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springtyme · 3 months

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51 ✨ for carmy 🐻

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐀𝐭 𝐀 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 ♡

Thank you for the request anon, I hope you like it! 💕

Carmen Berzatto x reader || Carmy playlist || Main masterlist

51: “I can’t live without you.” for the 1k follower celebration. The strain of Carmy's new responsibilities at The Beef has taken a toll on your relationship, leaving you worried and questioning your place in his life. And you're scared, but not for the reason Carmy thinks.

Angst (with a happy ending). Hurt/comfort. Mention of what happened to Michael.

word count: 2.1k

You stand in the dimly lit hallway of your apartment, anxiously tapping your foot against the worn floorboards. It’s late, much later than Carmen had told you he would be home. The clock on the wall mocks you with its ticking, each second feeling like an eternity.

Your relationship with Carmen has been strained lately, the weight of his responsibilities after taking over The Beef after Micheal’s death has taken a toll on both of you.

You and Carmen had met in New York, about two years ago, when he had moved into the apartment next to yours. You had not looked for a relationship and neither had Carmen, but it was like fate had kept pushing the two of you together.

It had just started out with a few chance encounters in the hallway or at the local grocery store, with him stumbling slightly over his words as he asked you about your day or offered to carry your groceries.

But it had been a power outage which had left the whole building in darkness that really had brought you together. You had fumbled your way out in the hallway to figure out if it was just your apartment that had lost power or if it was the whole building. And that’s when you had bumped into Carmen, literally. His strong arms had wrapped around you instinctually, preventing you from falling on your ass.

You had candles in your apartment, unlike Carmen so you had invited him in to share the light and wait for the power to be restored. As the hours passed, you two ended up talking and getting to know each other better. It was a simple yet intimate evening, and from that moment on, you felt a connection that you couldn’t ignore and a sweet friendship had blossomed between you.

He didn’t have much time off, literally working at one of the best restaurants in the world, but the moments you did spend together were cherished, and it hadn’t taken long before your connection had grown even stronger, evolving into something more than just friendship and eventually blossoming into a real and deep relationship.

You had not hesitated to say yes to move back to Chicago with him after his brother had passed away.

You never got to meet Michael, Carmen didn’t really speak to him through all the time you dated, you've never fully understood what had happened between them, but you have a feeling that Carmen didn't really knew it either, and he has never really liked talking about his family in general, but you do know that he loved Michael a lot.

You had tried to convince him to go to the funeral, telling him that you would be there for him, but he had kept shooting the idea down. He kept excusing it by saying that he couldn’t, his contract at the French Laundromat hadn’t expired yet, and despite that being true, you had a feeling that going to the funeral would make the loss of his brother feel all the more real, and that was something he wasn’t ready for.

You also had the feeling that he didn’t want to see his mother, at least not in that setting, so you had just decided that you would let him grieve in his own way, and just be there for him in whatever way he needed you to.

It had been the same you had done with his job after all.

You know that he had loved his job in New York, in his own fucked up way. It was a messed up, down right toxic, work environment, and it had hurt to see him come home every night, tired to the bone, both physically and emotionally drained, yet he kept doing it. His ineffable love for the culinary arts that just couldn’t be extinguished kept him going. It is just after you moved to Chicago a month ago that he told you that he would throw up every morning before work.

It crushed you to hear that Carmen was suffering silently, but you understood why he continued to push through. The restaurant industry was demanding and competitive, and Carmen was determined to prove himself. You had hoped that the move to Chicago would bring some relief, a fresh start away from the toxicity of his previous job. However, the weight of his responsibilities at The Beef seemed to have only deepened the strain on your relationship.

You love him, and you want to be there for him, no matter what. But the constant absence and distance have started to make you question where you stand in his life. But most of all you’re just sad that he is sad, or really it's more that you're sad that he is in a situation that should make him sad, it's like he doesn’t even really allow himself to be sad, and that really hurts to watch.

You try to push away those negative thoughts, you try yo remind yourself that Carmen is just going through a difficult time, but that just makes the worried feeling in the pit of your stomach feel even heavier.

As the front door finally creaks open, your heart skips a beat. Carmen steps inside, his weary eyes meeting yours. The exhaustion etched on his face is painfully evident, and your worry intensifies, yet you're just so happy to see him. As he slides off his jacket his white t-shirt comes into view, it’s stained with sauces and his hands bear the marks of countless hours spent in the kitchen, but it’s the weariness in his eyes that tears at your heart.

“Hey,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse from lack of rest. “Why are you still up?

You muster a small smile, trying to hide your concern. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admit softly, stepping closer to him. “I was worried about you. You said you’d be home earlier.”

Carmen sighs heavily, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I know, I’m sorry, it was just... things got really busy tonight.”

You nod, biting your lip to hold back the words that threaten to spill out. You want to scream at him, not from a place of anger, but frustration, to make him understand that his health is more important than any sandwich on the menu. But you also know that he pours everything he got into the restaurant.

“I’m just worried about you, Carmy,” you finally manage to say, your voice tinged with both frustration and concern. “You work yourself to the bone, and it’s taking a toll on you. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know, but there is not much I can do about it, okay. I’m sorry for putting you through this. But I can’t just abandon the restaurant. If I don’t fix it Jimmy’s gonna sell it and turn it into a fucking Applebee’s.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you take a step closer to him. “I get that, Carm. I do. But you need to take care of yourself too. It hurts seeing you like this.”

Carmen looks at you, his tired eyes searching your face. There’s a mix of frustration and resignation in his gaze, as if he knows you’re right but doesn’t know how to change the situation. The weight of his responsibilities seems to visibly crush him, and it breaks your heart.

“I know, I know,” Carmen says, his voice tinged with defeat. “But it’s not that simple. The Beef is struggling, and I need to turn it around. I can’t just walk away.”

Your frustration builds, and you can’t help but argue back. “I understand that, Carmy, but you also can’t sacrifice your well-being for the sake of this restaurant. There has to be a way to find a balance, to take care of yourself too.”

“I know I need to take care of myself, and I don’t want to keep putting you through this,” his voice taking on a more frustrating tone, he isn’t yelling, but there’s an edge to it. “But I just... I don’t know how to do that right now, okay”

The tone of his voice makes you pause for a moment, he has never talked to you like that before and you can’t help but slightly flinch. You know that he is just frustrated but it still makes you feel a deep pang of hurt. It’s not that you’re scared or anything, you know that he would never ever hurt you, you’re just sad that it has come to this.

But seeing you flinch clearly affects Carmen, his frustrated expression softening, turning into an expression of guilt and regret instead.

You swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure before saying what you need to say. “I love you, Carmen, and I want you to be happy. But I can’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself in the process.” you’re taking a deep breath before continuing, “you’re scaring me.”

Carmen’s gaze meets yours, the expression in his eyes breaking your heart. “I never wanted to scare you. And I-I would never hurt you.”

This makes your heart break even more, yes you had flinched at his tone of voice, but not because you in any way had thought he would physically hurt you, never. The thing you’re scared of is that he’ll end up hurting himself…

You reach out to take Carmen’s hand, wanting to assure him that you understand his intentions, but also wanting to convey the depth of your concern.

“I’m not scared you’ll hurt me, Carm. I know you’d never do that. I’m scared you’ll hurt yourself.” Tears are now streaming down your cheeks, your voice trembling as you’re about to unveil your biggest fear in all of this. “I just don’t want you to end up like Micheal, okay… I was scared that the reason you didn’t come home was because you had blown your brains out on a bridge somewhere.”

Carmen’s eyes widen at your words, a mixture of shock and pain flashing across his face.

He reaches out to gently wipe away your tears, his touch warm and comforting. “I’m not going to end up like Michael,” he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. “I promise you, I could never do that to you.”

You hold onto his hand tightly, desperately seeking reassurance. “But Carmy, you’re pushing yourself so hard. You’re not taking care of yourself, and it scares me. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t live without you.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you as if he never wants to let go. “You don’t have to, I promise you.” His voice cracks with emotion, and you can feel his tears dampening your shoulder.

You hold onto him just as tightly, your heart breaking for the pain he’s been carrying alone and you’re just so happy that he is finally letting himself cry.

Carmen pulls away slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of gratitude and determination. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m so grateful to have you by my side.”

You smile through your tears, relieved to see him opening up and acknowledging the need for change. “We’ll figure it out together. We’ll find a way to make things work.”

“Yeah, we will,” he nods, before continuing. “I… I actually started going to Al-Anon, I go three times a week.”

You’re taken aback by Carmen’s revelation, but also immensely proud of him for taking this step. You gently squeeze his hand, your love for him growing with each passing moment. “That’s amazing, Carm,” you say softly. “For how long?”

“I started going two weeks ago, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything earlier,” he admits, a hint of shame in his voice. “I guess I just needed to take it in my own tempo.”

You shake your head, wiping away your remaining tears. “It’s okay, Carm, I’m just so glad you’re looking out for yourself.”

Carmen takes a deep breath, his gaze filled with renewed determination. “I really don’t deserve you, thank you for not giving up on me, even when I pushed you away. I love you so much, and I promise I’ll find a way to make this work.”

You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling a sense of hope and unity. “I love you too, Carmy. And yeah, we’ll face this together, one step at a time.”

Thank you for reading! ♡ this is my first time writing for Carmy and I had such a blast writing for him, but I also was a little intimidated by this piece, so please let me know what you thought ♡

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thatone-brightstar · 1 year

Text

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Bear meet Fox

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Out of everyone in the vast city of Chicago, Carmen was glad it was you who stumbled into his rundown restaurant.

a/n: I'm too in love with this man to not write about him, so I'm contributing to our shared obsession with my silly little ficcc.

Also reader is Latina in this and yes it's partially self indulgence.

You couldn't believe you were about to do it.

Not due to excitement but mostly dread, and a bit of self loathing, that the lowest point in your life had brought you here of all places in the city. Might as well call it point Nemo because there was no way you could get any further away.

Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you kept your eyes still on the rundown building across the deserted street, afraid it would dissipate and take with it your only chance of employment in a 200 mile radius. The phone screen lit up with the last message from your brother a few days ago and you wanted to punch him square in the face at the way he worded his stupid attempt at “helping” you find a job.

‘So you stop moping around the house cuz its getting pathetic’

Read the text under a picture of a ‘HELP WANTED’ sign, poorly taped to the inside of a surprisingly clean window, stark contrast to the grimy brick that surrounded it. A second text had also been left on read, with a maps link to the location where you stood, balancing on your feet out of nerves. You contemplated your options, as if you had any; turn around, head home and lay in bed until you withered and died of misery. God, your brother was right, you were getting pathetic.

You took a very deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then blew it out into the cold surroundings. ‘You can do it. It’s just another interview, you've done those before. More in the past month than your whole life sure, but who cares? This is the good one.’ You tried psyching yourself up. It could always be worse, you remembered, though lately it seemed more true everyday.

You forced your feet to move from their petrified state and walked towards the building, made sure that the sign was the same one your brother sent, then stood with an outstretched hand about to pull the door open when a voice coming from the left side of the building called your attention.

“Yo, sweetheart! We open at noon!” A man wearing gray joggers and an over washed shirt stood with his head peeking against the corner of the building. If it weren’t for the apron tied around his waist, you’d assume he’s some stranger sticking his nose in other people’s business, but with the bags under his eyes and the cigarette hanging from his mouth, you recognized the trademark of a tired restaurant worker.

“I’m here for the help wanted ad?” You said more like a question, raising a manila folder and shaking it so he could see that you weren’t there for sandwiches, or whatever it was they sold.

“Why?” He asked skeptically, scanning you from head to toe and taking a drag from his cigarette without using his hands. Show off.

You couldn’t come up with an answer on the spot, out of nervousness and intimidation, so you chose to shrug. You could have said you needed the job or literally anything else, but that answer seemed to be enough for him. The guy took another drag then gestured with his head for you to follow him around the corner. With a doubtful turn to the glass door, you moved to the left and followed the man into the parking spot between buildings where, you hoped, another entrance to the restaurant would be waiting for you.

You moved slowly over the gravel, making your way deeper into the empty space. A breath you didn’t know you were holding left your lips at the sight of a long metal door opened ajar, with the man finishing his cig keeping it from closing. He made a circular impatient motion with his hand while staring at you and that was enough for you to quicken your pace towards him.

“Hurry up babe, we ain’t got all day” He said with a loud voice despite being less than three feet away. “C’mon, I’ll see if I can find my asshole cousin. He’s the one who put that stupid sign up anyway.”

You fully entered the building and were immediately welcomed by the familiar scent of roasted meats and sauteed vegetables, the buzz of old vent pipes and the scraping of metal pans against the burners slightly numbed the anxiety growing in your stomach. This was familiar, this you knew. Down to the Bachata beat playing somewhere inside from an overworked radio and the blinding white lights reflecting off the even whiter tiled walls.

The man seemed to have disappeared somewhere past the kitchen, leaving you stranded in the middle of the Steward station with nothing but a half assed ‘wait here’. You clutched your folder containing your resumé near your chest and tried to make yourself as small as it was possible in the already tiny space, so as to not interfere with anyone who were to pass by in a hurry. It felt like minutes had passed and the guy had not returned. You tried to keep yourself entertained by counting the stained steel pots hanging from the hooks above the sinks, then moved to count the beat up escoffier containers that rested on the rack in front of you. When that was done, you checked your surroundings in search of someone else to help you, as the asshole had been gone for some time and it didn’t seem like he’d be back soon.

About to give up hope and ready to push the exit door, you hear a loud ‘Corner!’ headed your way and turned just in time to see a mountain of pots and pans being carried to the sinks by a faceless body. His head was turned to the other side, probably doing his best to keep an eye on the path ahead. You tried to say something but the words were stuck in your throat, so instead you stepped back out of his way and waited until he dropped the cookware. The faceless person dropped everything inside with a loud bang, then rested his arms against the metal edge, sighed and let his head hang low. From your position, scooted by the door in silence, you waited expectantly for him to turn around so you could say something; maybe explaining why you’re there would be a good way to start. But it took him some time to move. All you saw is the flexing of strained muscle on his arms as he gripped the sink like a lifeline. The movement of his tensed back as he breathed under the thin white shirt he wore brought a warmth to your cheeks and you knew you’re starting to be creepy so you forced yourself to talk.

“Hi-” Is all you get to say before he jumped back startled, wide blue eyes with a wild expression and a hand clutching over his blue apron where his heart was.

“Jesus fuck! Don’t fuckin’ do that!” He shouted at you with a hand raking through his hair.

“Sorry!” You yelled back. Your heartbeat pounded in your throat and ears and the warmth from a few seconds ago had turned scorching hot over all your skin.

He leaned forward and rested his hands over his knees trying to calm his pulse, then chuckled lightly and regained his composure. “No no you’re good, I-uh I didn’t mean to yell like that but you scared the shit outta me.”

He passed his hand over his face then left it over his mouth, contemplating you for a solid minute. He looked over at you unsure of what to say as you stood holding your folder to your chest and balancing on your feet.

“Right… so'' He leaned against the sink. “Who are you?”

“Yeah sorry, I saw you were asking for help up front and wanted to see if it was still available.” You said pointing to where you assumed was front of house. In the small space, you couldn’t really make out the layout of the place. “Some asshole guy let me in but then left me here.”

“Fuckin’ Richie” He says under his breath. “Yeah, yeah it still is. You got any papers on you?”

You hand him the folder you had been clutching to your chest. He looked at you one last time then opened it to find your wrinkled resume inside. While he analyzed the information you peeked another look at him. Ashy blond hair framed a strong jaw and nose. He had a broad back and strong arms, likely from all the physical effort it took to work in a kitchen, and even though he took up some space, it seemed like he tried to shrink into himself. The pale skin on his arms was littered with designs that you couldn’t make out from the distance, but you could see the hyper pigmentation of a few scars.

“Oven?” You ask, pointing to a small angry red mark across his forearm.

“What? Oh fuuuck.” He said as he turned his arm. “That’s the first time I see it, honestly.”

You laughed lightly under your breath, before he turned to you with a small smile.

“C’mon.” He guided you out the Steward section and you assumed he’d take you to whoever was in charge of the place.

Your nerves had settled due to the familiar ambiance, as he conducted you through the different sections where a few cooks turned curiously, then settled by the expo that stood tall facing the small window opening into the dining area.

“Mind if we check it here? The office is a shit hole right now.” He looked down at you with expectant eyes.

You swallowed dryly, you weren’t expecting him to be the one in charge. Does that mean you were checking out your future boss? Fuck. You nodded, afraid to trust your own voice. He nodded back then looked at the worn out paper.

“You have a pretty cool resume.” He started. “You’ve been all over the place. Hostess, service, line cook. Private chef for two years, where was that?”

“Uhm, some rich folks up in Lincoln Park. Just dinner and meal prep.” You said as nonchalant as possible.

“Well listen, I don’t think I can pay you as well as they did.” He joked. “We’re not that big of a place and in all honesty, business’ a little tight right now.”

And there it was, the last rejection you were expecting. You looked down at your hands and did your best to calm the bile climbing up your throat.

“But we could really use the help, so maybe I can offer you to help out up front and once we’re back on our feet, you can move back here. The pay’s not the best and the hours are crazy long but it’s just in the meantime.” He stayed quiet waiting for an answer.

Your head snapped up to look at him after the first half, still surprised it wasn’t a rejection. You didn’t notice you had been quietly staring until he raised his brows expectantly.

“Wait, so that means I’m hired?” You questioned, still cautious.

“Yeah, you think you can start today?”

“Yes, yes thank you so much!” You cleared your throat to hide the too obvious excitement. “Yeah, I’ll just need a place to drop off my things.”

“Great, well we gave Sydney our last empty locker, but you can keep your bag in the office. It’s pretty safe.” He pointed to a closet sized door to the left and asked you to follow him while he explained that family was served before opening and that he’d introduce everyone then.

