#the bear angst

[mrscarmenbearzatto]

lost in translation | carmen berzatto

you get a job working as a waitress at the bear. if only you knew it would get you here. ─ 3.68k ─ angst and fluff, breakups / fighting, some cursing, reader is younger then carmy.

THE STRANGERS PHASE

The first time you and Carmen met was when Nat and Richie had hired you as part of the Bear staff. 

A waitress, and a sweet looking one at that. Younger than him. "You guys finally settled on a candidate?" Carmen asks as Natalie and Richie watch you from the small window in the kitchen.

You sit there for a moment before adjusting the silverware, passing Richie's test almost immediately. "I believe we just did." Nat confirms. Carmen takes a look for himself and swears his heart skips a beat as he watches you for a brief moment before clearing his throat, having to pull himself away. "Okay. Cool." He brushes it off.

He didn't get the chance to meet you right away, not until the night before their soft opening. You'd been through training, getting used to the system at the Bear and getting accompanied with staff. All but one. The head chef and owner, 'Carmy' as everyone called him.

"Hey, you're the new hire, right?" A voice asks as you shut your locker. You jump a bit, as you turn, smiling. "I am." The male nods, holding out his hand. "Sorry about scaring you. I'm Carmen Berzatto, don't think we've had the chance to meet." He introduces.

You accept the handshake, swearing you feel a little spark between you two just from touching him.

───

From there, it was like clockwork. You and him would get stuck closing together, and each night you'd dive into a new part of his past. "So, what made you wanna open this place?" You question. He exhales, momentarily pausing his movements of scrubbing the counters before he sniffles. "My brother left it to me after his death."

You pause, staring at him. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked-" He laughs. "You couldn't have known. It's okay, really. I actually wanted to work here, or what used to be here, for the longest time by his side but he didn't let me. Never knew why. It was the thing he left me in his will." He gives a more in depth answer.

You nod slowly. "I'm sorry about that, Carm. His death and not letting you work here." You specify as you look at him. "If it's any comfort, I think your brother would be really proud of what you've turned this place into." You say.

He nods, sniffling again. You set your rag back in the soapy water, sighing as you mark off your final station to clean on the clipboard.

"See you tomorrow night?" He asks as you begin walking to the lockers.

You smile. "It's a date, chef." You confirm. He blushes at the idea of you and him being on a date.

───

Carmen swore to himself he'd take you on an actual date. The planning was easy, it was actually asking you that he found to be a challenge.

"So, are you seeing anyone?" He asks, trying to sound as casual as he can the next night when you two are closing, which didn't come for almost a week. Though he was grateful, it also felt like torture having to wait to get you alone.

"No, I'm not actually. Chicago hasn't exactly been my Paris, you know? City of love and all that bullshit." You answer as you stare at the chore list for that night. "Check the mayonnaise labels. Does Nat think our mayo is expired?" You question.

“Nat thinks all of our stuff is expired one way or another. It doesn’t expire ‘till the nineteenth of May.” He grabs out a knife to start chopping the vegetables. “Anyway, Chicago isn’t really known for its romance.” He points out.

"So I've been told." You stare at the menu. "What's a vegetable medley?" You question as you look back up at him, catching him staring at you. He clears his throat and quickly sets the knife down, wiping his hands on a towel. "Uh, it's a bunch of veggies like green and yellow bell peppers, asparagus and squash topped with balsamic vinegar.” He answers.

You nod slowly. “Only you can explain something like that and make it sound so good right now, Carm.” "Did you eat today?" He doesn't hesitate to ask. "Haven't had a chance to. Richie had me running around all day with the new system, but don't worry, I'm gonna make myself something at home."

"No, come on. I'm- You're not driving home hungry like that. It’s a safety risk. Sit." You go to protest before he repeats himself. "Sit."

The entire night was spent with you and Carmen eating his way too fancy dishes and talking. Sharing memories - childhoods, dreams, stories.

He likes to consider it your first date.

You like to consider it the night you fell in love.

───

You weren't sure what you and Carmen were after that night in the kitchen. Or how to even ask. Do you just come right out and say it? Is there a specific way or time to ask? Google provided zero help, so it was up to you to solve this one.

Maybe that’s what was driving you and Carmy apart for the next week: your mind trying to run through how to even approach that with him. It wasn't until he ambushed you at your locker that you were forced to approach the topic with him. "Not talking to you all week has been driving me insane. Are we okay? If dinner was too much.." He lets his voice trail off.

You smile, as you exhale. "Carmen, I loved dinner. I was just unsure of where we stood. Thought I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out if that was a date or not." You admit. He stares at you, nodding slowly. "Let me take you out to an actual dinner. A real date night." He requests.

You nod. "Okay, I'd like that." You barely have another chance to speak before Richie's calling your name. You place a hand on Carmen's shoulder as you pass him, giving him a small smile before you rush to find out what Richie needs you for.

Carmen watches you leave, wishing you'd come back to him.

Carmen had thought of your date night perfectly. A romantic, rooftop dinner overlooking Chicago’s nighttime streets. “You bring all the girls up to your rooftop, Berzatto?” You question as you stare at the cars passing by.

“Only the special ones.” He’d answer with a grin.

You wished he kissed you that night, but he didn’t. Instead he settled for dropping you off at your apartment before leaving. You could tell he wanted to kiss you, too, but he wanted to wait.

"So, you and Carmen?" Sydney asks as you help her open the Bear that morning, cutting vegetables up with her. You sigh, a smile on your face regardless. "How'd you hear about that?" You question in return.

“It’s the Bear. There’s no such thing called secrets when you work here. Everyone knows everything about everyone. Now, you and Carmy?” She asks again as you laugh. “There’s nothing going on between us. He and I got dinner a few times, but I don’t think it’s going anywhere.” You say with a shrug.

She stares at you, noticing the blush in your cheeks. You grin. “Don’t even. Nothing has happened between us.” You reiterate. She laughs, grabbing her bucket of vegetables. "Whatever you say!"

You roll your eyes, turning and staring at Carmen in the doorway. There he goes again, staring at you when you aren't looking. It doesn't slide past you that he has a noticeable sparkle in his eyes.

───

Of course the universe would have it out for you and Carmen to close together that night. As you two stand over the counters, cleaning them down, you decide to ask the question that had been plaguing your mind.

"What are you and I?" You ask, looking up at him for the first time. His scrubbing stops, as he looks back at you. "I want us to be together." He answers honestly, and you're a bit taken back by his honesty.

“You seem like you’ve thought about this.”

“More than you know.” Translation: I’ve thought about you.

You nod slowly as you walk over to the sink, beginning to wash your hands. "I want us to be together, too. I just don't want this to be weird between us because we work together, you know." You voice your concerns as you grab the towel, drying your hands.

You turn, finding him standing behind you. "I don't care if we want us to be together. I want us to give.. us.. a chance." He says, taking your hand in his. You stare at your hands interlocked as you hum. "Carmen."

"Yes?" He asks softly.

"If you don't kiss me right now I might just walk out and not come back." You tease.

He doesn't have to be told twice, and he kisses you like he's been thinking about it. Like he's been needing that. Hands cupping your face, yours finding his waist.

You didn't need much of an answer as to what you and Carmen were after that.

THE LOVERS PHASE

You and Carmen had agreed: the staff didn’t need to know you two were officially dating. If it was important enough to share, sure. But other then that, you two wouldn’t go around publicly announcing it.

Turns out, dating Carmen wasn't much different from being friends with him. Except now you were in the kitchen at two in the morning, slow dancing with him.

It'd started with dinner that night. Him holding you from behind,

Frank Sinatra plays lowly on the radio as he spins you around, with you grinning as you sway with him. “Who taught you to dance, Berzatto?” You question.

“Nat did. Taught me for her wedding. Said if I looked like a fish outta water she’d ban me from the reception.” He answers with a lovesick grin. You laugh, throwing your head back. “Sounds like Nat.”

He smirks. “And who taught you?” He asks in return. You hum as he pulls you closer to his chest, as Sinatra’s ‘The Girl from Ipanema’ plays. “I did. Convinced myself when I was a little girl I'd be like Misty Copeland.” You answer.

He grins. Only two weeks had gone by with him being officially yours, and he was falling in love with you. Maybe that’s why it spilled out as he held you close.

“I love you.” His voice is hushed.

You pulled away only a bit to look at his eyes. Maybe searching to see if they were genuine, if he said what you think he did. "Carmen..." You smile, a laugh coming out. "I love you, too." You repeat it back to him.

"Take the too out. Makes it sound like you're just agreeing." He requests softly, lips brushing barely against yours. You giggle at his plea, but comply anyway. "Carmen, I love you." You say it again, this time it feels more real.

Two weeks in, and you two are in love. If you knew any better, you'd assume you were screwed.

───

"What do you wanna do with your life?" The question startled you as you and Carmen sat on the balcony of your apartment, overlooking downtown Chicago. Buildings illuminating the night sky, car horns blaring every few minutes from the nighttime traffic.

"I wanna open a bar. Maybe go to Los Angeles or New York, just open my own place. You know?" You hold your knees up on the patio chair with you, a cup of tea in hand. "Some dive bar but... fancier. Live music, live entertainment."

He nods slowly, grabbing out his notepad. "Get out of Chicago?" He asks. You laugh. "Pretty much. Don't get me wrong, I love this city. This just.. isn't the plan." You say with a shrug.

"Mm." He says, scribbling something down on the paper. You lean over, staring at it. "What are you drawing, Berzatto?" You question. "Nothin'. It's a surprise, if I show you it now it won't be a surprise." He points out.

You grin as you lean your head back. "Okay. What about you? Is the Bear your final dream?" You question, still looking over at him. He sets the pen down, looking over the skyline. "I don't know. Though until I met you I had all my dreams and goals figured out."

"Don't say it-"

"You're my new dream." He grins, looking over at you. You laugh, rolling your eyes. "That was unbelievably cheesy, Berzatto. I don't know if I can ever look at you the same after that." You tease.

"You don't have to look at me to kiss me." He points out as you roll your eyes, standing up. You give him a quick peck as you open the door, stepping halfway inside. "Don't take too long getting to bed, okay? It's cold out here." You comment.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He waits until you're fully inside to pull back out the notepad. Sketched on is a logo for a bar, your bar. Your name written in what he imagines is neon lights. 'ANGEL'S BAR'. The way he views you, an angel. His angel.

He hums, standing up and making his way inside, the notepad tucked under his arm. He finds you in the living room, sorting through the mail. “Hey, hey, my old college roommate’s getting married. New York. What a terrifying city.” You laugh as you set the invite down, before his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you down to the bedroom. 

