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donatellawritings · 3 months

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Rich to me is always the friends to lovers (everybody sees it but you two) it’s him yelling “behind” at everyone but sliding behind you with a hand on your hip “behind sweetheart” it’s you walking into the group of boys smoking outside & u bypass everyone to grab a smoke straight from his lips “thanks babe” it’s family having no empty chairs at the table so you sit on his lap while Syd & carm just stare. I think you’d bring my wish to life beautifully written. I need all the build up to the smut

can i just say that richie is definitely the type to be a jagoff to everyone, but never to you - everyone else knew how to work his last nerve, but you and your cutesy smile and bright eyes would make him all warm and fuzzy for sure

explicit sexual content ahead

it was no secret to anyone who worked at the restaurant (or had eyes) that you and richie had a ‘special’ kind of relationship. for starters, it wasn’t common for a hotheaded man, like richie jerimovich, to be so touchy and lovey-dovey with anyone. i mean, not even his ex-wife got to see that side of him often, and they shared a child. however there was something about you that just made richie feel as though he needed to be around you, protect you, handle you tenderly.

maybe it was because you were younger than him - fuck if he knew, all richie knew in his heart of hearts was that he had it bad for you.

things between you two started off gradually, “gotta get past you, sweetheart,” the older man rasped, the warm and calloused palm of his hand gently cradling the small of your lower back as he made his way past you, his tall frame easily reaching over you to grab ahold of a pot from the top cabinet.

you’d simply nod wordlessly, keeping your eyes trained forward in an effort to conceal the blush that rose to your cheeks.

after weeks of comfortability that increased between the two of you, you decided you’d test the waters. you’d watched carefully as he made his way out of the back door that led behind the building of the beef. quickly scanning over the not-so-busy environment of the restaurant, you walked away from the cash register, towards the back exit of the beef.

“i’ll be back in ten!” you called out, earning a mumble of approval from carmy and sydney who were entirely too engrossed in a conversation about expanding the menu.

the moment you’d exited the restaurant, the unforgiving cold winter chicago air bit at you, causing you to hiss as you quickly folded your arms tightly over your chest, your fitted ‘the beef’ t-shirt lifting a bit as you turned to find richie leaned against the brick wall.

he was so rugged and laid back, it drove you insane. his hoodie remained open, revealing the matching t-shirt that clung to his slim abdomen, one of his hands shoved in the pocket of his adidas track pants, while the other held a cigarette to his lips. richie didn’t notice your presence yet, too involved in a conversation with sweeps and marcus.

you’d decided it would be the perfect time to push the envelope, walking directly past marcus and sweeps as you approached richie, a flutter now swirling in your stomach as he raised his eyebrows at you, cigarette loosely held between his sharp teeth.

you two held eye contact for a beat, before you gently grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, before raising it to sit sit between the swell of your lips, taking a quick pull from the cigarette, “thanks babe,” you exhaled with a sweet close-mouthed smile.

all richie could do was swallow thickly, nodding to himself before he returned his attention back to the conversation at hand, softly swatting the side of your thigh when he decided that it was time for you to return the cigarette.

it was then, that things started to reach a whole new level of touchiness and couple-like actions between you and richie.

today was family. your second-most favorite day of the week, aside from payday. you were a bit late to the function, courtesy of your hair appointment, walking into the main room of the restaurant, instantly being greeted with a chorus of differing ‘hello’s’.

“hi, m’sorry for being late, my hair girl was late!” you rushed to explain, shrugging off richie’s your zip-up hoodie as you glanced around the room, seeing that all seats were occupied, “oh.”

sydney’s eyes widened as she shared the same realization, “fuck, uh, maybe we can get you an extra seat from the office, i-” she began, taking a bit too long, leaving richie no choice, but to come up with a solution of his own.

“s’nothing syd, she can sit with me,” richie spoke with a careless shrug, his mouth full of pasta as he looked up at you, swallowing his food before continuing, “c’mon, sweetheart.”

you obliged, your lips suddenly running dry as you walked towards richie’s seat, softly grabbing his outstretched hand as he gently guided your hips to sit comfortably against his.

you slightly shifted your hips, sending a shock to your clit as his bulge deliciously sat flush against your ass, “thanks, richie,” you muttered, focusing your gaze on the pasta dish that sat before you.

richie leaned back into his seat, the suddenly awkward silence of the dining room now becoming a bit too apparent to him. shaking his head, richie kept one of his arms loosely hung around you, before clearing his throat.

“yo, i don’t know why the fuck everyone is being fuckin’ quiet,” he huffed, his eyes now landing on carmy and sydney, before he sighed, “cousin, just say what the fuck you’re grateful for already!”

it wasn’t long before everyone returned to their normal conversations, about twenty minutes passing, before richie decided to lean in close to you, bringing his lips to your ear.

“m’ready to get the fuck outta here.”

and that’s how you ended up in the driver’s seat of richie’s car, his seat fully reclined back, one hand gripping the back of your neck, while the other guided your hips to bounce hard against his.

“ah, fuck - y’gonna make me cum in you if you keep fuckin’ me like that, sweetheart,” richie groaned, moving the hand that guided your hips to your back, pushing you further into his chest as he fucked up into you.

your face was in his neck, throaty moans and gasps leaving your lips as you sloppily kissed and sucked at the skin of his neck, the sound of your hips slapping into each other mixed with the squelch and slurp of your wet pussy taking his length leaving you a needy mess.

you were so close to reaching your peak, your pulsing hole clenching around richie’s dick as his thrust remained forceful and rough, “i can fuckin’ feel you around me, baby, y’want me to make you cum, yeah,” he chuckled, leaning his head against the headrest as he brought his hand to your hip, grinding your hips flush against his in circular motions.

“fuck, richie,” was all you could mewl through your gritted teeth, your stomach tight as your clit rubbed against the wet skin of his pelvis.

“keep ridin’ me, sweetheart,” he whispered, pecking your flexed temple as he forced your hips deeps against his, “just keep fuckin’ ridin’ me.”

yeah, your relationship with your coworker was far from orthodox, but neither of you seemed to get enough of it. nor, did you want to.

#dadbodfanatic-x #asks #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich fanfic #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich smut

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nolita-fairytale · 3 months

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pov: you're a record shop owner!reader dating carmen berzatto

a/n: i have full intentions on writing this as a oneshot but couldn't get it out in time for valentine's day so i wanted to have fun with a lil headcanon that would require less of my mental bandwidth. anyway, happy v-day carmy cuties!!

dating carmy as a record shop owner would be like:

in my head you meet at The Bear after a bad date. sydney, who you meet in the restroom takes pity on you and lets you sneak out of the back. you catch carmy on a smoke break and ask if you can bum a cigarette off of him. the two of you get to talking and you let him know you own a record store just a few blocks away. "you should stop by sometime."

of course, he doesn't. so a few weeks go by and just when you think there's no way he'll come by, a taller man, followed by sydney, is practically pushing him through the door under the guise of looking for the latest taylor swift record on vinyl.

you shoot the man a look (like there's no way in hell that a place like this carries taylor swift on vinyl but okay) and even though you don't have it, you offer to order it for him. the man, who you learn is called richie, goes to check out the rest of your shop, giving you, carmy, and sydney some time to talk.

you thank sydney again for helping you out. she does most of the talking but ends up inviting you to a movie thing in the park they're going to. you think, at least you'll make some new friends out of this, as you agree to go.

by the end of the hang, carmy finally musters up the courage to talk to you one on one, prompting you to make the first move by asking him out. and you know what they say. the rest is history.

okay so i'm thinking about the beautifuly agony of trying to make the perfect playlist for carmy when you decide that it's time and that you really, really like him. you spend a few days going back and forth over the perfect opener, closer, and what story you're trying to tell with the playlist. it can't be TOO 'i'm absolutely head over heels for you' but you want him to know that you're pretty damn infatuated.

you're pretty involved in the local live music community, so you're almost always going to a show. when carmy finally joins you for one, he's definitely hella anxious about it -- even though it's a smaller venue. but he wants to try for you!

making better memories at the bear beside your lackluster date. the first time you go back, you sit at the bar and get the colorful cast of characters that makes up the restaurant. the second time you go back, you bring your girlfriends for a girls' night and everyone is incredibly impressed by the food, the hospitality, and of course, you're very very cute exec chef boyfriend.

after your girls' night, you head over to your favorite bar, and carmy and syd meet you over there for drinks after their shift. you love the way your lives and worlds have begun to intertwine.

i'm thinking about these japanese-inspired hi-fi vinyl bars that keep popping up around the states and how if you decided to open one, carmy would be able to advise you on opening an entire bar?? OR as the bear expands its hospitality group, you outfit the bar with its vinyl collection.

the first time carmy cooks for you, you have the entire night's soundtrack picked out. you've spent all week thinking about which vinyls should underscore the night and it's filled with good food, great music, and even better sex.

i may add to this later today but wanted to get some of these thoughts out on metaphorical paper!!

#nolita fairytale's masterlist #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff

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miredball · 10 months

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sydney and carmy established relationship headcanons:

carmy’s a pet name guy. he’s been weaned on pet names his whole life (‘bear’ ‘sugar’ one could argue ‘cousin’). he uses the typical ‘baby’ for syd, which she loves, but one morning she walks into the office and upon seeing her carmy murmurs a “hey honey” and she gets flashes of a kitchen with a window over the sink, an herb garden, something warm and expanding and joy joy joy

they get found out by the rest of the staff at family. well, it’s a series of family dinners. they start sitting next to each other, then carmy’s arm is on the back of her chair and syd’s rubbing his back after he chokes on some rapini. what confirms it for everyone though happens on a lull in the conversation so everyone hears it. sydney needs something from the kitchen and as she’s getting up, for the bit, carmy motions to scoop the last piece of marcus’ take on a pandan chiffon cake out of her plate. she turns to him with a quickness and a huge fake grin and says “carmen, I will literally fucking kill you” as she backs away, to which carmy laughs (laughing!? carmy?!). then he puts his own slice on her plate. richie and nat share a look and the noise at the table comes roaring back to life before carmy realizes it even left. shouldn’t spook those bears.

they move in together and both feel really good with sharing everyday life with someone else. they go to farmers markets and change the garbage under the sink and get a drawer for carmy’s vintage denim. they leave notes on the fridge, much like they do on the whiteboard at work. there’s photos and take-out menus and also vague post-it notes from syd like ‘quail eggs!!!!!! not real’ or ‘break into 45th and Syracuse – man in farmer hat (durian connect??)” and lame weird inspirational quotes from carmy “There’s no one thing that’s true. It’s all true❤️” and sydney’s like what and just thinks they’re funny and doesn’t really make sense but loves him a lot

when carmy can’t sleep he makes sure the blankets are warm around syd and hangs out by the open window for a smoke. he doesn’t smoke as much as he did before and he’s working on cutting it down. sometimes syd wakes up and comes out the bedroom to find him and says “carmy” and sleepily perches on his lap, arm around his shoulder and curls her head into the crook of his neck. her fingers hold onto his gold chain and he stubs out his cig and plays with her hair instead.

#they’re loving!!! Theyre literally just loving #this is after carmy starts therapy and starts to feel better about life btw #writing this bc I miss headcanon culture #we used to be a proper country #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #sydney x carmy #sydcarmy headcanons #the bear fx #the bear season 2

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berzatoe · 10 months

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I Can See You

Warnings: swearing, smoking, smut, fingering, oral (M receiving), p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, spanking, dom!carmy, sub!reader, lots of dirty talk, Carmy is mean.

Pairings: Carmen Berzatto x F!reader

Synopsis: reader is a new hire at the bear set to replace sydney while she goes abroad, and she and carmen do not get along. On a particularly stressful night, they find a great way to sort out their differences.

Authors note: okay I was listening to Taylor’s song “I can see you” and this came to mind so here. There’s not enough Carmy smut out there so I am contributing. ALSO ACCEPTING REQUEST RN SO PLEASE SEND!!!

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

—————————

The clock was ticking. A few minutes to open and so far, everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong.

When you agreed to fill in as Sous for sydney while she went abroad to study in Copenhagen, you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.

Night after night, you had anxiety levels in that kitchen similar to those of someone being hunted by wild animals.

That’s why they call it the bear— the thought occurred to you the first rush you worked. Richie and Carmen had almost killed each other, Tina nearly walked out, you were down an oven and the damn fridge was broken. It felt like you were running for your life as you tried to gain control of that kitchen.

“Chef, I said hands.” His firm voice cut through your thoughts.

“Yes, chef.” you followed his voice and took his place mixing as he began chopping vegetables. His biceps flexed with the heavy rhythm of the knife coming down against the board, veins swelling with tension, knuckles growing white.

He was another problem. He was the essence of the bear. You two butted heads like no other. Ever since sydney hired you to take her place for her leave, he’d been at your throat, hungry for your blood.

You were an ingenue of sorts at a prestigious chef school, and went on to work in one of his competing restaurants in New York at a very young age. You had come in with confidence of your abilities, and had different ways of doing things than Carmy. He couldn’t quite accept it, and you knew he didn’t respect you just yet.