After dropping your bag inside the dimly lit room, that was indeed a shit hole, he guided you back to the kitchen, then through a white door that pushed into the front of house. You saw the asshole leaning against the long counter separated from the tables, telling a very engaging story to a shorter man in a backwards cap who appeared to just want to finish fixing a broken tap. When the door slammed behind you, they both turned towards you and the chef, who you had yet to know the name of. The taller of the two’s eyes grew in realization and his hand flew to his mouth in a fist to try and hide his laugh.

“Shiiit, my bad doll. I swear I went lookin’ for ‘em but fuckin’ Fak here couldn’t keep his pipe shut and started talking!” He said, using the back of his other hand to slap at the chest of the other man who turned offended to him.

“I didn’t say shit! You came running to me talkin’ about the pretty girl you had in the bac-”

“Both of you shut the fuck up and listen” The man behind you interrupted impatient, he placed his hand lightly on your lower back and pushed you further into the room. The placement of his hand did nothing to subside the growing shade of pink in your cheeks from the comment. “This is… shit sorry, I never asked your name.” He turned to you, hand still on your back.

A quiet ‘it’s okay’ left your lips and you introduced yourself to the group of men. The chef repeated your name to himself as a way of memorizing it, then spoke back to the group.

“Richie, she’ll be helping you up front.”

“Fuck you, I’m not babysitting!” He turns to you. “No offense sweetheart, but this,” He said signaling the bar, “is a one man symphony, okay? I can’t have you screwing with my system.”

You did your best not to roll your eyes at him, because of course you expected him to be defensive about it. Enough experience in the service industry had shown you that older people tended to be quite resistant towards change, especially if the change came in the form of barely 5’3 and female. Sure you were young, you had barely graduated culinary school two years ago during the pandemic, but you had been working since your third year so you were more than familiar with the business.

“Well you have a shitty system.” Said Fak under his breath as he finished unscrewing something.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Richie said, offended.

“I’m just saying man, you could use the help. I saw you jump at a customer the other day cause he was asking for ketchup.”

“Cause only idiots ask for ketchup with a sandwich!” He threw his hands in the air and turned his back to Fak.

“He was ten!” He shouted back.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue! Richie, you imbecile, take the help cause you need it and stop jumping on people before you catch a case, all right?!” He turned to you, rubbed your back with his hand still there and smiled slightly. “You’ll do great.” He says finally before turning to Richie and pointing up at him while walking back. “Don’t fuckin’ scare her off.”

And he was gone out the door. Richie made a gesture with both his hands pushing from under his chin to where the chef had disappeared then turned to you. He stayed silent, one hand on the bar and another on his hips as he stared at you in intimidation. You held his gaze, not cowarring now that you knew he wasn’t going to murder you. An ‘Aha!’ from Fak brought him back and he slapped his hand on the bar.

“Alright c'mon. I’m gonna need you to organize back here while I sweep around the tables. We open at 12 so we got enough time. Got it? ” He finished.

You salute with your right hand, rolled up your sleeves and walked behind the bar to start working on the task. “Yes, chef.” You mumbled out of habit.

“Nah, don’t fuckin’ start with that ‘chef’ thing with me, I’m already up to my balls with Carmy sayin’ it all the time.” He replied exasperated.

“Fine. Yes, asshole. Whatever.” You respond, rolling your eyes and starting to take things out from the fridge at the bottom of the counter.

You heard a snicker from Fak a few feet away, followed by a smacking sound and an ‘Ow! Fuck you!’ before Richie’s sneakers squeaked away into the other room. What you didn’t see was the small smirk on his face as he started walking away. You had balls, he’d give you that.

You powered through the absolute rat’s nest the bottom of the counter was. An empty jar of pickles, two moldy sausages and a single slab of cheese without the wrapper were only a couple of things you found while trying to clean the mess. You took anything useless and dumped it into a black trash bag Fak was nice enough to get you, before showing you where they kept all the cleaning supplies so you weren’t in the dark. It took you two trips to the supply shelf, a sponge, a rag and half a bottle of dish soap to ultimately get rid of the stale grease that gave the impression to have been there since the opening of the place. Once you were satisfied with the way you organized the station, you moved to scrub the top of all the counters and even give a little swipe with the rag on all the stools.

You had baby hairs sticking to your forehead and cheeks by the time you were done, even your jacket had been discarded and thrown under the now clean bar, but a satisfied smile rested on your face despite all that. God, you really missed working. You finally took some time to admire all the framed pictures littering the surrounding walls. Most were of sports players you weren’t familiar with; one, because you really weren’t a fan of any sport, and two, because the pictures looked so old that most of the specific features had been erased from too much exposure to the sun. There were also football jerseys hanging by a corner near the unlit menu and a big ‘Beef Deli’ sign on the wall behind you. You saw a couple cooks moving around behind the window under the sign and a little knot formed in your stomach at the thought of having to introduce yourself in a while.

You checked your wristwatch on your left hand while you wiped the sweat from your forehead with your right, hoping you still had some time to kill. But before you could look down, a voice by the door called your name. You looked up to see the chef, Carmy you had learned his name was, looking at you with a small smile.

“Front of house looks good, chef.” He complemented, clear blue eyes scanning the counters as he leaned against the door, hands playing with a spoon.

You took a deep breath and smiled back, holding onto your wrists behind your back, “Thanks, chef. I-uhm hope you don’t mind that I took some Fabuloso to wipe down the counter by the window. It smelled like shit.” You finish, pointing at the purple liquid in the spray bottle beside you.

“Yeah, no that’s fine.” He answers, a small laugh stuck in his throat. “But that was actually Tina’s so don’t let her see you used it.”

Your mouth opened slightly as your eyes grew, and you were afraid to ask how bad it would be if she found out. He straightened up with a smirk and tapped his spoon twice on the metal counter before signaling for you to follow him with his head.

“C’mon, family’s up.”

You turned on your heel to follow him into the other room, but jogged back, jumped over the counter high enough to slap the spray bottle with sufficient force for it to fall and roll under the counter. You did not know Tina, but you were sure as hell you also didn’t want to get your shit rocked on your first day on the job.

You tried tidying up your hair back into a less messy ponytail and combed all the stray baby hairs before entering the adjacent room where the other workers were getting ready for family. Some faces stared from their seats, questioning the presence of the stranger invading their space. A few you had met on the rush while taking the garbage bags out or crossing the kitchen to the supply shelf. Marcus, the pastry chef, waved with a simple smile and pointed to an empty space beside him. The simple action brought a wave of relief over your shoulders as you advanced towards him, hands interlocked in nerves. You mumbled a ‘Thanks.’ and served yourself a glass of water from the pitcher in front of you.

Once everyone was sitting with a container of food in front, the chef introduced you to the table and let everyone know you’d be helping out up front with the service and that if they had any questions, they could ask you directly. The first one to jump at the opportunity was an older man with dark skin, asking you in a thick accent if you were related to Tina. There was a burst of laughter around the table, but he seemed to be serious about his question.

“Ebra, not all latinos are related you racist fucker.” Responded a small woman sitting beside him with a slap to his arm. Okay, so that’s Tina, you thought. “That’s like me saying you and Marcus are related cause you’re both black.” She finished pointing at the tall man sitting beside you.

“We are related.” Ebra responded with a teasing smile, staring at Marcus and you immediately knew where this was going. “I am his grandfather- his mom called me daddy last night!”

Another roar of laughter shattered along the table and you had to stick a spoonful of rice in your mouth to hide your smile. You heard a ‘C’mon man, that’s not right.’ from Marcus as he shook his head, but the creeping grin let you know that it was all in fun. The conversation flowed between comments on the food and stories they all recounted, glad to have a fresh pair of ears to hear them.

One of Richie’s was from a few weeks ago, when they had set up a video game tournament at the restaurant to make some extra cash and the nerds in line had gone so bat shit crazy, that one punched Carmy on the jaw and he had to go out and ‘beat their asses into shape’. You slowly swallowed the bite you had taken and stared at Richie sitting at the end by Carmy.

“Was he dressed like a giant carrot… By any chance?” You ask mortified.

“No shit! You know the fucker?!” He yelled, slamming his hands on the table. Everyone turned to you like you were holding a new piece to a worthy puzzle.

You covered your face with your hands then crossed them in front of your chin. “Yeah… I think that fucker’s my 19 year old brother.” You affirmed scrunching your face in disgust. Fuckin’ Joshua.

The table went wild with jokes about how Carmy had almost gotten knocked out by a teen and through the hysterics you could still make out Richie’s voice saying “Oh my god, sweetheart. Thank you, really. You just made my WEEK!” All you could do was pick around your container as heat crept up your neck.

You peered up through your lashes at Carmen sitting with a mortifying look and mouthed a heartfelt ‘Sorry’ for what felt like the tenth time that day. He was leaning back with his arms crossed, smiled with an ‘it’s okay’ and let everyone take a jab with their jokes. You looked back down to your food and did your best to drown out the teasing noises from everyone, but were unaware of how the chef raised his brows and swallowed dryly with his gaze still on you.

After minutes of teasing, everyone picked up their empty dishes and separated into their areas. You stayed in the dining room wiping down the tables that were left to clean before opening service and a couple of ideas came to mind on how you could decorate them to reduce the depressing feeling. At least for now, napkins and holders would do, the rest would have to wait. You power walked to the front where you remembered seeing a packet that looked to be from napkins, but once you reached inside all you found were a bunch of wrinkled brown pieces of paper.

“Richie!” You yelled from your crouched position.

“Yo!” He yelled back, head popping above you over the counter.

“I can’t seem to find any napkins.” You spoke while still searching hopefully in the space.

“You’re holdin’ em.” He stated, matter-of-factly.

You stand fully and shake the supposed napkins in front of you. “Richie, these are stained and say Starbucks on em!”

His grin grew wide on his face as he walked back with extended arms. “Welcome to The Beef, kid!” He laughed, then leaned down to unlock the glass door where you could already see some people forming a line.

You quickly dropped the napkins, grabbed the blue half apron you had been given and tied it around your waist as fast as possible. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A fuckin’ heads up would’ve been nice, you thought as you plastered on a soft smile for the clients.

“Alright, fuckos! We’re open!” He shouted into the restaurant and wiggled his brows towards you. “Goodluck.”

Fuck.

*****

He was worried for you for the first fifteen minutes after opening. Afraid you’d see the mess you had stumbled upon or that his idiot cousin would say something that would have you grabbing your bag and leaving without as much as a goodbye. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, he would’ve even done the same if his name wasn’t in the lease now instead of his brother’s.

He stopped worrying however, when he saw the way you managed yourself around the floor and customers. Empty plates were picked up with ease and replaced with warm ones that spent less than five minutes on the counter, the orders were taken within minutes and served with a kind smile. He was even surprised when you walked away from the other side of the expo with three plated sandwiches balancing in one hand and a forth plate in the other.

“Can you manage, chef?” He even asked when he saw you trying to find the perfect space between your fingers that could balance the plate, your lip caught in concentration.

You looked at him with your head still bowed and a breathy smile. “Yeah, thanks.” Then turned your back to deliver the dishes.

It wasn’t his intention for his gaze to linger longer than it did as your hips swayed naturally with every step, or when despite the hectic sound of the kitchen he could still hear you laugh politely at a joke from one of their regulars. But it was only until Syd elbowed him in the side that he noticed he was being a bit creepy. Jesus, it’s like your 14 again, he thought.

“You’re worried Richie’s gonna scare her off but you’re the one giving me the creeps with all the staring.” She said after reading the printed ticket for another order.

“Heard, chef.” Was all he said, cleared his throat and went back to work, doing his best not to look up every time you walked to receive a new order.

It was only when the lunch rush died down and he was in desperate need of a cigarette, that he saw you sitting down with your head resting against the cold bricks of the adjacent building and eyes closed peacefully. He didn’t want to bother you, but he also didn’t want to waste the opportunity of telling you how well you had done in the first half of the day. Besides, the heavy door behind him slammed closed and startled you slightly, so there was no going back now.

“Hey.” You smiled softly, stretching your arms above your head and your legs straight forward, then relaxed altogether.

“You smoke?” Carmy asked, offering you a cig as he sat on the empty crate a few feet away from you, elbows resting on his knees.

You shook your head no, but thanked him anyway. “I quit a few months ago.” You said just as he flicked his lighter on and the tip grew bright orange.

“Shit, sorry. If it bothers you I can turn it off.” He offered. He wanted to say ‘I can go somewhere else’ but he didn’t want to give you the idea that he didn’t wanna be there.

You shook your head no again still smiling and pulled one of your legs to your chest, turning to him. “So…” You asked curious. “How’d I do for my first half?”

Carmy chuckled lightly as he exhaled smoke into the air. He turned to you from his crouched position and for the fifth time that day, he took a good look at your face. Jesus fuck, how could someone as beautiful as you end up in his dump of all places? Despite your overworked expression and a few small bags beneath your eyes, he was sure he had never seen anyone’s face glow with such brightness as yours did now. His eyes danced around your face, taking in every single freckle he could before he tore them away after what to him felt like an eternity of staring- no- admiring your features.

“You did way better than I expected. Truly, chef. Thank you.” He whispered and, despite the noisy Chicago surroundings, you heard every word.

Your smile beamed brighter for what felt like the first time in months and the fist that had been constricting your heart for a while now seemed to give you some much needed space to breathe.

Carmy finished his cigarette in comfortable silence, now laying back against the cold brick wall that helped ease the rising temperature in his body, while you played with the aquamarine ring on your pointer finger that reminded you too much of the chef’s specific shade of blue eyes.

“What’s Carmy short for?” You asked all of a sudden, pulling him out of his internal thoughts.

It took him a couple of seconds to process the question, then smiled down to the gravel under his feet. “Uhm- it’s short for Carmen. It’s a family name. " He responded.

“Oh.” Was all you said, nodding your head. “It's nice. I have a cousin named Carmen.” You continue with a smile on your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning down towards you, only to see you stand up and clean off the dust from the back of your black jeans and readjust the apron around your waist.

You stood with your hands on your hips and stared down at him for another second before smiling and making your way to the tall door. “Yeah, but she’s a girl.” You reply without turning back and push your way into the restaurant, leaving the chef with a snickering grin and a lightheaded feeling he wished wasn’t just from the nicotine.

Chapter 2.

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sunflowersteves · 10 months

Text

carmen berzatto x reader

carmy comes home one night to see that you’ve made dinner. he smiles and is so warmed up by the idea but it’s so shit. like we’re talking scraping off the plate and even the dog won’t eat it, type of bad. you throw the food away, exasperated, and beg him to make grilled cheeses.

he just has the biggest smile ever, despite how many times you tell him you’ve ruined the meal. he doesn’t give a shit. all he gives a shit about is the fact that you cared.

carmy comes home the next night and expects the same routine that’s been going on for months. you try and make some food. it’s hella burnt. he makes really good food. it tastes so fucking could you could die on the spot then and there.

it makes him smile on his walk home.

but tonight was different. tonight, he found you sitting with a bunch of brushes and paint scattered all around you. he can’t quite see what you’re painting so he places his jacket on the hook by the door and walks over to you.

he has to immediately stop in his tracks though. like tires screeching on asphalt. there you were, biting your lip in concentration, and painting him.

you got the curve of his nose. you got the curly hair just perfect. you got the sharpness of his jaw. you got the expressions in his eyes. you’ve got the blue jacket he wears on his way to work. you’ve got everything.

all he could do was stare in utter awe. he looks over to your phone on the easel and he sees a picture of him. it was one that you had taken without him knowing. his eyes were crinkled and his smile was bright.

it was one of your favorites and you couldn’t get it out of your head. all you could think about was that sparkle in his eye and how he seemed so elated in this one snap shot. so, you got out all of your paints and let your hand do all the work.

and wow, carmy just stared. he’s not sure how long, but it’s long. once he gets out of his head, he just tackles you to the ground and is showering you in kisses. so. many. kisses. he doesn’t even care about dinner at this point. fuck dinner.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear headcanon #the bear fic

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sageispunk · 4 months

Text

Might Be (18+)

author's note: okay this is my first time doing headcannons ngl just freestyling, don't judge me pls <3 (pic from pinterest)

🍃 Dealer Richie Jerimovich x reader HC (?)

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! talk of drugs (🍃), paraphernalia, age gap (reader is around 22-24, richie is in 40s), richie is kind of a shitty texter but its ok, reader is said to be about a foot shorter than richie (i see him as like 6'5 tbh), nervous richie, sort of shy reader, allusion to smoking, dirty dream/dirty talk from dream richie, petnames 'mama' and 'baby' are used, proofread a couple times but prob not enough (sorry for any errors), there will probably be more of these!, title is based on the Anderson paak song :)

You met Richie shortly after you moved to Chicago to complete your masters

You stole his number from a native fling who’d bought from Richie plenty of times

When you first texted, he thought you were a narc

is this richie?

--read 9:17pm

30 minutes later… hello?

Whos asking

friend of tyler amato? he said you were his guy

Wat do u need

just 🍃

Send ur address

(mind you, minimum wait time for a richie text response is 10-15min)

He waited for you outside your apartment, expecting a guy and half expecting it to be a rat

When you came out, he was still looking at his phone, but you walked over, his name falling from your lips much softer than he expected

You’d never met Richie when Tyler picked up, but he always said he was a tall guy--you weren’t expecting him to be a whole foot taller than you though

“Tyler’s friend?” You nodded, trying not to stare too hard at his icy blue eyes as they scanned across your body, more observational than sexual

Normally, you would've tried to hide some part of yourself when you noticed you’re being looked at so closely, but you felt oddly comfortable

That, plus you were just wearing a hoodie and a pair a leggings with some fuzzy slippers so there wasn't much to hide

You observed him too, his lanky form and how it towered over your own, and the way his eyebrows seemed to be stuck in a state of confusion–furrowed and wrinkled– and the way he only wore a matching black adidas tracksuit in the 40 degree weather

You quickly swapped the cash and paraphernalia, shaking your head ‘no’ when he asked if you needed any wraps

“Nope, ‘ve got my piece upstairs”

You said a quick thanks, trying not to be too awkward (you’ve never really had to buy your own stuff before)

“Hey! Um, never got your name before..”

