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#AHH.... started writing this thing this morning and then i got massively carried away. typical
carmyboobear · 1 month
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Idk if you've written this but can you write about carmy and the reader arguing and he makes her cry? Idk I just feel like thatd be good angst fluff lol
AHH I got carried away as per usual. anyway this is good stuff. wrote a bunch. enjoy!!
word count: 1.3k
tags: traumatized carmy, mentally ill carmy and reader, arguing, language, HURT/COMFORT, ANGST/FLUFF, carmy being a sweetie
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Hm…i'm spending a lot of time thinking about the set-up for this. Carmy is a very careful person when it comes to those he’s romantically involved in, but at the same time, he has a hard time controlling his temper when he's in the darkness, as i'll put it. 
here's something awful i think about that i wanna write about. carmy's stressed about work, because of course he is. he's carmy. his head is whirring, spinning with anxiety and self-hatred. i think you're just like him. mentally ill for mentally ill if you will. you're also in a bad mood, and he comes home from The Bear exhausted and keyed up.
“I hate when you push me away like this,” you admit. You've been trying to get him to talk to you since he's been home. Maybe he just needs space, but separation makes you anxious. Especially when he shuts down. 
“I'm sorry that it's so hard for you,” he spits, finally snapping and turning to face you. You've followed him into the dark bedroom, lit only by the harsh moonlight through the window. You flinch. You never quite get used to seeing him like this. 
“I—I just—“ you feel pressure beginning in the back of your eyes. You will it away. “How can I help you if you don’t talk to me?”
“Why do you care so much? Does it make you feel better to take care of someone more fucked up than you?” He snaps, voice raised. His words go down bitter, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. Something in you shatters.
“How could you ask me that?” Your vision’s gone hot and blurry. “I’m your partner. I love you, that’s why I care, you asshole!” You’re stifling sobs. You hate crying in fights like this, but it hurts. You can’t help it.
“Fuck,” Carmy mutters under his breath. He’s gone still in your blurred vision. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—“
“That was so fucked up, Carmy.” You move to sit on the bed, trying to wipe your tears away, but they keep coming. “What’s your problem?”
“You know what my problem is.” His remorse has swept away the anger, leaving him quiet before you. He leans down at your knees, hands on your thighs. “I shouldn’t have said that. Any of that.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Carmy nods quickly, and he raises a hand to your wet cheeks. “Fuckin’ asshole.”
“I know.” He takes your pain, your anger in its entirety. His other hand brings your knuckles to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.“
“Sure sounded like you meant it.” Anger flares up in your chest, hurt and betrayed, but you tamp it down, leaning into his hand cradling his face. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Damnit, Carmy.”
“I know. I know.” He’s still kissing your hand. “You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” You hate it when he talks like this, because you can tell he really believes it.
“Don’t say that. Please.” 
“But it’s true.” You look down at him in the moonlight, at his sad blue eyes. “I always find ways to hurt you. I…”
“That’s what being in a relationship is, Carm.” You pat the space next to you. “Sit with me?”
“I keep having to remind myself of that.” He sinks into the bed next to you. “I’m so sorry for talking about you like that. Like you’re only doing this out of…I don’t know. Obligation.” He drags a hand across his tired face. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry. I just, I just think that—that I’m—fuck—“
“Slow down, Carm,” you say quietly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to force it. I’m listening.” He smiles bitterly at you, and you recognize the love in it easily. He takes in a deep breath before continuing. 
“I still have a hard time believing that anyone cares about me. I can’t even believe that you—love me.” You can practically see the shame rolling off of him in waves. “And it makes me scared.”
“Love is scary, isn’t it?” You say softly. He just nods. “It scares me, too. That’s why I kept pestering you when you got home. I…” You blink quickly. You don’t wanna cry again. “It scares me when I don’t know what you’re thinking. Because…I dunno. It just does.”
“Yeah?” You nod. He has this thoughtful expression that he holds for a moment as he stews on your words. “I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry. I think…I think when you kept asking me if I was okay, it…” he sighs, scratches at his temples. “I felt like I was…getting back into a corner. I think.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” You take his hand in yours. “I can see how that must’ve felt really bad.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault that I’m like this. I think—I think it just reminded me of my mom. We would always ask her if she was okay, because she’s fucking crazy, yknow? We didn’t wanna step on her toes. But it turns out we did anyway. And the way I acted just now, I was just like…” He can’t even get the words out. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, voice choked with emotion. “I love you. So much. You know that, right?”
“You tell me everyday. How could I not?” You pull him into a hug, tight and warm, and he instantly wraps his arms around you. “You’re not your mom, Carm. You're nothing like her. Okay?” 
“I don’t wanna be like her,” he whispers. “I don’t wanna be like her.”
“You’re not,” you remind him softly. “And you won’t be.”
Carmy leans back to look at you, but he remains close. His expression is knotted with pain. You run your thumb over his furrowed brow, and it makes his mouth curve upwards in a smile. It’s fleeting, but it was there. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’ll try to open up more. Let you know what I’m thinking.”
Suddenly, you think about when you first started dating Carmy. He was so scared to open up to you emotionally, but with gentle prodding, he fell apart instantly. There was a hunger in him to be known by others, to be seen by you, and it scared him to death. You see that same fear in him now, but you also see how much he’s grown since then. You doubt you would’ve been able to have this conversation at all in the first couple months. 
That makes you happy in a way you’re not quite able to word properly.
“Thank you. But I hope you also know I don’t want to force you. I just wanna help. And…” You measure your words carefully. “I’ll try not to let it freak me out so much. Because if you’re not in the mood to talk, I want you to know that’s okay. Okay?”
“Okay. I’d like that. If I don’t want to talk, I’ll just tell you. Instead of…blowing a fuse.” He laughs dryly. 
“I’d like that too.” You let out an exhale of relief you didn’t realize you were holding. “Wow, Carm. Look at us. Communicating!”
“I know.” That makes him laugh for real this time, and you’re laughing too. “I couldn’t do it without you.”
“I think you could. But I certainly like doing it with you.” His smiles grows wider at that, brimming with affection. 
“Let me make this up to you, baby.” He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and deep. You let out a little noise when his lips meet yours. 
“Make it up to me?” Carmy’s tongue is on your neck now. Oh. “Aren’t you tired? You—you have work tomorrow—?”
“Don’t care.” You fall back onto the bed, and the blankets deflate under you. You stare up at Carmy, his curls hanging by his face. “You’re more important.”
“Well, if you insist…” You giggle, and your giggles get louder when Carmy pulls up your shirt to blow raspberries against your stomach. “Carmy, quit it—oh—!”
He makes it up to you in full and more by keeping his head between your legs for the rest of the night. By the end of it you can't remember what you were mad about in the first place.
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