finger that Carmen grins, says, “can feel it, pretty girl,” and you love it so much that you have to say, “Shut up.”
You blanch.
Try to explain, “J-Just—” but Carmen’s not having it.
He glances up at you, and you go dizzy seeing him smiling between your thighs.
“How can I be quiet, when you’re whimpering my name?”
You pout and shake your head, stubborn to the very end, “I’m not—not w-whimpering.”
Carmen smirks, “Maybe it’s me then.”
Yeah, maybe.
Maybe it is, as he sinks his finger in deeper, makes you stupid with his mouth, makes you dizzy and lightheaded and crazy as he speeds up, hits a pace that makes you choke and loose-limbed, makes you grip his hair and sob, “Ohgod, oh fuck, god, god, Carm, right – don’t fucking, please don’t stop,” and he doesn’t.
Keeps on swirling your clit around with his wet tongue, fucking you with his fingers and you clench tight, thighs clamping around his head and God, it hits you quickly -- rushes over you in one disastrous wave that makes you sob and moan his name.
You sob his name as you come over his face.
Stutter your hips up and grind out your orgasm with no sort of care or decorum, lost all sense of restraint when he called you pretty, had said, can feel it pretty girl and you’d been so shocked and turned on that you had to stop it.
Had to because there’s no way this can happen again.
No way.
When you come down, you slowly peel your cramping fingers away from his hair.
Carmen blinks up at you, lost in some sort of daze that he has to sit on the floor and lean back on his hands. You watch him catch his breath. Watch him, as you try and calm yourself down, too.
You’re oversensitive and lethargic, but somehow, you want more. He wipes your slick off of his mouth with the back of his tatted palm and looks at you with these big, waterlogged blue eyes.
You try and read him.
Wait for the inevitable awkward aura to seep in, but it never does as Carmen hoists himself off of the floor and saunters towards you. Never does, because he’s too busy brushing his knuckles under your chin and leaning down to kiss you.
You taste yourself. Taste his spit and you, and God, you hold onto his chef whites for dear life. He drags his lips away and smiles softly, “Let’s get you home.”
You’re distracted.
Been a week and you’re still thinking about it. Chopping vegetables and it’s written all over your face, you know it. Try to ignore the nagging feeling by getting stuck into your work, but he’s at work. Expediting, in his office – the office – cooking, and the worst thing is that it doesn’t seem to be affecting him in the slightest.
He’s his usual distressed self, and you’re sure you’re losing it for some entirely different reason.
So, you say Yes Chef and get on with it.
Put your head down. Only think about it when you’re in bed and you’ve got your hand in your underwear, trying to recreate the feeling from that night. Sobbing into your palm as you remember how much he liked it.
How he basically begged for it, how he groaned when you tugged his hair and laughed when you chastised him.
You overestimate the amount of carrot you have left.
“Shit!” you hiss, dropping the knife onto the chopping board and holding your bleeding finger.
“What is it?” Carmen calls. Of course, it has to be him.
“It’s nothing.”
He’s already bounding across the kitchen.
There’s a worried look on his face when he sees you clutching your red finger. He takes your hands to get a look. You’re unaware of the throbbing – only feeling his warmth.
“Shit, it’s deep,” he comments, flicking his eyes up to yours. It’s been a minute since he’s been this close, but he’s dragging you to the sink before you can savour it.
He holds your hands as he washes the blood off, and holds you with a confident touch, but there’s tenderness there. He cups your hands and squints at your finger, and you silently let him manoeuvre you.
After inspecting every inch of your hand, Carmen concludes that “It’s not as deep as I thought.”
Marcus peers over your shoulder.
“You got the steadiest hand in the kitchen, how’d that happen?”
“Distracted,” you begrudgingly reply. Carmen catches your eyes. That something is back.
“Let’s wrap it up.”
“I can do it.”
“I know – but I’m going to do it anyway.”
He's cleaned up his office.
You’re sitting on his desk again, and the familiarity isn’t lost on you, but Carmen seems to be none the wiser. “Stay still,” he orders, holding your wrist tight while he focuses on cleaning your finger.
“Need to be more careful,” he mumbles.
Rage floods through you.
“Not everyone can be as stoic and emotionless as you.”