He sounded nervous, it made you smirk a little

You told him your name and he nodded, repeating it back to you as you stood there, mid-turn and eye contact strong

It seemed like he had something else to say, so you lingered for half a second, and then his phone began to ring

“Gotta..” He held the phone up for a quick second

“See ya.” You cut him off, nodding and turning back around into your building

That night, you got really h1gh with your roomie, giggling about the hot older guys on your favorite drama show

Later on, you dreamt about the one you just met earlier that night, his pretty blue eyes on yours as he spoke, talking you through it

“Just like that, mama…. c’mon baby give it t’me..”

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie the bear #the bear #the bear x reader #the bear x you #richie jerimovich x you #the bear headcanon #the bear hulu #richie jerimovich headcanon #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich fanfiction #my writing #headcanons #sageispunk

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cloudy-em · 8 months

Text

Luca x Reader - cam girl SMUT

warnings: 18+, fem!reader, lingerie, dirty talk, online sex, toys, sub!reader, mild voyeurism, masturbation, light sir & chef kink

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

When Luca first discovered Y/N's cam page, he closed his laptop and pushed it away. She was his coworker, the saucier, and he wasn't sure he could face her in the kitchen if he jerked his dick to her videos. But he couldn't help the way his cock throbbed more in his pants. He had always found her quite attractive, and she would never even know if he had watched her videos or not.

So, he opened his laptop again, tugging down his pants and boxers, and clicking on her first video.

She wore a dark red lingerie set, the lace hiding her breasts and mound from view.

"I've waited all day to see you," Y/N's voice purred through the tiny laptop speakers. "I'm so needy without you, d'you wanna see?" Luca found himself whispering a "yes" in response, knowing fully well she couldn't hear him. But she began to strip on the screen, her tits on full display. Luca's cock strained, and he teased the head, wishing he could play with those beautiful tits, worship them with his mouth. He watched in awe as she stripped the panties as well, her soft pussy visibly wet and a cute red jewel tucked tightly into her ass. He watched as she grabbed the dildo from off screen running the length up her cunt to collect her wetness.

She spread her legs for the camera to view, and Luca could only focus on what it would be like to eat her for hours, keeping that beautiful cunt wet 24/7 for his use.

"Ah," her voice echoed through his bedroom. "You're so big, sir!" He watched her tight pussy struggle to take the dildo at first, having to work it into herself. Luca thought about destroying her with his size, her pussy would gush just to try and take his whole cock. She'd feel it in her stomach while he fucked her, moaning nothing but his name. On the screen, she thrusted the dildo in her cunt.

"Oh fuck, please sir, please cum inside me!" she begged over and over again. "Cum inside my pussy please!" Luca tugged his dick harder, growling aloud in his empty apartment, promising to fill her hungry pussy with his load. He imager her calling him chef instead of sir, and he only felt his cock get harder. He released on his hand, jerking himself beyond his orgasm.

He felt dirty masturbating to his coworker, but he couldn't help but feel it might've been the best orgasm of his life.

Thus began his ritualistic masturbation to her videos every evening after leaving the restaurant.

xxxxxxxxx

part 2???

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 6 months

Text

Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 3

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: With Carmy receiving Mikey's goodbye letter and you coming to understand the dire financial state of the restaurant, emotions are flying high. The nightmare doesn't let up until Carmy stumbles upon a fuck ton of money which leads him to ask you a very important question.

Warnings: Suicide mention, anxiety, cursing, alcohol.

A/n: This took way longer than I originally planned. This chapter is a long one and there's a lot of emotions. I wanted to make sure I did it right. I'm really enjoying writing this series and honestly I could write about Carmy all day, everyday! I've got big plans coming for this story so let me know if you want me to start a tag list. Please let me know what you think! Any interaction is super helpful for me :)

If you haven't read, here's: Chapter 1 and Chapter 2

Enjoy!

It's Tuesday, and you're very aware of the days slipping through your fingers. When booking your flights, you thought two weeks would be too long but thought it wouldn't be bad to have some left over time to check out Chicago. Now that you're here, you were worried you weren't going to have enough time to go through everything with Carmy before heading back.

You arrive at the restaurant at 9 am to see Carmy already here and the others starting to filter in. As per usual, Marcus has been in since 7am, exploring the world of dessert making.

You take a sip from your hot coffee before reaching over for the leatherbound book on the other end of the desk. You've only flipped through it lightly not seeing anything that would be any importance. But you decided to have a deeper look to see if you're missing anything.

You open it and start scanning it. Each page consisted of a list of numbers with no order or description. Some of them crossed out, other not. The further you studied it, the more confused you got.

Was this the way Mikey was keeping track of this debts? You thought to yourself resting your forehead on your hand as you continued to flick through the pages.

"Carmy" you called out seeing him walk past the office.

He paused and leaned into the doorway, his hair more chaotic than usual.

"Uhh.. you a'ight?" You checking in on him noticing his messy state.

"Y-yeah, good, Why?" He questioned.

You shook your head slightly, remembering the actual reason why you stopped him.

"I'm going through Mikey's notebooks and seeing if there's any notes he may written down, and I stumbled on KBL electric, ring any bells?" You asked moving the book closer to him.

He leans down and furrowed his brows, pausing for a moment. His arm resting on the back of the chair you're sitting on.

"Uhh.." He raised his eyebrows.

His eyes continued to stare at the notebook like his mind was searching for the connection. You noticed his curls sticking up awkwardly and smiled to yourself.

"No...no idea" He eventually said.

You paused for a moment before flicking a couple of pages and point your finger to the same words but with $300,000 scribbled underneath.

"This?" You asked again.

He shook his head and stood up. He had no clue what that was about. Mikey was known for not being clear, but this was a joke at this stage. He made a mental note on how important bookkeeping was going to be when this place got sorted. He was not going to go through this nightmare again.

"Mornin'" Richie yawned strolling by, sporting an original beef zipped hoodie.

"Cousin" Carmy called at him, making him take a few steps back.

You glance up at him and noticed the tiredness still clinging to his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Carmy gestured to the desk looking over at him.

Richie readjusted the strap on his shoulder of his bag and took a step forward. He leaned in, bringing his eyes to the page.

"KBL electric" He said to himself, thinking.

"Fuck if I know" He flickered his eyes and gave a shrug before continuing his way to his locker.

Carmy brought his hand to his forehead, pushing his hair back. He let out deep exhale, continuing to look at the writing in the book.

"Look, maybe I'll come across something else that might give us a hint." You said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

"I'll let you know if I see anything else." You brought your eyes back down to the book.

"Sounds good." Carmy stayed there for a beat before going back into the kitchen.

Time goes by, you have no idea how long it been. You hear a light cough and look up to see Marcus.

"Shit!" You gasped to yourself, completely startled.

"Fuck Marcus, a little warning? Maybe a knock?" You said putting your hand on your chest, feeling your racing heart.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He smiled looking down at you.

You brought your eyes down to see him holding a freshly made donut covered in icing sugar. He placed the plate on the desk.

"This looks.. unreal" You grinned picking up the donut glancing up at him.

"Yeah, well... I thought if I was gonna to really start nailing this down, I needed to learn the classics first." Marcus licked his lips, waiting for me to take my first bite.

You take a bite, a big one, making sure you get some of the filling. The dough is fresh and pulls away so delicately. Once you get a couple of chews in, the filling hits your tongue. The sweetest jam awakens your tastebuds. You raise your eyebrows out of pure instinct of how unexpectedly delicious it is. You pull away the donut and look at it to see the rich red filling oozes out of the donut. You bring your finger up to it to catch it before any of it drips off.

"Mhhmm...Dahhmmn Marcus." You called out with your mouth half full with donut.

He instantly beams, shining that big bright smile at you.

"Good?" He asked, angling his head.

"Fuck yeah, way better than good!" You complimented.

You lean in for another bite and stop.

"I can have the rest of this, right?" You double-checked looking up at him.

He nodded, chuffed with himself that he could get someone to react to his baking that way. With Syd and Carmy being critical about his previous attempts, he lacked the little bit of confidence.

You take another bite and enjoy the perks of being around a training prodigy of a pastry chef.

"Mmhh you show..mhh Syd... yet?" You asked with a mouthful of donut.

"Not yet.. I don't think I'm there yet. " He shook his head, putting his hands on his beanie.

"Marcus! Nah, I'm changing that." You swallowed and put the half ate donut back on the plate.

"Syd! Sy-" You yelled out leaning out the doorway over his shoulder.

"No, no- needa still fix-" Marcus put up his hands, trying to block the doorway. It didn't take a second before the swinging door opened.

"Yea?" She popped her head out, wondering what the commotion was.

"You gotta try this!" You said excitedly, glancing up at Marcus.

The grin was gone off his face and replaced with a slightly nervous one. You gave a slight apologetic one back, not wanting him to hate you after this. You reached for the donut handing the plate to Syd at the door way.

As she took a bite, you looked over to Marcus, who had his lips pressed into a fine line.

You both watched her, waiting for her reaction. She took a bite and chewed. After a few seconds, her eyebrows shot up, and she continued to feel the donut's texture between her two fingers, as she was eating it.

"Marcus, this is the shit." She looked up finally giving a big smile before giving him a playful punch in the arm.

The tension from Marcus shoulders melted away. He brought his hands up to his head and took a deep breath, a smile appeared on his face.

Marcus was still new to all of this and wanted to learn as much as possible. He didn't want to get too carried away though. From time to time he felt overwhelmed with all the guidance he would get from Carmy and Syd. He wouldn't know how to use that knowledge to make his recipes better. They were already so established in the flavors they liked. He was only starting to understand the basics.

"I have one recommendation, though." Syd sucked her lip in, still tasting the donut on her lips.

"Yeah, of course." Marcus looked at her eagerly, waiting for her response.

"The filling might be a little too sweet." She explained, dipping her fingertip in the red ooze that had spilled onto the plate and bringing it up to her mouth.

"Okay, that's fair" He agreed.

"Do you still have some of it left?" She asked

Marcus nodded looking at her.

"Here, let me show you something." She turns around heading to the kitchen with Marcus following her.

"Marcus!" You called him making him glance back at you.

"I think it was perfect" You grinned mocking a chefs kiss

"Heard" He chuckled, heading to the kitchen.

Before you know it, it's already Wednesday. You can tell that fatigue is catching. You wake up at 10:30am, sleeping through two of your alarms. You groaned out of bed still feeling like you need another six hours before it even makes a dent in your exhaustion. You unlock your phone to a text from Carmy.

Need to talk bills, let me know when you're in.

You check the time of the message. 6:30am

You get to the restaurant at noon and to say things were hectic, was an understatement. You popped your head into the kitchen to hear Carmy yelling orders more frantically than normal. No one saying a word. You noticed the line of tickets stacked up and thought maybe you would wait a bit for it to calm down.

You head to the office to see Richie on the chair scrolling on his phone.

"Mornin' sweetheart" He glanced up.

"What happened?" You asked taking your coat off.

"Sydney fucked up. That's what happenin'. Cousin blew his fuckin' head, told Syd to get the fuck out. Keep away if I was you" He got up and stretched.

"Gotta go back out now and fuckin' deal with this train wreck, fuck me." He groaned rubbing his face.

"Good luck with that," you grinned sitting down on the warmed up chair.

"Gonna need it." He mumbled, making his way back to the front.

You heard the door open and Carmy voice bellowed with anger before the door closed again and it was muffled.

Carmy stabbed the last ticket on the stack of paper and looked up at the clock. It was the fastest four hours that went by. The relief that overcame him knowing that they got through that catastrophe.

"Housekeeping chefs" He announced wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

"Yes Chef" They replied as the start to clean up the mess around them.

He made his way to the office to see you sitting there.

"Wha-"

"Don't ask" He stated in the doorway pushing back his hair with both hands.

"Okay" You said taken aback by the bluntness.

He watched you for a moment. You had various bills in front of you. All with the dooming "overdue" print on it.

It was moments like this that he wished he could just walk out. The feeling of drowning in anxiety was unbearable. He didn't have the energy to fight it. He thought about just shutting the place down. Just accept defeat. Try and move on, maybe walk away from cooking for a beat. He would leave Chicago and not tell anyone. Just get away from everything for a couple of months. If he was honest with himself, he didn't even know if that's what he needed. He's been neglecting his needs for so long he didn't know what he actually wanted from life anymore.

You looked up at him after minutes of silence. He wasn't present anymore. He was completely dissociated. You did say anything. You continued to look at the money flow, the account book you put together last week.

"Sorry, I was-" He rubbed his eyes, waking himself up from the negative thoughts.

"Just so fuckin' tired" He mumbled taking another couple of steps in.

You clicked your pen a couple of times thinking about how to phrase the news you had.

"So...What's up?" He asked bringing his full attention to you.

He felt your hesitation.

"That bad huh?" He breathed out.

You looked up to see his face was red and his eyes tired. His hair was wet with sweat.

"Y-Yeah, it is" you pressed your lips together.

You pointed the end of the pen to the electric bill.

"You only have enough money to cover electric bill or your produce order." You said straight out.

"Fffuck," He said quietly, looking down at the bill.

"When does the electric bill have to be paid?" He asked

"In 4 days"

Carmy head dropped, his eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. He wasn't even sure if this nightmare was real anymore. He didn't think anymore shit could get more fucked.

"Carmy"

He brought his eyes to you.

"Let me help," you started, knowing he wasn't going to like what was going to come out of your mouth.

"Let me cover this bill, just so-"

"No fuckin' way. No. " He raised his hand, stopping you in your tracks.

"Bu-"

"Stop, not happenin'." He snapped.

He glared into you, not wanting you to say another word about your ideas.

He couldn't even fathom the idea of you pumping your own money into the place. He's not even paying you. What type of owner would he be - or even a friend? It was bad enough that he had to sell his own sentimental belongings just to have meat to work with for the next day.

"I'll figure somethin' out," he stated.

He sat down at the bench between the lockers. He rested his arms on his thigh, bent over with his head in his hands. Today was.... he couldn't even think of a word. Every time he thinks this place can't go anywhere, it hits a different rock bottom. It's been in his possession for 3 weeks. It'll be closed in the next three if something doesn't change.

He felt a body sit beside him on the bench and gave a side eye. Richie sat next to him. Richie was the last person he needed to talk to right now. He couldn't deal with his bullshit.

Richie leaned over behind the locker and picked up a white envelope before sitting back on the bench. There was a beat of silence between them.

If there was ever a time where Richie felt would be the right moment to give Carmy this. It would be now. He looked over to see Carmy completely defeated and exhausted. Since arriving here, Carmy has put all his energy into this place, and it has fucked him every way possible.

Richie felt relief when Carmy arrived one morning on his doorstep. After the funeral, Richie had chaos released on him. Mikey's family asked when Carmy would come back to take over the restaurant. Sugar trying to contact both of them, to grasp any information on what was happening. Richie didn't know anything and now had to handle taking over the place with no idea what to do. To see Carmy in front of him, he had never been happier seeing him than that day.

Carmy looked over, his face change from fed up to anxious instantly, noticing what was in Richie's hand. Carmy recognized the writing and felt his heart pick up. The writing scrawled on the front with a black ink.

To Carmy,

From Mikey.

Carmy hesitantly took it off of him, not lifting his stare from it.

"What is this?" He asked concerned, looking at Richie.

Richie gestured his hands. He didn't know what to say.

"I don't know," he murmured.

Carmy eyes flickered between the envelope and Richie, not understanding what was happening.

"Richie, wh-what the fuck is this?" Carmy spoke up, grasping the envelope with a firmer grip.

"I don't know..." Richie shook his head gently.

"...And I didn't really want to give it to you 'cause.... it meant he was gone. Um, but, uh..." He broke off, feeling his stomach churn.

Carmy looked at him, feeling pain in his chest. He watched Richie, seeing the grief cascade over his face and realize he wasn't the only one going through this. Carmy placed his hand on Richie leg, Richie brought his arm to Carmy's back and for that moment, they both felt the devastation of Mikey presence finally gone. They sat there for a while before Richie got up, giving Carmy the space he needed.

It ran through Carmy's mind if he should even open the letter. Was it worth the wound that was going to be torn up with reading it. He didn't know if he was going to have the strength to continue today.

He needed to go elsewhere. No fucking way was he having the chance of anyone catching him in this sorry state. He made his way to a side alley next to the building. The cold air hitting his red hot skin making it feel like it was on fire. His heart was thumping. He got on his honkers and stared at it.

Maybe, he should wait til' he's home tonight?

Fuck it, he thought to himself.

He stared at it, in his shaky hands, before taking a deep inhale.

"Stupid" He whispered to himself not wanting to make a big deal out of this.

Even though this was going to be the last contact he was going to have with his brother. It was final. Mikey had the last say. After all the time of Carmy thinking Mikey left him nothing. Somehow, this felt worse because he knew for certain Mikey had this all planned. It made it more real than just hearing about it from people's mouths.

Carmy bit his lip, his feelings whelming up inside, finally it was hitting him.

He flipped it over and start ripping it open quickly.

There it was. Two small sentences in the center of the page.

I love you dude.

Let it rip

His eyes ran over the words again and again. Hearing Mikey voice in his head. Carmy choked back tears, bringing his hand up to his face, his eyes never leaving the words. The lump in his throat became unbearable. He felt his body start to tremble. The pain in his chest became stronger to the point that he held his breath to ease the strain.

After a moment, he took a breath in, feeling agony wash over him.

"Fuck you.. fuck you" He sniffled.

He knew it was going to hit him. It did. This scrap of paper made all the feelings he have been brewing since getting the phone call finally come up.

He took deep breaths and looked up. He focused on trying not to lose it completely. The wave of grief over swept him like he was drowning. The tightness in his chest constricting and releasing.