But you craved his approval, for some reason. Something about Carmy made you thirst for his praise. You were constantly showing him new dishes you wanted on the menu to only be turned down. You two would easily get in screaming matches over wether to dice or mince, which spices to add, how long to cook, until you were out of breath and both needed a smoke break.

It didn’t help that he was so goddamn handsome. Watching him work, watching him be impassioned by his work, in command of his staff, it set something off in you. Even when he was screaming at you, there would be a glint in his eye, a vein popping in his neck, or a tone he took that would have you clenching your thighs together.

Now, you stood next to him staring at his strong arms and hands cutting vegetables, falling apart because you’re so stressed and all you can think about is those hands around your throat.

“Chef! What the hell!!” carmy shouted

You’d somehow poured the entire stock pot of sauce all over the oven.

You were stood there just staring at it emptily, trying to understand how it had happened.

“What were you thinking?!” Carmy yelled again.

“I can make more! I’ll get right on it, Chef.”

“We are fucking opening in exactly one minute, chef, we needed that sauce. We NEEDED THAT FUCKING SAUCE.”

“It was only half of the batch, the other one is still there.” You pointed toward the other pot, still heating. Then Carmen let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose as your eyes widened.

The second timer for it immediately went off, meaning it had reset. The alarm rang through the kitchen like a death siren. The sauce was cooking for twice as long as it was supposed to.

“Yup, looks like you burnt that sauce. Congratu-fucking-lations. We can’t open. Are you incompetent chef? Are you stupid?”

The words hurt. “I was going to take care of that sauce before you called for hands!”

“This is the 5th thing you’ve fucked up this morning. You’re ruining my open.”

“If you ever listened to me, I swear I have a more efficient way to do this where we don’t need to call hands and everybody has a set job—“

“This isn’t your restaurant, chef.” He cut you off with a cold stare to match his words, eyes piercing into your soul.

You huffed and spun around, scared if you stayed everyone would see you cry. You ran to the back, out the door, and sat against the brick wall of the alleyway. You rolled your head into your hands, trying to collect yourself.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Richie’s voice rung out. He stood leant up against the fence, smoking.

“Oh god,” you sniffed, looking up and quickly wiping tears away. You didn’t answer, instead, you reached out your hand, silently asking for a smoke.

Richie obliged and continued, “you know, Carmy is really hard on you, huh?”

You stayed quiet, taking a long drag and looking off to the city as you exhaled.

“He has a really hard time with people. He’s not like me. And I think he’s really threatened by you, cuz you’re so good. He had to be a control freak and work for it, but you’re just good.”

You pondered this for a moment, “you really think that?”

“Uh, yeah sweetheart. You’re a natural. He has to at least believe he’s in control or else he’d go apeshit. Also, I think he sort of has a thing for you, so it affects his focus… or whatever…”

You paused. You never thought of the possibility that it could be mutual. That he’d lose focus looking at you the way you so often did with him. But he had just been such an asshole, and you were angry, and god, you wanted to make him pay.

“Richie, I don’t think that could be true. He doesn’t like me. He’s so mean to me.”

Richie just chuckled and then put the cigarette the two of you had been sharing out.

“I know the kid. Get back in there, make him think he’s in charge, and do your thing, little miss sunshine.” Richie smiled and squeezed your shoulders. That was his nickname for you, because of your general sunny disposition. It had changed the place a lot.

The rest of your shift until close, you did what Richie suggested. You made Carmen think he was in charge. You followed orders with a smile and a “yes, chef”, you trailed after him and cleaned up his messes without him noticing, and soon enough the two of you were doing a successful close, allowing the rest of the staff to go home early.

Through the night, you’d also found a way to combat how distracted Carmy could make you. Richie’s intel had allowed you to flip the tables on him. Instead of focusing on how worked up he got you, you started focusing on how worked up you could get him.

You’d always stare at him for just a second too long after saying “yes, chef”, you’d squeeze pass him, intentionally pushing your body close to his. You’d find opportunities to bend over in front of him, stretch out, let your hand linger on his too long when he handed you something. Anything to be close, any chance you got. You were doing your best to see if what Richie had said held any truth to it.

You’d almost given up, you thought for sure something would happen, but the two of you had wrapped things up and were turning down the lights in the restaurant as you got ready to leave.

Carmy had been suspiciously quiet since everyone went home and you were beginning to feel awkward in the silence.

You were standing in front of your locker, grabbing your bag, when Carmy turned around and said, “Wanna tell me what the fuck was up with you tonight?”

You swallowed and turned around to face him, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He took a step closer to you, “I think you do.”

He walked the small distance between your lockers until he was flush against you. He leaned forward until you were cheek to cheek, his lips to your ear as he whispered, “you think you could ruin my open, then tease me like a desperate little whore the whole fucking shift, and get away with it?”

His words went straight to your pussy. Your heart was beating faster than it had ever before, here you were; finally caught by the wild beast hunting you down. He’d fallen for your bait. You smirked.

He lifted his head from your neck where he was planting kisses, seeing the grin on your face. He gripped your jaw with a firm hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Oh, you’re proud of yourself, hmm?” His hand trailed down and came to rest at your collar bones. You moaned in response.

He knew what you wanted. His hand closed around your neck and you smiled again.

Carmen closed his lips around yours. It was unexpected, and even though his hand was rough against your neck, the kiss was slow and gentle. It felt almost nervous, hesitant maybe, and that just made you even more desperate for him. You let out a whimper, begging him to give your more, and his tongue licked into your mouth as his other hand came up to squeeze your breast.

After that he went feral. Pushing up against you, clutching onto your throat, licking roughly and desperately into your mouth, grinding his hard cock against your heat.

He came back up for air, staring at you for a moment, searching your eyes for any regret, hesitancy, anything but what he found; which was pure, eager, lust.

He trailed kisses down your neck and chest and latched onto your nipple as he quickly began pushing down your pants. His calloused hands slowly began teasing the soft delicate skin of your thighs, rubbing soft circles so close to your core.

You whined, and in response he let out a light teasing chuckle as he pushed his hand pass your folds, immediately landing his thumb right against your clit.

Your body convulsed at this, and he loved it. He studied your face, looking for every reaction and using them as cues as he began circling his thumb against your clit.

“Yeah?” He breathed, clearly enjoying it too, “is this what you wanted? Hmm? You’re so fucking wet for me. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you wanted me to touch you?”

Any nervousness you had detected in Carmy before was long gone. He was in control. You were letting him be in control, again, and he was about to ravish you for it.

“Answer me.” His thumb stopped and he tightened his grip around your neck.

“I’ve wanted you since-“ he began rubbing your clit again.

“Since- my first shift- I-“ his ring finger poked at your entrance.

“I-I can never stop thinking about you and-“ his finger fully entered you now and you instantly clenched around it.

“And- I always fantasize about you fucking me which is why i can’t do any of my work right!” You spit out quickly as his finger began pushing in and out of you. At this, he curled it up to meet your spongey spot deep within and you let out a yelp.

“Oh poor baby” he said as he slowed his movements, adding another finger and thrusting them in and out at a torturous pace. Your back was still pressed up against the lockers and the sting of the metal carving into your skin heightened all of your sensations.

“Stupid little slut can’t do her job because she wants to fuck her boss so bad, is that it?” He thrusts his finger into you hard.

“Please” you begged.

“Please what? What do you want?”

“Go faster, I’m so close!”

He instantly removed his fingers from your and you felt the emptiness like a hole.

You went to complain before he clamped a hand around your mouth, “Don’t say a thing. You’re lucky I even gave you my fingers after the shit you pulled tonight, baby. You think you can tell me what to do? You think that’s how this is gonna work? I would just let you cum and then give you my cock and make you cum again?” He laughed.

His eyes were dark and full of want, his cock was hard and it was so painfully evident through his pants. It looked so big and you couldn’t get your mind off of it.

He noticed you staring and began undoing his belt. “Get on your knees.”

You gulped and froze.

He put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you were kneeling, “I said, get. On. Your. Knees.”

He finished undoing his pants and you were face to face with his long, hard, thick cock.

“Be a good girl and suck it, baby” he said. You started towards him before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you back.

“What do you say when I ask you to do something, darling?” His tone was condescending, but you answered nonetheless.

“Yes, chef.”

He groaned and rolled his head back, “yeah, that’s right, good fuckin’ girl” pushing your head back towards his cock as an invitation. You accepted.

You were brutal with your movements, sucking and licking and pushing him as deep as you could get him. He was anything but shy with letting you know how much he enjoyed it, his grip tightening around your hair and pulling and pushing ever so slightly, his hips unintentionally bucking up, forcing his cock down the back of your throat.

And the sounds he was making, oh, they could only be from your dreams. He was unraveling at the seams and whimpering like a dog when you reached your hand up to cup his balls and lightly massage them, he pushed your head so far down you couldn’t breathe.

“Oh my fucking go-d” he said before pulling you off him with a “pop” and staring at your fucked-out face.

Blown out eyes stared back up at him, saliva coating swollen lips, mascara smudged and running, hair a mess. He was proud of himself, and the sight turned him on to no end. He knew if he let you continue he’d cum. However, you were relentless and as soon as he let up on your hair, you dove back down.

“Okay baby, that’s enough.” He said, tearing you away again.

“Why?” You asked genuinely, and it made his heart flutter.

“Cuz if you don’t stop, you’re gonna make m’cum. Can’t do that yet. Wanna do it deep, deep inside ya’… if that’s okay?” He whispered gently, cupping your face and wiping your cheeks.

“Please, god please.” You cried, nodding your head. He grabbed your hand and helped you up, leading you to his office.

There, carmy turned you around and placed, gentle, sweet kisses along your shoulder before whispering, “are you sure this is okay?”

To which, you nodded desperately. But that wasn’t enough for him.

“I need you to say it, honey. I need you to say that you want this. That you want me to fuck you right here on this desk, and fill you up with my cum.”

“I want you Carmy, I want you so bad.”

“Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me on this desk and fill me up with your cum.” You whined, slightly embarrassed, pussy swollen and begging to be fucked.

He pushed you down until you were bending over the desk, chest flush against it. He got a good look at how much you truly wanted him.

“Jesus Christ, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen” he said, roughly spreading you.

“So fucking wet and tight too, could feel you squeezing my fingers earlier.” He spit into his hand and cupped your pussy with it, rubbing the spit down and over your folds.

You felt the tip of his cock tease your hole, slowly making little circles, just barely entering. At this point, you were so ready for him this actually felt mean. You needed relief and he knew it, he saw it, saw your clit throbbing and your legs shaking, body blushing all over. You beginning to make a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before.

He starts to softly comfort you but you know he’s proud of himself, with a smirk on his face as he does it, “ssshhh-sshhh… it’s okay, baby. I know, I know, it’s a lot. I just wanna make sure I don’t hurt you so I’m gonna start real slow, okay? Know you need me. Gonna take good care of you, promise” he slowly starts to inch himself in, and you have to admit, his size surprised you. You were glad for his patience.

When he finally burrows himself all the way within you, you both let out a moan in-sync at the new feeling. Both taking a second to adjust, you tighten and release your walls, making him groan.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” He says between thrusts as he begins, setting a good pace.

Once Carmen is finally fucking you, finally moving within you, taking you raw, you feel free. You let go of all the stress from the restaurant and let him drill it out of you, and you’re sure you’re serving the same purpose for him.

“S’good… so fucking good…” carmen is saying as he fucks you, pace picking up, getting more rough by the second. The praise makes you melt, you squeeze him again and revel in the loud moan you get out of it.

He grabs another fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, making your back arch and the position hit so much deeper. He leans over your body and reaches down to rub your clit with the hand not on your head. It makes you tremble under him.

“Doing s’well for me baby… knew this was all you wanted…. All I could ever think about too… taking you back here… fucking you hard and good just to shut you up… emptying my load deep inside you… leaving you to work the rest of your shift all filled up with me… you’ve been such a little tease every day since you got here… giving me those looks across the kitchen, wearing those little outfits in on your days off, pushing my buttons just to get a rise out of me… I’ve wanted this for so long, pretty baby. You’re so fucking pretty”

You cry out at his drunken confession. It gets you so worked up, you’re almost there, and you can tell he is too.

“Carmy…” you whine, feeling him so deep, hitting that spot every single time without pause, working you up and up and up.

“Yes, baby?”

“Cum inside of me, please. I want it all. Want you to fill me up. M’sclose too. Please please please, fill me up Carmy.” You’re practically in tears and it does something to Carmy. He hears you.

He quickens his pace, getting sloppier, rougher, more sporadic, the two of you making noises like animals, and soon he takes a hand and slaps it down across your ass, causing a loud thwack, as you scream in euphoria. He does it one more time, hard enough to leave a welt, before spilling his seed deep, deep inside of your pussy.

As he pumps his seed into you, again and again, you feel that coil come undone and are seeing stars before you know it, panting and moaning and sweating as Carmy holds you in his arms and snaps his hips back into you occasionally.

He’s collapsed over you on the desk, the two of you exhausted and decompressing. He places a few kisses against your cheek before standing up and pulling himself out, groaning again at the sight. He sees your welted ass, pussy red and swollen, knees shaking, body rising up and down from being out of breath and he instinctively pulls your dead weight into his office chair and runs to get you a water.