───

Carmen had spent so much time in your apartment that it practically felt like his own. So, the idea of asking him to move in wasn’t totally crazy. His clothes were now hung up in your closet, his cologne and cedarwood soap lingered.

Your relationship with Carmen had grown, so much so that you were now spending time with his family. You stood in the kitchen of the Berzatto home. Your first family dinner with them, and it had been more drama filled then a soap opera. Soft music filled the room, cinnamon roll scented candles lit making the house smell like a bakery. Your scarf hung on the staircase banister. 

"First official Berzatto dinner. How ya holdin’ up?" Sugar asks as she slides beside you, handing you a glass of wine to match her own. "Oh you know me so well. It's going.. as good as I expected it to be. Are they always this chaotic?" You question.

"Hell yes. The Berzatto family has never been calm, y'know?" She laughs. "But you seem to be fitting in nicely. And this is the first year of us doing one of these that Carmen truly seems happy, I think you're to thank for that."

You grin. "Well, as long as he's smiling." You and her watch him in the living room, chasing down the younger family members, laughing as they tackle him down to the floor.

"Yeah, well, I've seen Carmen with other girls before, and none of them have made him this happy. So, on behalf of the Berzatto family, thanks for bringing us a smiling Carmy." She raises her glass to you as you laugh, lifting yours as well.

Carmen watches as you clink glasses with Nat as he enters the kitchen. "You two doing good in here?" He asks. "Oh, we are doing wonderful. I should go find my husband." Nat says, smiling and walking out of the kitchen.

You sigh, setting your wine glass down behind you on the counter. "Hi." He greets, arms wrapped around your waist. You hum, wrapping yours around his neck. "Hey you." You reply, pressing your lips against his.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” He says quietly after he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

You smile, placing a hand on his cheek. “I’m glad too, Carm.”

───

Arguments in relationships are common. They’re healthy, they bring growth. You and Carmen had a fair share of disagreements but never ones where he called you the name he did tonight: clingy. 

“Can you just fucking leave me be for a second?! I don’t need you crowding me and being so- so fucking clingy.” Right in the office of the Bear, as you made sure he understood what was happening with Syd’s plans. 

Now here you were, in Nat’s living room. “He probably didn’t mean it, you know?” She asks softly as she pushes some of your hair out of your face, wiping tears that fall down your cheeks. “I think he’s just been so worried about our mom, her issues and the Bear.”

“What if he did mean it though? What if.. What if he was just with me out of convenience or pity?” You voice your worries. She shakes her head. “I have never seen Carmy as happy anywhere else as he is with you. He loves you, Y/n. He wants to be with you, no one else.” She replies.

“You don’t call the people you love clingy.” You point out. She sighs, letting you lay your head on her shoulder. No matter what she said, nothing changed how you felt. Carmen thought you were clingy. Whether subconsciously or not, he thought it. 

The thought made your heart ache. 

───

You were younger than Carmen, you knew that much from the moment you met him. But it had never been an issue in your relationship, until now it seems. A simple, offhand comment about kids and marriage you had made to Syd. You wanted those things, and you wanted them with Carmy. 

That’s what landed you in this position on a cold night, with him sitting on the armchair in front of you and you on the floor, crouched to try and read his eyes. Find any sign that you could get past this. 

“We’re just on different paths. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get this close to you. And I should have stopped myself before I hurt you.” Translation: you’re still young and I can’t hold you back.

He didn’t stay after that. His clothes still hung in your closet, with you on the floor of the living room. 

Translation: what now? 

THE ENEMIES STAGE 

“So, plans for you being in New York?” Diane asks as you and her sit on the rooftop of her apartment building. You sigh, as you lean back on your chair. “Drink a lot. Forget my relationship problems in Chicago and hope for the best.” You answer with a nod.

She rolls her eyes. “Come on. You can’t expect to fix your relationship in different states without talking.” She points out as you look over at her. “When did I hire you as a relationship therapist?” You tease. “Carm and I will be fine.” 

You couldn’t find the translation anymore for what “fine” meant. 

───

The wedding was gorgeous. Diane looked stunning and her husband was the sweetest man. The sun was setting over Manhattan, as you sat at the open bar perched on the rooftop. Staring at the missed call from a familiar contact: ‘Chef’s Kiss’. Carmy. 

Maybe you had asked him for too much. Wanting kids, marriage. He’d give them to you if you asked, you knew that. But the idea of him just putting up with that just to keep you? 

You didn’t return his call or any of his texts. Instead, you kept quiet until you returned to Chicago a week later. A box perched on your apartment doorstep with your belongings. Jewelry, shirts you left at his place. All of them except for the scarf that still sat on Donna’s staircase banister.

Maybe he kept it because it smells like you. Or because it reminded him of something pure. The one thing he really knew was now gone, and the scarf was a fragment of that. 

───

It didn’t shock any of the staff at the Bear when you turned in your notice and stopped working there. Or when you took the couch you and Carmy used to sit on during late night conversations and moved it eleven hours with you to New York. Along with his hoodies, the one you wanted to keep most because it smelled like him still. 

You didn’t delete the videos or photos you had with him. It feels too real if you do. 

You stared at the kitchen. Where he used to hold you, scolding you for how you handled knives. The balcony, where he told you that you were his new dream. The living room where he’d kiss you like it was the first time. The bedroom, where some nights, he made you his own, and others he held you while you slept. 

The only thing you found in the apartment that was foreign to you? A piece of notepad paper, with “ANGEL’S BAR” drawn on the front. You stuck that in your pocket as you made your way to your car. 

It hurts to look at. It hurts to think about him. 

Now it’s just you, in your hundred square foot apartment that you share with a roommate now. You manage to delete the playlist of songs that he loved swaying with you to in early mornings in kitchen lights. You learn his favorite melody by heart: stranger, to lovers, to enemies.

─── 

Closing that chapter of your life, you focused more on opening Angel’s Bar. His logo on the front, in downtown New York. Soft piano playing as chatter fills the room, drinks being poured in the corners. 

It may have just been Carmen’s luck to find you on opening night, chatting around with the customers as he watched from the window, a familiar red scarf wrapped around his neck to help fight the cold air.

Translation: it reminds him of innocence. It reminds him of the better part of himself, the one you brought out in him.

Carmen learned to take lessons from break-ups pretty early on into his life. The one he got from you?

“Falling in love isn't for the weak. So don't try it at home.” He closes the book that he was given as an assignment for his AA class.

Maybe you were his favorite melody after all.

𓍢ִ໋🔪 ♡₊˚ 🧣・₊✧

shine on, shine on, my loves!

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my carmen berzatto masterlist here for more fanfics!

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- mae

#maeberzatto #mae writes! #mae writes: the bear #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #the bear angst #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear fluff #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear fx

[springtyme]

51 ✨ for carmy 🐻

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐀𝐭 𝐀 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 ♡

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

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

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

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

word count: 2.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#springtyme writes #springtyme 1k celebaration #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen sandiego #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto angst #the bear fic #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #jeremy allen white x reader #the bear fandom #the bear #the bear headcanon #the bear angst #the bear fluff

[leviathanspain]

hi 🖤 idk if this is a good request? lol but i’d really like to read the ways carmen prefers to be with reader than claire/noticing she’s THE one and not the other way round, maybe there was a little bit of an overlap??? not necessarily cheating but- and how sugar or richie or syd notice that they are endgame

i wanna be yours

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: enemies to lovers, carmy likes the attitude he’s developed when he’s around you, far more than being with his girlfriend

part 2

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you knew he didn’t like you.

richie had hired you, after you had walked in with a pile of resumes, dropping off five copies of yours before walking off. he didn’t even get a word in, admiring your style of exiting instead.

he had called you not even an hour later and asked when you could start.

and here you were, a week into waitressing at the bear.

it was supposed to be this prestigious new restaurant opened by some hotshot chef. but you couldn’t be quite sure, chicago had just recently become your home. but quickly you learned the dynamics, except for him, who wouldn’t look you in the eye, let alone talk to him.

“y/n!” richie slammed a hand on the door, swinging it open, “third time calling, where is she?” he looked around in the kitchen, eyes searching for you.

richie looked at carm, who was just finishing a conversation with sydney, “yo cousin! have you seen your employee? her shift started twenty minutes ago!” his shouts drew eyes from the rest of the kitchen staff and carmy turned, sighing slightly as he walked up to richie.

“she’s your employee, cousin. you hired her, you deal with it.” his lip twitched up slightly and richie sighed, throwing his hands up, “it’s shot to hell, all of it!” he slammed another hand on the door and back to the front of house.

suddenly, you barreled through the kitchen’s back door, a bag on your shoulder, impossibly stuffed with belongings as you hurried to the locker room. carmy sighed with annoyance upon seeing you. he turned back around and tried to find something to busy himself with.

“hey boss,” you looked at carmy, who didn’t look up from his cutting, “sorry i’m late there was some-“ you had prepared an excuse! carmy didn’t say anything just shook his head, “don’t wanna hear it, go talk to richie.”

you felt your cheeks burn red with embarrassment as you bowed your head, shuffling past him and out of the kitchen.

“fucking finally! i was beginning to think you thought this shit was optional.” richie spat, throwing a towel at you, “start wiping down the tables for dinner.” you sighed, taking the towel off your chest, where it landed and stuck, and threw it onto a table.

for a moment, you watched as you wiped the table, before looking over at richie, who had his brows furrowed over the cash drawer.

“why does he hate me?” you had an arm on the counter, lips pouted slightly.

richie sighed, knowing exactly who you were asking about. “carmy’s just carmy.” you groaned loudly, “that’s all anyone ever says. it’s just an excuse for him to act like an asshole.”

richie shrugged, “that’s all i got. forget about it and just keep scrubbing, we don’t pay you for nothing, sweetie.”

you blew a breath out, doing just as he said.

“can you please tell carmy that i need friday off?” you hung onto richie’s arm, pulling him as he tried to run away from you earlier. you had been talking his ear off all day about your trip, and how you’ve been needing this.

richie pulled his arm back and held his hands up, “i’ll see what i can do. no promises though, friday night and it’s just me and you up here? we’ll see.” he tried to be realistic in a nice way, although he knew there was no way in hell you’d be able to get that day off.