“I’m not—” he quickly starts, before shutting up. He huffs and wraps your finger, waiting until the right words come to him.
After a beat, he catches your eye.
“Wanna know why I cleaned this place up?” he asks, and you silently look at him. He gets closer, inches away from you as he whispers.
“Every time I looked at those papers, I imagined pushing them off to make room for you. It’s not that I’m not thinking about it, it’s just that if I do, I’ll become even crazier.”
A small smile tugs at your lips, “Even more? I didn’t think that was possible.”
He shakes his head, and kisses your wrapped finger, “all done. Be careful with knives, they’re sharp and pointy.”
“Thanks, I’ll remember that.”
But before you can leave, he tugs you back. Plants a quick, chaste kiss on your lips and whispers against your lips, “please wait for me, tonight.”
Wordlessly, but with a teasing smile, you pull away, but just as you leave the office, you yell an obedient, “yes chef.”
#carmen berzatto#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#the bear fx#jeremy allen white#jeremy allen white x reader#lip gallagher#lip gallagher x reader#smut#carmen berzatto imagine
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the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|
prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.
my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!
contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3
"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.
The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"
"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"
Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.
"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.
"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.
"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.
"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.
"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.
Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.
Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.
You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."
Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"
"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"
"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.
"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.
"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."
"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.
"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"
"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."
"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.
"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."
"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.
Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.
Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.
"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"
"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."
Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.
Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"
Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"
"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."
"Carmy-"
"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.
Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.
Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"
"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.
"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"
"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"
"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.
Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.
Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.
"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's
"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."
Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."
"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"
Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."
You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"
"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."
"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.
You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."
"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.
"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."
"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.
He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.
You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.
Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#thebearer#the bear#the bear season 2#carmy smut#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear fx#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto blurb#the bear hulu#richie jerimovich
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in a world of boys he’s a gentleman
Despite only dating for six months, it often felt like you and Carmy were on the same wavelength. There were times where you both could communicate what you were thinking with a simple look. He often could tell what you were feeling just by your body language. 99% of the time he was right.
Which is how he knew as soon as you walked through the back door of the Bear that something was wrong.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” He asked you as you started taking your coat off.
“Nothing.”
Carmen grabbed your hands to stop you, “(Y/n), what’s wrong?”
You huffed, “Nothing is wrong, Carmen.”
Carmen. Not Carmy or Bear. Not Babe.
Carmen.
It definitely set off his inner alarm.
“I’m not lettin’ you into that kitchen without you telling me what happened.” He stood his ground. You knew he was being serious.
“There’s this construction worker at the new bakery down the street that tried to catcall me nearby. He’s just an idiot and wouldn’t shut the fuck up.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No, nothing like that. He just didn’t catch the hint that I’m not interested and then called me a “bitch” because I ignored him.”
In that moment, you could see the fury ignite in Camry’s eyes.
“I’ll be right back.” Before you could grab his arm to stop him, he brushed past you and out the back door.
“Richie!” You shouted as you put your coat back on.
It was only a matter of seconds before Richie rushed to you, “What’s goin’ on?”
“Your cousin is about to do something very stupid.” You answered him.
“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that fuckin’ sentence.” He said before leaving out the door with you right on his heels. You could see Carmy was already ahead of you both at the end of the alleyway. He turned to his left and made his way down to the new bakery.
“Carmen!” You shouted as you hurried to try and catch up to him. You knew he wouldn’t stop.
“Yo! Cousin!” Richie ran faster than you did and was closer to Carmy but you hurried as quickly as you could.
As you turned left, you could see that Camry was at the bakery. The construction worker that hit on you was standing outside. He was taller than Carmen but lankier. Thankfully, he was alone.
“Are you the fucker that called my girl a “bitch”?” You heard Carmy ask the man as you caught up to them.
“And if I did?” The guy dropped his clipboard on the ground and stepped up to Carmen.
Richie quickly stood between Carmy and the asshole that started all of this mess. Camry tried to shove Richie away.
In that moment, a million different scenarios ran through your mind. The majority of them didn’t look good. You didn’t want Carmen to get hurt by some dumb idiot that didn’t know how to respect women.
You placed your hand around Carmen’s bicep and tried to pull him towards you, “Carmen, this guy isn’t worth it! Let’s go back to the restaurant.”