He flipped over the piece of paper and saw the family's spaghetti recipe wrote on the back. No instructions, just the ingredients. A small smile crept up on his face.

After a few minutes of steady breathing, he pulled himself together. He put the letter into the envelope and shoved it in his pocket.

He went back into the kitchen to see everyone prepping. He noticed Richie's eyes following him as he weaved through the station.

"You a'ight?" Richie whispered, coming up behind him.

Carmy nodded before reaching up for a 28oz can of tomato sauce.

"I'm.. gonna make spaghetti. I need to clear my head for a bit, " he mumbled, bringing it to the countertop.

"Uhh.. okay" Richie hesitated before giving a worried look to Tina.

She shrugged her shoulders making her way to the walk-in.

Carmy knew prep needed to get done but he just needed sometime to turn off his thoughts and get lost in cooking without thinking about it. He wanted his body to go into autopilot.

He added the garlic cloves to the pot and poured in an eye measurement of oil, clicking on the gas ring until a flame emitted on the surface. In another pan, he had half onions getting fried in butter. As they sizzled away, he leaned over to grab a can opener and opened one of the cans before dumping the contents with the onion.

He saw hints of green mixed with the tomatoes and shoved it around to see it was a lump of something. He grabbed it and wiped away the remaining sauce surrounding it.

"There's no fuckin' way" He said to himself tearing off the clear wrapping on the suspicious looking bundle of money. The hundred dollar number facing back at him, he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Cousin!" He urgently yelled not taking his eyes off the hundred dollar notes in his hand.

"Yo!"

"HELP" He shouted back coming to the realization of what might be happening.

You heard the racket from the office, hoping it wasn't another meltdown situation. As you entered the kitchen you saw everyone walk past your with cans and cans of tomatoes.

"Get you ass to work, Chica," Tina grinned.

"What?" You asked, completely confused about what was going on.

"Money." She beamed before continuing her way.

You went to where the cans where stored to see Richie stacking them on a metal tray.

"You're not gonna fuckin' believe this" He snickered.

That evening Carmy gave you the run down of what he thought Mikey did. He showed you the KBL on the lid of the unsuspicious can of tomato sauce. The hint that you were looking for was right into front of you the whole time. Everyone walked past those cans 50 times a day, not blinking an eye. Hidden in plain sight.

For the rest of the evening, everyone got plenty of practice on their can opening skills. Tomato sauce was everywhere. Everyone emptying the cans and pulling out bundles of money. Richie was tallying it up with his calculator. Syd came to join us, completely unaware of the jacket pot that landed on all of you during the day. Carmy spoke to her about what the money could do for them. For the restaurant, and with that, she was reeled it.

Everyone was at an all time high with the sudden change in events, Carmy decided that service wasn't happening for the rest of the day. He knew everyone needed one night of blowing off steam for, hopefully, the new chapter ahead that he had in his mind.

"How many should I get?" You asked dialing the number on the office phone.

"Uh... 10?" Carmy suggested, scratching back of his head.

You order several types of Chicago deep dish pizzas with excited muffled voices in the other room.

You hung up the phone after making the order and looked over at Carmy who was still standing there, dissociated or exhausted or maybe both.

"Well we finally got the hint" You smiled putting the phone back on the desk.

He snapped out of his trance.

"Oh yea, you could say that" He gave a little smile.

You could both hear the happy chatter over in the next room with Richie's booming voice echoing the most.

"My sister, Suga, is coming over."

"Oh that's great"

In the time you were working with Carmy, he would only really bring up Sugar. You knew Mikey existed but Sugar's name came up the most in conversation. You would also see him get phone calls from her time to time.

Richie went to collect the pizzas. You and Carmy joined everyone in the side room. Tina was chatting to Sydney, helping her lay out the long table. Marcus in the corner hooking up his phone with Richie small speaker. Everyone else was scattered around the room talking.

"Hey!" A blonde woman walked in with a big smile on her face.

Carmy instantly drew her into a hug. He leaned back glancing at me before looking back at her.

"This is Suga" He introduced me to her

She smiled over at me and opened her arms to me.

"Oh my god, it's great to finally meet you. Carmy has told me a lot about you over the years" Suga gave me a squeeze before pulling away.

"Really?" You said surprised, not even thinking he would bring you up to other people.

"Same here!" You grinned back.

"We gotta talk later about what the hell is going on" She side mouthed to Carmy before making her way to Tina who was already greeting her.

Richie finally came back with the pizzas and everyone started digging in. You found yourself stuck in a conversation with Richie and Fak

"I swear to fuckin' God it happened" Richie exclaimed telling the story on how Bill Murray is his voicemail.

"I've heard it and it's true" Fak reassuringly nodded at you.

You shook your head in disbelief, knowing it was going to rile up Richie.

"C'mon, you fuckin' believe me, ight?" Richie turned his head to you.

"Well, to be honest, I would have to hear it." You shrugged your shoulders, giving a quick cheeky smile to Fak.

"Fuck it, do you have your phone?"

Fak and I both shook our heads.

"Let me get my phone" Richie felt his pockets trying to place his.

"Hold up" He raised his hand before he walks off towards the kitchen on the mission to find his phone.

As your eyes followed Richie walk out, your sight landed on Carmy sitting at the table talking to Sugar about this evening. You notice his hand was in his hair as he listened to her.

You tell Fak that you're going to get something to drink, asking him if he wanted anything. He said he was good before getting distracted with a song that Marcus had just put on. He boogied his way to Marcus, reeling him in on a fake fishing line.

You made your way to grab a beer out of one of the ice buckets on the table.

"I see you." You hear a voice, and you look down to see Tina sitting at the table picking at her leftover crust.

"Huh?"

She smiled suspiciously before gesturing you to sit down across from her.

"So, how long have you've been..." She rolls her eye towards Carmy at the end of the table.

You glanced over to see him still occupied with Sugar.

"I have no i-"

"Naw, don't play dumb with me. I see the looks you give each other" She narrowed her eyes stilling grinning.

You finally caught on to what she was on about and immediately chuckled.

"Oh no, noth- we're just friends." You smiled, feeling caught off guard on what to say.

"Not in my eyes," she quipped back, taking a drink from her beer.

You looked over to Carmy, and caught him looking at you and immediately took his eyes away. You felt shy all of a sudden. You tried to think back to see if there were any times you and Carmy seemed to be closer to than friends, especially from people looking from the outside in. Nothing came to mind.

"I'm telling you Chica, I'm not judging. Just wonderin' how long has it been going on"

"Well we've never been... together that way" You felt embarrassed explaining to Tina.

She pulled back with her eyebrows raised

"You coulda fooled me" She remarked.

"Here! Here listen" Richie came over shoving his phone in your hand.

You brought the phone up to your ear and on the other end was the voice of Bill Murray.

"Damn," you said to yourself, seeing Richie grin become bigger.

"Fuckin' told you"

You were impressed that you could actually hear Bill Murray and realized that Richie wasn't lying. It's not that you didn't believe him, but maybe didn't take everything he said to heart.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and looked over to see Carmy behind you.

"Wanna talk to you in the office, for a min" He said with a serious tone.

You nodded handing the phone back to Richie. You got up and felt Tina eyes not leaving you until you walked out of the room.

For some reason, your stomach did a flip. What was this about. This is the most relaxed the place has been since you've arrived here. But you could tell Carmy was far from relaxed.

He sat in the chair in the office before leaning over to pull out a foldable chair for you to sit on. As you sat down, you noticed his leg jittering. His inked fingers were tapping on the desk like he was thinking about something.

"Uh.. So I was talkin' to Suga and explainin' everything that happened with the tomato cans and money." He started looking at you.

"She saw all the paper you helped filed and I told her about all the late nights you've been here. Non stop..." He further explained.

As he went on, tension was in the air. You had no idea what he was going on about but him talking more and more made you nervous.

"Carmy" You stated trying to get him to the point.

"Uh.. sorry- fuck" He pushed his hair back and looked down.

"You've been a massive fuckin' help to us. This is crazy to even bring up, so don't worry if you don't wanna..." He continued to ramble.

"I wanna offer you a position here," He finally said.

"What?" You stunned by what just came out of his mouth.

"I wanna offer you a job. I've talked to everyone, and they would love to have you here. It makes sense. You're already caught up on the financial situation, and I trust you."

"Move to Chicago?" You looked down, picking your fingers nervously.

"Uh, y-yeah. I know it's a big ask. I know I still have to pay you for the two weeks, too. But everyone would hate to see you go and-"

"Everyone?" You sputtered out, only realizing after, you said it out loud.

You looked up into his eyes. His blue stare gazing back to you.

"... I w-would, " He stuttered, breaking a small smile.

You felt your heart skip. The thought of moving to Chicago made your stomach flutter. The idea of coming to this place every week made you smile. But most importantly, seeing Carmy daily gave you a weird comfort.

"I have big plans for this place. I would only want people by my side that I know I can count on. One of them is you." He tapped his fingers on the desk lightly.

Your mind went to all the things you would have to start organizing. Your old apartment, moving furniture, driving back to Chicago. It was a lot, especially by yourself.

"I don't know how long-"

"Don't worry, there's no rush. Take the time you need to move here." He scrambled, feeling he was asking a lot from you.

There was a moment of silence between you both. He could tell you were overwhelmed.

"I wanna help you move..." He spoke up, seeing the unexpected look on your face.

".. if only you want," he added not wanting to be too forward.

"Are you sure?" You pressed your lips into fine line.

"Yea, yeah, with both of us, it would be faster. Plus, everyone here could start breaking this place down. " He motioned to his surroundings.

"Look, I'm not asking for an answer now. But, think about it ?" He leaned closer.

You nodded, looking back at him.

Carmy wanted you to say yes. He didn't want to say goodbye. Over the last few weeks, he's gotten used to seeing you. Him going to you moments when he felt everything was falling apart. The rising anxiety he felt imagining you flying off at the end of the week. Him not seeing you come in with coffee for him in the morning. Him making you a quick bite, knowing you would have forgotten to eat all day. In this short period of time, he fell into a routine with you.

The only thing giving him peace was that this place was going to be hectic when it came to renovation that he'll hopefully be too busy to notice you were gone.

"Marcus made us cake! Get some before it's all gone with Richie fat ass. " Tina smirked, leaning into the doorway.

"Go ahead, ill be out in a min" Carmy ushered you away with him staying behind.

"Lovebirds," She muttered, wagging her eyebrows mockingly.

You rolled your eyes, giving her light shove.

Everyone dug into the moist, delicious, double layered chocolate cake. They uttered compliments to Marcus as they took their first bites. It was the perfect thing to end the crazy day. Carmy finally joined you all and picked up a piece of cake that Sydney was guarding against Fak, who wanted seconds.

You both kept separate sides of the room but felt each other's stares. Whatever was growing between each other, you're both hoping it was a wave that would fade away. Just the novelty after not seeing each other for so long. Or maybe the fact that you might not see each other again.

You wanted to think about this straight. It would be easy to get caught up in the fantasy of starting a new life here. You had to think things through, talk to your parents. You knew they were going to question you when it came to your incentives to moving to Chicago. You were apprehensive bringing up Carmy, knowing them hearing a boy's name will ring alarm bells. Did you really want to move to Chicago? Do you really want to commit to a restaurant that doesn't even exist yet? Were you putting yourself through all this trouble just to please a close friend of yours?

These were all questions that were causing you anxiety. You pushed those thoughts out of your head wanting to enjoy one fun night with these group of people that you've become so close with.

"Shots! Shots! Shots!" Richie shouted raising the bottle of Tequila entering the room.

"Here's to a new fuckin' start Cousin!" Richie yelled wrapping his arm around Carmy shoulder pulling him in closer to him.

Carmy grinned, for once giving in to Richie hyper emotions and wrapped his arm around him. His eyes travelled across the room and landed on you. He gestured for you to come over. Richie was pouring shots for everyone. Even if you didn't want one, it didn't seem to be an option.

"I just wanna say.. that I know the last month has been hell" Carmy spoke up bringing the attention to him.

"But, this is the beginning of something bigger than all of us and I know we'll be able to pull it off..." He glanced to everyone holding his cup of tequila.

"So let's make this place something we're proud of...." He paused bringing his cup up.

"and let it rip" He announced

Everyone brought their cups together before downing the tequila.

Chapter 4

Masterlist to other fics

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quiet-onset · 6 months

Text

love and starlight

pairing: luca x black!reader

summary: you finally meet your long-distance boyfriend, luca.

wc: 496, you're welcome

a/n: my man, my man, my man!!! someone scream with me, thanks.

“Woah.”

“What?”

“The stars.”

Luca would never get enough of the wonder that shone in the irises of your brown eyes. He’d never seen beauty so brazen, so outrageous since he discovered the beauty of the kitchen. Even still, that beauty was different — people moving into and around each to create the perfect dish, the best presentation, before being whisked away to the customer. That beauty was like a symphony, growing louder and louder only to be met with an uneasy silence at the end. A long pause until the song repeated its first notes, orders in and chefs working once more.

Your beauty was another deal entirely. It was of another realm. You whose smile made his heart beat twice as fast, adagio to allegro. There was no abrupt silence, no uneasiness. No pressure in waiting to hear if the customer liked the dish. No head chef to tell him he’d been moving too slow or too fast. Just you, lighting up his world so bright even the sun seethed in envy.

He’d underestimated his feelings from behind a computer screen, the distance between you and him tricking him, luring him into false security. To be fair, Marcus tried to warn him — she’s larger than life in person, he’d said. And Luca heard, but he hadn’t really listened. If he had, his heart wouldn’t be putty in your hands when you finally met face to face two days ago.

“What about them?” Luca asked, hands pushed deep in his pockets. He waited with a smile until your head finally turned back down from the cosmos to his eyes. “The stars?”

“Nothing. Nothing, it’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. Can’t be if it makes you happy.”

Another smile, bashful this time, on your lips. You kicked a rock across the pavement. “It’s just… I’ve never really seen stars. Not like this, in person.”

Luca was only slightly taken aback, his brow raised. “Really?”

“Lights are too bright in Chicago. ‘S all you can see.” You shrugged. “And I’ve never really been anywhere rural—”

“You think Copenhagen is rural?”

“I meant in the states.” You laughed, pushing his shoulder playfully.

“I know what you meant.” He added with a chuckle. “Couldn’t really see the stars in London either. I think ‘s called light pollution or something.”

“Fuck light pollution.”

“Agreed.”

You tilted your head back up to stare at the stars, wishing that you’d paid attention in your astronomy class in college. Maybe then you’d be able to point out at least one constellation. The stars didn’t care either way. They sparkled bright, maybe even brighter than usual, just for you. You brushed a stray braid behind your ear as you slowly spun around, gazing into the night sky. “‘S really pretty.” You commented, mostly to yourself.

Luca didn’t look at the stars. Only at your eyes, at the reflection of starlight on your brown skin. “Agreed.”

Then and there, the stars bore witness to true, unashamed love.

#luca x reader #chef luca x reader #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #luca the bear #the bear hulu #the bear headcanon #pastry chef luca

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ihavemanyhusbands · 9 months

Note

helllooo could u write some headcanons for richie being with someone and them having a huge height difference bfjekakqnf that man is so fucking tall

!!! AND WE WOULD CLIMB HIM LIKE A TREE !!!

- obviously he would tease you about it, calling you things like fun sized, shortstack, tiny, and other things like that.

- would lean his arm on top of your head sometimes just to fuck with you lol

- still, he wouldn’t let anyone else tease you about it.

- oh you guys had an argument? Well, he’s moving the thing you needed to the top shelf. Good luck getting that by yourself.

-MAYBE THIS IS TOO SELF INDULGENT but I’ve always preferred being the big spoon (and i’m 5’3) so in my mind he actually loves being the little spoon (i think it’s called jetpacking when the big spoon is shorter, which i think is so funny lmao)

- his t-shirts basically being dresses on you (but god they smell like him and you love wearing them as much as you can)

- hand size comparison…………. Need i say more??

- his hugs being the best bc ur like fully enveloped by him <3

- only reaching his shoulder when wearing heels (and helping you walk in them bc he’s a gentleman <3)

- tall intimidating boyfriend who protects you when you go out privileges!!!!!

- can easily uhhhh get you into any position he wants 🤭🤭🤭 (no seriously, i want him to overpower me)

- can carry you at concerts so you can see the band better

- pulling him down by the tie in order to kiss him!!! 🫠

Abdusiwnjfco there’s just so many thingssssss god i love a good size difference 😮‍💨

——

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich fanfiction #richie jerimovich x fem!reader #richie jerimovich headcanons #the bear x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear headcanon

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binzlovenicetingz · 9 months

Note

Idk if your taking requests for will or Luca but can you do one where the reader is saving themselves for marriage but is scared which will/Luca would leave them. Im sorry I’m feeling angst, fluffy. Not having a good day😭

hi hi yes i am taking requests imma a little slow with replies due to work but i will try my best and I’m sorry you weren’t having a good day. feel free to message anytime 🤎

I’ll give this one to Luca. You were honestly so scared to tell him that you were saving yourself for marriage because 1) that was still considered old-fashioned by some of your friends and 2) you didn’t want to lose him. the thought of your relationship with ending because you didn’t “put out” was always in the back of your mind every time a kiss getting too heated and you’d feel his need growing before you pulled away. If he was upset about it then he never showed it or was really good at hiding it

you shared this with some friends who shared story after story of their partner leaving or cheating because there was no sex. there advise only sent you spiraling further because what if Luca gets bored of waiting? he was a hot chef with tattoos and beefy arms, there wouldn’t be any issues with him finding someone who would be willing to give up all of themselves to him, you just weren’t one of them.

you thought that you were keeping it all together but Luca noticed a change in you for a while now. Opting to watch and listen until he started to ask what was wrong but you would push it off quickly, a small smile on your pretty lips wasn’t fooling him but you wouldn’t talk him and he could force you too

until one nice, his first night off in awhile and he just wanted to spend it laying in bed cuddled up with you. instead you were scrolling through your instagram, showing him every post that had a woman in a bikini or some tight athletic shorts, asking him if he thought this one was pretty or that one. he entertained you the first time but now Luca couldn’t stand seeing another influencers edit tits being shown.

with a tired sigh, Luca sits up, eyeing you carefully while you continued scrolling “what’s this really about, love?”