You decide that you and Carmy have found an incredible, healthy way to work out your differences in the kitchen.

#carmy smut #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto smut #the bear #the bear smut #dom!carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #Carmy blurb #carmy imagine #smut #richie the bear #the bear imagine

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collecting-stories · 1 year

Text

Blueberry BBQ - Carmen Berzatto

Request: no.

Summary: reader works at The Bear balancing their books and has a major crush on Carmy but they never talk aside from business. A dinner party brings them closer together.

A/N: Just some nonsensical drabble cause I love Carmy.

The Bear Masterlist

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

“Are you making that bbq sauce for the burgers this time?” Marcus asked, turning away from his chocolate cake for a split second to look at you.

Mikey had hired you a week before he died to help balance the books at the Beef. After he was gone Richie stuck you on the counter, waiting on customers like you didn’t have a bachelors in finance, and telling you not to go in the back office. Now that Carmy was around, and attempting to make the Beef float, you were back were you belonged, in the office and away from the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.

You were no chef…you’d hesitate to even really call yourself a proper cook…but you knew what you liked and you knew how to make it taste good. “I don’t know…last time Angel complained.”

“That’s because Angel puts ketchup on everything like a five year old,” Tina called from her station, the distinct chop of onions echoing after her comment.

“What are you making?” Syd asked, adding a quick, “behind” as she passed Tina to grab a pot.

“It’s Sunday night dinner,” Marcus replied, ignoring the headshake Tina gave him. No real offence to Sydney but you knew she’d tell Carmy and whether or not he actually would come, you kind of didn’t want the pressure of thinking he might show up. Even with your job at The Beef you were far from understanding the “food world” but you’d tried Carmy’s cooking a few times and it was leagues better than anything you attempted on a good day. There was no way you wanted him even thinking you set foot in a kitchen, let alone trying something you made.

“Sunday night dinner?” Syd echoed.

And then the cursed, “what’s Sunday night dinner?” Carmy’s voice. He’d come in from a smoke break and you took three large steps back to the office, as if you hadn’t set foot in the kitchen to begin with. Marcus looked at his boss and then at you (wide eyed and trying not to visibly shake your head at him) and then back to Carmy.

“It’s uh,”

“Nothing.” Tina cut in. “It’s nothing. Get back to work eh, Jeff?”

“Yeah,” Carmy looked like he wanted to say something else but instead just nodded, blue eyes a little glazed, “yeah.”

In the comfort of the office, you get back to work on payroll for the week, slipping your airpods in to drown out the sounds of the kitchen. Just over the softer lull of Evermore you could hear Carmy yell at Richie, his brother’s best friend shouting right back. It wasn’t always (or ever) the best environment for working but you liked it. You liked it when Mike was working there and you somehow managed to like it a little more now that Carmy was running the show, though that could just be that you liked Carmy. Outside of work, you didn’t have too many conversations but he was pretty to look at and you liked the brief interactions the two of you had, even if it was just asking about accounts and other boring stuff he didn’t have the patience for on his own.

The whole incident (that might be an over exaggeration of the event though you’d honestly be tempted to call it a debacle and it probably wasn’t that either) had been mostly forgotten by the time the dinner rush was rolling around and you were clocking out. More than thrilled to both be home before dark and to continue your mostly Carmy-free shift. He was so busy out in the kitchen and fighting with Richie that you hadn’t seen him. Though by now you were positive he had forgotten the mention of Sunday night dinner.

You waved to Syd, promised to text Marcus, and slipped out the back door into the alley. If you went out the front Richie would stop you and then you’d be listening to his bullshit for another hour (at least).

“Sneaking out?” Carmy’s tone was teasing and you spun around to find him sitting on a milk crate, smoking what was probably his sixth or seventh cigarette of the day.

“Didn’t wanna hear about Richie’s date,” you shrugged, the strap of your backpack digging at your collar momentarily when your shoulder went up and then dropped back into place.

“It was a bust.”

You nodded, “kinda feel bad for him,” you mused. You didn’t hate Richie, in fact you found him kind of funny. Even when he’d kicked you out of the office and relegated you to the counter you’d liked him too much to complain.

“You wanna date him?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as if he was issuing some kind of challenge.

“Oh, I don’t feel that bad.” You laughed.

Carmy smiled and you were ready to say goodnight when he opened his mouth again. Maybe you should have gone the front way. “So what’s this Sunday night dinner?”

You shook your head as if the whole ordeal wasn’t that major to begin with. Maybe if it sounded lame, if you sounded like you weren’t that bothered with it, Carmy wouldn’t want to go. Not that you thought he wanted to spend his time off the clock hanging out with you. “Oh it’s nothing, I’m just…making dinner for like, Marcus and Tina and everybody.”

He frowned. An actual, eyebrows scrunched, hooded eyes drooped, frown. “You cook?”

“Not, no, not like…I mean…it’s probably cardboard compared to you.” You laugh, “not that I’m, ya know…comparing myself to you or anything.” You replied, stumbling slightly over your words.

“Must be pretty good…everybody’s going.”

“Well, anyone’s invited…I mean, if you wanted to come you could. I think Marcus is bringing some dessert and Tina and Ebraheim usually bring something too.” You shrugged again, an impulsive movement as you tried to make yourself sound cool and collected. It was just Carmy…the guy looked like he was homeless, he shouldn’t be as intimidating as he was.

“What are you making?”

“It’s just burgers.” You replied, downplaying the fact that you’d specifically overpaid for waygu beef because Marcus claimed it tasted better. Who were you to know.

“I’ll bring something.” The offer sounded more like a sure statement. Not only would he be there but he would bring something.

“Okay…” you trailed off, “well, see you tomorrow.”

You were pretty sure you’d never left The Beef so quickly in your entire life. Sunday was supposed to be a relaxing day off and an attempt to actually be somewhat sociable because god knows quarantine was rough, even with a steady job.

But now Sunday was just anxiety bubbling in your stomach while you made the plum bbq glaze that Marcus liked so much. You’d imagined nothing more than calling up your mom to complain about how often you put your foot in your mouth but as you reached for the telephone you realized the only one around to listen to you talk about this weird crush you had on Carmy was your cat. The monster in question was a long haired black cat that the lady on the top floor had adopted before covid. She’d named him Rigoletto after the Italian opera and then decided she didn’t want him anymore.

“That place down the street is hiring…although I’m not so sure I wanna work at an H&R Block.” You mused, scratching under Rigoletto’s chin before leaving him on the arm of the couch to finish the bbq sauce. “And I do really like the Beef…but what if Carmy hates this? And he fires me or something…is that crazy?”

The cat didn’t have the chance to answer because the buzzer by your door went off. It was a little too early for anybody who usually showed up to arrive though you suspected it could be Syd (she’d been invited now too, along with Richie who had to decline because it was his Sunday with his daughter).

You hit the button to unlock the front door without confirming who was there. Not a great habit but you were technically expecting someone and you tended to get a little lax with security every now and then. You propped the door to your apartment so that whoever you’d buzzed (Syd surely, maybe Ebraheim) would be able to just come right in.

But as luck would have it, it wasn’t Syd that came through the door to your apartment. It was Carmen, holding two foil trays cause he promised he’d bring something (and okay, sure, maybe he over did himself for just a hang out in your apartment but so sue him if he wasn’t trying to impress you).

“Hey uh…your cat looks like it’s gonna climb me.” He half greeted, half warned, staring down at the cat that had jumped off the couch and come over to greet him. Yellow eyes stared up at his blue ones, back hunched like it was ready to pounce and Carmy briefly imagined the cat jumping right into the trays in his hands.

Before any worst case scenarios could happen you scooped the cat up in your arms, apologizing and telling Carmy he could lay the trays on the small island in your kitchen. “He’s super friendly,” you promised though you left him in your room and closed the door, “he’s a big fan of Chester.”

“Marcus’ roommate?” Carmy almost laughed.

“Yeah he uh, what are you doing?” You speedwalked the short distance back to the kitchen when you realized that Carmy had moved over to inspect the sauce you were making, spooning a tiny bit out and taking a bite.

“It’s good, maybe a little maple syrup?” He offered, as if this was The Beef’s test kitchen. Without waiting for your okay he went to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a bottle of maple syrup. You wondered briefly if he had some sort of psychic sense that let him know you had maple syrup on hand or if Carmy just expected all the ingredients he needed to be right where he needed them at all times. “What’s this?”

“It’s salad dressing,” you supplied, shifting awkwardly as he shook the bottle of salad dressing he’d plucked off the shelf.

You watched him pop the lid and stick a clean butter knife in the jar, pulling it out and taste testing the dressing. This was objectively worse than you imagined inviting Carmy to your house would be. “Shit, that’s fire.”

You could feel your face heat up at the compliment, though that was immediately out of your mind as Carmy continued his inspection of your fridge. When he started eyeing a tupperware of soup from last night, you reached over and closed the door on him, “okay; let’s be finished going through my fridge?”

“Sorry,” he held his hands up in surrender, the bottle of dressing still in one hand. “I didn’t know you cooked.” It was the same thing he’d said to you earlier though it didn’t hold the same genuine surprise as it had earlier. Instead, he looked almost contemplative, as if finding something out about you that he hadn’t known before meant something you weren’t aware of.

“Nothing serious,” you promised, going back to check on the burgers and looking back at Carmy, “would you…check these. I know it sounds dumb but, cooking meat gives me anxiety.”

“It gives you anxiety?” He said it like he was trying not to laugh, a smile threatening his features as he set the dressing back in the fridge and came over to stand a little too close to you.

“If you don’t cook it enough you could kill someone and if you cook it too much it’s gross,” you replied, glancing half over your shoulder at him as he leaned in to check the state of the burgers.

“Alright…if you let me try the soup.”

You caved, “fine.” Passing the wooden spatula and stepping to the side. “If Marcus asks, I totally cooked them myself.”

Carmy nodded, grinning, “yeah alright.”

Cooking with him, without the imminent pressure of a working kitchen, was more fun than you imagined it would be. When you’d wandered into the kitchen area of the Beef back when Mike was still around, he was always joking and talking shit with Richie. Carmy didn’t necessarily run a tighter ship but he was more serious about food and cooking and there was less time for bullshitting. You assumed the quiet intensity was how he always was but you realized that was an unfair judgement. He was relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen him be, that confidence in his food coming through with quiet remarks about this meal or that, shitty food he’d eaten while he was working in New York and stories about the CIA.

By the time everyone had finished eating and gone home, leaving you with a mess of plates and cutlery, you were a little tipsy but genuinely happy. It hadn’t been as stressful as you were making it out to be in your mind and Carmy relaxed on a Sunday night was completely different from Carmy in the kitchen at work.

“You have a system or?” His voice broke your train of thought as you wiped the last crumbs off the table and realized that he was standing at your sink, kitchen towel over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to help me clean up,” you tossed the crumbs and came over to the sink, “I mean you fixed the burgers.”

“I didn’t ‘fix’ them,” he almost looked like he was gonna laugh. “I just helped them along.”

“Well either way, you shouldn’t have to clean up too.”

“I don’t mind.” He promised, “now, you got a system?”

“Not really,” you shook your head, “but I don’t have a dishwasher so everything’s by hand.”

“I got time.” Carmy promised and you couldn’t help feeling like your heart was going to thud right out of your chest, “besides you promised me some of that soup.”

“You just ate like a whole meal Carm, you’re not seriously gonna have soup at midnight are you?” You asked though honestly you didn’t think you would be surprised if the answer was that yes, he would have soup at midnight.

“Yeah if it’s good,” he joked.

You shook your head, not answering and instead focusing your attention on drying dishes too large to fit in the rack beside your sink. The frying pan went back on the stove with the pot beside it. While Carmy finished the very last of the dishes you let Rigoletto out of your bedroom, the cat stretching languidly as he appraised the room.

“My mom had a cat once,” he mentioned, eyeing Rigoletto as he approached the kitchen area, “ended up giving it to the neighbor cause it jumped on the counters all the time. Nothing like cat hair in your chicken picante.”

“Rigoletto’s too fat to make it to the counter.” You replied, “if he did I’d be too impressed to be upset with him.”

“What are you doing?” Carmy watched you curiously as you got a bowl out of the cabinet and grabbed a bag of granola.

“Homemade granola,” you shook the bag, “it’s for the top of the soup.” When he didn’t say anything you added, “just trust me.”

“It’s your recipe.”

“I feel like that wasn’t as confident sounding as I wanted it to be,” you laughed, passing the heated up bowl across the counter to him, granola sprinkled over the top, “it’s apple and brie soup.”

“Apple?”

“Okay, like you’ve made some weird fucking shit before Carm. Don’t act like this is the craziest thing you’ve ever heard of.”

He raised his hands in surrender, spoon teetering between his fingers briefly before he was leaning forward to take a bite. “To be fair, I rarely see you even near the kitchen at work.”

“Well I’m not as good as anyone there, I just like trying different stuff on my own time.”

“This is really good,” he mentioned, taking another spoonful, “you have a recipe?”