Carmen was practically seething at this point. He wished he could’ve had a few minutes alone with the creep to teach him a lesson. He was partially mad at himself because he normally walked with you to work but he needed to be at the restaurant earlier than you that morning.
He was positive that creep wouldn’t have said shit if he’d walked with you.
“Call my girl out of her name again and I’ll fuckin’ smash your head on this cement!”
By now, a couple of the creep’s coworkers came out of the store. They grabbed him and started pulling him back inside. You heard one of them tell him that he was already on his second strike with their boss.
“Cousin! It’s time to go. You better be glad that I was here because that dude would’ve whooped your ass.” Richie tried to joke to made light of the situation.
“Fuck off.” Carmen told him before he grabbed your hand, “Are you okay?”
“You shouldn’t have done that, Carmen.” You mumbled as Richie walked ahead of the two of you. You just wanted to get back to the restaurant and forget about what just happened.
“I wasn’t going to let some idiot disrespect the woman that I love.” Carmen explained to you.
You didn’t say anything else on the short walk to the Bear. Richie was already inside telling everyone what happened. You were positive that you were going to hear about it all day.
“Hey, c’mere.” Carmy grabbed your hand again and led you to the small office. He closed the door after you stepped inside, “Are you mad at me?”
You shook your head, “No, of course not. I just don’t think it was a wise idea for you to confront that guy.”
Carmy walked towards you and cupped your cheek lightly with his right hand, “I don’t care if it wasn’t wise. I’m not going to let any dumb fuck ever call you out of your name.”
You leaned into his touch and he brought his other hand and placed it gently on the back of your head. You rested against his chest. “Thank you, Carmy. My protector.
He felt a little better that you were calling him by his nickname again. Carmy kissed the top of your head, “Anytime, (Y/n).”
You both took a moment to bask in the silence while still embracing. The rest of the day was sure to be filled with the loud noise of the kitchen but the moment between the two of you put you both at ease.
After sharing a few soft and meaningful kisses, you pulled back and sighed a little, “We probably should get out there. I’m sure everyone is wondering what we are doing.”
Carmy reluctantly let you go, “Yeah, let’s go and get the day started.”
You took off your jacket again and set it on the coat hook, “You should get Richie a nice gift.”
“What? Why would I do that?” Carmy asked confused.
“Because that guy would’ve beat the shit out of you.” You joked.
Carmy cracked a smile as he gave you a tap on your behind, “Is that so?”
You nodded playfully, “Absolutely. I probably should be thanking Richie right now instead of you. Actually, I think I’ll go do that now.”
Carmen quickly grabbed you by the waist and drew you closer to him again as you laughed, “Well aren’t you hilarious.”
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you#the bear x reader#the bear imagine#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto
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Pity Party.
Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader
Word Count - 3k
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.
"You're back early."
Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.
"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.
"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.
"You wouldn't even believe."
He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.
Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.
"You wanna talk about it?"
You think for a moment before replying.
"You're gonna laugh at me."
His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.
"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."
He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.
"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"
"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.
"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"
"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."
He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.
"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."
"I'll hold you to that."
You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.
"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."
"And then?"
"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."
He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Tell me more."
"You really want to hear about all of this?"
It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.
"Of course I do."
His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.
"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."
Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.
"What the fuck?"
You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.
"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"
"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."
Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.
All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.
"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."
Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.
"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."
You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.
"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."
Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
"Wh-... what?" you choke out.
"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."
His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.
"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.
Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.
"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."
His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.
"Okay."
He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."
"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."
"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."
He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.
"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.
"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"
You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.
"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."
"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."
He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.
"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."
"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."
Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.
Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.
Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.
"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.
Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.
"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.
You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.
"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."
He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.
"Give me a color, pretty girl."
You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.
"Green, Carmen. Promise."
You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.
You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.
"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."
"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.
He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.
"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."
Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.
Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.
"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."
His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.
Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.
"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."
With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.
"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"
You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.
Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.
After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.
"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"
You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.
Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.
He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.
"Doin' so good for me."
"You got it, honey, that's it."
"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."
"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."
"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."
All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.
"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."
You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.
"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"
The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.
"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."
"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.
"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."
You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.
"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."
Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.
Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.
"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.
"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.
You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.
"I know you didn't mean it."
"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"
"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."
You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.