“about what?” you don’t look up, scrolling and liking post after post.

“what you’re doing now” Luca reaches over, taking your phone from your hand ad your quickly protest.

“you can’t just take my stuff like that!” you huff but quickly stop when you see the remorse on his face.

“I know and I’m sorry but I need you to focus on me, angel, please.” Luca gently cups your cheek, eyes filled with admiration and worry. “just..talk to me, please.”

you were a goner. instantly you were wrapping your arms around him, tears flowing and you tried to tell him about your insecurities, the worries and thoughts that go through your head.

Luca holds your close, letting you cry out but also soothing you. he couldn’t understand what you were trying to say but you softly whispering, “please don’t leave me” crushed him. after a few minutes, you felt yourself calming down while Luca gently rubbings small circles on your back.

“I’m not sure where this is coming from but I’m not leaving you.” he says gentle yet firm in his words, he makes sure your focus on him, “all those other people you showed me, there’s nothing compared to you, okay?”

you nod slowly before he places a kiss on top of your head. a sign leaving your lips, it was now or never, “I..um..Im-Im a virgin and I plan on keeping it that way until I’m married.”

Luca was slightly taken aback by your sudden confession and he must of looked surprised because you were quick to continue, word vomit claiming you as it’s next victim.

“I-I know it’s probably weird that I’m not putting out or whatever but this means a lot too me and I want to know that I’m g-giving myself to someone who truly loves me. so if you wanted break up or something then just do it now because I heard that if I don’t sleep with you soon, you’re going to find someone who will give it up easily to because that’s just something that’s gonna happen and-“

“whoa, who told you that crap?”

you shrug like a child caught but you still shared the name of some friends who told you those cheating stories. you can tell Luca was annoyed by that but he was quick to reassure you he’s not the type and that you might need to rethink some friendships if they aren’t being supportive of you.”

“I meant what I said, y/n. I’m not going anywhere”

for the first time in a while, Luca was able to see your perfect smile.

Satisfied that you were able to talk to him about your problems and work through them together.

#chef luca the bear #luca the bear #chef luca x reader #the bear #I want luca NOW #will poulter #the bear headcanon #will poulter imagine #chef luca imagine

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loveforcarmen · 2 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 - CH. 6

- 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘰𝘤 𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 | - 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯

NOTE: lowkey wrote carmen a little ooc in this chapter 🫣

souvenir - boygenius

Carmen woke up to a loud pounding on his apartment door, jolting him awake. "What the fuck?" he muttered to himself, sitting up in bed. The door pounded again, with more force against it this time.

He got out of bed quietly, quickly slipping on a t-shirt that was on the floor. Walking towards his apartment door, he grabbed the baseball bat that he kept near the door. He opened the door quickly, bat raised over his shoulder.

"Carmen, what the fuck?" Margaret slurred, taking a step back.

He lowered the bat to his side, throwing his hand up, "What are you doing here? You lost or something?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ward off an incoming migraine.

"Where are you coming from?" Carmen asked, glancing over her outfit. She wore a small black dress that hugged her body paired with a set of dark red heels. He stood still, slightly annoyed as she took her time to answer his question.

"A party." she motioned to her outfit, "Was it not obvious?" she did a small twirl, almost tripping over her feet due to the alcohol in her system.

"Yeah, you're right. It was obvious." he said, not in the mood to agrue with a drunk woman. They always win, even if they're wrong.

Margaret's smile suddenly dropped, the corners of her mouth turning into a frown. "My friends left me." her voice cracked as she felt herself growing emotional, amplified with her drunken state.

"Where's Sydney? Wasn't she supposed to go with you?"

She felt her bottom lip quiver as she spoke, "She cancelled last minute. Something with her dad." she said, shrugging her shoulders. She wore a sad smile as she backed up, leaning against the wall across from his apartment door.

"You need better friends." Carmen said, still standing in the doorway.

"Guess so." she sighed, picking at her fingernails. There was a long pause between the 2 before Carmen finally huffed, stepping aside to let her in.

She muttered a quiet "thank you" as she walked past him, into the apartment. He nodded his head, kicking the door closed behind them. Margaret set her bag on his coffee table, then carefully took off her shoes.

Settling onto the couch, she started to fall asleep when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She looked up, her head still spinning.

"You can sleep in my bed. I'll take the couch." Carmen said, leaning over the couch, looking down at her. His hands gripped the couch, his hand close enough to her face to the point where she could study the intricate details of his hand tattoos.

"You don't have to. I don't want your pity." she said, closing her eyes again.

"Trust me, I don't feel pity for you. I just know that couch isn't the most comfortable to sleep on, speaking from experience." He helped her up off the couch, his touch almost featherlight on her arms.

He motioned for her to follow him down the hallway to his bedroom. As she trailed behind him, she noticed that he had absolutely no decor. No pictures, no paintings, no wall shelving. Absolutely nothing.

He opened the door, quickly swiping a pair of pants off his bed and tossing them into his closet. "Just wait there. I'll get you a change of clothes to sleep in." Carmen said as he walked to his dresser.

"Yes chef." she joked, immediately wishing she could take it back. Why would she even say that?

Carmen was glad his back was turned to her, her stupid comment almost pulling a genuine smile out of him. Maybe it was the fact it was early in the morning, so his head was loopy and his sense of humor was warped. Maybe it was the fact that she had no filter right now, her honesty in full effect.

He dug through his drawer, eventually settling on a pair of boxers and one of his many white t-shirts. He turned around, handing the clothes off to Margaret, who sat patiently on his bed.

She raised an eyebrow, holding the boxers out in front of her. Carmen hardly owned any pairs of shorts, so boxers was the best he could settle on. "They're clean." he rolled his eyes, continuing on. "Bathroom is over there. I'll be making the bed if you need anything."

He extended his arm to the door on their right as he walked over to the linen closet by the doorway. Carmen kept his eyes on Margaret a second longer than he intended to as she walked to the bathroom. He pressed his nails into his palms, punishing himself. She was his coworker first, anything else second. He didn't want to change the scenery.

As he changed the bedsheets and blanket, Margaret changed out of her clothes in the bathroom. She neatly folded her dress, setting it on the bathroom counter.

Carmen knocked on the door with a sharp rap of his knuckles, startling her, "Yo, you good in there?" he asked then kept quiet, waiting for answer.

"Yep." she said, opening the door. She smoothed down the white tee, which could practically be considered a dress on her. "I think it might be too tight." she said sarcastically.

He cleared his throat, ignoring her comment, "Bed is made. I grabbed your bag from the coffee table and set it on the nightstand. Just in case you needed something."

"Thanks Carmen." she said, rubbing the back of her neck as she walked to the bed. She let out an intentional whimper, hitting a knot that was in her neck from hours of looking down and cooking. It was quiet enough that someone wouldn't have heard it unless they were really listening.

"Yeah, no problem.." Carmen trailed off, still standing in the doorway. He scratched his knotted curls before walking off, "I'll go get you a glass of water." he excused himself.

He returned with the glass, setting it down gently on the wooden bedside table. Margaret looked up at him, appreciating his kindness. It wasn't outwardly shown to her often, especially in the kitchen. He usually wore a grumpy exterior, more often during the 2 week period after they fought.

"Thank you, Carmy." she said quietly, using his nickname for the first time in awhile. It was her way of showing that forgave him and also her way of apologizing for the past 2 weeks.

"Don't mention it." he rubbed the back of his neck before adding, "If you need to puke, please run to the bathroom."

"Got'cha." she mumbled, already drifting off into the welcoming arms of sleep. Carmen nodded his head, walking out of the bedroom. A feeling pricked him in the back like a needle, causing him to turn over.

"Roll over." Carmen said, walking to the bedside. He gently grabbed her, easily pushing her body on its side.

"Why?" she asked, awake and confused by the sudden action. She didn't even notice his hands holding her bare waist, his touch delicate on her skin.

"Because," he answered as he helped her roll over, "I don't need to drowning in your own puke dumbass." he remarked, stepping away from the bed.

"Oh." Margaret whispered. There was a long pause between them before she spoke again, "Goodnight."

Carmen walked to the doorway, flicking off the soft lamp lighting that had been illuminating the room, "Night Maggie." He shut door, walking to the living room to prepare his makeshift bed for the night.

SOMETIME IN EARLY MORNING

Carmen woke up to the usual brigade of bad dreams that plagued him at night. Getting up to fill up a glass of water, he noticed that he was sweating profusely. There was a line of sweat down the center of his back, transferring the moisture onto his shirt.

He groaned, filling up his cup, downing it then filling it up again. Setting his cup in the sink, he turned to quietly walk down the hallway to the bedroom. He opened the door, which resulted in a low 'creak' from the hinges.

Margaret stirred at the noise but did not wake up. Carmen grabbed her glass, then left room as quietly as he had came in. As he waited for the glass to fill up, he ran his fingers through his hair. A stress habit. Why was he stressed about her being there?

He returned to the bedroom, gently setting the glass back down in its previous spot. He glanced over at Margaret, who was sleeping soundly. Her hair had fallen onto her face, covering her cheeks and eyes.

He turned to leave, the quick turn resulting in him stubbing his toe on the nightstand. The nightstand rattled, causing a picture frame to fall over.

"Fuck." Carmen whisper-yelled, grabbing his foot tightly.

"Carmen?" Margaret groaned, slowly waking up. He let out a strained 'yeah' in response as he held his foot. She sat up, blinking her eyes to adjust to the darkness. "What are you doing?"

Carmen let out a loud huff before answering, "I was refilling your water." he said, his pain beginning to subside.

"Oh..alright." she still gave him a nod, knowing he couldn't see her.

"Yup."

Before she talked, she debated whether she should open her mouth. "I just wanted to thank you for being so nice to be tonight." her nose stung as she spoke, her glossy eyes flicking away from Carmen's silhouette.

"Hey it's fine." he reassured her quickly, "I don't know why you're getting emotional."

"Cause I'm drunk." she said bluntly, throwing her hands up in the air. There was a quick beat before she spoke again, "You're just so.."

Carmen hung onto her last words, waiting for what she was going to say.

"Just..so..stern." she said, laying back down. "I'm not used to seeing outwardly "nice carmen" that often, especially outside of the kitchen."

Her words felt like a slap in the face, leaving him wincing at the sting of aftermath. Is this what she really thought of him? Had he not came to her house to cheer her up? Was that not nice enough for her?

"It's my job to be stern. Compare what I've done to what you've done. It's not an insult just an observation ; stern gets you places." The words seem to fall out of his mouth, unable to catch them before damage was done. He let out a forced chuckle, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Wow." was all she could say. She rolled to her other side, away from him. Gripping the blanket in her fist tightly, she tuned him out.

"I didn't mean it that way." he said quietly. He wanted to say more, he just didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Maggie."

He retreated back to the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him. He dug his nails into his palm, scolding himself. "Why the fuck would you say that?" he whispered to himself.

MORNING

"Yo!" Carmen yelled from the kitchen, attempting to wake Margaret up.

She grumbled, rubbing her eyes from the beams of light blinding her. Sunlight poured in through the slits in the curtains, creating lines of light on the bed. Looking around the unfamiliar room, Margaret began to grow nervous.

"Jesus christ." she said, quickly shuffling to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, examining the smudged mascara under eyes. Her hair was a unbrushed mane of blonde curls, which was looking particularly messy today.

"Shit, shit, shit." she said, grabbing her dress from the ground. Throwing the dress over her shoulder, she walked out the room, brushing her finger through her hair as she went.

Carmen was in the kitchen, packing his bag for work she walked out. "You're gonna be late I take it?" he said, not looking up the counter.

"You can take it off my pay, I don't care." she spat, putting on her shoes quickly. He laughed, shaking his head. "You think this is funny?" she said, standing up with her bag.

"Hey, you're the one who decided to go get fucked up on a work night." he said, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

She shot him a glare, sneering as she walked past him. She didn't want to admit that he was right, she didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

She quickly walked down the hallway, wincing with each step she took. Her heels from last night had left blisters on the back of her ankles, "Stupid pieces of shit." she muttered under her breath as she pressed the '1' button in the elevator.

As she waited for the elevator to descend, she scrunched her eyes shut, lightly banging her head against the wall a few times in frustration. Feeling so pathetic for even coming to Carmen's apartment. Why didn't she go to Marcus' house? Hell, even Richie's house?

The elevator dinged, interrupting her thoughts. She walked out of the building, rushing down the few stairs that were at the entrance of the building.

"Did I fucking walk here?" she asked herself breathlessly. She looked around for any sign of her easily identifiable red car. She huffed, trying to find a taxi, but the street was pretty much empty.

"Need a ride?" Carmen said behind her. She balled her fists up at her side, not speaking or turning towards him. "You're gonna be even later to work." he got in his car, turning it on. He began to pull away slowly, maintaining eye contact with her hardened stare.

"Ok, fine. Wait!" she yelled, breaking her facade. She plopped herself into the passenger seat, buckling herself in.

"That's what I thought." Carmen said, pulling away from the curb. Margaret didn't bother making conversation, the comment from early that morning still eating at her.

"I said I was sorry." Carmen said, practically reading her mind through her facial expressions.

She just stared at the window, not acknowledging his apology. She knew it was childish, but that didn't stop her. He pulled up to the front of her apartment, harshly stepping on the brake.

She lurched forward a bit, the seat belt locking in place. Glaring, she unbuckled the seatbelt and got out of the car.

"Thanks for the ride." her words practically frigid with how unenthusiasticlly she spoke. She shut the door, a bit harder than she intended to, then walked away.

"Yup." Carmen said. He rolled the window back as he drove off the the restaurant.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Sydney asked as Margaret walked in. Her hood was up, hands shoved deep in her pockets as she sped walked through the kitchen.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence Syd." She breathed, setting her belongings into her locker. Tying her apron quickly around her waist, she walked over to her station.

"I took care of your prep." Sydney whispered to her as Carmen walked by. He kept his eyes straight ahead, paying no attention to the 2 girls.

"Oh Sydney.." Margaret faked a pout, then pulled Sydney into a quick hug. "Thank you."

The rest of the day was horrible for Margaret. She was off her game, moving slower than she'd ever moved before. Her hangover was hitting her now, her actions very clearly showing that.

As she cut the bread for the sandwiches, she felt a tight grip on her arm. She looked over, surprised by the sudden touch. It was Carmen, pulling her aside from the kitchen.

"Sweeps! Continue cutting the bread. It'll just be a second!" he called out into the kitchen, then focused his gaze on Margaret. "What's going on?"

She huffed, pulling her arm away from him, "I'm fine." she replied flatly.

He closed his eyes, drawing in a breath to keep himself composed, "You're moving slow as fuck. Why?"

"Chef, I'm fine." she said, walking away from him. Carmen should've fired her right there and then for how she acted. It was unacceptable, but he was low on staff, so firing her would've been a stupid decision. Margaret returned back to her station, thanking Sweeps for taking over.

She was finally allowed her break, which relieved some of her anxiety. She sat at one of the tables in the front since the restaurant was practically dead at that time. Her fork picked at her food, moving it around the plate as she ate. Resting her head on her hand, she robotically ate her late lunch.

Carmen watched her from behind the kitchen ledge, observing her state. Clearly the hangover mixed with her feminine need to be mad over nothing was affecting her greatly. "No." he thought to himself, "She did have some right to be mad at him."

He walked up to her, his breath drawing tighter with each step. Her eyes flicked up to him, pausing her eating. Carmen tossed a folded piece of paper on the table then walked to the kitchen.

She watched him leave, then grabbed the paper. As she opened it, she saw the words scribbled on it, "i'm sorry mags."

She immediately looked at the kitchen to search for Carmen, only to find that he was already staring at her. Without words, his body language asked "Are we good?"

She nodded, then began to clean up her plate and fork. As she walked into the kitchen, Carmen gave her shoulder a tight squeeze, "Thatta girl." he said.

She let out a quiet laugh, then continued through the kitchen. Setting her plates in the dishwasher, she returned to her station to cut bread.

"Chef." Carmen looked over his shoulder, watching her carefully cut the bread.

"Yes chef?" she replied, not looking up from her station.

"Look at me." he said quietly. His voice was low, just loud enough for her to hear.

She glanced up, meeting his gaze. "What?"

"Can you make the grocery list for me?" he asked, hitting his pen against the counter. His gaze was fixed on her doe eyes, never faltering.

She nodded her head, carefully setting down the knife. "Yes chef." She left to retreive a notepad and pen, finding a counter to lean over and write on. She wrote down the obvious basics like beef, broth, ingredients for bread, vegetables, etc. Eventually finishing up, she got from her spot and began asking each of the cooks if they had any requests.

"We could get some plantains." Tina suggested. She hit the ladle over the side of the pot, knocking some sauce off before she set it in the sink.

Margaret sighed, "Nothing in the menu requires plantains, Tina." she dropped the notepad and pen to her side.

"It was worth a try." Tina shrugged, returning back to her work.

Margaret turned to walk away, but she stopped herself. "What would you even make with plantains that would fit the menu?"

"Buttercream." Marcus said, the mixing machine whirring behind him.

"What?" Margaret said loudly, moving closer to him.

The machine hummed wildly, almost sounding like it was going to explode. "I said.." He yelled, then rolled his eyes. He turned around, switching off the machine then turned back to Margaret. "Buttercream. I need buttercream."

"Yes chef." she said as she scribbled on her notepad, walking away.

"Um.." Sydney paused, looking at the floor as she racked her brain for ideas. "I'm drawing blanks." she finally said, looking back up at Margaret.