“Yeah, I have a notebook somewhere.” You weren’t a hundred percent sure where you’d placed your notebook though you knew it was floating around somewhere in the apartment.

“Show me?” He asked, then, “not right now…just whenever.” The request was vague and you knew that ultimately you could just take it to mean showing him the actual handwritten recipe that you used to make the soup that he was almost finished eating but it could also mean actually cooking with him. Something that, 24 hours ago would have definitely scared the shit out of you. Cooking with someone like Carmy? That was out of the question.

“When do you ever have free time?” You kept the question light, a joke more than an observation of his life, “I was surprised you came tonight.”

“I thought about not coming,” he shrugged, “figured if you wanted me to you woulda asked yourself but…” the sentence teetered off and you took a few seconds silence to really weigh how your relationship with Carmen looked from his end.

“Sorry, it’s not that you aren’t invited or anything…just that you’re kinda intimidating and if you were coming over than I’d wanna impress you and if I didn’t at least make edible food I’d be embarrassed.”

“It could use a little fine-tuning but it’s not bad by any stretch.”

“Okay,” you almost laughed at the bluntness of his statement. Ask him anything else and he clammed up but ask him about food and he was direct.

“Sorry I-”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shook your head quickly, wanting him to understand that you weren’t at all bothered by the comment. Maybe if you were in an actual professional in a kitchen...you’d heard him and Syd go at it before over a dish and you knew that Carmy could be mean when he was in ‘kitchen-mode’. “I mean, aside from you, the only people who eat what I cook are like...my parents. And what are they gonna say?”

Carmy didn’t say anything, taking the empty bowl and placing it in the sink. He looked like he wanted to say more but instead he reached for his coat, “thanks for letting me invite myself.”

“Hey, anytime you wanna come over...” You admitted. Tonight hadn’t been as scary as you thought it was and, in all honesty, you kind of liked having Carmy here. Getting to see him more relaxed was nice and cooking with him was somehow better. “Besides, I promised to show you the soup.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. Trying to fix the Beef, pay off Jimmy, and generally just exist didn’t leave a whole lot of free time but he didn’t think he would mind making some just so he could stand around in your kitchen with you again. It felt almost the way he used to feel when Mike was still alive and everything still had a layer of candy-coating on it. That sort of simple, ‘if I don’t leave this moment nothing can go wrong’ feeling that tightened his chest and made him feel warm.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” You phrased it like a question but it was a fact.

“Tomorrow.” He agreed. The possibility of it already making him eager for the morning.

817 notes · View notes

in-my-feels-probably · 1 year

Note

I can’t remember fr 😭 but here’s maybe another idea? Carmenxreader where the reader works as a chef at the restaurant as well and one day when they’re specially stressed out carmy blows up on her face (kinda like how he does to Sydney on ep 7) and she straight up walks out as well, the difference here is that they live together and obviously they can’t exactly ignore each other at home OR as an alternative, he blows up in her face and she has that kinda silent anger that’s even scarier than when someone has a screaming match with you, so when she simply turns around and goes back to work, Carmy is afraid for his life because he can practically see the anger radiating off of her, either one is fine! And ending is up to you! (But make is happy pls because I am a baby and will cry at too much angst :’)) thank you!!

Crash and Burn

Request: Carmenxreader where the reader works as a chef at the restaurant as well and one day when they’re specially stressed out carmy blows up on her face (kinda like how he does to Sydney on ep 7) and she straight up walks out as well, the difference here is that they live together and obviously they can’t exactly ignore each other at home OR as an alternative, he blows up in her face and she has that kinda silent anger that’s even scarier than when someone has a screaming match with you, so when she simply turns around and goes back to work, Carmy is afraid for his life because he can practically see the anger radiating off of her, either one is fine!

Hi! I’m so sorry for the long wait, I’ve been so busy but I’ve got some time now. I’m still getting the hang of writing for Carmy, so bear with me if it’s a little bit rusty. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: swearing, shouting, slight angst, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Today was not your day. It wasn’t anyone’s day at the Beef’s, to be more specific.

And to make it worse, you were prepping for a catering event Carmy couldn’t say no to. You needed the cash, and so it had to be done. But—of course—everything had to go wrong, one shitty situation after the other.

First, the meat delivery man dropped off fifty pounds of the wrong kind of meat, which immediately put Carmy in a bad mood. Then, he accidentally scorched the bottom of a pan after he forgot to check it while he was whisked away doing other things, and he had to start his stock sauce over completely. Unfortunately for you, it was a new recipe, and he was the only one who knew how to make it. It set him back at least an hour, and now you were rushing to pick up the slack of his duties on top of yours while he continued his.

It seemed as if everyone was having a bad day. Marcus couldn’t get the consistency of his cake batter right. Richie left his cigarettes at home and was forced to work through his smoke break, loudly griping about it to you while he chopped vegetables. Tina was late to work because of an appointment she had to take her son to, and she refused to cancel it and make another. Not that you blamed her.

You could overhear the phone call she had with Carmy letting him know she was stuck on the L train. When he asked why she couldn’t have just rescheduled, her scolding could be heard even from outside his office door.

“It took me three fucking weeks just to even get the place to answer the phone without putting me on hold, I’m not about to wait another month!”

Carmy sighed, wiping a hand down his face. “We’re really busy today, Tina, if you could just please hurry—”

“Yeah, I’ll tell the conductor to step on it. Give me a minute, kid, I’ll be there soon.”

She arrived shortly after her phone call, making herself scarce when she saw Carmy hunched over a pot, muttering fragmented sentences to himself that would make a sailor blush. You quickly hurried her over, telling her to grab a knife and help you chop.

The icing on the fucking cake—metaphorical of course, since Marcus had yet to actually bake any cake—was the client calling Carmy in the middle of the lunch rush and demanding the event’s catering be pushed up half a day, or else they would cancel entirely and expect a refund. A refund you didn’t have, as you had already spent the moneyt, so you had no choice but to oblige them. Meaning that instead of the extra time in the morning everyone had to prep, they’d instead have to finish that evening. And as if that couldn’t get any worse, Richie was going to have to leave halfway through the dinner shift to go pick up his daughter, which was unmissable.

It would be you, Carmy, Tina, Marcus, and Sydney after the restaurant closed, working overtime and scrambling until you finished.

Although, it was hard to ponder the next few hours when you were up to your neck in to-go orders, wrapping up sandwich after sandwich that Richie was making and sending your way in between taking orders at the counter. In fact, everyone was up to their necks in duties, frantically working and bustling around the kitchen.

“Sydney, I’ll sign the lease to my apartment over to you and my savings account for rent if you take that meat cleaver and hit me over the head with it. If I don’t die, at least I’ll get sent to the hospital and be able to get the fuck out of here,” you groaned, wrapping yet another sandwich and sliding it back to Richie at the counter.

Carmy tsked, not looking up from the now four separate pots on the stove he was managing. “Considering I live there, too, I think you’re gonna have to tough this one out for me.”

“For fucks sake,” you whined, heading into the front of house to grab more wrappers.

Richie patted your shoulder on your way back into the kitchen, chuckling when you glared up at him. In a rare moment of peace when there was a gap in customers, he headed back into the kitchen to help you with the online orders.

“Hang in there, kid,” he said, reaching into his back pocket before he groaned. “Shit, do you have any smokes?”

“Nope,” you replied, immediately souring his relatively calm mood.

“Fuck!”

He then took to angrily assembling and wrapping orders, shooing you away from the to-go station. Not that you were complaining, you could practically feel the anger radiating off him as he worked.

You chose to help Carmy, who looked like he was about ten seconds from a mental breakdown. You rested a hand on his back as you approached him, gently rubbing up and down.

“Where do you need me, love? Can I help?”

He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ve got this. Can you help Tina in the walk-in? She’s been in there a while.”

“Yup,” you smiled, hooking an arm around his middle giving him a quick hug, before heading into the back where the freezer was.

When you opened the door, Tina was standing on her tippy toes, trying to put a big container of sauce on the top shelf. You furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering why she hadn’t asked someone a bit taller, like Marcus, to help her lift it up. She’d been gone from her station for what was probably twenty minutes now, and it was hard to imagine her standing like that instead of simply asking for help.

You let the door close behind you, stepping in to help. “Tina, what are you doing?”

“I’ve got it, it’s fine. I’ll be right out,” she replied, taking a step up onto the bottom rank of the shelf.

“Tina—” you gasped, eyes widening.

She quickly turned towards you, one hand clinging to the shelf, the other supporting the container. “Y/N—”

Suddenly, her foot slipped down off the shelf, and she lost stability. The container came crashing down, splashing sauce all over the floor and across your shoes and the bottom of your pants. You quickly jumped over the puddle, offering your hands for Tina to take.

“Come on, then. Get down, I’ll get us a few rags and we can clean this up,” you said, taking her hands in yours as you helped her step down. “We only lost the top bit, I think the rest of this is salvageable. I’ll ask Marcus to put this up on the shelf once we get it cleaned up in here.”

“Damn it,” she muttered, slipping her shoes off at the door so she didn’t track sauce all over the kitchen.

You did the same, opening the door for her. “It’s alright, I’ve done this at least twice since I started working here. Sydney, too. It’s not our fault these shelves are so fucking high.”

Tina managed a chuckle, grabbing the mop bucket. “What a shitty day.”

“Agreed,” you replied, heading over to where you kept the clean towels and rags stocked.

You passed by Carmy on the way, who raised a brow at your disheveled appearance. “Drop something?”

“Not me, just in the splash zone. Don’t worry, I’ll get it cleaned up.”

He was slicing meat now, and he frustratedly paused, setting his knife down. “Which sauce?”

“Uh, the garlic aioli, I think. I’m not sure, they’re all the same color, but it currently reeks of garlic in the walk-in, so I think my guess is pretty accurate.”

“Shit,” he sighed, picking the knife back up. “Could you be more careful, please?”

You raised a brow. “Well, I wasn’t the one who dropped it, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, just be fucking careful, alright? I don’t think we’ll survive any more shit today, we’re barely gonna make it as is.”

You flinched back at his sharp tone and raised volume, trying not to look too affected by his words. Suddenly, Richie called over his shoulder, scolding Carmy.

“Cousin! Be fucking nice, leave her alone. Don’t be a dick, it was an accident.”

Carmy’s face fell as he watched your falter, and he cleared his throat, sniffing. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault. There’s just too much shit to deal with today.”

You nodded and went to grab the towels, circling back by him as you walked past. You spoke carefully, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. You knew he was under a lot of stress and didn’t mean to snap at you, but you’d much rather avoid any further potential snapping if you could, letting him be.

“Take a breath, Carm. We’re gonna be fine, we still have all evening.”

He nodded, mustering up a small smile. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, really,” you said, rubbing his shoulder as you walked back into the walk-in.

Sighing, you got down on your hands and knees and started wiping up the mess. Tina stuck to the higher bits of the shelf that the sauce splashed onto. It took about ten minutes, but you finally managed to get everything up. You wiped the bottom of your shoes last, and then all the sauce was gone. Tina ran a mop through the freezer one last time, and you were finished after you got rid of the dirty rags.

You joined Sydney at her station, tying a new apron around your waist.

“Shitty day?” She asked, reaching for a sharper knife. “Twenty bucks on it getting even shittier.”

You huffed out a laugh. “I’d lose that bet. I guarantee we’re all gonna want to quit by tomorrow morning.”

“Fantastic,” she said, plastering a fake exaggerated smile on her face.

—

The rest of the dinner shift was—as predicted—miserable. Richie practically danced as he clocked out, saluting everyone before running out the back door to his car. Thankfully, he closed the front of the restaurant before leaving, which saved you all an extra half hour.

Everything settled down a bit once you all were steadily working in the back, but you were still rushing to make your new deadline. Everyone stuck to their own stations, in the zone as they worked.

You finished your first round of work, deciding to see if anyone else needed help with getting theirs done.

“Hey, Tina—”

She put a hand up, stopping you. “I’m good, mija. Talk to Jeff.”

“Heard,” you grinned, before walking over to Carmy. “Need me to do anything here?”

He took a breath, eyes scanning over his work before he nodded. “Yeah, uh…I braised the beef earlier. Could you slice it up thinly, and then pass it to Sydney? She needs it for prep.”

“Yup,” you nodded, grabbing a knife and the tray of meat.

You began to make small talk as you worked, first with Carmy, then with everyone else. It was beginning to get late, and you all were a little delirious. Soon enough, the kitchen was full of laughter and scuffling feet as you moved around, telling joke after joke. It was a little loud, admittedly, but everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

“Alright, alright, I’ve got one,” Marcus said, loading a tray into the oven. “When does a joke become a dad joke? When it’s apparent.”

You stifled a laugh as best you could, but you failed when Tina burst out laughing, crossing her legs.

“Stop it, I'm gonna piss myself!”

That got Sydney, who’s laughter was practically echoing off the walls. “That’s some popsicle stick shit right there.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, tears falling as you chuckled. You could feel the heat in your cheeks as you laughed, your stomach beginning to ache. You looked over at Carmy, and realized that he had stopped laughing. He had smiled and chuckled at the first few jokes, but now he was quiet, working with tired eyes.

“You got any jokes, Carm?” You asked, taking a step closer to him.