You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.
"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."
"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.
"Come on, trouble."
He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.
The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.
#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x reader smut#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto smut#roommate!carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto x reader smut#the bear x reader#roommate!carmen berzatto x reader#the bear fanfic#jeremy allen white#the bear smut#the bear imagine#roommate!carmy berzatto#roommate!carmen berzatto smut#roommate carmen berzatto#the bear fanfiction#the bear
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hi! could you write carmy berzatto x fem!reader where she’s in her early 20s (not too crazy age gap) and reader is sud’s friend and he just has a crush on her ???? like i just want lovesick carmen so badly 😭
pls and thank u
a/n: sure thing, one lovesick carmy coming right up! (honestly, I was never sure how old carmy was supposed to be. but in my mind he was always somewhere around like 26-28??) also, sorry I hope you don't mind this ended up being in bullet point format, it was just easiest for me to write it that way - though I hope you enjoy!!
oOoOo
“Yo, who’s the new girl?” Richie called out as he watched you walk in behind Syd, pulling everyone's attention towards you.
"This is y/n." Sydney introduced. "She's been my friend for years, and she's offered to help us the restaurant. For free, might I add. So be nice." she finished, staring directly at Richie who simply raised his hands in surrender as a response.
You quietly giggled at the interaction, catching Carmen's attention as he stood in the back, waiting to come forward and introduce himself. He felt frozen in place, watching your smile, the way your eyes scanned the under-construction building with wonder, and the way you were ready to jump in and help.
It had been quite a while since Carmen felt his heart skip the way it did when he looked at you, and he clammed up, ready to turn back and introduce himself later. After he had hours to agonize over what he would say to you.
Unfortunately, fate - or Sydney- had other plans as his business partner steered you into Carmen's path. "And this is the man responsible for all of this chaos." Sydney teased.
"It's nice to meet you, Chef." you smiled gently, reaching out your hand in greeting.
"Oh, no, uh, I mean Carmen." he stuttered out, mentally slapping himself. "What I meant was you don't have to call me Chef, you can just call me Carmen, or Carmy. Really whatever you prefer." he rambled, trying to ignore the way you hand fit so perfectly in his.
"Got it, Chef Carmen Carmy." you giggled, enjoying the slight blush that dusted his cheeks.
And in that moment, Carmy knew he was a goner.
Though you weren't at The Bear every day, Carmy would constantly look towards the door when you weren't there, hoping that each jingle of the bell meant that it was you gracing him with your presence.
The days that you were there, though? Carmy found himself an absolute mess in your presence. Stuttering and stumbling all his words and laughing louder than necessary at any joke you cracked.
But Carmy could also be a little smoother when it came to interacting with you. He quickly learned your coffee (or tea) order and always tried to have it waiting for you when it stopped to get himself one.
But, of course, Carmy tries to get to know you most through food.
"Would you mind trying this dish? Thinking about putting it on the menu." Carmy would ask anytime he made something new for the Bear, you being only the second person to try it (behind Syd).
Carmy would also learn your favorite foods and offer to make it if you had been at The Bear too long and Carmen knew you hadn't eaten.
"Oh, you didn't need to do that, Carmy."
"Really it's no problem, it's the least I can do in exchange for all your help." he'd say, bashfully running a hand through his hair.
Richie, noticing the exchange would call out, "Hey, Cousin, can I get some of that too?" only to get Carmy's middle finger as a response.
Of course, none of this was one-sided and you regularly flirted back with Carmen while helping out. It was just he took it as you being too nice, not believing he had a shot with you - much to your disappointment and everyone else at The Bear.
"Cousin, you gonna ask her out or what?" Richie would finally ask one evening when it was just the two of them left at the restaurant.
"What are you talking about?" Carmen would ask, eyes furrowed, heart beating just a bit faster.
Richie's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "W-what am I talking about? You've been pining over y/n for months, and she's been throwing you all sorts of signals back.
"S-she has?" Carmy asked, voice quiet, though slowly growing excited.
"Yes!" Richie would shout, before walking away, mumbling a "you're hopeless" under his breath.
The next time Carmy saw you, he had made up his mind he was going to ask you out. Even if it just meant the two of you spending some time at the restaurant without everyone else.