"Well," Margaret closed the notepad, "Just let me know by the end of the day."

She tucked it her back pocket, then walked back over to her station. There was a small loaf of bread sitting on the cutting board, the knife placed next to it. The pile of loaves had dwindled while she was making the list, leaving barely work left to be done.

She picked up the bread in her left hand, holding it in her palm. As she went to cut it with the knife, it went right through the bread, slicing a large gash across her palm.

Someone had already cut the bread, but left it on the board.

"Fuck!" she yelled out. Her heart was racing as she felt her heartbeat in her hand. She grabbed one of the spare towels she kept in her apron pocket, wrapping it around her hand tightly.

Richie looked up from the register, taken aback by her sudden outburst. She never yelled, so it was a rare occasion. "Someone finally got a mouth." he laughed.

"Richie, fuck off!" she yelled back, the adrenaline taking over her body. She breathed heavily, backing up from the bread station.

"Hey, it's ok baby." Tina said from behind her. She unwrapped Margaret's already bloody towel, and replaced it with a clean one. Her hand pulsated, s bleeding heavily. The cut was around the same width as her palm and deep. Of course she had been in high-stress situations before but this was a raw kind of rush.

Carmen came out of his office quick, unaware of what had happened. He walked up to Tina and Margaret, eyes looking down at the bloody towel. His eyes flicked up to her tense face which was scrunched into a panicked expression.

"C'mere." He grabbed her other wrist gently, and guided her to the industrial kitchen sink. He turned the water on, lukewarm water spitting out. Slowly moving her hand under the water, this earned a sharp hiss to escape Margaret's body. "Shh, I know." he said quietly, trying to calm her.

She buried her face into her right shoulder, looking away from her hand. She let out a pained whimper, which caused to Carmen to glance at her. "Relax your hand for me." he calmly ordered, "There we go, unclench it.”

Richie hurried into the kitchen, peeking over Carmen's shoulder, "Margy, what the fuck happened?" he practically yelled, unintentionally shouting into Carmen's ear.

"Richie, shut the fuck up and back the fuck up." he harshly spat over his shoulder.

"Guys!" Tina said, rubbing Margaret's back in circles.

"Sorry sweetheart." Richie replied, taking a step back. Tina walked past him, smacking him upside the head and gave him a "mom" look.

Margaret whined into her shoulder, tears brimming her eyes. Carmen picked up on it, beginning to gently rub her forearm. "Just breathe. You're okay, you're good." he said softly.

She turned to face her hand, watching the water wash away the spilling blood. She could tell the cut was deep by the way the water stung her hand. Glancing at Carmen, she noticed he was still focused on her hand. He was intent on taking care of her, his words soft and his touch gentle. He didn't know exactly what came over him in the moment, but seeing her hurt turned him into a completely different person.

"There we go." he turned the water off, lifting her hand up. He grabbed a new towel from his pocket, wrapping it around her hand. "Let's go to my office, I think there's a first aid kit in there." He could practically hear her heart beating out of his chest.

She nodded, unable to form words, following Carmen to his office. She kept a tight grip on the towel, pressing down on the wound like she had seen in the movies. He pushed the door open, motioning for Margaret to sit down in the chair.

While she sat holding her hand, he rummaged through the filing cabinets until he found the first aid kit. He opened it, looking through the contents, pulling out a thick bandage and some type of wrap.

He leaned against his desk, "Give me your hand." he said as he opened a bottle of sterile saline solution. She listened, carefully unwrapping her hand from the towel.

She winced as she pulled the towel off, holding it awkwardly in her other hand. He carefully took her hand, resting it on his thigh. He squeezed some of the saline solution onto her palm, which coaxed another whimper from her.

"I know, I know." he said, peering down at her. Her eyebrows were knit together tightly, lips formed in a pout as her hand stung from the solution. He set the bottle down, swapping it out for the bandage.

His hands were wrapped around her forearm to keep her steady as he applied the bandage. His brows were pinched together in concentration as he started to wrap her hand. Margaret wanted to thank him in that moment, but she couldn't form the words. She felt almost suffocate, his sudden gentleness hypnotizing her.

Finishing up, he set the kit away, "I'm going to go finish closing with the others, you just wait in here. We'll see how your hand is when I finish closing." he said, leaving Margaret to her own devices in his office.

Margaret spent the last 15 minutes of closing, sitting in his office. Her leg bounced up and down rapidly, as her thoughts consumed her. What if she needed stitches? Did it need to be sewn up? She couldn't afford a hospital bill right now.

"I can't leave you alone for one second, can I?" Carmen's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She laughed quietly, "I mean, I'm okay. It's fine now." she said, playing with her hands.

"It's not okay. I can't afford for my chefs to be making mistakes like this." he motioned to her hand. "Lemme see it." he crouched to the floor, almost eye level with her.

Margaret extended her hand, allowing Carmen to examine it. He sharply inhaled, looking at the bloodied mess under the bandage. "Do you feel lightheaded?" he worriedly asked, eyes scanning over her.

"No, I'm okay." she assured him. He nodded his head response, applying a new bandage and wrapping it up.

"All good?" he asked, pushing himself back into an upright position. Margaret looked up at him, lips twisted into a worried pout. Her teeth chomped down onto her lip, hard, as she nodded her head.

Carmen could see that this had really shook her, clearly not a usual occurrence in her previous cooking jobs. He watched as she stood up, wiping her clammy hand on her apron.

"Thank you." she said quietly. Her big eyes flicked up at him, then away towards the door. She walked past him and to the lockers.

Breathe in.

Flower. Paintbrush. Tabby cat. California. Diner.

Breathe out.

She opened her locker, slowly taking off her apron and hanging it on the hook. As she threw on her jacket, Carmen joined her, opening his own locker.

"Night." Margaret said, walking away.

"Maggie.." Carmen breathed. She subconsciously bit down on her lip, knowing she'd chew through it by the end of the night. A nervous habit that had stuck with her since she was young. "You want to catch dinner sometime this week? You know, as an apology for what I said last night. Well technically this morning." he corrected.

She smiled at the ground, "You don't have to do that Carmen."

"Well I feel like I should." he said quickly after she finished her sentence.

She nodded her head, "I would like that."

END

sooo did we like this chapter?? i also apologize for any spelling mistakes because i literally never proofread my stuff 😇

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto headcanons #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy bear #carmy x reader #the bear one shot #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear headcanon #the bear fandom #the bear

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nolita-fairytale · 10 months

Text

give you my wild, give you a child | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x pregnant fem!reader oneshot

summary: your second trimester while pregnant with baby bear is way sexier than you expected.

warnings: smut, breeding kink, language, 18+ only, barely proofread.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: hi it's me with the second trimester sexapalooza smut i promised @starbritestarlite and @carmensberzattos. and with this new season, let me know if you want to be added to my carmy taglist!! i wrote this as a companion piece to the 'make my heart heart surrender' universe, specifically for the 'carmy as your baby daddy' headcanon/social media au series. anyways, i've been thoroughly enjoying season 2 and am sitting into the fact that i've created my own universe inside of their universe. god we love fanfic. anyways... this is nsfw so 18+ only.

Today 2:21 pm

Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: On the way home for lunch.

You: Hurry, baby.

Carmy “my baby daddy” Berzatto: You good, sweet girl?

Your reply is almost instant, and Carmy wonders what could possibly come next as he sees the three dots appear below your message, indicating that you’re still typing.

It’s a link, his eyes widening as soon as it appears in his iMessage history with you.

You: Hottest Sex Positions For Pregnant Women | Cosmopolitan

Before he can notice that it feels ten degrees hotter in the room, that his face has turned cherry red, that his pants are beginning to feel unbearably tighter, he’s interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

“You good, chef?” Marcus asks, as he passes by, noticing the red tones that have risen to Carmy’s cheeks.

“Wh-, oh yeah!” Carmy answers, almost too quickly, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

Marcus shoots him a strange look, examining his boss’ face.

“Just uh… gotta go home for lunch.”

3:03 pm

“What took you so long?” you practically growl as soon as Carmy gets through the door.

He hasn’t even had a chance to close it properly before you’re on him like a moth to a flame. Dressed in the cutest pair of white shortalls, you’ve been working from home all day – or rather, mindlessly clicking through your e-mail while waiting for Carmy to come home all day, your mind preoccupied with the fact that Carmy hasn’t been home to give you exactly what you want.

What you need, may be the better description.

It’s as if the spirit of Eros himself has taken you over, unable to focus properly as your rapidly changing body needs is practically screaming out for one thing and one thing only:

To be properly and thoroughly fucked by the man that got you here in the first place.

“I-,” he begins, attempting to explain that he was running a little behind and got caught up giving feedback to one of his new line cooks before your mouth is on his in an all-consuming kiss.

Now that he’s here, you regret even asking him, careless for the why when it feels this good to have him pressed up against your body. Your lips are desperate, hungry, intense, as you tangle yourself into him. It’s as if you can finally relax, like you can finally take a breath, now that your husband is finally here.

He lets out a little groan of surprise against your mouth, as if you’ve charged towards him like the sexual equivalent of a tasmanian devil.

And in his defense, you have.

“Baby,” he whispers against your lips. “Should we-, can we even-, shouldn’t you be working?”

He’s not wrong.

You should be working.

But the unbelievable and insatiable need for sex – for sex with Carmy – is the only thing driving you these days, holding you hostage to its unbelievable and all-encompassing power. You’re like a woman possessed as you reluctantly pull away from him to put his mind at ease. Your lust-filled eyes look him over, his curls already wild from a long day at the restaurant, as you shake your head ‘no.’

“I finished all my work for the day and signed off early. Perks of being a start-up sellout,” your well-kissed lips inform him.

Carmy’s head spins in response to your answer.

Maybe it’s the prospect of the sex.

Maybe it’s the way it’s the way your mouth feels against him as you kiss down his jawline and his neck.

“Okay, but I gotta be back at the restaurant at 4:15,” he smiles in agreement, more than happy to oblige.

“That’s plenty of time,” you coo, nibbling on his earlobe.

This time it’s Carmy who initiates, using both of his hands to cradle your face before his mouth is over yours again. The kiss starts slowly this time as he inhales deeply, taking you in. You shift closer, pressing your slightly-rounder-these-days belly against his body once more. He moans, his hands immediately traveling down your body, to your hips as he breathes you in again, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with you forever. His touch ignites something in you and you allow yourself to surrender, lost in the feel of his hands against you. His hands are everywhere – your hips, traveling up your belly, dancing across your fuller-than-normal breasts – and finally the drawn-out unrest of your mind can finally find peace.

He’s starting to get used to this.

And he’ll admit that he really, really likes it.

Carmy changes positions with you so that he can press you up against the front door as you continue your passionate makeout.

Your first trimester had been hell – mornings spent on the bathroom floor together while you hurled the contents of your stomach into the toilet, days where you barely had the energy to get out of bed, nights where you were too hot to sleep that all you could do was lay on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, frustrated tears pouring out of the corners of your eyes – your body undergoing the hardest reset of your life.

So when the fog and tumultuousness of your first trimester subsided, it was a more than welcomed change – and in so many ways. You’ve traded mornings of flat ginger ale, saltines, and sympathetic back rubs, with mornings spent tugging on Carmy’s perfect curls while you cried out his name.

“You smell like sandwiches,” you giggle in between kisses.

“Ah shit. I should shower,” he sighs, reluctantly.

He knows your sense of smell has been heightened lately, and he can’t imagine that smelling like a spicy Italian sandwich would be much of a turn on for you. He begins to pull away, but there’s now way in hell you’re letting him go as you grab his hands in yours.

"No, Carmy, I can't wait,” you whine, the sound of your voice the most needy, beautiful thing Carmy’s ever heard in his life.

“You could join me,” he offers with a raise of an eyebrow, presenting a solution you can absolutely get behind.

“Uh huh. Yes please,” you nod eagerly, a girlishness to the way you answer him.

Please.

Your usage of the word’s got him harder than a rock and he loves this side of you. Your sex life had been great before the pregnancy, but there’s something different about it now. Something about how needy you’ve been – the only thing that can possibly quell the fire inside of you being him – has him unraveling at the seams.

How could he possibly say no when he’s more than eager to give you exactly (and then some, if it’s up to him) what you want?

Your fingers are still tangled in his, licking your lips as you add, “My baby daddy thinks of everything.”

Carmy shakes his head, tugging at your hands as he leads you towards the bathroom, mentioning that he still can’t get over the fact that you’ve chosen to call him that in front of everyone you’ve ever known. You remind him that it’s cute, and though he’s not sure he gets it, he lets you do it anyway because it makes you happy.

As you both reach the bathroom, you patiently wait as Carmy turns on the shower, running a hand through the stream of water to check the temperature. One minute he’s focused on the cool water coming down from the showerhead, and then next he’s caging you in between his body and the bathroom sink.

“You miss me this much, pretty girl?” he murmurs dreamily, his hand trailing up your inner thigh.

You nod, taking note of how perfectly his top lip fits in between yours.

“Yes, baby. Thanks for coming home for lunch,” you manage to get out, in between desperate kisses.

“No need to thank me,” he smirks, a newly-found confidence in his voice.

His hands are tugging at the hem of your shorts, as if he could slide the overalls down your body this way, a small pang of frustration welling deep in his stomach as he realizes that’s not going to happen. He kisses you with a fervor that makes you dizzy, as Carmy fumbles with the straps of your overalls. Trying his best to unclasp one side, he tosses the strap over your back, a clang sounding out within the four walls of the small room as the metal of the claps hits the porcelain of the sink.

Carmy lets out a groan as he tugs at the second strap, causing you to giggle.

“These stupid things,” he huffs, a look of embarrassment running through his brilliant blues.

“Here, baby,” you say, slipping one of your arms out of the tangled strap.

He groans as soon as his eyes meet yours again, more than happy to help you out of these damn things.

He pulls the overalls down with a rigor that stops right as the overalls drop to your waist, revealing your white tank top – one that you’re not wearing a bra underneath.

“Sweetheart,” he groans, his hands ghosting over where your nipples stand erect against the fullness of your breasts.

“You been like this all day?” he mutters against your skin, leaning down to drag his mouth over your still-clothed breasts.

“Mmmmhm. Needed you,” you moan, your eyes closing as you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you.

He’s so incredibly hard right now it’s not even funny.

“Yeah?”

By the time you open your eyes again, Carmy’s on his knees, so gentle, so tender with the way he slides the rest of the piece of clothing over the bump that’s been growing inside of your belly.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

You shimmy out of your overalls as Carmy jumps back to his feet, removing your tank so that the only thing you have left is the pair of panties you’re still wearing. Before he can kiss you again, you’re tugging off his shirt, a sacrifice, an offering to the bathroom floor.

“Should be warm enough, yeah?” you ask, gesturing towards the shower.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod, removing his shorts.

You feel all the blood in your body rush south as you see how hard he is already, swallowing hard. Carmy helps you into the shower, like the gentlemen he is, and you hope that’s where the gentleness ends.

Before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you towards him, wrapping one of your legs around his waist as the warm water begins to wash over the both of you.

“I’m so sorry, pretty girl,” he hums as his nimble fingers slip between your legs. He groans as soon as he feels how goddamn wet you are.

“Fuck, honey.”

“See? I told you I needed you, Carm,” you pant, letting out a high keening moan as he draws lazy circles around your clit. You’re already bucking your hips into his hand and he’s barely started touching you.

"You're so sensitive. So responsive, sweet girl,” he teases you, as he drags his fingers through your folds. You are so unbelievably wet that he’s not sure how he managed to get so damn lucky.

"I just want you to fuck me, Carm. I’ve needed it all day. I need you to make me feel good," you beg, completely lost in the way his fingers feel as he slides two into you already.

It’s like his touch sets fireworks off in your brain, setting your nerves on fire as you cry out.

"Yeah?” he taunts you, an almost amused tone in his voice as he sets the slowest rhythm. “Think that’s how we got here in the first place, pretty girl.”

"I know,” you whimper, moving your hips against his fingers for any kind of friction. For something more. For something faster. For something deeper. But at this rate, with how much he seems to enjoy teasing you, with how horny you are, you’ll take anything.

“But nothing feels as good as you, Carm.”

Your words go straight to his dick and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to leave you alone ever again – might as well quit his day job in exchange for this all-day never-ending second trimester sexapalooza you both seem to be caught inside of.

He’s practically choking on his words as he manages to ask you:

"What’s that, baby? Did you touch yourself while I was gone?"

You nod pathetically, moaning as he buries his thick fingers deep inside of you. He pauses, feeling the way your walls pulse around him as he stays inside of you, wanting to memorize this moment forever.

In any other circumstance, he’d make you fall apart on his fingers, and then his tongue before you even went there, but with your recent admission, he’s decided that he has to have you now. In one swift motion, Carmy pulls his fingers from you, releasing his grip on your leg, eliciting a whine at the loss of him.

Before you can even protest, he’s turning you around in the shower, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against your backside as he pulls you close.

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like this,” he taunts you, playfully, as he drags his cock through your folds a few times.

“Carm,” you whimper, bracing your hands against the shower wall. “Don’t tease.”

“What’s that?” he coos, pressing his thick tip against your clit.

“I don’t think I can take it. Please, baby,” you whine, so desperate for him to be inside of you. You push your ass back against him, offering your body to him for the taking.

“Fuck!” he grunts out, because he just can’t resist you like this.

You let out a sharp cry, as Carmy pushes himself inside of you, finally giving the thing you’ve wanted all day long.

Carmy sets a slow pace at first, burying himself all the way to the hilt, so that you can feel all of him – every single ridge, every single vein of his cock with each thrust – and with how sensitive, how turned on you are, you’re already seeing stars. His hands hold onto your waist, controlling the speed of your lovemaking, as you press your hands against the shower wall, bracing yourself. You want him everywhere, all around you, consuming you with every fiber of his being, as if all you can do is hold yourself up and let him know how good he’s making you feel.