“we’ll see isn’t good enough, rich. i really, really need this.” you had clasped your hands together to further express your desperation, and richie groaned, “ask him yourself then! im sick of having to be the bridge between you two.”

you blinked, “maybe if i knew why carmy hated me, then maybe i’d do something about it. but fine!” you walked over to the kitchen door, pushing it open. inside, you found the kitchen staff cleaning up. you refreshed your greeting with them before asking about carmy. sydney had directed you to the office, where only a dim light was the indicator that he was in there.

it took you a moment to build up the courage to knock, but the door swung open before your hand even reached it. carmy stood there, nostrils flared as if he had just taken a deep breathe, redness around his eyes, exhibiting his exhaustion.

there was genuine surprise on his face to see you, and you had to withhold a breath, “hey boss.” his blue eyes locked onto yours for a mere second before they floated away, resting somewhere on the wall behind you.

“what’s up?” his voice raised the question and you nodded, “right- i already talked to richie and he told me to ask you, and i don’t know if you’ll even say yes-“

“get to the point.” of course, you should’ve known by his fingers tapping against the door that he was getting impatient. he was important, and constantly busy, he didn’t have time for you or-

“i need friday off.” you breathed, feeling the release of your tension in your shoulders. you almost heaved just as he answered, unsure of what he would say.

“yeah, i guess that’s fine.” he shrugged slightly before clearing his throat. he closed his eyes slightly as your face lit up, “really? thank you, boss. i-“

“can i get past?” carmy interrupted your words and stared at the door, your body halfway covering it. “yeah- of course.” you scooted further into the office as carmy pulled on the doorknob. you felt the edge of the door tap your back, and you shuddered as it swung back and slammed as he left.

blowing out a breathe, you opened the door, eyes accidentally catching carmy’s, who was standing near the kitchen door. you looked away first, still reeling from the interaction in the office. as much grace as you’ve been giving him, it was getting exhausting having to hold yourself back.

“why is he so-“ you struggled for the words to describe your boss, especially to richie. you were frustrated, carmy’s constant dismissal of you, even when you were asking for something that would affect him and his workday, he didn’t care!

“y/n, it’s just cousin. he’s harmless, don’t worry about anything. you got the day off?” richie turned to look at you, your mouth still in a pout, but you nodded nonetheless, “yeah i did.”

“that’s good! just be happy you got it off, hmm?” he tried to be a mediator, tried to be nice and hear you out, but after hearing the two of you express your anguish over the other, day after day, he was getting sick of it. “why’d you ask for it off again? i thought you didn’t have a life.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you stared at the ground for a moment, “that’s true. it’s my father’s- was, my father’s birthday.” you laughed slightly, pausing before speaking again, “he grew up here, going to the local theater with his father for his birthday every year. we’d make family trips every year to come back to chicago, watch movies with him in the same theater and share a slice of cake. after he passed, my sister and i were the only ones who did it for a while, but then she got married and suddenly, it was just me.” you shrugged, “and then i moved to chicago permanently, into the same house that my father lived in. and i got a job here.” you smiled weakly, “yeah.”

richie nodded, “yeah.” matching your tone of voice. he didn’t want to speak, letting himself sit with that. you were nice enough, a good kid, and he saw something in you, a little spark just wanting to be ignited fully. he didn’t know what it would take, but it seemed like you didn’t either.

carmy hadn’t realized that he had eavesdropped the entire conversation between you and richie until richie came into the kitchen, slamming the door against carmy, who had stood there, frozen, captivated by your story.

“cousin- get the hell out of the way!” richie barely glanced at carmy, too in a rush to even think to slow down.

carmy looked down at the door as he pushed the door open, out into the dining room. he looked up to see you wiping down the counters. you had a wet rag under your hand, and you were lost in thought as your hand moved in a circular, repetitive motion. you didn’t even notice him as he inched closer, unsure of what he was going to say when you noticed him.

“hey.” carmy realized he was speaking, and as you looked up, your attention. you couldn’t help but smile, this was the first time that you had seen him so still, and so in thought.

“hey.” you returned his greeting, letting the rag go, you turned your full attention to him. he laughed nervously and that made you smile even more. it was odd, how he changed so suddenly with you.

you raised an eyebrow, “is there something wrong?” he hadn’t said anything else, just staring in thought.

he shook his head, and returned himself to the kitchen.

“weird.” you exhaled, watching as the door swung shut behind him. how could carmy go from being the biggest asshole to you, to randomly greeting you then going silent.

you’d talk to richie about it later, but for now you had work to finish.

“claire.” carmy looked surprised to see his girlfriend. it was friday, and normally she stopped by on saturdays. “i thought you worked on fridays.” he pulled her into the office and claire shrugged, “i got off early, just to come see you.”

carmy nodded, “yeah. yeah.” claire raised an eyebrow at him, “i cant leave early tho. y/n asked for the day off and i didn’t realize how much she does so-“ he cut himself off watching as claire’s expression soured slightly.

carmy sighed, “i know- but i’m her boss, im going to have to talk to her eventually.” claire rolled her eyes, “god, i-“ she cut herself off and stood up, “that’s fine, carmen. i understand, really.” her tone sounded irritated as she opened the door. carmy found himself standing to rush after her, but stopped himself.

had he really made a judgement on you based on an experience claire had with you in grade school? so far, you hadn’t mentioned claire to be someone of the past, and carmy had wondered why.

carmy blinked, suddenly getting the urge to rush after claire. but as she walked right out the front door, carmy realized that he had been too late. normally, the guilt would set right in, but as he stared out into the dining room, he could imagine you standing at the counter, eyes shying away from his.

saturday had been a rough start for you. you had spent the whole night before, sobbing at the movie theater. your eyes had puffed up so much that you had to go home, barely able to see the movie through your tears. this time of year was rough for you, especially since your family hardly called. your father had been the glue to hold all your differences together, but it seemed not to have a lasting affect.

when you had arrived late to work, yet again, you had expected carmy to give you the silent treatment, or possibly even yell, but he hadn’t said anything.

except,

“i’m sorry about your dad.” he had looked down at the floor when he said it. you stared at him, shocked that he said anything to you besides the usual, and that he knew about your father.

“how long as it been?” more. he was talking more to you, “uhh-“ you couldn’t contain yourself, “two years. but it feels like-“

“yesterday. yeah i know.” he finished your sentence. “i lost my dad too. a while ago.” he shook his head, as if shaking the feeling that came along with it.

you nodded, holding a small smile that carmy had actually made conversation with you.

“thank you. and im sorry for your loss as well.” you brushed past him, still reeling.

months passed, changing things with time, including carmen.

not only had he become a better boss, but you could consider him a friend. transitioning to kitchen staff had made that happen, including moments that made you think of him as more.

there was no doubt of the chemistry you had with him. everyone noticed it, and sydney had half the mind to encourage it.

“you work so well together! he needs something and you’re there with it! it’s actually insane, like did you guys come from the same planet?” her voice got a little high as she rambled on and you laughed, “what planet would that be, syd?”

she shrugged, “something of greatness. i mean, he’s even said it himself-“

you held up a hand, ending her little ramble right then and there, “sydney. i am not anything like the world renowned chef that runs this place. im not even a sous! i was waiting tables just a month ago.” your hand pointed out to the dining room and sydney threw her hands up, “that’s exactly my point!”

you rolled your eyes, “please stop.” you couldn’t hear her anymore, not while carmy was just minutes from rounding the corner.

“want one?” carmy had noticed you were gone. the rush was starting to slow and you had decided to take a break, not knowing he would follow. there was a cigarette hanging in his mouth glumly, a lighter being tossed between his hands.

“i don’t really smoke.” you answered earnestly. carmy brought the lighter up to his mouth, taking a moment to light it. he inhaled, and you caught yourself staring at him as he exhaled.

“you don’t really?” he sat down, closer than he probably realized. you turned to look at him, eyes hooding as they focused on his cigarette. “mhm.” you answered, leaning a cheek on your hand.

you were reaching out before you realized, fingers wrapping around the cigarette, pulling it from his mouth and into yours.

carmy watched you with surprised eyes, as you took a long, deep drag. you exhaled it, hand outstretched to return it. he took it, smiling as he chuckled.

“i’m quitting.” you admitted. looking at carmy, waiting for him to react. he didn’t, and you laughed, “did you hear me, carmen?”

carmy took another drag, pulling out the cigarette to flick it against the concrete step, “no you’re not.”

“i am- i already talked to richie and syd-“ you found yourself trying to justify your decision until he raised his voice, “no you’re not! i said no!”

you flinched, not used to having him scream directly in your face. he didn’t need to, and so he never did.

until now.

your ears were still ringing. you had been staring at carmy’s side profile for five minutes, as he stared ahead in silence.

finally, “why not?” the pure shock had kept you quiet, but you had built up emotion, and your voice couldn’t help cracking.

carmy shrugged, “just don’t. just give me time, alright.”

your frustration grew with his vague answer. he was refusing your resignation, and now he was refusing to tell you why?

carmy panted quietly. he had been in the office for more than twenty minutes, watching as he phone buzzed with call after phone call from claire.

he couldn’t pick up, not when his head was full with thoughts of you. he knew it was wrong, he knew that claire should be the only girl on his mind, but she wasn’t and he felt horrible.

he stared at the phone, swallowing thickly as he picked up the phone, opening a desk drawer and tossing it in.

ever since he had found out that you had no idea who his girlfriend was, and that her entire reasoning to dislike you had been a lie, it had strained his relationship. but claire had been close to catching onto his disillusionment, and it seemed like she reached it.

he opened the office door, breathing in deeply as he saw you in the kitchen, eyes red rimmed but still diligently at work.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy angst #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #carmy x y/n #carmy fluff #the bear angst #the bear #the bear smut #the bear fanfiction

[fooled-around-and-fell]

squared away.

summary: carmen gets to see the present you and finally finds the courage to talk to you again.

pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings: cursing.

a/n: this is a sequel to square one, i suggest reading it first so some things would make more sense.

Masterlist

-----

previously...

"no, wait." carmen chases after you. "i just... fuck, i'm not good with words, okay? i don't know how to say it."

"yeah? maybe leave for another 7 years and see if you can figure that out."

carmen stays silent and that angers you even more. you smile bitterly, "you know what, let me make it easier for you this time."

"goodbye, carmen."

-----

of course, it's not actually goodbye.

you were trying to make a point and it just slipped out of your mouth because you were angry at carmen. you still are. but it's been a few days since that encounter, and you wonder if you were too harsh.

no. he left without saying goodbye, that was an ass move, and he still hasn't apologized for it. so you did the right thing. right? right?

sighing, you check your phone. a text message just came from a new number, sending a picture. your eyebrows raise. you're not really sure who'd send you a picture of pasta, but the next sentence tells you who it is.