He walked up to you talking to Sydney and asked if he could talk to you in the kitchen, alone.
"So, um, I probably should have asked you this weeks ago, but uh, do you maybe want to, I don't know, go out with me?" he rushed out, biting his lip, trying not to run away in fear.
There was a moment of silence before you beamed up at Carmy, nodding your head excitedly. "It's about time, Chef Carmen Carmy." you teased, kissing his cheek before heading back out to Syd, leaving Carmen a smiling, blushing mess.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear fx imagine#rita writes
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sunshine baby // c. berzatto
pre-fatherhood dad!carm, loosely inspired by the fact it's so hot in australia that it regularly feels like i'm sweating my eyeballs out of my head <3 enjoy!
- clarke xx
(warnings: mildy suggestive content, pregnancy. fem!reader, use of fem pronouns.)
The temperatures in the past week had sky-rocketed, leaving you sweating with even the slightest amount of movement, and that wasn’t taking into account the hot flashes that came with pregnancy. At least the air-conditioning unit hadn’t given up yet, though it rattled ominously every hour-or-so. Whenever it happened, you’d glance at it, expecting it to blow up or break down. But it never did.
Until this afternoon, when you’d just gotten comfortable on the couch, ready to watch some television. The unit had spluttered and hummed, trying its very hardest to work, but eventually let out a long, stuttering creak and fell silent.
You sighed, briefly wanting to sit on the floor and cry. Instead, you dragged yourself to your closet, picked out a simple t-shirt dress, and pulled on some sandals. Braving the heat armed with your sunglasses, keys, and a sudden desire for the world's largest iced latte, you hopped in the car and headed for the nearest drive-thru. While you waited in line, car idling, you thought of Carmy.
He’d left the apartment at five, as he usually did on Friday’s to over-prep for what was usually a particularly chaotic lunch rush, and you’d mumbled a sleepy goodbye, cradling your small bump tenderly. If you’d opened your eyes, you would’ve seen him linger in the doorway, a soft smile on his face.
The bell above the door announced your arrival as you swept into The Bear, balancing two cardboard trays of iced lattes.
Now, in the drive-thru, your hand rested on your stomach, and you smiled as you felt soft kicks against your palm.
-
“You alright?”
“Coffee’s up,” you called as you stepped into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding Richie storming by in a tuxedo, megaphone in hand. Some things never changed.
“Cousin! Can you watch where you’re fuckin’ goin’, please?!” There was Carmy, his hand on your hip, as he shouted across the kitchen at Richie, who was already out in the back alley, not hearing a word.
“Yeah,” you nodded, setting the coffee down on an empty section of the counter. “The AC broke at home, and I wanted something cold, and then I thought of you, and wanted to see you.”
“Fuck, the AC broke? I’ll get Fak onto it this afternoon.” Carmy cupped your chin, kissing you gently, a stark contrast to the urgency with which he ran his kitchen. “Stay here a while? I’ll make you somethin’, yeah?”
“Okay, Bear, thank you.”
“Nat’s in her office, she’s got the best AC. I’ll bring you a plate soon.”
He kissed you again, a little harder this time, and lingered a little longer than he should’ve. His hands skimmed your stomach, drifted to your waist, holding you against him. To anybody else, it’d just look like a moment of tenderness. But to you… Damn him, he did it on purpose. He knew your hormones were fucking whacked out. And from the look on his face as he pulled away, the subtle smirk, the little glimmer in his eye…
“Mean,” you muttered as he walked away, but you were smiling. That smile only grew as you stepped into Nat’s office, relishing in the fresh wave of cold air that enveloped you instantly. With a sigh, you sat down on the grey couch against the wall, clean fabric soft against your fingertips. You groaned in appreciation, sinking into the cushions.
“Hi, sweetie,” Nat said, smiling. “Comfy enough?”
You hummed, grabbing one of the throw pillows and hugging it to your chest. “I think I dream of this couch sometimes.”
Nat nodded along, knowing exactly how you felt, having spent many hours on the same couch when she, too, had been pregnant. “I’ve just got some paperwork to do, honey, but just let me know if you need anything, okay?”
A dim light filled the room, emanating from the lamp on Nat’s desk, but Nat was nowhere to be found. Blinking sleepily, you rubbed your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbow, wincing at the slight pain in your lower back.