“What?” He asked, finally looking up at you. “Uh…no, no I don’t.”

“Oh, come on,” Marcus drawled over his shoulder, turning to look at Carmy.

“No.”

You nodded, urging him along. “Yeah Carm, just give it a shot.”

“No,” he said curtly, turning back to his work.

You gave him a grin, trying to put him in a better mood. “Carm, just try—”

“Y/N! No!” He shouted, dropping his knife on the counter with a loud clang. “Could you just leave me alone for a minute, please? I mean, fuck! What’s with you today? We’ve got shit to get done. Just work! Without all the yammering, preferably.”

“Woah!” Tina shouted, immediately coming to your defense. “Take the stick out of your ass, leave her alone!”

Your jaw slacked at his words, but you quickly recovered, standing up straight. You could feel the ache in your heart at his scolding, and the tinge of embarrassment heating up your cheeks. But you steeled your emotions, setting your shoulders back as you picked up your knife, continuing to chop. You could hear arguing around you, but you ignored it, keeping your head down.

Carmy immediately regretted his outburst, and he would have reached out to you if Sydney and Tina hadn’t immediately put themselves between you and him.

“You alright?” Marcus said quietly, coming to stand by your side.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’m fine, I promise. Thanks.”

“Y/N,” Carmy started, and you could see the regret in his eyes.

He dropped what he was doing, trying to come over to you. But you raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“I said I’m fine,” you replied curtly, turning to Sydney. “Syd, I’ll finish slicing the beef so I can give it to you, and I’ll finish up with anyone else who needs me for something. But I’m leaving the second I’m done.”

Sydney gave you a look of sympathy. “You don’t have to, I can finish this.”

“I’m not gonna throw a tantrum and make your job any harder just because I want to leave,” you sighed, throwing a sharp glare towards Carmy.

You could see his jaw clench, and he cast his eyes to the floor. You scoffed, quickly going back to your work. Working as fast as you could, you finished within the next half hour. Walking over to Sydney, you placed the tray of sliced beef in front of her.

“Here,” you groaned tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose.

She frowned, patting your arm. “Go home, babe. Get some rest.”

“I will, let me just ask Tina—”

“I’m fine,” Tina interrupted, holding her hand up when you tried to speak again. “Marcus, too. Seriously, mija. Go home.”

You finally relented, nodding. “Alright, fine. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Love you,” they called out in sequence, watching you grab all of your things and head for the door.

You called back to them telling them you loved them, passing Carmy on your way out. He looked up at you as you walked past, his face full of regret, and a slight bit of fear. You smiled sweetly at him, making him shift back and forth uncomfortably.

“See you at home.”

He visibly paled, and you choked down a sinister laugh as you walked out the door.

—

Hours later, Carmy gently opened up the front door to your shared appointment. He was practically tiptoeing, trying not to wake you up. As he flicked on the lights, he took a startled step back when he saw you sitting on the couch, a book beside you that you had long since abandoned. The TV dimly lit the room, on a low volume.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes off the TV. “Eat.”

You may have been pissed—beyond pissed—but you didn’t want him to starve. The whole day, and you couldn’t remember seeing him eat even once.

“Y/N—” He started gently, but you cut him off.

“Eat…then we’ll talk.”

He sighed, nodding as he walked over to the fridge. After a few minutes of dawdling around the kitchen, he finally joined you, cautiously taking a seat next to you.

You didn’t turn to him as you spoke. “Did you finish? Everyone get home okay?”

You could hear him fidgeting next to you, which led to you finally faltering and looking over at him. The look on his face almost made you take pity, but you waited for him to speak first. He finally did, breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

You raised a brow, having to urge him to continue. “For?”

“For being an asshole,” he finished, his eyes softening on you.

You nearly smiled, raising a brow. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“You were trying to help, and I was being a dick about it. You were under just as much stress as I was, and it was out of line yelling at you in front of everyone like that. I shouldn’t blow up on anyone like that, but especially not you. I’m sorry.”

“You really embarrassed me, you know,” you said, your voice beginning to waver.

Carmy winced as you spoke, nodding. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for that, too.”

Sighing, you gently took his hand. He immediately clung to yours, squeezing it as he turned to face you more.

“You could just talk to me,” you whispered, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand. “Tell me if I’m being too loud, or if you want me to do something else. I just want to help you. We all do. And we can’t do that if you don’t tell us what you need.”

“They all think I’m an asshole, don’t they? I would if I heard someone yelling at their girl like that.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand again. “No, Carm. They don’t think you’re an asshole. They know you’re under a lot of pressure, and honestly, I think they’d say you’re handling the change of pace really well. Marcus and Sydney would, at least. Not sure about Tina. Definitely not Richie.”

Carmy let out a laugh at that, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah, well…he’s an asshole, too. Takes one to know one.”

You grinned, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not an asshole…at least, not all the time.”

“Fuck you,” he spat, although he was grinning, too. “And yes, by the way. We finished up, and everyone made it home safely. It’ll be a long day tomorrow, but we’ve done the hard part.”

You hooked your arm under his, leaning against his side. “I’m glad. It’s good money. We needed this job. Not sure it was worth all the rage, but I’m sure I’ll be saying differently tomorrow.”

“It’ll be worth it,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you.”

You smiled, grinning dramatically. “What would you ever do without me?”

He shrugged, leaning further into you as he let out a deep sigh. “Crash and burn, probably.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry again for the wait, I hope this is what you were looking for. Let me know what you think! Thank you again for requesting :)

#the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader

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criesinliess · 10 months

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━JULY 2023; susan's recs

DIVERGENT

━━ERIC COULTER

ink stains @heliads

━━FOUR

something more @heliads

HARRY POTTER

━━BLAISE ZABINI

dancing in the dark @faithisasuperstar

STRANGER THINGS

━━STEVE HARRINGTON

the swindling of steve harrington’s heart @stevebabey

somewhere only we know @↑

nine facts, one lie @↑

everything leads to you @↑

it’s too late for me now (i need you sticking around)

an equal lover @↑

a game of russian roulette; part2 @↑

MARVEL

━━BUCKY BARNES

cookies, kisses and such @stevebabey

candlelight & cuddles @↑

drunkely in love @kurogxrix

━━MIGUEL O’HARA

it's always been you @amhrosina

love bites @↑

miguel o'hara x reader @ichangedmycornyahhname

show me where it hurts; part2 @loganlermanstanaccount

you haven't kissed me all day @luveline

liability @crescentbelle

snow spider @ichorai

happy wife, happy life @msgorillagripcoochie

tight grip, broken dam @flowerpotmage

orange, red and blue @ghost-with-a-teacup

when she brings him lunch @kumori-suwan

a hug? (maybe more?) @messylustt

miguel o’hara in love @moonlesslights

absence makes the heart grow fonder @luveline

OUTER BANKS

━━JJ MAYBANK

from first wave to first kiss @stevebabey

LOCKWOOD & CO

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

you're beautiful @atlabeth

heart eyes! — masterlist @tangledinlove

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

call sign: tennessee whiskey — masterlist @nolita-fairytale

JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS

━━LUKE PATTERSON

love shack @dream-a-little-bigger-x

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

you’re so mean to me @writers-hes

sydney saw it first @↑

where there’s smoke @thebearer

follow me; fall into me @↑

apologizing mess @writeroutoftime

#susan’s recs #fics recs #eric coulter x reader #four x reader #blaise zabini x reader #steve harrington x reader #bucky barnes x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #jj maybank x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #luke patterson x reader #carmy berzatto x reader

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xblackreader · 22 days

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Cute SydCarmy idea - SFW - Fluff

Need Richie or Sugar to call Carmy out because he’s started to reply to everything Sydney says with “Yes Dear.” and it’s funny at first because Sydney gets all flustered and then pouty at the implication like she’s his nagging wife until eventually his “Yes Dear” start to sound less exasperated and more like endearments.

“Carmy, you smoke way too often. You should really try to get your intake down to 3 or 4 a day.”

“Yes dear.” And Richie belly laughs over hearing them from the kitchen.

Sugar giggles and Sydney flushes, embarrassed while Carmen tries not to think the scrunch of her nose is adorable.

But he is slowly but surely cutting down his smoke breaks, so much so that he’s not going out to smoke until the end of the day.

“Carm, we need to talk about how I099’s, Sweeps has no clue why these can’t be digital, but Ebra threatened to quit if we went paperless. Fix it.”

“Yes, dear.” And she thinks he’s making a joke at her expense but no one is around but them.

“Stop saying that! It’s embarrassing!”

“Yes dear.”

“Carmen.”

“Sydney.” And his fond look of innocence just makes her grimace and level him with an empty glare.

“You’re an asshole.”

Feel free to absolutely borrow this idea

#he’s your asshole #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #syd x carmy #carmy x fem!reader #ayo edebiri #jeremy allen white #black women #x black reader

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yellowharrington · 10 months

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jaded -- chapter 2, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking (both carmy and reader), mention of sexual content, a bit of angst. minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: chapter 2 is here! ty for reading and interacting w this story i very much appreciate it <3 this chapter is a bit angsty and a bit fluffy, pls enjoy!

summary: after you and carmy hook up, things change.

masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 3

Carmy isn’t good at hookups. Especially after spectacularly fucking it up with Claire, a girl he knew deep down was probably his soulmate, he was feeling pretty fucking gross about the whole thing. He doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve any of it, and pumping his loneliness into his pastry chef probably isn’t a great idea either. It felt so good in the moment, his hands wrapped around her throat and in her hair, pouring it all out into the messy thrusts. He just thought about how he wasn’t good enough for this, and was just a broken, broken person.

You knew it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, and you’d heard whispers about Claire in the kitchen between Carmen and Ritchie, and obviously there was a history there. You had tried to pry the story out of Sydney, but she was all tight-lipped about the whole thing, not wanting to “gossip” at work. In reality, you knew she knew Claire and had heard more about what had happened on opening night, and probably just didn’t want to repeat the story to anyone. You could respect it, but at the same time, you needed to know how deep this shit went before you started being your boss’s rebound.

The kitchen that afternoon when you come in for your shift is awkward, to say the least. You ignore him, he ignores you, but it’s tense. When he sees you, all he sees is your lips hung open, moans escaping against his skin, his loose gold chain between your teeth as he plunges into you, over and over and over and…

“Behind, Jeff! Fuck, what is up with you today? Your mind is somewhere else,” Tina breaks him out of his daydream, watching as you ice the dessert in front of you, focusing on the even layers of chocolate buttercream. And you’re not laughing, no, because you don’t know if he’s daydreaming about you or still has his mind on Claire, and even though you may have a big ego, it’s not big enough to think he’s distracted by you at work. It was one fuck, one night, one mistake between two coworkers that you’d never speak of again.

“Outside, now, chef,” he’s suddenly at your station, looming over you just as you were getting lost in the frosting. “I’m fucking busy, Carm-“ you started, before his hand came down on the stainless steel beside you, gripping the edge of the counter. “Now, chef. Please.” You place the offset spatula on the clean plate beside your cake, glaring at him as you walked out back. He immediately pulled out a cigarette to put between his lips, letting the chilled air hit the bare skin of his arms. “What the fuck do we do?” he asks, more into the air than directly to you. You tighten your apron around your waist, crossing your arms over your chest. “Probably fuckin’ prep for service and serve rich assholes some marinated radishes. What the fuck else would we be doing?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, and it’s sharper than he intends. “No, I mean,-“ “Look, you’re the one who left in the middle of the night, alright? You’re the one who snuck out and went home before I could say anything or we could come up with a game plan. I don’t care that we fucked, we can forget it, I won’t talk about it again. Swear on my fuckin’ life,” you grab the cigarette from between his fingers and put it between your own lips. “But don’t act like I’m crazy, or like it’s my fucking fault, alright?” There’s a beat as you take a puff of his cigarette, smashing it beneath the toe of your shoe into the concrete. “Sorry for leaving,” he says, finally, “Didn’ know what else to do.” You shrugged. “Whatever, Carm, it doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to. I’ll live and let live if you will. Just be fuckin’ cool, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want people to know that I fucked my boss, or whatever.” He smirks, “Heard, chef.”

And it all seems alright for a bit. The kitchen is back to normal, you’re back on pace, and you and Carmy are fine.

The weeks pass and the world falls back into its natural orbit. There’s a hookup here and there, a few nights where he comes home with you after service, all under the guise of a drive home. You feel obligated to invite him up for something to eat (because God knows he hasn’t all fucking day), and before you can get in the door he’s already hot on your heels and breathing down the back of your neck. And there you are, breath hitched in your throat, struggling to get the door open, feeling his hand come around your front and slide into the waistband of your jeans.

Sometimes he stays, sometimes he doesn’t. It’s a toss up if you have to be in for service the next morning, and you usually hear him grabbing his coat from where it’s laid on the kitchen table, the jingle of his car keys in the right-hand side pocket being just loud enough to wake you from your deep slumber. Sometimes you’re coherent enough to ask him to stay, but he’s got one foot out the door and he can easily pretend not to hear you. And it’s fine, really.