Carmy’s lips are on your neck, leaving love bites across your shoulders, murmuring sweet nothings about how well you take him and how good you feel. And then he’s speeding up the pace of each thrust, pulling you back towards him. His hands are all over you: pressing you back against his chest, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples as he takes care of you.

His wife.

The mother of his child.

The love of his life.

You turn your head just enough so that you can kiss him as Carmy’s hand reaches up to cup your face, making sure that he can kiss you properly too. This time you’re standing up taller, grinding against him, wanting to touch your husband more than you need to hold yourself up against the wall. Your hand slips behind you, grabbing at whatever parts of him that you can, bracing yourself against him, as if you could get Carmy even closer to you, while the other is guiding his across your body, your fingers tangled together.

He’s perfect.

This is perfect.

It’s what you’ve been aching for all damn day.

“I need you, Carm,” you moan into his mouth, as the consistent feel of him thrusting in and out of you has you delirious.

"You have all of me, baby,” he reassures you in the tenderest tone of voice he can muster, his other hand resting just underneath your breasts as he fucks you.

"More."

"More?"

He’s not sure what ‘more’ could mean at this moment, but the dirty talk is so hot that he’s more than willing to find out. He slows down his pace, dragging his cock in and out of you and the most delicious pace.

"Yes,” you pant, pulling away from the searing kiss, your head hanging low. Your hands return to the shower wall as you arch your back, bending at the hips so that you can take him deeper as you add:

“I want to make you a daddy."

His hips stutter for a second, caught off guard by what you’ve just said.

"You-you are, sweetheart,” he chuckles, slowing his pace down for a moment as he watches himself disappear inside of you over and over again.

“Carmy,” you groan, in response to his change pace.

You’re grinding your ass against him, begging him to speed up, but his hands return to your hips, stopping you.

The sight alone, and what you’ve just said, he thinks to himself, might kill him.

You whine as Carmy brings his movements to a halt, trying to get him to fuck you again. But he can’t let what you’ve just said go unrecognized as he stills your hips.

"What was that? You like walking around like this, hmm? Everyone knowing what I've done to you?" he asks you, holding your hips so that you can’t move.

You’ll give him anything to get what you want.

Even if it means saying it again.

“Yes, baby,” you sigh, and Carmy lets out another moan as you squeeze around him.

“I want to make you a daddy. Just fuck me. Please.”

“Oh fuck,” Carmy mutters, knowing he’s not going to last much longer if you keep that up.

He pulls out of you, and before you can protest, he’s slamming back into you in a way that makes you sob. He sets a brilliant pace this time, and you're arching your back, pressing your hands against the wall even harder – and all you can do, all you want to do, is take it. Hearing you chant his name over and over takes over him. He’s a man determined, with a single-minded focus on giving you exactly what you want.

He’s reduced you to a moaning, mumbling mess, as you chase both of your orgasms.

“Touch me, Carmy,” escapes your lips, and he’s more than happy to oblige, his fingers immediately coming to your clit.

He’s so goddamn talented, using his cock and his hands to make you fall apart.

You feel a familiar coil in your belly, and with the way you’re squeezing around him, Carmy can tell your close.

“Come on, sweet girl. Go ahead and let go for me,” his voice sturdy, confident, strong.

And seconds later, your eyes slam shut as you’re crying out his name, falling over the edge as your husband pulls the most delicious orgasm from your body.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.”

He’s right behind you – literally and figuratively – as Carmy’s thrusts become more erratic, finally letting go after exercising an impossible level of self control. He spills inside of you with a grunt, holding you against him as he pauses.

Breathless, you throw your head back, grateful that his shoulder is there to catch you. With the slightest turn of your head, you’re able to kiss him, placing the gentlest kiss against the corner of his mouth before Carmy’s hand comes up to lift your chin towards him again, so that he can kiss you properly.

“Holy shit, Bear,” you sigh, a sense of relief washing over you.

“Yeah,” he pants, trying to catch his breath with you.

You both take a beat, a moment to let your brains catch up with your bodies, just holding onto each other – savoring the way it feels to be in each others’ arms.

“I should uh… I should probably still shower,” Carmy starts, beginning to come back down to earth.

You turn back towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck, entertaining him with slow, lazy kisses in between words.

“But why don’t you dry off and get into bed?” Carmy suggests, using a quiet yet direct tone, almost as if it’s an order.

It’s as if he knows that, though the last orgasm he’d just given you had been world-rocking, there’s no way in hell you’ll be satiated today with just one.

“Really?” you ask, hopefully with a giggle.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Heard, chef,” you tease him, eliciting a playful eye roll from him.

He releases you, giving you the time and space to wring out your hair and step out of the shower.

And as you do what he says, he rewards you for it, spending the rest of the afternoon with his face buried between your legs until he’s ready to go again.

“And we’ve got a special tonight. Lemon chicken piccata. We’re talkin’ major Berzatto family recipe, ok? So let’s make sure we’re talkin’ up, alright?” Richie announces, following it up with a reminder to all of his servers of the main talking point during tonight’s pre-shift meeting.

Carmy thinks he’s been stealthy as he attempts to sneak back into the restaurant, considering he’s thirty minutes late. He feels lucky that since everyone is preoccupied with the pre-shift meeting that they couldn’t possibly notice him slipping in this late. He hears the meeting end, making a mental note that tonight’s mise has been done right, praying that tonight’s service goes smoothly.

He has, afterall, been using up a lot of extra energy lately….

“Hey, Jeffrey. We were wondering when you’d be in tonight,” Tina comments, as she returns to the kitchen, ready to lead service tonight.

“Oh uh, yeah. Sorry, got caught up with some stuff,” he mumbles, avoiding her gaze as he doesn’t have an excuse or a cover story.

“Mmmhhhmmmm,” she sounds, passing him by, because it’s no secret what Carmen Berzatto’s been up to lately.

“Yo, cousin!” Carmy calls out, in search of Richie.

Carmy makes his way into the dining room, and as soon as Richie sees him, knowing what time it is – knowing that Carmy’s running late – he smirks. A blush runs over Carmy’s cheeks as Richie shakes his head with a laugh.

It’s as if Richie can see right through him, and suddenly, Carmy’s feeling incredibly exposed.

Richie wags a finger at his cousin, his laugh beginning to build.

“Ahhhh man, cousin,” he sighs, an amused look on his face as he continues. “No one warned ya, huh?”

“I-,” Carmy starts, searching for any and all excuses he could make up on the spot, to no avail.

“Men can’t resist a pregnant woman. Sheesh. Enjoy it while you can, jagoff.”

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springtyme · 10 months

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Hi I was wondering if I could get your thoughts or maybe a short NSFW fic on how Richie would be during sex? He seems so sweet and thoughtful from season 2 so I’m thinking he’s a tender “making love” kinda guy but I’m not sure.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐡 ♡

I’d love to share my thoughts! ♡ I fully support the idea that this man is a “making love” kinda guy (but he definitely also knows how to fuck) The Richie playlist

Richie Jerimovich x afab!reader (18+ mdni!)

word count: 1.k

This man loves sex. Not in a ‘likes to get his dick wet’ kind of way (not that there's anything wrong with that). He just really loves the act of having sex with you, the person he loves. He loves the intimacy it brings, the connection that is made through sex, the opportunity to melt together and feel utterly and completely engulfed with you.

He is the type of guy where taking care of the people he loves comes as second nature to him, and that would most definitely include sex too.

He loves to be able to give you pleasure. Whenever he feels insecure that he isn’t enough, or when he feels bad because he just doesn’t seem to be able to find the right words to express just how precious you are to him, and how much he truly loves you, he can at least show you, and make you feel just how devoted he is to you.

And he definitely knows what he’s doing too.

He is a man who’s had enough experience before you got together to know just how to work you to satisfaction. Yet he is always earger to jump at any opportunity he gets to learn.

He loves learning about what really makes you feel good, taking mental notes on how you react to certain movements, and what angles and positions that always seem to get you extra fired up.

He listens and is always ready for some constructive feedback (not that he'll need a lot but it is always nice to know that you can talk free and openly about your sexlife with a partner).

He has his own insecurities, sometimes he’s afraid that he isn’t good enough for you, you are so perfect in his eyes and he is definitely not. He's scared that he will disappoint you somehow in your relationship, but how he is in the bedroom is never an area that he’s that concerned about. That is one area where he feels fully secure in his ability as a partner.

He loves exploring every single part of your body. He doesn’t get to do so as often as he’d like, though (which in his perfect world would be everyday).

Your days are often busy. With your job, and the restaurant and everything, it usually doesn't leave you with a lot of free time together most days. He usually works till late and you usually have to go to work early. But when the two of you have time to spend he really takes advantage of it. He prefers to have you climax at least two or three times before he even thinks about coming himself.

Shower sex is usually the solution for those busy days doing the work week. Either in the morning before you have to go to work or at night after he comes back home and need some stress relief after a hectic day at the restaurant.

But he prefers to have you in bed.

When it comes to positions I think he is a little sappy. Missionary is, and will just always be, his favorite. He just loves being able to see your face as he fucks you. You riding him comes as a close second though. But he will always be down to switch things up whenever you feel like it.

He would probably be really into the chairman too, he just loves how close it allows you to be to each other. He’ll sit at the edge of your bed, with you on his lap as he leaves open-mouthed kisses to your exposed throat as the back of your head rest against his shoulder, and your back is pressed into his chest. He’ll always make sure to sit in a spot that gives him a view of the two of you in the full-length mirror on your wardrobe doors.

Seeing you bounce on his cock like this, while his fingers plays with your clit always has him go a little feral, and he’ll fuck up into you from beneath, meeting each of your bounces and have you scream out with pleasure.

I imagine him having a bit of an oral fixation. Like he just loves having his mouth on you; gently nibbling your earlobe, leaving hickeys on your neck and collarbone, biting your lower lip as he kisses you silly, sucking your tits, you name it.

Loves to kiss you through your orgasms. Like you’ll ride him and as your pussy clamps down on his dick as you come, he’ll gently guide your head down so he can kiss you and feel the vibrations of your moans on his lips as he fuck up into you while you milk his cock as the two of you come together.

Loves going down on you. Like this man eats pussy for the thrill of it. If he can have you sprawled out on your back for him as his face is buried between your legs, or have you sitting on his face with your thighs squeezed around him then he’s a happy man.

Anytime he’s with you he is a happy man though.

And he is such a cuddler afterward. He’ll hug you close to his chest as he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead–everywhere he can reach really.

He loves to just lie naked with you in his arms, your warm soft skin against his as you both come down from your highs. Basking in the afterglow as the world around you pauses for a moment.

And once he’s got his senses about him he’ll pamper you. Need a damp towel, or would you like for him to run you a warm bath? A glass of water? Maybe a snack? Whatever it is he’s got you. Even if you insist that you don’t need it he’ll get it for you.

So, yeah... That was just a few of my thoughts on the topic lol.

I’ve always had a feeling that he’d be such a giving partner in both romantic and sexual situations and I feel season two just has confirmed that further.

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich headcanon #richie the bear #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich x you #the bear #the bear fx #the bear imagine #richie jerimovixh x you #the bear headcanon #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear fic #the bear x reader #springtyme writes

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thatone-brightstar · 7 months

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Amy's kinktober alphabet blurbs w/ special guest Carmy Berzatto! (1/6)

a/n: This is my first kinktober ever and I want to make it extra fun for both of us (me and you lol). So I'm gonna share some blurbs and the one you like the most will get a full oneshot at the end of the month!

Don't forget to like and repost or comment with the one you like the most! PS. lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Minors DNI, p in v unprotected sex (birth control is mentioned), creampie, choking, semi public, oral sex (both f and m recieving) I'll add more tags as they add up.

A is for: Anywhere.

Carmy couldn’t keep his hands off you in the new apartment. He wanted you everywhere and anywhere, couch, kitchen bar, shower; it was all the same. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good he felt buried deep in you even as he had you pinned against the newly arrived sofa. Strong arms caged you between the soft plush and the constant snap of his hips, each thrust pushed your belly deeper into the material, until you almost felt like he was breaking you in two.

B is for: Babies.

The idea always got you flustered, especially once when you saw Carmy carry around Nat’s baby on one of your visits to their home. As soon as you arrived at your place, you couldn’t take your hands off him. The belt around his hips clinged loudly as you pushed the denim down to the floor, lungs burning from the lack of air.

‘I’m gonna make you a daddy’ you mumbled through spit stained lips, barely making it into the bedroom.

‘Oh yeah?’ He answered back, too hot and bothered for his own good. ‘That what you want? Fuck you so good and come all inside you?’

C is for: Costumes.

The witch costume you had chosen for Halloween didn’t make it past the living room. The hat had been clumsily discarded to the side and the fishnets covering your legs were left with more holes than necessary, fifteen minutes after he walked through the door.

‘We’re gonna- fuck- we’re gonna be late-’ You struggle to say through the quick snap of his hips.

‘They can wait-’ Carmy answered back and hoisted your leg up around his hips even higher, cock pounding inside at a new angle that made you lose your breath, forehead falling over his heaving chest. ‘Atta girl-’ He groans near your ear. ‘-you can take it.’

D is for: Dress.

It was his favorite one. Green silk gown, with a slit up your left thigh, that complimented your skin tone beautifully. It was only worn on special occasions and when you knew you had more than enough time to have it bunched around your hips and with his face buried deep between your folds. Carmy’s hands kept your thighs open despite the multiple tremors that tried to snap them shut. Bright eyes looked up teasingly, glistening chin covered in your slik as the undone tie balanced over his puffing chest.

______________

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat, @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13

#carmen berzatto x reader #kinktober #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #carmy berzatto smut #kinktober 2023 #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fx #the bear tv #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #the bear fic #the bear headcanon

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cloudy-em · 8 months

Text

No One Else - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

very loosely based on "No One Else" from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812

xxxxx

When Carmen was first invited to the charity event, he was nervous. He didn't want to be outside his comfort zone with a bunch of celebrity strangers. He'd much prefer to be at The Bear, overseeing everything and making sure everything could run smoothly (or as smoothly as possible). He wanted to make an appearance, and the charity was a good one dedicated to childhood education, but the idea of having to go through it alone was what made him almost check the "Cannot Attend" box on the RSVP form.

What stopped him was the "Plus One" box.

He wishes he could say he muddled over who to bring for hours; Sugar? Sydney? Marcus? But he didn't have to think for a second. He checked the box and wrote your name without hesitation.

The night of the event, he felt his nerves bubbling in his chest. He must've checked his tie so many times while standing at your door. He heard your apartment door open before he saw you, but when he did, his jaw nearly dropped.

Seeing you all dressed up was never something he had the pleasure of viewing, but holy shit if he could see you looking like this every Friday night, he'd go to every fancy event he could.

"You look," he paused, swallowing and looking for the right word. He wanted to say stunning or gorgeous but those words didn't feel appropriate for a coworker he wasn't supposed to be in love with. "Great!" He finally finished, internally kicking himself for his word choice.

"You ready to go?" he asked, needing to move on quickly from that exchange.

"Yes, chef!" You smiled teasingly. He never thought hearing those words would make a blush rise in his cheeks.

xxxxx

Upon arriving to the event, which was being hosted in a hotel ballroom, Carmen found himself getting more nervous. He wasn't exactly sure what to expect from something like this. He felt your arm wrap around his, your other hand patting his forearm in an act of comfort. He took a deep breath, allowing himself just a bit of relaxation.

As it turned out, events like these weren't as stressful as he thought they would be. There were a couple of boxes and iPads spread across a table where attendees could make donations and most of the evening was spent with various artists and students presenting their work. Buying something from them would result in a percentage going towards the charity. Carmen felt himself relax as the night went on. Upon seeing a 16 year old's painting of bread, you practically begged Carmen to buy it for The Bear.

What he wanted to tell you was that you didn't need to beg. He'd do anything for you.

You made most of the conversation for the evening, and Carmen didn't know if it was because you were excited or because you knew he was on edge. Either way, he was grateful for your conversation skills. You'd move around the large space, starting conversations with whomever you could, and Carmen couldn't help but stare at you from afar. It was like a spotlight was always on you in his mind; it never took him long to find you amongst the crowd, and whenever he spotted you, it looked like you were positively glowing.

xxxxxxx

Carmen walked you to your door, smiling and chuckling lowly as you chattered excitedly.

"-and then she said that she once went for a walk across the entire state of Wisconsin, picking up any trash she saw on her route! Isn't that amazing, Carm?" He nodded and hummed, really only half listening. You noticed - of course you noticed - and paused. "You okay?"

Carmen felt his cheeks warm. "Y-Yeah!" he stuttered slightly. "'M all good."

You nodded suspiciously. "Alright, well, thank you for taking me with you tonight! I had a really good time. I'm sure it wasn't easy to pick who was going to go with you-"

"It was easy to choose you," he interrupted without hesitation, once again wanting to kick himself when the words tumbled out of his mouth. He saw your cheeks flush, and avoided making eye contact.

"Oh, wow, why's that?" You asked, curious as to what his answer might be.

He took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"When I'm with you, I feel peace," he sighed. "Like the world is just you and I..." he trailed off.

"...and no one else," you finished for him. "Oh, Carmy. You're the sweetest thing!"

You opened your door, turning back around to peck him on the cheek.

"Well, goodnight, I s'ppose," you paused. "Unless you'd like to stay for a while?"

Carmen once again didn't hesitate, and he entered your apartment for the night.

#fanfic #writing #the bear fanfiction #the bear #carmy the bear #the bear hulu #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carm berzatto #the bear s2 #the bear headcanon #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #fanfiction

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 7 months

Text

Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 2

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You spend your Sunday afternoon with Carmy, by your side, trying to make sense of the piles of disorganized paperwork. You finally have a chance to ask what happened to his brother, only to regret it after finding out the answer. You start to realize you might be there for more than just financial guidance.