You nodded, adjusting yourself so you were propped up a little better. Fak came in, delivering the coffee you'd brought, and you hadn’t realised until that moment that you’d forgotten all about them. Sighing at your brief lapse in memory, you sipped your iced latte and closed your eyes.
-
“There’s my girl,” Carmy whispered from where he sat at the opposite end of the couch, his hand resting protectively on your calf. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“What time is it?” Stifling a yawn, you lifted yourself up, back resting against the end of the couch.
“Just past one, baby.”
“One in the morning?”
“Mhmm.”
You groaned, letting your head fall back. “You should’ve woke me up, Carm. We need to go home, you need sleep, too. God knows we won’t get any in five months' time.”
Carmy shook his head, sliding his hands up your shins, rubbing softly, soothingly. He moved to hover over you, resting his forehead against your own. The soft press of his lips was enough to shut you up.
“It’s Saturday, sweetheart, I don’t have to come in until after midday. I just wanted you to get your rest.”
You kissed him back, cupping his jaw in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the light smattering of stubble. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“S’okay, baby.” he murmured, peppering your face with kisses. One on your forehead, two on the tip of your nose, one on each cheek. And he descended, pressing a particularly delicate one to the side of your neck, just below your jaw. One against the tender spot beneath your ear.
“Carm,” you whimpered, and part of you was embarrassed at how easily he’d set you alight.
He persisted, sliding his knee between your legs, the fabric of your simple dress riding up with the movement. His hands found their way beneath, skimming up your sides, fingertips brushing over your cotton bra. You arched up, already breathless at the slightest touch.
Carmy pulled back, and the way his messy curls fell in front of his face, shadowing his eyes, the way his chest heaved through the tight fabric of his white shirt… It made you want to take back everything you’d just said. To hell with morals.
“So sensitive,” he mused, the reverberation of his words against your skin like the low bassline of some song you’d never heard.
“Carmy,” you whispered, not wanting the moment to end, but knowing it had to. “Carm, baby, I’m not having sex on your sister’s couch.”
“Yeah, no, yeah. You’re right, that would be weird. Disrespectful and stuff.” He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. You couldn’t help but laugh, gazing up at him with a soft smile.
“God you’re pretty,” you muttered, propping yourself up on your elbows. Carmy climbed off the couch, taking your hands as you reached out for him, a faint blush staining his cheeks.
“Is that right?”
“Mhmm,” you nodded sleepily, kissing his lips once, twice. “Let’s go home.”
Carmy rubbed your back as he led you out of the restaurant to his car, placing a gentle hand on your stomach as he reached over and secured the seatbelt over your lap. After pressing a kiss to your temple, he shut the door and walked around the hood of the car, running his hand over the cool metal.
The drive home was quiet, accented by the quiet hum of the radio as the city lights flashed by, streets and alleys rolling by. When he finally turned onto the home stretch, you sighed, eyelids heavy.
Yawning, you leaned on him a little as he let himself into the apartment, the jingle of the keys echoing down the entry hall. And so began the nightly dance of winding down together. Carmy started the shower, adjusting the water to the perfect temperature, while you headed to the bedroom and grabbed pyjamas, turning down the covers on your way back. Your fingers threaded in his hair, massaging shampoo into the roots, while his hands rested on your waist.
You drew hearts and stars on the foggy mirror as Carmy finished off, spending an extra minute under cold water. He towelled off your legs so you didn’t have to bend down, despite your argument that your belly wasn’t too big yet and that you could manage just fine.
“Doesn’t matter, I like doin’ it.”
And finally, once you’d brushed your teeth and made sure the door was locked, you climbed into bed. Carmy pulled you into his side, making sure you were comfortable, careful not to put any pressure on your stomach.
The moonlight filtered through the crack in the curtains, and you lifted your hand, letting your fingertips drift through the silvery glow. Carmy slid his hand into yours, holding it to his chest, and you could feel the steady thump of his heart against your knuckles.
“Sleep, baby,” he murmured against the top of your head, pressing a kiss there. And because he asked so nicely, you did as he said.
#the bear#the bear fx#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#jeremy allen white#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#dad!carm#dad!carmen berzatto#carmy x you#carmen x you#carmy berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto fanfiction
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