A Saturday rolls around, the busiest day of the week, and there’s a few mumbles around the kitchen that Carmy’s in a bad mood today, and he’s not to be fucked with.

You were nothing if not nosy, so when Richie and Natalie are having a heated conversation in the dining room before prep starts, you can’t help but insert yourself. “What’s up, guys? Everything chill?” Richie shot you a look, but not before leaning down closer to your ear, sworn to secrecy.“Claire bitched out Carmy on a drunk phone call last night,” He starts, before Natalie can stop him. “No, it wasn’t-“ “Yeah, it was. It was gnarly. She finally actually got mad about opening night and let him fuckin’ have it, good for her,” he laughs, letting his hands plunge into his pockets. “What did she say?” Natalie’s sweet voice was a sharp contrast to Richie’s, low, and soft, when she replied, “He didn’t say much. Just that she called, and he had his stupid sad puppy dog eyes on, so obviously she must’ve said some… stuff.”

Carmy was scrubbing the floors of the kitchen, head down, obviously not taking any notice to the mini staff meeting in the dining room. “Just don’t mention it, ‘kay? I don’t think anyone’s supposed to know. He hasn’t heard from her in weeks and now he’s all fucked up over it, he’ll probably be a real bitch later.” “Heard, chef. Will try not to piss off Princess Carmy.”

The service isn’t so bad. Carmy’s mopey - downturned eyes, less yelling than you’d anticipated. It’s almost scary; seeing him rather calm, a little sad, reduced to a heartbroken boy who just feels fucking bad for himself. You try to stay out of his way, focusing on getting plates of custard and cake out in time, with no mistakes. It’s a lot of ‘yes chef, thank you chef, great chef’. You’d almost actually prefer it like this.

You find him out back having a cigarette right before you’re gonna head out. He hasn’t bothered to put his sweater or coat on, arms bare against the cold night air as he blows the hot smoke into a cloud above him. “Hey,” you start, sitting next to him. It feels a little odd to be close to him - intimate, in a way that you’re not used to. “You seemed off tonight. Is something up?” You put your hand out expectantly for a cigarette, and he obliges, with his lighter to follow.

“No, chef,” he starts, dusting some salt from the street off his shoe. “Thank you though.” “You know I don’t have to be chef outside of that kitchen,” you bump a shoulder with him. “You’ve called me a lot of other names, God knows.” He stifles a laugh and looks at you again, with a softness in his features you’d never really seen before. “I just had a rough night last night, is all,” he finishes. “Just feels so fucking bad. I feel like I’m so bad at… this.” He gestures to the night sky around him. “I don’t know how to balance anything. I keep… I keep fucking losing people. People I like, people… people I fucking love. And like, what am I supposed to do about that?” You can see his face get hot as he lets the heel of his hand rub his eye. “You let it happen,” you finish, taking a puff of your own cigarette. “You do what you can and you let yourself feel it and you mourn and grieve until you can’t anymore, until it doesn’t feel right to anymore.”

He nods in agreement, letting you both smoke in silence. “Can I give you a ride home?” He asks, and you know what that means. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “Sure, thanks. Go get your stuff, I’ll wait here.” When he’s back, he locks the back door of the restaurant and lets you stand up first, following behind you.

When you make it back to your place, it’s different. He’s comfortable here now, having been in your space enough times to know where he was welcomed. Normally, it goes like, he’s panting down your neck before you can even get in the door, and once he’s put his stuff down, the back of your knees are hitting the mattress, wet sloppy kisses along your collarbones and neck, down over your breasts and down down down…

But he’s not being like that. When he sets his coat down, he finds his way to your couch. You pull a glass out of the cupboard to fill with ice and cold water, handing it to him before doing the same for yourself. “Can we… can we go to bed?” He asks, and it’s softer than usual. “Sure,” you smile, opening the door to your bedroom and watching as he strips bare, before pulling out a pair of grey sweat pants he had stashed in your closet. You’d stayed the night at his one time, so-affectionately wearing them in the morning to make him a cup of morning coffee, and decided just to wear them home. “Keep them,” he had said to you that day, “just in case.”

When he climbs in between your white sheets, he seems to instantly relax. He generally did after work, from what you saw - and even though he often had a hard time letting the day go, it seemed like whenever he was with you, he could let it go a little easier. You grabbed a pair of pyjamas for yourself and slid them on, before cracking the window slightly and letting the cool breeze in. The chain around his neck glistened in the moonlight, as he let his eyes flutter closed, just for a minute. When you let your hand brush over his arm, tracing the faded inky lines of his tattoos, he opened one eye slightly, eliciting a small laugh from the side of his mouth. “Feels nice,” he offered, soft against the sounds of the nighttime. “Would you be offended if we didn’t fuck tonight?” His eyes are still closed, and even though it seems a bit ridiculous to ask, you can tell it was hard for him to get the words out. It didn’t really mean that, it meant, can we just be here, together, and enjoy each other for a night? Do you want me here if not for that?

“Of course not, Carmen,” you let your head hit the pillow, kissing his shoulder and letting your hand grasp his bicep. “You never call me Carmen,” he comments, voice soft, before he looks over at you. “I kinda like it. Only you, though.” You let the curls of his hair tangle around your fingers as he started to drift off, you following not long after. And it’s actually fine this time.

#carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fanfic #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy x you #the bear fx fanfic #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfic

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ciaonicole85 · 18 days

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Part 2: What Then?

I promise I have a life, but I couldn't help writing part 2 today! This takes place the same day as the "Development Day" when Syd and Carmy are thrown off by each other's answers during an ice breaker activity. Post-season 2. Feel-good fluff.

Photo Credit @drrav3nb / drrav3nb.tumblr.com

"So those are the menu changes for Chicago Restaurant Week. If you have questions, feel free to ask me or Chef Sydney. You should also have an email from Natalie by later today. Okay, let's prep for night service!"

Carmy closed the meeting, grateful that it was finally over. He was no longer afraid of public speaking after rising in the ranks of various kitchens, but his mind was not in this ever since the ice breaker. He, Carmen Berzatto, had made Sydney's favorite meal ever? The last time he prepared the pork confit and the Milk and Honey dishes she mentioned was several years ago. Back then he was at Eleven Madison Park, a rising star on the culinary scene, who chain-smoked, slept 3 hours a night, and was berated by the EC daily. It was a nightmare peppered with flashes of genius. He was dying to ask her about it, but before he could get her attention Sydney had slipped into the kitchen.

He stared disappointed at the window that separated the dining area and kitchen.

"Hey Bear, what's up with you?" Richie said sidling up to him trying to follow his gaze.

"Nothing cousin."

"Yeah, right. I missed when it happened, but it seems like you crashed and had to reboot during the meeting. Then you were lost in Sydney-land. Want to talk about it?"

Carmy rubbed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. When he used both hands, Richie knew without a doubt he had hit on something.

"First, cool it about Syd. That handout you gave us was really cute. And yes, there's something on my mind, but it's not for me to say."

Richie grinned and rubbed Carmy's shoulder.

"Fine, just get your head together because tonight is going to be loaded and it includes three anniversaries and a birthday. And second, you need to cool it about her or do something. It's like I'm living in The Wonder Years with Kevin and Winnie."

"What?"

"Oh, right. That's probably before your time. Kids!"

With that Richie sauntered over to the host stands to strategize with the wait staff and hosts.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sydney who had a thousand things to do, was adding at least a hundred more onto her plate. She didn't want to appear like she had a moment to spare. She and Carmy could talk at the end of the night as usual, without any eavesdropping. This would also give her time to think of an explanation as to why she never mentioned eating at Eleven Madison Park and that she wasn't a stalker who followed him to The Beef. To top off this awkward sundae, Carmy casually admitted his favorite part of the day was closing, the only time they are alone every day. She hoped no one else had connected the dots on that last part.

The afternoon and the night never went quicker to her chagrin. Even when one of the line cooks was sent home due to illness and a large group put in an order for 7 Fishes two minutes before tickets closed, she thought the night couldn't last long enough. Fortunately, Carmy seemed resigned to waiting and didn't look at her more than usual. In a flash service was over and no one was in the mood to hang around. By 11:00pm Sydney had cleaned her station for the third time and forced herself to go to Carm's office. He sat there pretending to do busy work, patiently waiting like a child who consoled himself that his parents wouldn't make him wait too long to open his Christmas presents.

"Hey Syd...it was a good night," he said softly not wanting to scare her away.

Sydney nodded and took a seat. Might as well get it over with it.

"Okay, yes. You made the best meal I've ever had. During a break at the CIA, I went to NYC and ate everywhere on my list, including Eleven Madison Park. It was a Wednesday night and I ordered several things including pork confit and Milk and Honey."

Sydney couldn't help closing her eyes and smiling at the memory. Her guard began to slip.

"Carm, it was like tasting my future and the best part of my past at the same time. I asked the waiter who made those dishes and he said Carmen Berzatto."

Carmen leaned forward on the desk. Whenever Sydney praised him, he felt like a cactus in an unexpected downpour. He wouldn't waste a single word. Her sunny existence and her belief in him sustained him during his dry seasons. He reached for her whenever he looked at the debt they still owed Uncle Cicero, when his mother finally visited The Bear and cried saying that he had erased Mikey, and even when their success seemed too good to be true.

Sydney opened her eyes to find him looking at her in the way he had. It was terrifying because she had a very specific plan for her career. It also thrilled her, knowing the power she had over him. Five months ago, she had been begging for his focus and now she knew every her mood, glance, and word she spoke impacted him. Once for the fun of it during a slow night she stared at him until she drew his attention and smiled. He blushed, smiled back, came towards her without saying "corner", and crashed into one of the servers, sending three Michael cannoli to the floor. That was three months ago when she first realized something was going on with him. She'd refused to abuse her power since, going so far as to convince herself that she was overestimating his feelings. Then he said the best part of his day was closing. She hoped, well sort of hoped, that they could maintain this close, but not too close partnership and friendship without complications.

After a long pause Carmen sighed and sat back in his chair.

"So, how did you find me?"

"Well, like I said when we met, it was the job posting. I recognized your name and also The Beef from my dad taking me here."

She shrugged thoughtfully.

"It felt like it was meant to be. It gave me hope for the first time since Sheridan went under."

He nodded.

"It's really strange. You came here because I inspired you and the only reason, I felt capable of attempting something this big was because of you" he said gesturing to the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Sydney whispered.

"Yeah."

He stood up and walked around to sit on the desk facing her. Now, Sydney felt vulnerable looking up at him. It was so easy for him to unnerve her when he spoke this way, like under the table.

Carmy took one her hands and after a moment brought it to his lips.

"Thank you for telling me, Syd. It means a lot."

Sydney was unable to speak. Her throat had closed.

"Soon, is your one year work anniversary and I think we should celebrate."

She nodded.

Carmy set her hand down.

"It's late. I'll drive you home."

With that they left the office, gathered their stuff, and walked to his car in silence.

As they drove, Sydney attempted to talk herself down. Was that hand kiss, an Italian thing? Possibly. It also seemed like Carmy decided to do...something, but what? Worse, she was feeling like they had traded positions in mere seconds. She'd enjoyed having the upper hand. Oh, well. With a goodnight's rest she'd be back in form tomorrow. Maybe "accidentally" brush past him, or ask him to lift something heavy for her and comment on his strength. Then it would be game over for poor Carmy bear. For now, she wouldn't worry about the work anniversary. It was probably just going to be a cake Carm commissioned Marcus to bake.

Probably.

#the bear #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy the bear #sydney adamu #fan fiction #syd adamu #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #they are so cute

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

make my heart surrender (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) | chapter two: wednesday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, lots of angst in this one, use of she/her pronouns, allusions to sex, eventual smut, smoking (plz remember smoking is injurious to your health, ppl), avoidance tactics, mentions of al-anon, no use of y/n, second person pov, mentions of death/mikey's suicide

word count: 3.3k

summary: while you get to know the kitchen staff of the bear a little better, you and carmy finally acknowledge the elephant in the room.

a/n: the song 'about you' by the 1975 makes me think of these two and is where the title comes from. also, i totally made up the pete has an airbnb thing but i just feel like he'd be in real estate or something with his little patagonia vests lol. anyways, happy valentine's day babes & enjoy!

read: part one | masterlist

Wednesday

“Okay, this is some next level shit,” Marcus concludes, in between chews as he tries the brioche donuts you let rise overnight. “It’s got everything I like about the yeast donut but the flavor is so much more pronounced.”

“Carmy said you knew how to throw down but.”

Sydney nods, taking another bite of hers, and you watch as Fak holds the donut up to his ear, letting out a wild, “Wow.”

“Oh fuck,” Sydney practically groans, the salty-sweet flavors of the caramel hitting her taste buds.

Last night, pre-dinner shift, you were introduced to the colorful cast of characters that filled up this kitchen. There was Richie, Carmy’s not-biological-cousin cousin, and Tina, who’d been working in this kitchen since before any of you were born. And Neil the handyman, who somehow actively chose to go back his last name, Fak, which puzzled you. Then there was Ebrahim, who seemed to serve as the meat prep cook and the onsite first-aid guy. And Sydney, the brilliant sous who’d worked in fine dining kitchens till she came here, eager to learn from Carmy.