'what's for lunch?'

fucking carmen.

he used to force you to send him pictures of your meals because you'd accidentally miss a few, and now he's sending you his.

of course you don't reply. why would you? after your last conversation, it's pretty clear that you're not buddies. you close the chat and go back to work.

carmen sees the little sign that indicates you've read the message and smiles. you didn't send anything back, but that's expected. at least you opened the message.

he knew it was a bad idea when he left for new york without telling you anything, but he couldn't bring himself to. with everything that was going on with mikey, he just.. he had to get away fast. start anew.

he thought about texting you every day, letting you know how sorry he is and how he's doing in new york... but the long paragraphs end up being deleted, and he hates himself more because of it.

why can't he be good with words? why can't he just say what he's been dying to tell you for the past 7 years? that he misses you? that he wants you around? that he wants nothing but to hug you and hold you close because you're his home?

that's what you are to him. a sense of home that's none of the craziness he faces every day, a sense of peace because god knows he fucking needs that in his life... but carmen's hobby is self-sabotage. he doesn't think he deserves it. and honestly, looking at how sad, disappointed you were the other day, does he really deserve a second chance?

...maybe he shouldn't have sent that text message after all.

sighing, he locks his phone and gets back to work.

hours later as carmen's closing up, he sees that there's still some leftover tiramisu that marcus made earlier today. you love tiramisu- or, well, 7 years ago, you loved tiramisu. he wonders if you still do.

he takes a few pictures of the dessert, chooses the best looking one and sends it to you.

'you still love tiramisu?'

you scoff. is he trying to show off or something?

yes, you still love tiramisu. and the picture he sent looks amazing. the first time you had the dessert was actually with carmen. it was his first time making it, and though you were nervous you gladly volunteered to taste it.

safe to say it was heavenly. carmen's always had culinary talents, and you're happy that he got to dive deep into that industry. you just wish you could've been part of it... however small.

...is that selfish?

but carmen's talking to you again. you're still too upset to text him back, but that means something, right? can it mean a second chance?

your heart is beating a bit faster when you read his message again and you curse yourself. you leave a small heart on his tiramisu picture and lock your phone.

stupid carmen.

-----

"why is he smiling?"

syd asks sugar, who sees carmen chopping some veg with a smile on his face. it's weird.

carmen's not usually one to smile, but that little heart you left him last night made a bigger impact than he thought it would. he actually didn't expect you to react in any way at all, so it was a nice little surprise.

"hey chef," carmen greets marcus when he steps into the kitchen, "amazing tiramisu yesterday. any chance you can make an extra batch today?"

"sure." marcus answers. "planning to indulge in it yourself, chef?"

syd and sugar motions marcus to cut it out, curtly dragging their fingers across their throats, worried that carmen might take offense or wake up from his... happy state.

"no, it's-it's for a friend." he smiles, and marcus swears he can see angels flying above his head.

"chef, are you okay?"

carmen's eyebrow raises. "yeah, why?"

"nothing, just.. uh... yeah I'll get that tiramisu ready for you by the end of the day."

"thanks chef."

the service today is tough. for some reason it's extra crowded, and everyone's just getting in each other's nerves. carmen didn't even get the chance to eat lunch - or dinner, fuck it's 8pm already. closing time.

carmen says he's going to close tonight, so he does. the tiramisu is sitting in the fridge as marcus promised, and carmen wonders if he'll be able to deliver it to you tonight. it's late, he doesn't know where you live... fuck. he checks his phone and finds no text from you. expected, of course, but the delusional side of carmen was hoping you'd send him something-

ha. why would you send him anything? you made it very clear the other night that you still hate him... but you also liked his tiramisu picture... carmen sighs and continues scrubbing the counter.

he mutters to himself, "fucking stupid-"

he suddenly hears someone clear their throat behind him and finds you standing by the kitchen door. "hey."

"o-oh hey." is he dreaming?

"sorry we're.. closed- but i could whip up something real quick for you if you want- or, i actually have a-"

"i ran into sugar on the way home." you cut his sentence. "she said you haven't eaten anything all day and so i went- i mean, she told me to give you this." you hand him a takeout box from a nearby restaurant. it wasn't sugar that got him the food -- you did. you ran into sugar, but she just told you carmen was alone in the restaurant and figured you two needed that push.

carmen takes the box from your hands. "t-thanks."

you nod and slowly step back. "okay, i'm gonna go now."

"wait, wait!" carmen races to the fridge to get the tiramisu and packs it up for you. "i had marcus make extra today. saved it for you."

a small smile forms across your lips and you take the box. "thanks."

he nods and you turn to go home. but carmen stops you this time. "you're about to go home? walking?"

"yeah," you turn to look at him again. "it's just around the corner."

he sets the rag he's holding aside and washes his hands. "i'll walk you." he leads you out of the kitchen and out of the restaurant.

"you don't have to do that." you say, "it's really near."

he shoots your a look, "look, you can hate me all you want, but i'm not letting you walk home alone."

you stay quiet and turn to walk home, letting him walk next to you in silence. you clutch the box with tiramisu in it and take a glance at carmen, wondering what he's thinking about. does he really think you hate him?

"i don't hate you, carm."

carmen raises his brow.

"maybe a little. i don't know." you sigh. "i want to hate you for leaving, for not telling me, for disappearing. and every time i see you, it's always a mix of feelings. i miss you so much but i'm so mad at you for leaving, but you're back, but you hurt me- you get the idea."

he takes in what you said. "i know. and i'm sorry. i shouldn't have just left like that without saying anything.. i just.. i had to get away fast, and at the time it was easier to leave just like that. i thought it wouldn't haunt me, but it does. you don't deserve to be treated like that."

you offer him a small smile and stop in front of your apartment building. "thanks carm. and sorry for saying all that stuff to you the other day."

"i deserved it." he shrugs. "anyway, thanks for the food."

you chuckle.

"yeah, i know it's not from sugar." he smiles. "only you'd get me chinese takeout. sugar hates that place."

"i forgot about that." you smile back. "it's getting late. i should head up. thanks for walking me home."

he nods. "any time. goodnight."

"goodnight, carmen."

carmen's heart is trying its best not to jump out of his chest, and he forces himself to walk away once you've closed the door. he tries to hide his smile, but can't help the happiness bubbling up inside of him.

"hey carm!" he hears you call out to him again from the second floor window.

"wanna come up?"

----

long overdue part 2 😬

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmen berzatto angst #carmen angst #carmy angst #the bear angst #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto x f! reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

My request could also work with carmy and Michael too btw 👀🤭 whatever tickles your muse

There Goes That Dream.

carmy berzatto x female reader, michael berzatto x female reader

warnings - pure angst. sorry about this. happy valentines day!

masterlist. inbox. valentines masterlist.

“What’s on your mind, Bear?”

Michael has been watching his little brother carefully for the last thirty minutes. Carmy’s deep in thought, lip bitten between his teeth, eyes unfocused and dissociated.

“Nothin.”

“Right.”

Michael doesn’t say anything else, just allows Carmy to sit in the silence for a minute. He knows he’ll have to fill it eventually.

“Just thinking about Valentine’s.”

“Uh oh,” Mikey laughs, shoving his brother’s shoulder. “You having big feelings, bud?”

“Shut up,” Carmy grumbles, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “I’m thinking about asking someone out, but I’ve left it too late. It’s literally tomorrow.”

“Dude. That means it isn’t too late. You’ve still got loads of time.”

Carmy looks over to where you’re laughing with Natalie, both of you giggling over something she’s showing you on her phone. It’s always been like this, for as long as he can remember. You slotted right into the Berzatto family as if it was your last name too.

Carmen fell in love with you that day. He’s loved you every day since.

It’s been ten years, give or take. He’s learned to live with the fact that he loves you, the way people adjust to new climates, or life altering injuries. He knows he has no choice but to carry on.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you’re both single. Unattached to anyone, ready for a new connection. And if that isn’t a sign from the universe, Carmy doesn’t know what is. He’s sick of waiting, sick of pretending like he wouldn’t take a bullet for you at any given moment. He figures it’s now or never. He’s waited long enough.

“Carmen,” Michael says firmly, shaking him back to reality. “Whoever it is - she’s a lucky girl. The worst thing that can happen is that she says no. You’ll be okay.”

Carmy nods, knowing that his brother doesn’t understand, not really - but he’s trying to. You’re not just some girl. You’re the girl.

“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna do it. Later tonight, I think.”

“Good man.”

Mikey leaves him alone, smacking him on the back as he goes. Carmy’s buzzing with anticipation, ready to finally commit to the one thing he’s thought about doing every single day for the better part of a decade.

He stands in the kitchen for a while, trying to concoct the perfect plan. Eventually, he figures that it is literally now or never… and he has to choose now. He makes his way out to the living room and over to Natalie.

“Sugar, have you seen-”

“She’s outside. Out front.”

She already knows who he’s looking for. Because he’s only ever looking for you.

Carmy swings open the front door, ready to yell your name, when he sees you.

You’re sat on the curb, with Mikey next to you. You look like you’re deep in conversation, your eyes never leaving the older man’s face. Carmy figures you’ll be done soon, so he waits on the front step for you.

You laugh, and Mikey gets closer to you, so your thighs are pressed together on the cold sidewalk. Your eyes are still on his, and there’s this look that Carmy can’t quite place. He’s never seen it before, but it’s intense - focused, grounded, warm. There’s a feeling in the pit of his stomach, suddenly. He doesn’t like it.

Michael cups your face in his hands, and Carmy knows exactly what’s about to happen. He can’t look away, no matter how badly he wants to.

You meet him halfway, leaning in to kiss him with a passion that can only be created by time. Yearning, pining, waiting - that’s what this kiss is. It’s an amalgamation of patience.

You separate, lungs heaving, beaming grin on both of your faces.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that for so long,” Carmy hears you say. “Years, Mikey.”

You’re both laughing, blissfully unaware of Carmen’s heart shattering into a thousand pieces mere feet away.

Michael was wrong, earlier. The worst thing that could happen is this.

#be murphy’s valentine #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto angst #Carmen berzatto x reader angst #mikey berzatto x reader fluff #mikey berzatto fluff #mikey berzatto imagine #mikey berzatto x reader #the bear x you #the bear fluff #the bear angst #the bear x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fluff

[aestheticaltcow]

Our Future

A/N: I've been workin' on this one for a couple weeks now and I finally finished omg

“I just don’t know if I want her to meet Eva.” Tiffany sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood in the doorway, “Tiff, do you wanna meet her first or somethin’?” Richie asked, scratching the back of his head. “Richie, I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, but she’s like, what 23?” Richie sighed awkwardly. “Yea…” Tiffany shot him a look, “Look, Tiff, she’s really great-. I want Eva to meet her.” he looked down at her hopefully, Tiffany sighed. He’d been okay with Eva meeting her current boyfriend, so it would be hypocritical for her not to let Eva meet Richie’s girlfriend- you. Tiffany nodded. “Just promise you aren’t breakin’ up with her anytime soon. I don’t want Eva to also get her heart broken.”  