Warnings: Angst, Suicide mentions, Alcohol.

A/n: I'm really excited writing this series. It's been awhile since writing something like this. I hope you guys enjoy it and please let me know what you think! Any feedback would be amazing. If there's any other ideas you have in mind about our Carmy, my requests are open!

Here's chapter one, if haven't read yet.

Enjoy :)

It was a Sunday evening, and after officially a week of being at 'The Original Beef of Chicagoland,' you were no were nowhere closer to telling Carmy the legal or financial status of his restaurant.

It took you half the week to just organize the random letters and scraps of paper laying in boxes. With that, there was still portions missing.

Carmy came through the swinging doors with two plates. He placed your plate on the desk and scooted a chair closer to you. He felt bad about dropping this bomb on you. But even worse now, because you came in every day this week to get on top of this mess.

When he found out that you were coming in today, there was no doubt that he was coming in too, even though the restaurant was closed. He didn't say anything though, knowing you would try and convince him not to come in.

You looked up and gave him a grateful smile picking up the plate of pasta and swapping your pen for a fork.

"Don't go too hard on me. It's whatever I could lay my hand on." He said with his mouth half full.

You rolled my eyes, like you were going to be judging him on his culinary skills right now. Especially, after everything you saw in the previous job.

You stabbed the penne pasta with your fork and shoved it in your mouth, not really caring about the taste. You started to notice how hungry you really were. The taste was the last thing on your mind. Saying that, it was delicious.

You both sat in silence, scoffing down the food as fast as possible. Carmy took the cleared plates from you and worked his way back to the kitchen.

As he rinsed the last bit of suds off the plates, he paused a moment and went over to the mini fridge in the corner of the kitchen. He took out two chilled bottles, thinking that you need something to help you relax after searching through piles of paper all day.

After a few moments, he popped back through the doors with two beers in his hand.

"Thanks." You smiled, taking the cold beer from him.

"I wish we had somethin' stronger than this, but 'aven't found my brother's hidden stash yet." Carmy put the lip of the bottle on the edge of the desk and slammed his hand down on it.

The cap popped off and fell onto the ground and he took a swig of his beer.

"He has one?" You asked, trying the same move as he just did with his bottle.

You slammed your hand onto it but at the wrong angle. Your hand ended up punching the desk and you felt the pain traveling up your arm.

"Fuck" You muttered wincing.

You look over to see Carmy holding back a smile and reached over to take the bottle off of you.

"Very smooth" He broke into a snicker before doing the same maneuver on your bottle with ease.

"Fuck you" You smirked back, snatching the bottle off of him and bringing it to your mouth.

You looked over to see him leaning back on the chair with his legs straight out in front of him. Your feet leaning against his awkwardly in the smallest office in Chicago.

"How's Nick?" He asked, playing with the beer label.

"Uh.. I wouldn't know" You were caught off guard by the question. Since coming into town, you and him haven't really had the chance to talk about anything other than work.

"We broke up a year ago." You eventually said taking a glance up at him.

Thank fuck, he thought to himself

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know" He hummed taking another drink.

"Nah, it's fine. The relationship was past its expiry. It was becoming toxic as hell." You glanced up at him with a soft smile.

"You were right though" You continued after a moment of silence.

Carmy looked up with slight confusion, wondering what you were talking about.

"He was lying to me, about... well pretty much everything." You explained, feeling the sinking feeling in your heart.

You remembered finding out about all the lies. That the person you had spent so much time with had lied about everything good in his life. You didn't know him at all.

A memory sparked in Carmy's mind, he was back in New York. He was at a bar with you. After begging him week after week to go out for a drink with you, he gave in. Too many beers later, he blurted out his real thoughts on Nick. Looking back, he couldn't help but cringe on the way he acted. He couldn't even remember the exact words he said. But he remembers your reaction and the hurt in her eyes.

"W-What did I even say?" Carmy asked, squinting his eyes trying to think back harder.

You thought back to the memory. The loud music, sticky bar table and Carmy's messy hair across from you. You remember smelling beer on his breath and his words were slightly slurred. The haze in his eyes was getting thicker.

"Um.. you said that Nick was full of shit." You recalled and then smiled to yourself when you remembered more.

"And I quote 'He's playing you like a fuckin' fiddle'" Feeling a smirk climb onto your face.

Carmy rubbed his mouth down with his hand trying to hide his smile. But a smile broke through anyway.

"Jesus, I really have a way with words." He scoffed to himself, taking another gulp from the bottle.

You quietly laughed, bringing the beer up to your mouth.

Carmy brought his hand to his hair to scratch his head. He felt ashamed for his raw words. But he was grateful that you didn't hold it against him.

To say he struggled socially would be an understatement. He felt too awkward sometimes, to the point where he would be uncomfortable. Over the years of moving the way he did, he rarely had more than one or two friends at most. Those friends were mostly work colleagues.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" You asked bringing him out of thought.

He nodded, putting his empty beer bottle on the desk.

"How did your brother..." You trailed off, not knowing how to phrase your question.

"He killed himself, shot himself in the head," Carmy's said bluntly, crossing his arms avoiding eye contact with you. His stare never leaving the floor.

You stared at him and didn't say a word. For some reason, you just thought he died in a car accident. Your mind went blank for a moment only to realise what Carmy might be going through.

"Fuck Carmy, I'm so sor-"

"Don't." He interrupted, shaking his head.

"It's fine. Really." He shrugged getting up abruptly to the point it startled you a little.

He grabbed his empty beer bottle and gestured at you to see if you wanted another one.

You nodded absent-minded, still digesting the bomb he dropped on you.

He went to the kitchen and shook his head in annoyance while walking to the fridge. He felt like a shithead saying something like that so plainly. He didn't want to scare you away. It didn't help that he walked away straight after saying it.

Well fuckin' done, smooth as always, he thought to himself on his way to the fridge.

He came back with two new bottles and cracked them open with ease again. He placed yours on the desk in front of you.

You both sat there, not saying a word. He was never the type that was good with words. Usually talking got him into more trouble. His family were blunt and to the point. No feelings were ever spared in the household. He didn't want to be that way. Since moving away, he always made an effort to get better at communicating.

You looked over to see his leg shaking non stop. It was dumb for you to bring up his brother. You could have asked anyone else, and they would have told you.

You gulped down the last of your first one and pushed it onto the desk. Carmy held the neck of the bottle, resting it between his legs. He shifted in his seat, making you glance over at him.

"I didn't mean to unload this on you. For some reason, I thought you knew. It's fuckin' stupid for me to think that." He leaned forward resting his arms on his thighs.

"I-I'm sorry," He continued, resting his hand on your arm, looking up through his lids.

You looked down at his hand on your arm, the warmth of his hand on your wrist.

"You're the last person that's should apologise." You gave a weak smile resting your hand on top of his.

You both sat there, not saying anything. The peace you felt between both of you was something you missed since going your separate ways. You notice that his leg shake slowed down to a halt.

"If you need someone, you know I'm here, right?" You angled your head making sure to keep eye contact.

"Yea- yeah I know" He nodded pulling away and leaning back into his chair.

Since moving back to Chicago, he hasn't had a moment to himself to think. He didn't know if he even wanted one. He felt that if he stopped for one brief moment, that everything would catch up. His thoughts, feelings and grief. Him being next to you, gave him comfort. Having someone who knew him before his life turned into a shitshow. His old life where it was stressful but not chaotic. Not the way it is now.

He took out his pack of cigarettes, taking one out before turning the pack to you.

You quit smoking a year ago but didn't have the heart to deny his offer, especially after the heart wrenching conversation. You took one and got up from your seat grabbing the coat from the chair. You followed him out behind the building. His cigarette held between his lips as his zipped up his wool jacket shielding him from the sharp breeze. It was becoming dark, the fall evenings really settling in Chicago.

Carmy searched his pockets and pulled out a pink transparent lighter, flicking it with his thumb a couple of times before a small flame emitted from it. A glow was cast on his face, with the end of his smoke burning bright orange.

You gazed at him with the weight of guilt in your stomach. You started to think that maybe you weren't just there for management guidance. Maybe you were there for support. It was hard to tell, Carmy was never the type to speak his thoughts. That's what made this so difficult. How do you ask someone about something so sensitive?

You gave a quick smile as he leaned the lighter to you. You inhaled watching the cigarette catch a light before feeling the smoke travel down to your lungs. You exhaled letting out a sigh of relief, forgetting the bliss that smoking gave you. He looked up with his lip curled at the end blowing smoke out his nose.

"It's been awhile" You looked over smiling softly.

He gave a slight nodded, scratching his upper lip with his thumb while holding the cig.

Your denim jacket wasn't doing you any favors in this unforgiving cold, you brought your arms closer to your body. You didn't think Chicago was going to be this cold into Fall and took note that you needed to buy a heavier one.

"How long can you stay?" He asked walking over and sitting down to the weathered wooden bench.

You take a seat beside him thinking about your response.

"Uhhh, great question." You licked your lips after another pull.

How do you break it to him that you lost your job 3 months ago.

You clicked your pen over and over, sitting in the office on a late weeknight. As you looked at the roster for the upcoming weeks you double checked the bookings to make sure enough staff was around for the busy season to come. With people taking their PTO, it was a challenge every year that always left you with a nightmare to figure out. The knock on the door broke your focus and you looked up to see Vince popping his head in.

"Hey Vince" You smiled leaning back on the office chair.

"Hey" He closed the door behind him gently and you noticed something off immediately.

"How's things going?" He asked with soft tone stuffing his hands into his back pockets.

"Just the usual, it's the time of the nightmare PTO" You chuckled lightly.

"What's up?" You glanced at the clock on the wall noticing this was an off time for him to check in, 10pm on a Tuesday night.

He took a deep breath but keeping his gaze on the ground. You felt your stomach turn from the sudden change in atmosphere.

"I-I don't know how to say this." He stuttered.

Now you were real concerned, you sat up watching him. He was only a shadow of his usual self. The bearded man who would put a smile on your face when just being around his presence. He would check in on everyone to make sure there was no issues. He helped you become who you are today with everything he thought you when it came to managing a bustling restaurant.

"Marie, she's been diagnosed with ....cancer." His voice broke, you could tell he was holding back.

"What?" You said to yourself in disbelief. You saw her last week when she came in to check in. She looked fine, totally normal.

"But-" You stopped not wanting to say anything to upset him.

"Did you get a second opinion?" You asked after a moment, hearing about misdiagnoses can be a thing.

He nodded looking down at the ground. You could tell he was barely keeping it together. They've been together for decades and you knew this hit him to his core.

"It's stage 4" He whispered keeping his eyes on the floor.

You stared at him, not understanding the words coming out of his mouth. You've known them for years. You've grown as a manager here. You've been through the ups and downs, through the surreal covid time.

"I'm so sorry Vince-" You said sympathetically, getting up from the chair to try and comfort him.

He went on to tell you that they would have to shutdown the restaurant for the foreseeable future if not for good. They didn't have enough time nor money to keep the restaurant going and treat his wife for however long she had left. You started recommending things that might help them but it seemed that the decision was already made.

You watch him leave the office sorrowfully and in that instant felt completely lost. The roster that you were making, didn't matter. The new menus that were freshly printed on your desk didn't matter. You could hear Vince muffled voice from the kitchen. Most likely telling the rest of the staff the devastating news.

Two weeks later, you closed up the restaurant for the last time. After spending years there, you had no backup plan. It was completely unexpected.

The honking of a car down the street snapped you out of your trance.

"The thing is.." you paused flicking the ash off your cigarette.

"Vince shut up shop a couple of months ago" You blew smoke out of your mouth.

"What?" Carmy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

You nodded dropping the butt on the ground smooshing it with you boot.

"Marie got cancer, terminal" You stated remembering the last phone conversation you had with Vince.

He sounded weak on other end of the phone. You called to check in knowing they needed all the support right now. He told you that she was in a hospice, making her comfortable and waiting for the inevitable.

"Last time I spoke to him, he said she only had a month left at most" You scrunched up your lips, your feelings whelming up inside.

Carmy sat there. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to tell him after everything he's been through but when it came to Marie passing you didn't want to shock him.

"Shit" He whispered, his head dropped.

You brought your hand over and rubbed his back. You didn't want to deliver the bad news but keeping something like that from him wasn't right either.

You could feel tears pricking up in your eyes and wiped them away quickly. You had no right to cry right now. You wanted to be there for Carmy.

Both of you sat there in silence. You wondered what he was thinking and wanted to not make him feel worse than he probably already did.

"I remember when you first started." You smiled to yourself while the memory ran through your mind.

"You came in so focused on what Vince was telling you. You wouldn't talk to anyone. You get in, do your work, stay late and then go home." You chuckled lightly to yourself.

You remember watching him as he watch Vince guided him. He would hang onto every word Vince said, like his life depended on it. People would crack jokes here and there especially when it was a slow night but Carmy wouldn't even crack a smile. He wasn't there to fuck around.

"I remember that one dick that screamed at me in front of a 12 top after his food was delayed and Vince came out and gave him an earful, 'emeber that?" You reminisced

Carmy sat back up and nodded, half smiling.

"I just remember being in the walk in and you burst in crying." He commented glancing over at you.

"I didn't even notice you were there at first. I was just in shock from getting screamed at in front of everyone"

You remembered looking over and seeing him with a container of sauce, frozen in place and staring at you completely startled. He came over asking what happened and through the sobbing you explained. Carmy gave you some words of reassurance knowing the bastard that screamed at you was just a cruel prick. It was the first time you talked to each other and it was nice to know he wasn't a complete robot.

He remembered seeing you in such distress with your eyes red and swollen. After hearing about what happened, he wanted to go in front and tell the motherfucker to get out of the restaurant. But he knew Vince was handling it. He never spoke much to you, but knew that you were nothing but nice to him and that you didn't deserve to be treated that way. Nobody deserved that.

After that day, Carmy and you would share some words through the shift and then those words turn to conversations which eventually lead to both of you hanging out at work.

"Wanna go back in?" Carmy nodded towards the door.

You both return to normal temperatures where you dethaw from being outside way longer than you should have been.

You made your way back to the office still wearing your jackets feeling the stiffness in your hands from the cold. You leaned over to checked your phone for it to light up, 7:30pm.

"Today flew by" You stretched out feeling the effects of sitting at a desk majority of the day. The cold didn't help either.

"Oh, so you never answered my question" Carmy rubbed his hands together to get some friction heat going.

"Uh... " You thought for a moment and clicked into what he was on about.

After coming to the realization that you were going to be jobless, you sat with the idea of maybe staying that way for awhile. You haven't taken any time off for summer in years. You thought if you didn't do it now that you never have another chance.

Your phone screen light up beside you on the couch, with a number you didn't recognize. You paused the movie and picked it up and hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey, uhh.. it's Carmy" A smile immediately popped up on your face hearing the familiar voice on the other end.

It was a pleasant surprise and totally unexpected for you to hear from him. He explained the situation he was in and that he would really appreciate if you could stay for awhile to help him in any way. You thought to yourself about how it would be nice to visit an old friend. He explained he wouldn't be able to pay you right now but if he would figure something out. Money wasn't the issue. You had a nice little nest egg to fall back on for the unanticipated free summer you were going to have.

He asked if Vince would mind, giving you sometime off to help, even if it was for a couple of days. You avoided the topic and said that you could work something out. You were thankful that he didn't challenge you and accepted the answer.

"Oh staying yeah... well my flight is booked for the end of next week".

You saw a flash of disappoint in his face before he looked down at his hands. You didn't want to look too much into his reaction, but seeing him that way ping something in your chest for a split second.

"But.. if paperwork isn't sorted by then, I can always reschedule my flight" You offered with a smile.

"Yea, yeah of course. I don't wanna take you away from anythin' that you have going back home..." He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Carmy, I'm literally unemployed right now." You said bluntly glaring at him before breaking into a snicker.

"Anyway let's just wait til' the middle of the week and then I'll decide if I need more time." You explained, breaking into a yawn.

"Heard." Carmy nodded.

"Anyway, it's getting pretty late so I think it's time to close up" He stuffed his hands in this pockets, turning towards the swinging doors.

You started putting away the paperwork you were looking at, leaving the desk in a somewhat tidy state for the morning. Carmy did a round on the kitchen to double check everything was off before making his way back to the office.

It felt like nothing had changed between you two. After years of both you doing your own thing, when it came down to you both chilling, everything was the same. He watched you tidy up and could imagine this being the norm, you working here permanently. He instantly knew that you would slide right into this place. How easy it was for you to read people and get on with them. He also didn't want to have any expectation on you though.

It would be crazy to think just after 2 weeks you would even consider moving to Chicago for a job that wouldn't be paying you for God knows how long. He felt at ease when you were around him. Saying goodbye to that when you leave was going to be hard on him. But he didn't have time to lay on his feelings. There was a million things that still needed to get done in the restaurant. The restaurant that felt like it was going to crumble to the ground any second. He would be the one to witness it. He would be the one with the burden on his shoulders. Not Mikey.

Carmy pulled the door to check it was locked and stuffed the keys in his pocket. You both looked at each other giving a small smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Chef" You added taking a step back.

"See ya, Boss" Carmy developed an amused look turning down towards to street.

You rolled your eyes playfully and started walking further down the side walk crossing your arms, trying to keep your jacket as close to you as possible.

Carmy walked home feeling better than usual. Normally, he was always thinking about the next day and want needed to be done. What could make the restaurant more money. But, he caught himself not doing that, instead he was thinking about the evening he just spent with you.

His mind drifted back to the memories of him and you back in New York. Memories that he hasn't thought about it a long time. As much as he hated asking for help, he was glad he reached out to you. He was grateful that you were able to come out.

When he arrived home, he took off his jacket, kicked off his shoes and fell back onto the couch. He flicked through the channels not really paying attention to what he was watching. He felt his eyelids get heavy and within minutes he was asleep. It must have been the first time since moving back from New York that he fell asleep with such ease.

Chapter 3

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