It was a far cry from the kitchens you and Carmy used to work in but this kitchen there were similarities… things every kitchen has. Everyone has their own little quirks, preferences, styles….

They’re just a little more, well, allowed to be themselves and while overwhelming, you find it refreshing as well.

Fak smells the donut next, followed by another ‘wow,’ and your eyes widen as Fak begins licking just the icing.

“Wow,” Fak repeats, carrying on his more-than-peculiar behavior.

“Is he-?” you start, sharing a look with Sydney next.

…alright? Is this normal? Is he okay?

“Yeah, sometimes we just let him–,” Sydney tries to explain, but she’s not quite sure how to explain Neil Fak to anyone outside of their ecosystem.

“Okay.”

“Anyways, so this is just a personal preference and perhaps a symptom of too much time spent in fine dining, but I like to fuck around with weird flavors,” you continue to explain, in reference to the salty miso caramel creme pat you’ve filled the donut with.

“I’m not much for too sweet-of-sweets,” you announce, earning a laugh from Marcus and Sydney. “... which yes, is a very odd thing to say for a pastry chef. So I like to find combinations that cut the sweetness of anything and give the taste buds another experience at the same time.”

“Which isn’t the direction you have to take your pastries, chef.”

Marcus shakes his head, “No, this is… super cool. And I like it a lot.”

“I apologize in advance if I sound like a total loser,” Sydney starts, placing her donut down on the paper towel. “But when I was at the CIA, I actually had your lemongrass creme brulee.

“With the black sesame ice cream?”

“And the sesame crumble.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim. What a blast from the past. “Yeah, I had to fight hard to get some of those ingredients on the menu. You know. Before everyone thought it was cool to do shit like that.”

Sydney smiles in agreement, going back for more of her donut.

“So what’re we workin’ on next, chef?” Marcus asks. He has his notebook out and has a few renderings drawn up with ideas he had last night.

“Well now that we’ve built a great brioche together, I’d love to keep practicing your piping technique and-,” you begin, stopping mid sentence as Carmy joins the three of you.

“Mornin’, chef! Hey, try this,” Marcus greets, ecstatic about the results of just a day of working with you, as he hands Carmy a donut.

He takes it, immediately taking a bite. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he processes and dissects every single flavor note he experiences. You’re all quiet as you wait for his response.

And honestly, you’re still pretty pissed off about him leaving you hanging the day before. After you and Marcus finished up your prep, you had made your way back to your airbnb – the one he set you up in when he asked you to come here.

You had tried your best not to feel like a total loser as you hoped he'd reach out with an explanation. No call, no text, no nothing, wondering why he asked you to come in the first place.

Carmy takes his time savoring his first bite.

“I almost forgot how good you are at this,” he compliments, his tone neutral as if it’s just a fact.

“Thank you, chef,” is all you say back to him. You clear your throat, avoiding his gaze, and continuing to go over today’s bake with Marcus.

You don’t mean to ignore Carmy, but you’re not sure how to act around him either. One minute he’s ignoring you, and the next he’s making you breakfast. And then he’s standing you up, leaving in the hands of his brash cousin? Maybe, you think to yourself, it’s best to keep things professional between the two of you.

You work with Marcus till an hour or so into the lunch shift. You both agreed to start your days early, since you’re only here for a week, so that you could cram as much knowledge in as possible.

Marcus asks if he can take point on flavor pairings for tomorrow’s donuts, and you agree, before parting ways till later this evening. You’ve got to come back later today from one more late night prep.

You haven’t spoken much to Carmy at all since he came in. As much as you’ve tried to focus all of your attention on working with Marcus, Carmy has a commanding presence as he expedites. He’s got something most chefs don’t – true leadership – and it seems like his skills have only improved since he left New York. You gather up your things, preparing to take the subway home for a midday nap, heading out the back door.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were… out here,” you gasp. You're surprised to find Carmy sitting behind the shop, sitting a few stacked crates and smoking a cigarette.

Well, that part isn’t surprising – the smoking part. You contemplate taking a seat next to him and asking him for one, but you’re really trying to cut back these days.

“It’s-, you’re good,” he says, taking another drag. He exhales smoke and the eery feeling of deja vu overtakes you.

Instead of leaving, and continuing this game of avoidance, you stand your ground.

“Are you avoiding me?” you finally muster up the courage to ask. You try your best not to sound as angry with him as you are, to no avail, as more words begin tumbling out of your mouth. “Because, if I recall correctly, Carmy, you asked me to come out here.”

Carmy waits a beat, avoiding your gaze, and it only infuriates you further. You watch as he takes another hit off of the cigarette as you continue, your rage boiling up within you.

“I don’t get it!” you exclaim, shaking your head in pure disbelief. You’re trying your best not to shout. “You ask me to come out here, and make it as easy as possible for me to be here by putting me up in this airbnb, you make me breakfast, and then… what? It’s like-, it’s like I don’t exist?”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s always been like this with you. One step forward and five steps back.”

You wait before saying the next thing.

You’re not trying to be mean, but you’re hurt, and this whole experience has all been so confusing.

“I guess I was fucking idiot to believe that you-, that you wanted me out here or something.”

“That’s not true,” Carmy denies, finally breaking his silence. Finally looking at you, even if just for a moment. His eyes return to the concrete pavement below him as he says, “I just-.”

You don’t want to scare him away now that he’s finally talking to you, but you also want answers. And there’s an elephant in the room that maybe, if you both just acknowledged it, could go away. He puts his cigarette out on the cement beneath his feat, tossing it away onto the concrete.

You lower your voice before speaking again.

“Are you… do you still feel weird about what happened between us?” you ask cautiously, eager to fix whatever the hell it is between the two of you. “Because I didn’t think we’d have to talk about it since, well-, I just thought we said we’d just forget it. I mean, I’m not-, I don’t-, I just don’t want things to be this weird between us, Carm."

In some ways, you don’t blame him. You had seen him at his absolute lowest: the day Mikey died. You wonder if he felt too ashamed of how vulnerable he had been. You wondered if he still felt weird about what had happened next….

You had argued with him that day – practically demanded that he not go in for dinner service that night. You knew he had wanted a distraction, but after the phone call, after learning what Mikey had done, you knew he was wrecked – even if he wouldn’t admit it. That level of denial couldn’t be healthy, but he'd snapped at you and you didn't think there was much you could do about it. It didn’t take long for him to blow up at a line cook mid-shift, and you had quickly ushered him into the walk-in.

“Hey! You can’t do this shit. Not here. These people look up to you!” you had chastised him. “Listen, I’m going to give you five minutes to fuckin’ lose it in here, and then you’ve gotta pull it together and finish dinner service, okay?”

Carmy had grabbed at his chest, and you knew he was having one of his breathing episodes.

“Carmy, are you o-?"

He’d held out his hand, as if to stop you from coming any closer, so reluctantly, you’d left him to it, closing the door behind you. The sound of empty storage containers being thrown across the walk-in filled your ears, reinforcing your exact reasons why you hadn't thought it was a good idea for him to come in that night.

That night, you had made sure he got home okay, and he’d practically begged you to stay with him. It hadn’t been the first time you’d slept in the same bed, and you knew he was at his lowest point, in need of company. It hadn’t been until he started crying – sobbing really – that he finally broke.

“Carm,” you had whispered, unsure if he wanted you to acknowledge it or not.

“Carmy.”

He had turned to you so tenderly, practically folding himself into your body. You had never seen him like that as he’d buried his face into your chest, his body shaking against yours.

“I’m so sorry, Carm. I’m so sorry,” you had whispered, over and over again. You stroked his hair, wanting nothing more than to ease the pain of your best friend, but you knew there wasn’t much you could do. You’d let him cry, continuing to run your fingers along his scalp and through his delicate curls, desperate to give him any kind of comfort your could.

When he finally looked up, all he could think to do was to kiss you. You had been taken aback -- caught off guard as you'd pulled away from him.

“Carmy, stop it. You’re not-, you’re not okay right now,” you had said, pushing him away.

At that moment, his eyes were swollen, his face red, and he looked like you had just kicked his puppy. He had leaned his head against your chest again with a sigh, letting out another sob, and you’d felt that he’d put you in an impossible position.

You’d have been lying if you said you hadn’t wanted it – hadn’t thought about it before – but Carmy had never given you any inkling that he was even interested in dating anyone. You had been perfectly fine being ‘just friends’ with him despite the whispers between the kitchen staff when no one thought you were listening. And now? You knew he wouldn’t be in the right headspace. It wouldn't be fair to either of you.

“I’m sorry, Carm,” you’d apologized softly. “I just feel like-, well I’d feel like I'd be taking advantage. I don’t think we should.”

His silence had only made you more nervous, beginning to over explain yourself.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I-, I do. I just… I don’t want you to regret it because… because you’re upset right now and cause you more-.”

“Please,” was all he'd said, breaking his silence and looking up at you with those sad, swollen blue eyes. He leans in to kiss you once more.

“Please.”

In between kisses you’d managed to ask, “Are you- are you sure? Is this really what you-?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Just-, please,” he whispered, murmuring your name into the soft kisses he had left on your skin. “Just wanna feel good.”

“Just wanna feel good.”

It was then that you’d realized what absolute fucking idiots the two of you had been for the past few years by ignoring this thing between the two of you.

The truth was that you were fully, wholly, and stupidly in love with each other.

“Yes,” you’d repeated, finally giving into him.

Even though it should’ve been a beginning, it felt like an end, but for one night, you’d indulged the both of you.

“I know,” he says, his voice pulling you back into the present. His eyes are fixated on the pieces of gravel that sat between his feet. Even though you both agreed to it, he hadn’t forgotten about what happened between the two of you and he’s not sure if he should tell you that too.

But that’s not what’s wrong. It’s not why he’s avoiding you. Or maybe it’s part of it. He hadn’t expected seeing you to be this hard. That it would bring it all back – wanting you – so much so that those incredibly big feelings had sent him running to a meeting.

He just needed a place to be unapologetically fucked up.

He’s not sure what he thought would happen – like you’d just fall into the same old rhythm of your friendship without a care in the world.

He’d called Sydney yesterday and he could barely breathe. Sydney had told him to take the night off – that it wouldn’t help to come back to the kitchen that night – and that he had a whole week of you to prepare for. To figure this shit out.

“I um,” he starts. He’s not sure why it’s so hard to get these words out; why it feels so difficult to tell you. “I’ve kinda been going to these al-anon meetings…ever since, well you know… since I got home.”

“Oh.”

Well that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say. You’re not sure what you were expecting him to say. That he hates you? That he couldn’t stand being in the same kitchen with you and yesterday brought it all back? That it was a mistake reaching out to you?

You sit down on the curb, next to Carmy, leaving plenty of space between the two of you.

“My sister nagged me to go. Thought it was bullshit but… I don’t know why I kept going back. I still go three times a week.”

You stare at the ground, not sure what to say next. All that comes out is:

“Well I feel like an asshole.”

He scoffs, moreso to himself, “No, you’re not. I-, I’m sorry. I should’ve-.”

You can tell he’s frustrated as he huffs, “I don’t know why this is so hard for me to tell you.”

You sigh, scooting a hair closer to your old friend.

“I don’t know either, Carm. I-, we used to tell each other everything.”

“I know.”

You catch his gaze, your eyes meeting with his, and it feels like you can’t breathe for a moment.

“I should’ve called. Should’ve kept in touch. Guess I just feel like-, I don’t know,” Carmy admits, regretfully. “I know I’ve been….”

“Uh huh. You’ve been….” you trail off.

“But I do. Want you here.”

And that’s the problem, he thinks to himself.

“I know I’ve been a dick. I shouldn't have-.”

You take a breath, processing all of it.

“Can we… not have this conversation again?” you ask, taking a lighter tone this time. “I mean, we sorta had a very similar conversation to this yesterday… and now today… like… are you gonna stop being such a fuckin’ weirdo or what?”

He lets out a small laugh, “Yeah. Yeah I-, I’m gonna stop, well, you know.”

You chuckle in response, continuing to tease him, “Good because… you know usually when your friend comes to town you hang out a little, catch up, say hey hello how are you? I mean, maybe I’m totally out of pocket for this, but sometimes, you know… they even hug. Yeah, Carm, like, normal people.”

“Oh fuck you,” he mutters, jokingly.

It’s quiet between the two of you, but for the first time in the last 48 hours, it's not weird. It’s a familiar quiet intimacy – something that reminds you of the before times.

Before Mikey died.

Before you hooked up.

“Hey, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to be here too,” you reassure in response to what he said earlier, bumping your shoulder up against his, playfully, earning the slightest smile from him.

“How’s the place?”

“Surprisingly, very nice,” you answer, a mischievous tone in your voice like you know it’s going to start something.

“What? You think I’d put you up in a shit place?” Carmy asks, feigning offense.

“I’ve been in your New York apartment, Berzatto. Which is mostly why we spent most of our days off at mine,” you continue.

He laughs dryly in response.

“My brother-in-law manages a few airbnbs so… it’s the least I could do for… you know… you comin’ out here,” he explains.

“Well thanks. It’s-, it’s great.”