~

Over the summer, you worked as a waitress at The Bear. You thought Richie was handsome from the start. He was tall and rugged, and you couldn’t help but watch his hands as he did paperwork or signed for the liquor order. His hands were so big… you couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel on your body. Manhandling your breasts, wrapped around your neck, pulling you over his knee to spank you… you dragged yourself out of a daydream when Carmy asked the wait staff a question. “I’m sorry my mind was elsewhere… what was the question?”

It went on like that for weeks, Richie being the focal point of your daydreams. Your friends slowly started noticing how you’d turn down guys when you’d go out. Your parents noticed you were taking your time to do your hair and makeup before work. They’d assumed you had a crush on another waitstaff member or, heaven forbid, a line cook; oh boy, did they not expect the man you’d been dolling yourself up for someone 20 years your senior. 

One night, you agreed to go out with some friends from high school. You weren’t looking for a hookup or anything, but when you saw Richie across the street from the club at some pizza place, you were glad you’d borrowed a short cheetah print dress from your friend Mandy. You snuck away from the rest of the group and ‘causually’ bumped into Richie. He’d always thought you were pretty and quick as a whip, but he was significantly older than you, and the idea of even hitting on you made him uneasy. But, when he bumped into you on that night out, he couldn’t get the idea of you out of his mind. “Yo, cousin. You good?” “Ugh yea… was just sayin' hey to y/n.” Carmy chuckled when he saw you walking away from Richie, “She’s into you.” Richie adamantly disagreed, “She’s a good kid, but I’m way too fuckin’ old for her Carm.” 

As the summer came to an end, you’d turned in your two-week notice. Leaving  Richie with a sense of urgency to at least follow you on Instagram. By your last day, he did manage to get your phone number, which, in turn, led to some late-night Instagram stalking from both of you. Richie didn’t expect anything to happen. You were three hours away from Chicago, back at school, surrounded by boys your age. There's no way a girl like you would ever want some 40-year-old divorced single Dad. At least, that was until you’d come home for your Mom’s birthday in mid-September. 

You needed a break from your family. You saw Richie was out with some of the guys from The Bear and decided to make a move. ‘Casually running into’ the group was more challenging than you thought, but when Sweeps noticed you enter the bar, he knew why you were there. “Richie, your girls here.” he laughed; Richie was confused but was happy to see you. You two spent the night talking, “So you got a little boyfriend at school or somethin’?” Richie had hoped the answer would be ‘no,’ and then he could swoop in and show you how a man should treat a woman of your caliber. “Depends on who’s askin’.” you teased, making Richie chuckle. He offered you a ride home.

As Richie pulled up to your parent’s apartment building, you said fuck it and swiftly moved to place a kiss against his lips, the tickle of his facial hair adding to the stimulation. Richie was taken aback; he’d wanted to kiss her for months but didn’t think it would be like this. He kissed you back as soon as he’d realized what was happening. What should have been the perfect first kiss was ruined when your Dad saw you get out of ‘some random old guy's car’ and told you to get your ass inside. 

Your parents scolded you, “Wasn’t he your boss!” “Y/N! We forbid this!”. You were mad at the pair and returned to school sooner than expected. You turned your phone off and stared at the ceiling for a few days; maybe they had a point. Was Richie too old for you? He disagreed; if two people like each other, what’s the big deal? It’s not like she was fresh out of high school- she was 22, and he’d just turned 42. 

A year later, you graduated college and moved back to Chicago to be with Richie and work at a tech start-up. It took a while, but your parents had warmed up to Richie. Granted, your Mom still hated him, but you took a win as a win when your Dad referred to him as an ‘okay guy.’ 

~

Tiffany was hesitant when Richie brought you around Eva at first. She liked you, but she knew Richie better than anyone and didn’t want you to get your heart broken. She didn’t bring anything up until Eva’s birthday party. You were watching the kids play in the backyard when Tiffany saw an opportunity to talk to you. “Hey, Y/N, thanks for comin’.” you smiled up at Tiffany as she sat beside you. “Of course, I couldn’t miss Eva’s Taylor Swift party.” Tiffany nodded before asking, “Can I talk to you about somethin’?” you nodded, “What’s up?” “Might be a little awkward, but um, you and Richie? How’s it goin’?”

You squinted in Tiffany’s direction, “Why do you wanna know?” “I don’t want him back, but you’re just in such a different-” you scoffed. “Tiffany, I don’t think your daughter’s birthday party is an appropriate place to bring this-” “Y/N. I know Richie better than anyone. You have so much life to live. Don’t you wanna travel or get married or have kids someday? I just want you to know what you’re getting yourself into before you’re too invested in this.” “Thanks, Tiffany.” 

Richie was talking to one of Eva’s friend’s Dads when he saw you walking toward the gate, “Sorry, I gotta check on somethin’...” he ducked out of the conversation to follow you out of the backyard. You wiped your eyes as you walked up the street. It was only a couple miles to the closest train stop, and you figured the walk would be a good way to clear your head. “Hey baby- you okay?” Richie called as he ran up behind you. You nodded, “Yeah, everything is fine… I just have to do some stuff…” “What about Eva’s party? Haven’t even had cake yet…” he noticed you’d been crying, “Did Tiff say somethin’ to you? I can-” “Richie- do you wanna get married again?” the question left him dumbfounded. “Maybe?” he shrugged, “Why are you askin about that?” 

You sighed, “Richie, I wanna get married and have kids someday.” you flexed your hand as you stared at the ground, “Okay, we can… we can talk about it later… come back to the party?” Richie said, trying to change the subject and cut the tension between you. “ Yes or no, Richie? Would you want to marry me and have a kid or two within the next three years?” “Baby,” Richie said softly as he touched your bicep, “Let’s talk about all of this later.” you shook your head. “Go back to the party. I have some thinking to do.” you calmly said as you looked up at him. “OK,” Richie nodded and kissed your forehead, “I’ll see you at home?” 

You haphazardly packed some clothes into a suitcase before grabbing your chargers and laptop from the bedside table. This wasn’t how you thought your day would end, but Richie’s answer- or lack thereof- was all you needed to know. Before leaving the apartment, you messily wrote Richie a note saying it was over and your Dad would come by to pick up the rest of your stuff later in the week. You felt your heart break as you locked the door behind you. It was over.

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich fan fic #richie jerimovich fan fiction #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich angst #the bear #the bear x reader #the bear fan fic #the bear fan fiction #the bear imagine #the bear angst

[l4long-winded]

o.s. the plan mikey never got to

summary: you come across a picture of one of mikey's family members. he has to be careful not to think too much about carmen (implied carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: i had this idea in my head for a while now. like, imagine mikey wanting you and carmen to get together after he gets to know you? do you know how heartbreaking that would be? anyhow, i am taking requests if anyone is interested. please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: angst, depression, overthinking, avoidance, commentary on mental health, implied carmy x reader, carmen is not in this, this is probably set before the fishes episode in season 2, cursing, somewhat sad ending (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 1,190

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

“Who’s this?” You ask, raising the picture frame in your hand up for Mikey to see. He squints where he stands, his hands currently preoccupied with rubbing seasoning onto the rack of ribs in front of him. He recognizes the photo from the frame alone, dipping his head down to turn his attention to the meat instead of lingering his gaze for too long across the image.

“My brother Carmen,” he says, his tone short. It’s easier to attempt cutting that thread before it starts. He doesn’t blame you for your curiosity since you’re new to the Beef and therefore new to his family, but he’s not in the mood to discuss his brother at the moment. Truthfully, his mood’s allowed few discussions about anything of value for a long time, but he can’t dwell on it. He has over ten mouths to feed, the barbecue he’s hosting being his main priority.

As he washes his hands free of the paste constructed of seasonings and the sticky binder he used, he hears you speak again.

“He’s kinda cute,” you remark.

Mikey haphazardly dries his hands on his shirt, the sentence pulling a chuckle from the back of his throat. He looks at you properly, catching sight of how you’re still closely examining the picture. Before he can think about his strained sibling relationship, he notices how a light smile forms on your lips. You’re a hard worker and you learn relatively fast. He didn’t invite you here because he didn’t think you weren’t capable or competent. On the contrary, Mikey’s observed the twitch in your hands as you cut vegetables, how you slowly nod when he explains a recipe, and how you stay even after closing to take advantage of the available equipment under the guise of making conversation. Mikey knows the potential that seeps off you because he’s seen it before, he just didn’t know what point of reference he had in mind.

That is until he sees you nursing a picture of his brother. That’s right. That’s what it is. You remind him of Carmy. All earnestness in the kitchen, quiet but witty, and hankering on some underlying compassion that neither of you express in words, but through whatever it is you’re putting together in a culinary environment. You’re missing the temper, but Mikey isn’t the kind of guy to try and draw that out of you. The Bear will take care of reminding Mikey of it when he eventually comes home again.

“Think so? I have to warn you, he can be an asshole,” Mikey discards the ribs in favor of sauntering to where you are, grasping the photo out of your hands. He swallows thickly as he creates eye contact with picture-Carmy, the memory of the day coming back to him like a bad show tune.

“That’s what all siblings say. Tell me about him? I only knew you had a sister,” you encourage, leaning your lower back into the sofa behind you. Mikey sighs, scratching the back of his head and then the beard growing on his face. The point of shaving’s become lost to him.

“Uh, yeah,” he turns the frame back and forth in one hand, “we took this after we went to the Pier. He was being… he was being Carmy. Didn’t want the hassle of posing and holding still, had to talk him into it. Ma wanted a recent picture since his stubborn ass usually avoids them,” Mikey explains with a shrug of his broad shoulders. He places the picture frame back where you found it, taking a spot next to you after that. He mimics how you’re crossing your arms to your chest, the silence you fall into being a signal for him to continue talking.

“Carmen’s smart. Kid’s talented in a lot of ways. I’ve always known that, and now, he’s proving it to every fancy shmancy chef out there. He’s becoming what some people can only dream of,” Mikey says thoughtfully.

“Where is he?” You question. Mikey looks at the floor. Carmen’s been gone for a long time. Too long. But it’s better this way. Mikey believes it to be.

“Copenhagen. Think he likes it there more than he likes it here,” Mikey jokes, shaking his head back and forth. You don’t laugh, much to his dismay. He sees you staring at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Isn’t it, though? Carmen hasn’t been home in ages, and honestly, Mikey doesn’t think it’s a bad thing. It’s a really good thing, actually. Chicago isn’t the place someone goes to fulfill all their dreams and all their inherent capabilities. Copenhagen, wherever the fuck that is and however the fuck it looks, is a much more savory option, especially in comparison to Chicago. No, Carmen shouldn’t be jumping at the opportunity to return. He’s exactly where Mikey wants him to be.

“Nah, he… he belongs there…”

Tension collects in the air as both you and Mikey go quiet. He’s aware his words didn’t leave room for you to reply with something, but then again, Mikey doesn’t think he wants you to. This has gone on longer than he’s comfortable with and while he thinks you’re sweet, he doesn’t have the energy to go into more details about Carmen and where he is and why Mikey has to battle the conflict of wanting his brother to succeed, even if that means without him. It was always supposed to be without him. He doesn’t have the time and his skin is beginning to itch with the need to buckle out of his head and back to the present where he’s supposed to be cooking ribs for his barbecue. That’s what this is, Mikey has to live where he is and push Carmen to a far space in his mind.

“Come on, let’s head out, party’s outside, not in here,” Mikey chirps up, his usual swagger and booming voice adopted with ease. He walks away from your side at the couch and grabs at the two ends of the rack. Thankfully, you don’t pry or press about the subject change, opening the door for him so he can step through and head to the grill.

Richie catches you once you’re both outside. The birds tweet, the wind flows through your blouse, and you’re a natural at navigating the shit-talking storm that Richie’s subjected you to. You fit right in. Mikey makes a mental note to introduce you to Carmen once he comes back home. You two would be a good fit. You’re pretty, intelligent, and you seem to think his brother is attractive enough to stare at his picture for longer than two minutes. That’s enough reason. It’s not because you could possibly keep Carmen around. No… it’s not because he needs Carmen to be happy outside of the Beef. It’s not Mikey’s overbearing need to take care of everyone before himself. It’s not because he needs someone to look after Carmen and ensure he doesn’t end up like Mikey. It’s not. It’s not.

It is.

But Mikey never gets to introduce you two. Richie does.

#l4l.writes #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #michael berzatto #mikey berzatto #richie jerimovich #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear angst #the plan mikey never got to #l4l.oneshot

[noirshitsuji]

yes, mental illness makes you tunnel vision and self-centre to the point of losing touch and doing damage to those around you. no, it's not your fault, insofar as fucked-up brain chemistry and other people's actions and trauma isn't anyone's fault. yes, it's your responsibility to keep yourself in check, and you're lucky to have people who call you out when you're not. no, it's not fair.

yes, love will save you in the end, even if it's not the love you think it will be, even if it's not the type of love you want it to be. no, you cannot run away from this love any more than you can run from the grief that naturally follows any type of love, any more than you can run away from what got you here in the first place. no, you don't need other people's forgiveness, what you need is your own forgiveness, your own permission to do better.

yes, it will work. you just have to let it.

#the bear #hi i finished s2 last night and i need to. Emote #carmen berzatto #my posts #my writing #i guess this is that as well #the bear angst #tw swearing #tw mental illness #the bear season 2

[queers-gambit]

God's Plan

prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 3.3k+

note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.

warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.

part two: Two to Tango

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"

You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."

"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"

You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"

"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.

So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.

You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.

Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.

However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.

You were beat.

You were overwhelmed.

You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.

You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:

what time do you think you'll be off?

He replied when you got to your car:

maybe around 8?

You sniffled, nodding, answering:

okay, see you when you get home.

As you exited the parking lot, he replied:

what? you're off?

And you answered:

yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?

When you made three turns, he sent back:

i'll try, peach 💙

When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.

You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,

hey, are you gonna be much later?

You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,

i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home

You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.

Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.

"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"

"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.

He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."

"But I haven't seen you."

"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"

"No, Carmen, go to sleep."

"You sound mad."

"I'm not."

"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.

"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."

He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"

"No, Carmen, Jesus - "

"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.

You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"

"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"

"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"

"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."

Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."

He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."

You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.

"And you can be a dramatic bitch."

"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.

Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."

"What?" You muttered.

"You're late for work."

"Called in."

He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."

You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.

He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.

After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.

When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.

You still hadn't woken up when he got back.

So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.

You were awake around 4 am.

The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.

Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.

You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.

You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.

Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.

All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.

Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.

"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"

"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."

You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.

Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.

You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!

Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?

All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.

Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.

You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.

You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"

"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"

"No?"

"Where are you, then?"

"I'm home."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"

He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.

"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"

"Oh, well... Why're you there?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."

"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.

"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."

"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"

"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."

"I thought we could get back into it tonight."

You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."

He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"

"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."

"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"

"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."

"But tomorrow's... Friday?"

"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"Why would I?"

"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"

"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"

"Baby - "

"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.

"What?"

"We need space from this relationship."

"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "

"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."

"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet, no."

"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "

"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."

"I didn't mean that - "

"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."

He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.

When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.

[ part two: ] Two to Tango

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

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

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke���s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

#reader is the mara of she ra the mikey berzatto of the bear the nellie crain of hill house DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes

[writers-hes]

Request: carmy/reader, jealousy

“you’re so mean to me.” (c. berzatto x reader)

You friend sees you at the Beef while you were helping out at the counter. Carmy feels insecure. (mean!carmy, angst to fluff, just :(, sydney is such a sweetheart, protect carmen at all cost, not sure if there are spoilers, unedited.) - ACCEPTING REQUESTS!

He comes to the Beef with authority and an air of confidence. Richie noticed that he had a designer shirt on, the monogram of some brand littered on it. The shoes on his feet could cover some expenses at the Beef. You were helping out at the counter that day. Carmy has been telling you how stressful the Beef had been since day one and you decided that on your days off, you’d go down to the shop and help. Carmy wished you didn’t come that day…not if he was there.

The first time you came, Carmy was bewildered. He was a blushing, babbling mess when his girlfriend came to help. “Ayo, Jeff, stop staring and give the girl a job!” Tina teased, making Carmy’s ears turn red. 

“Alright, Chef,” he said, looking at you, finally breaking out of his trance. “Come to the office and I’ll…orient you,” he takes your hand and brings you to the back office before you could say hi to his coworkers. “Syd, cover for me!”

“Yes, chef!” 

He locked the door behind him and kissed your head. 

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice was soft, dripping with vanilla and honey.

“It’s my day-off and you’ve been telling me how much you needed another person at the counter and I decided to come down and help out. I’m sure Richie could help me,” you said. “But if you think that I might disrupt the system, I can leave and stay in the area! We can go on a date after your shift,” 

Carmy could just melt. How were you so considerate and beautiful and kind to him? He was so sure that he didn’t deserve you. He was almost certain that you were too good for him. Too good for everyone.

“I promise, I won’t mind whatever you choose, Carm.” you said, smiling softly at him. You could see the gears in his head turning. 

“No, no. I want you here,” said. “I want you here.”

“Okay. I’ll stay,” he hears, and you kiss him softly. “I’ll go to Richie and ask him to teach me the basics, okay?”

“Alright,” he said, pecking your lips “Just come to the office if you’re not feeling it, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, leaving the space and leaving a lovesick Carmy in the office. 

“Hey, guys! Sorry if I’m here on short notice. I’ll just keep out of your way and help Richie out, okay?” you asked. The kitchen hums and releases a series of “sure”, “okay”, and “thank you’s.”

“Chefs! I’ll take care of family today,” Carmy said a few moments later. He was watching you joke around with Richie. He was teaching you the basics and teaching you how to take orders. 

The first time you helped out, Carmy was tense. He didn’t want anything to happen to you. Nothing to touch you but soon, once you were well-integrated in their system, the kitchen found themselves looking forward to every Wednesday when Carmy was calmer, less annoying, and less rude. It’s like you take out every bad thing in him. 

-

Not today though. Not when Richie saw your eyes widen in recognition, an instantaneous sweet smile plastered on your face.

“Ayo, cousin!” he calls, while you almost literally jumped over the counter to talk to this guy. 

“Lawrence!” you greeted, taking him in a hug. “How are you? Richie, this is my childhood friend, Lawrence. Lawrence, this is Richie,”

Richie could only give a grimace and a half-assed wave. Where the fuck was Carmy?

“Wait for a bit,” you asked. “Sit down, okay? Your sandwich is on the house.” You looked at Richie to ask if he could cover for a few minutes and he nodded. He shouts at the order in the kitchen.

“Who’s that asshole?” he asked, getting a glass of pop. 

“My childhood friend,” you said. “We grew up in the same street together,”

“What does he do?”

“Finance…I think? It’s been a while since we last talked. I think last year?” you wondered. “I didn’t even know that he was still in Chicago because we saw each other in New York,”

“Carmy knows him?” 

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t talk about him alot. I think Carmy only knows him as a childhood friend,” you said. “They’ve never met each other.”

Richie gives you the drink and the sandwich that Tina prepared. You uttered a thanks before walking to whereLawrence sat. 

“I didn’t know you worked here,” he said, taking the sandwich from the tray. 

“I didn’t know you still lived here,” you said. “The last time that I saw you was in New York. I thought you were a big finance guy?”

“Ah, I quit,” he shrugged. “Decided to start my own start-up here in Chicago. I had enough savings and well, you know,”

“Of course,” you nod. “I don’t work here. I just help out once a week because everything’s been so busy,”

“Hm,” he hums. “My employees have been raving about the sandwiches here since the new management took over. Decided to try it out and sure enough, you were there.”

“Fuck! Where the fuck were you?” Richie asked Carmy when he finally came through the back door. Some rich asshole has been wooing your girl in the seating area. Says he’s her childhood friend or some shit,”

“Who?” Carmen asked, removing his jacket. 

“Your girlfriend took a break to talk to a customer, Jeff.” Tina said. Carmy frowned, walking briskly to you. The staff huddled, intrigued at how this could unfold. Carmy has never felt jealousy before. He’s never had to deal with girlfriends and their guy friends that definitely look at you too long. He’d never have to deal with Lawrence who was so obviously flirting with you. He’d never have to deal with you accepting it. The jealousy consumes him.

“Carmy! Come here,” you said when you finally noticed him. He’s been standing there for minutes while you listened to this guy drone on about how bored he was with his money. How you were probably meant to see each other again. 

“Hey,” Carmy greets the guy in front of you. A chair scrapes loudly on the floor, reverberating in the whole restaurant. He sits down. 

“Carmy’s the owner of this place,” you told Lawrence. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“He is?” Lawrence asked and Carmy could feel him sizing him up in his dirty white t-shirt. “I’m Lawrence. We grew up together,”

“Oh,” Carmy said. “Uh, babe, can I talk to you for a minute in the office?”