“I gotta get out of here early, and pick up the kid. Have a goodnight, sweetheart,” Richie says to you, about to head out of the restaurant.

“Richie, what the fuck did I fuckin’ tell you about saying shit like that!” Carmen shouts back at his cousin, with an eye roll.

“So sorry,” Richie says sarcastically, emphasizing your name after. “Gotta woke-ify everything in front of Carmen. Just a little baby.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Carmy yells across the kitchen, moving quickly through the closing shift chores.

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie brushes off Carmy’s comment with an eye roll.

“See you fucks tomorrow.”

“This look good, chef?” Marcus asks you, motioning for you to come over and take a look at the mixer.

You reach down into the mixer, checking the dough for texture.

“Yeah, looks good. Go ahead and grab a few sheet pans so we can shape these and we’ll cover ‘em so they can proof overnight,” you order, Marcus nodding in response.

“Thank you, chef.”

As Marcus disappears, in search of a few sheet pans, Carmy’s wiping down one of the prep stations.

“Hey, you,” you say, a smile on your face as soon as you see him.

After your talk this afternoon, things feel lighter. He feels lighter.

“Hey,” he says, finishing up with his cleaning duty before making his way over to you. Carmy checks to see that Marcus hasn’t come back yet, and you notice.

“Great dinner service, huh?” you congratulate.

“We’re gettin’ there,” he replies. “Smoothest it’s been so far. Since the reopen.”

Ah yes. The reopen. You’re still waiting to hear that story.

“I was thinkin’, maybe we could do that catch up thing? Over a drink?” Carmy proposes, changing the subject, and you think to yourself that it’s the most confident you’ve ever seen him.

“I-,” you start, as Marcus makes his way back towards the pastry area. “We’ve got one more late night prep tonight. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, spotting Marcus as well. “Tomorrow’s good.”

“Goodnight, Carmy.”

“Goodnight.”

read: part three

#Spotify #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #make my heart surrender

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miley1442111 · 2 months

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memory fails- c.berzatto

a/n: this is lowkey saddddd but wtv. this was intended for fem!reader but it's only mentioned once so feel free to imagine what you like :) also I fucking love Monk.

summary: there's no way carmy forgot such an important date, right? You'd better go down to the restaurant and check.

pairings: carmenberzatto x reader, platonic!syndeyadamu x reader

warnings: breaking up, parental loss, failing relationship, mean carmy, brief mention of sex, mentions of feeling used in a relationship, smoking.

Everything was too loud. His head hurt, his body ached and all he fucking wanted was to be at home, with you. He stepped outside the noisy kitchen and lit a cigarette, a habit he knew you hated but he just couldn’t take this anymore. Why did I leave my bed this morning? He asked himself again and again.

This morning, you were beside him, arms wrapped around his neck as he lazily kissed a trail up your neck, electing small giggles from your drowsy state. Today was meant to be his day off, but fucking Nat called him in for a meeting with Cicerio, a meeting that didn’t even happen. So now, here he was standing outside his own restaurant, the last place he wanted to be right then. He had spent the day practicing fucking timing in the kitchen. The sun was setting, he knew he’d missed the day with you. He knew you’d be upset. Never mad, always just upset, or frustrated. Just never fucking mad. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you mad. He brought the cigarette to his lips again as he smiled at the image of you that morning, one that will be burnt into his brain forever.

“Cousin! Your girl’s here!” Richie shouted from inside and Carmen’s daydream was shattered. He exhaled the remaining smoke and off he went, back inside where he saw you, arms crossed against your chest, looking guarded and upset.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked as he pulled you into his office for some privacy. Richie, Tina and Sydney gave him stern looks.

“You remember what today is, right?” You asked him, a slight wobble in your voice. He scoured his brain for a few seconds and that was all you needed. “You don’t.”

“Sunshine, I’m sorry I-”

“Carm, if you don’t have time for this relationship anymore then what are we doing?” you sigh, sitting on the small black couch in the corner. “I’m sick of feeling like I don’t matter.”

“Sunshine, what? You matter more than anyone, more than anything! Wh-where is this coming from?”

“It’s my dad’s anniversary. You didn’t show up. Sydney showed up, Nat showed up, Tina showed up, hell, even fucking Cicero showed up! And my own boyfriend didn’t? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You were getting mad. For the first time ever he was seeing you get mad. His heart broke. He had made you mad. He made his sunshine mad. “I just wanted 45 minutes of your time to visit his grave!” That’s why it was just him and Ritchie in the restaurant earlier.

“Fuck…” He sighed out.

“Yeah Carmen, ‘fuck’! At this point, I’m kind of ready to break up Carmen! If this is how important to you I am, then maybe we’re fucking done!” You shouted, the entire restaurant and kitchen could hear you, thank god there were no customers but fuck, how could he miss such an important date?

His face dropped. You couldn’t actually mean that, right?

“Sunshine please-”

“No Carmen. I come second to fucking everything in your life! Today was the day you promised to be there for me! It’s not fucking fair.”

“Sunshine, you know that work is important,” he tried to reason and when he looked up he knew he had made a grave mistake.

“More important than me? More important than my dad’s fucking one-anniversary? More important than being there for me?” you challenged.

“Yes! Sometimes, yes! Not everything is always about you!” He shouted, and trust him, he knew he shouldn’t have. What he really wanted was to apologise and spend the next few days making it up to you. But he didn’t. He just dug himself a deeper hole. “Fuck’s sake- sunshine, just drop it!”

Had he had the emotional strength to look up, he would’ve seen the hurt evident in your face. He would’ve noticed the way your eyes glazed and how you started shaking.

“Fuck you.” You practically whispered. “Fuck your restaurant and fuck this shit. I have to at least allow myself some fucking self-respect Carmen! You don’t get to treat me like this anymore! We’re done.” You turn on your heel, walking out of the restaurant as Sydney follows after you, and Richie starts giving Carmen hell.

“Yo, that seemed pretty heated back there-” She started saying, trying to catch up to you.

“Please Syd, just… leave me alone,” you sighed, leaning against the wall outside the restaurant.

“I’m sure this is just… like he’s just being a dick-”

“He forgot the one thing I needed him to remember. The only fucking thing I asked him to remember. I never care when he misses my birthday, any and all family things, fucking date nights. I never care. I’m always understanding. But I’m so done. I’m done with this feeling- I-I’m just… I feel like I’m the only one who cares, y’know? Like I’m the only one who ever puts any fucking effort into our relationship, a-and when he finally does, it’s like he’s expecting a fucking medal for just… being a boyfriend. And I understand that he’s struggling, but there’s only so much comforting and support I can give before I feel like I’m being used. I am being used Syd. All he does is come home and he's either crying or manic, or mad, so I comfort him, and then he asks if he can fuck me, and of fucking course I say yes, because he’s looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes. And then he turns over and falls asleep, and I’m fucking alone again. I’m struggling too! My dad died! My…” You trailed off as Sydney pulled you into a comforting hug. “I fucking hate myself for staying with him, just hoping he’d be better,” you explain as sobs wrack your body. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you.

“He’s an asshole, and I think we both know you’re better without him, but I get this is hard too. How about we go back to yours and watch some Monk? It was your dads favourite, right?” She offered, a kind smile on her lips.

“Yeah, thanks,” you smiled through your tears.

“I’ll go grab my stuff, be back in a minute,” she smiled and walked back inside the building, leaving you with your thoughts.

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

“I-is she ok?” Carmen’s eyes were on Sydney as she walked back inside the building.

“Fuck you Carmen,” Ritchie sighed, as Sydney started grabbing her things from her locker, ignoring his question. “You don’t deserve to know if she’s ok!”

“You didn’t go either!” Carmen pointed out.

“Yeah, cause I went with her to the grave yesterday, y’know, since I have my fucking job today?!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Look, I’m heading out, night,” Sydney mumbled out as she slung her bag over her shoulder, walking swiftly towards the door.

“Wait! Just… a-are we broken up then?” Carmen asked, terrified of the answer. The restaurant stilled.

“Yes,” all of them answered, Tina’s voice the loudest. It was unanimous. You were gone from his life. Carmen stalked into his office and slammed the door, a loud “Fuck!” could be heard, as well as things falling to the floor.

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

Sydney walked back out to you and grabbed your arm, whisking you away from The Bear and to her couch, binge watching episodes of Monk with her and her dad, popcorn and beer in your hands until you inevitably fell asleep on her floor.

Carmen didn’t sleep that night. He just kept thinking about you that morning, the small smile in the darkness. Your soft skin against his lips and hands. Your lips against his. Your kind eyes. Your sing-song voice. Your sweet smell. Your perfect smile. Your determination and unbreakable spirit. You.

He had a lot to make up for, but how?

#carmy the bear #the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #the bear #syd adamu #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #fanfic #fandom

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cwritesforfun · 12 days

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The Bear: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x Fem!Reader: The Walk

Part One is linked here!!!

Part Two is linked here!!!

Masterlist

(YES, the plot has changed. I do not own The Bear characters.) Y/N = Your Name

Y/N’s POV

You throw on your cozy walk outfit and walk outside to meet Carmy. He should be here any minute. What he doesn’t know is that you packed a small little picnic for you both.

You wait on a bench until you see Carmy’s car pull up and he walks toward you. He’s holding two coffees and he exclaims, “I didn’t want to show up empty handed, so I brought you a coffee the way you like it.” How does he know what coffee you like?! You reply, “That was sweet of you, thank you.” He opens his arms to hug you and you hug him back. He’s so warm right now and he doesn’t smell like smoke. He smells really good. Shut up brain this is your boss that you are thinking about.

You both start walking around the park and you reach the area near the pond. You ask, “Fancy a picnic?” Carmy says, “Sure.”

You both sit on a bench and give Carmy a food haul from your tote bag. He seems excited about the burritos and after he takes a bite, he exclaims, “Holy shit. I swear if you were not employed already, I would hire you. This is so good.” You reply, “Thank you, Carmy. I don’t like cooking for more than like 4 people though. It really stresses me out. When I cook or bake, I feel more in control when I do smaller portions.” He replies, “I used to feel that way. Then I kept practicing and cooking, so it’s a way of life. If you ever want it to be yours, then it could be.” You reply, “Your way of life? Haha! I’ve always wondered, do you ever get super burnt out cooking for yourself because it’s your job every day.” He answers, “Haha wow we’re getting deep now… I do get burnt out cooking for myself. If I don’t want to cook, I will make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich then call it a day. I also have several quick recipes I know how to make in under 10 minutes if I am still in the mood after work. It depends on the day.” I ask, “What was yesterday?” He answers, “2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with milk.” I answer, “You’re getting a little crazy there.” He laughs then says, “Thank you so much for yesterday. I feel like I didn’t thank you enough for how you helped me. You really helped me not have a complete mental breakdown and ruin my relationship with my employees. I appreciated it and needed it." I reply, "I believe you said and I quote the light in the darkness of my mind. If I'm ever not at work, I'm only one call or text away. I do work and have class, but I also have time where I can be on my phone." He replies, "Thanks." You both talk about your anxieties for a while then sit in silence staring out at the pond.

You turn to Carmy and ask, "Random question, what did you tell Sydney that made her give you my address so willingly?" He asks, "She didn't tell you?" You answer, "No, she refused to answer it. She seemed really nervous about it though. I had to reassure her that it was okay that you visited and that you brought me a dessert." He nods and asks, "So it was okay that I came over? I didn't know if we were crossing some kind of boundary or if it was okay. I was also worried at what you might think, but I wanted to make sure you were okay." You reply, "And for that, I am very grateful. That caramel tart was all I ate that day besides an apple." He replies, "Then I guess let me know if you ever need a caramel tart any other night you get really bad anxiety. I can always drop it off after work." You reply, "Ok, yeah I might just take you up on that offer." He smiles. He has a cute smile and it makes you smile. You say, "You should smile more, Carmy. You have a nice smile." He smiles widely and says, "It's only for you these days, Y/N." Is he flirting with me or being nice to me?!?!??! You ask, "What do you think of the walk and the view of the pond?" He smirks and says, "I can think of a better view." OMG OMG OMG is he flirting with me again!?!!?!??! You laugh and say, "Oh... thanks." He exclaims, "I think I should tell you what I told Sydney. I told her that I cared about you and I wished I didn't because you're my employee. She gave it over once I told her that my feelings for you weren't going anywhere anytime soon... When Richie made that workplace romance joke yesterday, I was worried it would wreck anything we could've had together. I didn't want it lingering in your mind without knowing for sure. So, yes I like you. I know we just started bonding and we're both dealing with a lot of anxiety, so I'm okay if we wait to date. But, when you want to, I would like to be your first choice if you like me too." HOLY SH**!!?!??!!??!?! I'm freaking out on the inside. You say, "You're my first choice to date too. I'll admit that sometimes the thoughts of what we could be have come across my mind at work. I try to not focus on how attractive I find you while I'm working as the host or talking to Sydney in the kitchen as you cook." He smirks and says, "I find you attractive too, for the record." ok ok teehee this is it!!! LMK if I should write more of their story like the first date? first kiss? idk... also... pls be gentle with yourself and ily

Masterlist

#the bear imagine #carmy the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you

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