“Sure,” you said. “I have to go,” you told Lawrence, who stood up as well. His sandwich was half-eaten and it annoyed Carmy. Had he no respect to at least finish the food in front of the chef who made it? Asshole. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m leaving too,” Lawrence said. “I have a meeting around here. I’ll see you?” he asked. 

“Of course,” You removed your hand from Carmen to hug Lawrence and it fucking hurt. Lawrence kisses the side of your head before sparing a glance to Carmy. What an asshole. 

“What was it, Carm?” you asked, smiling. You were almost forgiven because of how sweet you looked but Carmy have always felt things too intensely. He couldn’t stop what came from his mouth and it was too late. Too fucking late and the damage has been done.

“Go home,” he said, coldly. Your face fell and Carmen wanted to take it back. He felt you recoil yourself away from him, as if he’s hurt you. As if he burned you.

“Bear?” you asked softly.

“Go home,” he repeated. You frowned, grief-stricken but you nodded. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll…I’ll just get my stuff from the locker,”

Carmy looks away from you and you clear your throat. Walking away from him, you saw the staff pretend like they weren’t listening.

“Hey, guys. I’m going…going home,” you said, trying to stabilize your wavering voice. Tears were threatening to spill but you blink them away. “I don’t feel well, and I realized I have this…thing to attend to.” you lied.

“Of course, sweets,” Tina says. “Get home safely, okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah. I’ll let you know once I’m home.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sydney says, glaring at Carmen. 

“No, it’s— “

“It’s just a few blocks away. I’ll take you.” she says, and you nodded, walking to the locker room with her. 

“Sorry for being such a bother,” you said while you waited for her to change into her outside shoes. 

“You’re not,” she reassured. “Let’s go?”

-

“I didn’t know what I did wrong,” you said, walking away from The Beef. “I was just so excited to see my friend. We grew up together, you know? In the same street. Went to the same school and we haven’t seen each other in a year. I didn’t know what I did for Carmy to be so mean.”

“It’s okay,” Syd says, not wanting to get in the middle. “Just explain things to him, okay? You’re the only person he listens to.”

“I guess,” you nodded, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I just…he’s never been that way to me before. It feels new and I don’t like it,”

Syd, who’s been on the receiving end of Carmy Berzatto’s anger, wanted to protect you from him but it wasn’t her place. She wanted so badly to tell you to let him cool off.

The remaining walk back to your apartment was quiet. You both didn’t know what to say, where to start. 

“Do you want to come in?” you asked Sydney. “Refresh a bit?”

“No, I’m fine. I might be needed at the restaurant,” Syd says. You nod, going in for a goodbye hug with your friend. “I’ll see you?”

“Yeah. Thanks for walking me home. Stay safe, okay?”

-

The kitchen hated Carmy that day. He was ruder, more annoying, more…insufferable. Tina said that he handled the situation wrong, Eibrahim and the others, except for Richie agreed. So, when Sydney comes back, the first thing she say was, “What the fuck, Carmen?”

“Stay out of it, Sydney,” Richie warns but Sydney did not give a fuck. Seeing her friend so defeated, so sad stirred something in her. Maybe she was biased because she actually liked you

“She was crying all the way from here,” she said. Carmy felt like he was going to throw up. “Grow up, Carmy. Just because you can’t handle that she has other friends, doesn’t mean you have to take it out on her.”

“Fuck off, Sydney.”

Sydney stands, taken aback. She was just trying to help.

“Fine,” she says, blinking. “But if you come to an empty home, don’t take it out on us.”

-

Sydney’s warning rang in his ears as he drove home. He was anxious but his anger superseded every emotion that he was feeling. That was why, when he opened the door, he immediately looked for you. 

“Who was that?” he demanded. Anxiety and anger had such a bad mix and he knew it. He couldn’t stop. That friend of yours made him feel so insecure. 

“Carmen,” you sighed. “He’s my friend. Lawrence. I told you about him before,”

“Carmen?” he chuckled. He’s just Carmen now? “I don’t like him.”

“Why?” you asked, exasperated. “He’s nice. I was actually so excited for the two of you to meet until you ruined it. He’s my friend that I haven’t seen in over a year, Carmy. Wasn’t it a natural reaction to be excited?”

“What? You’re telling me that I ruined your little date in my restaurant?” he asked, voice raising. “That’s nice. Sorry for bothering you,”

“We weren’t even doing anything wrong!” you said, walking away. You didn’t want this—you just wanted to talk about things without screaming. 

“Hey! Get back here, I’m talking to you!”

“Talk about what, Carmen?” you asked. “You’re not listening to me. Okay? What is there to talk about?”

“You let him all over you like that! Took a break just to spend time with him,” he sneered. “And-and he looked at you like you were his. You let him kiss you. You let him do things to you and you just fucking accepted it.”

“What?” you asked. “Lawrence and I grew up like that There’s nothing wrong with it,” you tried. You were probably being too defensive, not letting Carmy explain his side but you were hurt when he dismissed you just like that. When he let you go without a kiss. He just looked away when you were pleading with him. 

“So, you’d rather defend your old fucking friend instead of trying to fix this bullshit,” Carmen spits. “Heard,”

“What?” your heart dropped. “Bullshit?” The first tear falls like it was rehearsed. It broke your heart to hear Carmy call you relationship bullshit when you’ve spent the best days of your life with him. When you helped him through the nightmares…when he took care of you. “Bullshit, huh, Carmen?”

You couldn’t form a string of coherent sentences. Your mouth was agape, trying to process what he just said. Fix this bullshit. Fix this bullshit. You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from crying. 

Bullshit. It was when you stayed up late to make sure that he slept peacefully, threading your fingers in his golden hair so he could feel your presence. Bullshit. It was when you picked him up from some bar downtown because he decided to drink with Richie. Bullshit. It was when you sacrificed your days-off just so you could spend more time together. Bullshit. It was when he showed up on your first date with flowers that you pressed in between the pages of your favorite book. Bullshit. It was when Carmen told you that he loved you because you made him a burnt grilled cheese sandwich. Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit. It was ringing in your ear, breaking your heart in a million pieces. 

“Fuck, baby,” Carmen takes it back when you moved to walk towards the door. “I’m sorry— “

“Is that all it was to you?” you asked. “Bullshit? Is that why you dismissed me so coldly earlier? Because it’s bullshit?” Tears are on your face now and you wipe them away. “It’s bullshit, huh?”

“Baby…”

“Don’t,” you said. “Fuck, you’re so…so mean,” you said, crouching on the floor to shield yourself away from him. “I…I don’t know what I did wrong,” you whispered. “And I’m sorry if my actions hurt you but that’s how I grew up with Lawrence. I didn’t know that I was hurting you but, fuck,” you sobbed. “You’re so mean to me, Bear.” You didn’t mean it as an endearment, and he knew that.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says, crouching down to your level. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers, taking you in his arms. You didn’t want to fight back. “I’m sorry for-for doing that. For projecting my insecurities on you. I just…he has life figured out and I could never give you what he could give. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry,”

“I don’t want him,” you sniffled. “I’m with you, you know? Please…please, don’t call it bullshit. Because it’s not…for me, at least.”

“It’s not bullshit. I’m sorry, so fucking sorry for saying that. I’m so sorry,” he rambles sincerely. “You’re the best person that I’ve met. I love you. I love you so much that the thought of anyone else loving you drives me mad. I’m sorry,”

“You were mean to me,”

“I was, baby. I was,” he said. “I promise to stop myself from being mean. I’m so sorry. I don’t-don’t want to lose you. Please-please don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave.”

“I’m not going to leave you, Carmen.” you cooed, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

“Not that name, please. I’m just so fucking sorry for saying that and making you feel bad. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m sorry too. I should have been more considerate. I love you so much, Bear.”

“It’s my fault. All my fault,” 

“It’s not.”

“Can we-can we go to bed?” he asked, pulling away from you. You nodded. That night, when you were half-asleep, you felt his calloused hand caress your cheek. You’d never tell him, but you heard him. Loud and clear.

“I love you,” he whispers. “You don’t know how much I love you and I’m sorry. I love you.”

A/N: No Carmen Berzatto taglist yet! Also, if you’re waiting for the Tommy Shelby fic, you might have a to wait a week more before I release it. I want to release a chapter every week and I haven’t written the second chapter for this week yet. Thank you for reading! Don’t forget to leave comments and reblogs :)

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #fanfiction #angst #fluff #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto angst #carment berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto angst #the bear fx #ask

[neonovember]

Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)

Office Doors

Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world

warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen

carmen berzatto x reader!

(This is totally and completely canon btw)

You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.

You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.

You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.

It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.

And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.

The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.

Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.

You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.

Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.

One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.

You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.

They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.

Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.

Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 

“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 

Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.

You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 

You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.

You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.

“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.

The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively

“I definitely want something”

You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.

“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 

“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation

“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile

“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.

“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer

You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.

You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.

“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.

“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh

“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.

You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.

The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.

“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath

“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.

“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.

“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.

“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 

The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.

The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 

Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.

Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.

“What did he just say?” 

“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.

The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.

“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.

A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 

And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.

The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.

“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.

Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 

Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.

“Apologise”

“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 

“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 

The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.

“Do you accept? Huh honey?”

You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.

Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement

“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.

You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.

The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 

By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.

No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 

Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.

“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.

“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.

Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.

Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.

“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.

You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 

“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 

His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 

The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 

It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 

You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.

Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 

Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.

“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.

“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.

“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.

“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips

“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.

You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 

“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.

“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 

He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.

Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.

Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.

“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 

Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.

“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 

“Let them” 

Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 

You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.

“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over

Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.

Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.

“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.

“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.

Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.

You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 

You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.

Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.

The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 

You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 

He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.

You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.

You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.

Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.

Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.

As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait

“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 

“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.

You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 

It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 

You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.

“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.

You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.

The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.

You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.

Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.

The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.

You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.

You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 

Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.

You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.

After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.

“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise

“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.

“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.

“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.

“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”

“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover

“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 

Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.

“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.

“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.

“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.

You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.

#carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto request #neo november #neo writes #requests open #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x angst #carmy x fem!reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x angst #carmen berzatto smut #carmy #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto filth #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #the bear 2022 #the bear season 2

[leviathanspain]

kiss it off me

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: the woman who made him a man is back in town and he can barely hold it together

a/n: i tried to make it cohesive without rushing it, but oh well..enjoy!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

no one ever forgot their first time.

it was the sweetest taste, your cherry flavor stained lips, chapped from the dry chicago heat. he remembered the way they felt, soft and rubbery, his teeth had caught on them. then the fruity flavor had turned to iron, but he still kissed you as hard as he did the first time.

after he had bitten you, you had asked gently if he had ever done this before. carmen answered honestly, and you promised you’d teach him everything you knew.

but that had been years ago, and a lifetime of memories had occurred since then, that when richie had mentioned your name, carmy couldn’t place you.

“what was it again?” carmy asked, hands on his hips as he thought hard of what richie had just said.

“y/n. come on, cousin, don’t tell me you forgot!” his neck vein popped out, and carmy shook his head, his hands rubbing across his face as he thought hard.

“was she in school with me? how do you know her?” carmy shot out any questions that could connect you to him in his mind. it sounded familiar, the way richie said your name with thousands of memories behind it.

richie shrugged, “you brought this girl around to every single thing your family threw! she was your little girlfriend-“

“holy fuck- penny?” it was as if all the gears in carmy’s head had finally turned at the right time. he remembered you, of course he remembered you. he had to sift through all the bullshit of the past decade but now, it was like a fresh breath of air.

“penny? i swear her name was y/n.” richie raised his eyebrow, “i saw her at some magazine stand down the street, and i swear she looked familiar-“

“pennington. penny’s for pennington. i-“ carmy chuckled slightly, “mikey called me bear once, when she was around. and she had wanted a nickname like that.” richie could see the warmth in carmy’s face as he talked about you.

richie nodded in response, giving a second for carmy to come back down to earth. “i invited her to opening night. she’s one of those people who mold shit outta clay-“ he demonstrated with his hands, carmy’s eyes just staring out.

“cousin-“

“you invited her to opening night?” carmy echoed, and richie stared, hands falling onto the counter. he nodded, irritated with carmy’s absentmindedness.

“i want to be someone to be remembered.” the crinkle of the empty beer cans underneath your feet, followed your speech, “i want to be an artist!” your hands shot out, the drink in your left hand had partially spilled, but you didn’t seem to notice as you took another swig of it.

carmy’s face was hot. he felt it heat up after his first drink, and now had spent the entire night nervously pulling at his collar, trying to keep up with you.

you had driven him out to the suburbs in your mother’s beaten up volvo. he had gotten drinks, but hadn’t revealed how. but it didn’t matter, as the two of you were out, feet dangling above the ground, sitting in the trunk.

you turned to look at him. he looked beautiful in the moonlight, his blue eyes were deep, like pools of water that you wanted to get lost in.

“don’t you want to be an artist too, carmy?” your voice was soft, set to the pitch of innocence as you brought your hand up to caress his cheek. carmy was shy, eyes always darting away from yours, hands drawn up to his sides. it had taken a lot of convincing for him to even come out with you, but with the beer he had brought, you realized he could still surprise you.

it was in between your question and his answer that you had kissed him. it wasn’t the first time, there had been many more times since. but the passion was the same, the desire for more was always weighing heavy.

“yes..” carmy spoke, closing his eyes as your hands began to unbuckle his belt. he shivered, grabbing your hands, he helped you undo his belt, breath hitching as you kissed him harder.

carmen had been incredibly stressed all day. he had been stressed ever since richie had told him that you’d be coming to opening night. he had tried not to induce an attack, last time he saw you there had been a fight, and it was silence ever since.

but now, just the idea of your presence loomed over him like doomsday. today, even without you, could make or completely annihilate his career. but he was ready to face either or. you had taught him that, better or for worse.

“hey cousin!” richie thundered through the kitchen doors, his suit was dark and sleek, contrasting the chef coats everyone else was wearing. “y/n is at table five. sugar is talking to her, and it looks very,” he paused, and looked at carmy, “interesting.”

carmy sighed, “fuck.” he was busy, too busy that it should be inhumanly possible. he grabbed a towel, one that hung loosely over his shoulder and wiped his hands, “what did she order?” he looked around at all the other workers, looked at their plates and tried to guess.

richie smiled, crossing his arms across his chest as he spoke, “nothing.”

carmy had felt his face rise with heat as he slammed through the kitchen doors. he felt embarrassed, a little shocked even, that you hadn’t ordered anything for dinner.

he turned to the sound of sugar’s laugh, a familiar sound, he had found himself already walking over to the table. you hadn’t seen him yet, natalie had all your focus.

“hey-“ he greeted. sugar was the first to turn, and happily greeted her brother. you followed suit, but you didn’t say anything as the two exchanged a few words. instead you stared at carmy, years older, and completely unknown to you.

“hey bear.” you greeted, voice sweet on his name, you stood up, going in for a tight hug. he smelled of food, not surprising for someone who was just in the kitchen.

“hey pen..” he returned your greeting, and looked at his sister, who excused herself politely.

the two of you just stood for a moment, carmy watching as sugar circled around to talk to richie. carmy turned back to you, and extended his hand to your chair. you both sat, now face to face.

you looked different. the teenage invincibility had been exchanged for a confident, self assured adult. your eyes were still the kindest ones, he felt at ease just staring into them.

his eyes avoided your lips, avoided what they reminded him of.

“richie tells me your a sculptor?” carmy didn’t know why, but that was the first thing he had thought to ask. you laughed, surprised at his question too. but you nodded nevertheless, “yes, a local gallery is displaying some of my work. that’s why i’m back.” you played around with your silverware, and cleared your throat, “this is really lovely, carm. it’s-“ you looked around at it all, at the bustling scenery with various happy customers. “i’m really happy for you.” you finished.

carmy nodded, “yeah. thank you.” he blinked, and remembered what he had wanted to really ask. “are you not hungry or-“ you followed his gaze to the empty plate in front of you and you laughed, “oh- right!” you shrugged, “i don’t know actually. i guess i wanted to see if it was really you.” the way the words came out felt wrong, and you were quick to explain yourself.

“i didn’t mean it like that-“ you assured, and carmy laughed slightly, “i just hadn’t seen you in years that i almost didn’t believe it.” carmy nodded, “well, i’m here..im right here.”

the two of you locked eyes in that moment.

it was a special moment, something of substance that could ground carmy, and remind him of all the good things in life.

you tore your eyes away, and awkwardly laughed, “my show is next friday.” a card had appeared in your hands, and you were scooting it across the table to him, “i already gave one to your sister, and another to richie when i first saw him. you don’t have to come, i just figured-“ you looked around and he nodded, “yeah. no, totally. i’ll go.”

he found himself agreeing to go before he even fully thought it through.

he stood up, grabbing the card he tucked it into his coat. you looked up at him, eyes twinkling.

“bye carm.”

“bye pen.”

“you’ve got to calm down.” sydney had found herself at the end of an almost accident. carmy had forgotten the safe word, and nearly ran into sydney, who was carrying a large pot of boiling water.

she had set the pot down, realizing that there was something wrong with carmen.

carmy ignored her, and continued to furiously cook.

“hey-“ sydney put a hand on his shoulder but that seemed to make it all worse. carmy flinched, and dropped his spatula. he stepped back and shook his head, “back off, chef.”

“carm-“

“now.” his tone cut deep, and sydney nodded, annoyed with his response, she went back to work.

carmy’s hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. wind cut at his face, weaving through all the people on his way to the gallery.

he had checked the date and time multiple times, all day. he wanted to get it right, be there for you like you were for him. it had been a week since opening night, and he had thought about you every single night since.

you waited for him. people kept coming up to you, congratulating you on your new work, but none of it mattered. the work wasn’t for them, it was for him. and he was late.

“i could stay-“ carmy looked around nervously, eyes darting anywhere but the pools of pain in your eyes.

“no.” you bluntly said, “you will not stay here. you cant stay here. trust me carmen, you’re better off.” you had come to terms with the fact that if he stayed, he would be another mikey.

that’s why you had begged mikey not to let carmy work at the beef. he would never leave if he did.

carmy sighed, exhausted from the hours of arguing, “we’ll talk every day. i’ll- i can make time, between class-“ he tripped over his own words, and you had to stop him before it got worse.

“carmy-“ the way you looked at him made him realize that this was it. there was not going to be any calls, or any relationship because you were breaking up with him.

“i got into art school. i’ve been wanting to tell you, but i hadn’t made a decision.” you paused, “this is what’s best for both of us, bear.”

you had spotted him walking in. in the sea of pretentiousness, there he was. his wool jacket, perfect against the chilly weather, it had reminded you of all those winters during school.

“carmy!” you called his name, and waved him over. he weaved through to you, and greeted you with a hug and a kiss, “hey.”

he looked around at all artwork, “looks incredible.” he realized that along with sculptures, you had paintings as well. it was a cohesive collection, something that would definitely get talked about.

but as he looked at more work, he realized with a pang what the theme was. you followed him as he walked all around the gallery, until he finally got the main piece of work.

it was behind a rope, a blue velvet rope on all four sides as carmy, in statue form, looked out into the room of people.

“holy shit-“ he sounded breathless, eyes glued to a perfect posed, stone version of himself.

you watched his expression, unable to decipher how he was feeling. whether he was happy about it or not, you couldn’t tell.

more people came behind you to admire the statue, and carmy looked away, “is that it?” you nodded, and reached out, “come on, there’s one more thing, exclusive for the muse.”

muse, he whispered under his breath. he was your muse.

you took carmy to the office of the gallery. you had set up shop there, your belongings were scattered across the desk. you walked up to the desk, and leaned against it.

carmy walked in after you, and looked expectantly at you. you sighed, “you were the reason i came back. this,” there was a window where the statue could be seen, along with other pieces inspired by him. “was for you. you’ve been something that i’ve been trying to make right.���

carmy shook his head, “i’m not some broken toy that you can fix, penny.” your nickname cut like a blade in that moment and you exhaled. “i know that.” you replied, “i just- i cant get you out of my head, carmy. for years i’ve tried,” you stood up off the desk, and walked towards him.

carmy instinctively wrapped his hands around your waist, sitting them perfectly on your curves. you both remained silent as you got closer. but he was pulling you in too, just too close for comfort.

“come on, bear.” you whispered, nose dragging across his cheek, you closed your eyes and hoped he’d kiss you.

carmy shivered, his grip on you tightened as he kissed your cheek. it was soft, innocent almost. you opened your eyes, bringing your hands up to his face as you pulled him in for a kiss.

it was new. you hadn’t kissed him since you were teenagers. he was inexperienced, but he was willing to learn. but now as you kissed him, you realized that he’s kissed hundreds of people since then. but you didn’t care. you loved his taste, cigarettes and everything sweet.

he kissed you harder, his hands tightening on your hips that it was almost painful. you couldn’t help yourself, you pressed against him, carmy’s back digging into the wall behind him.

“fuck-“ you kissed him more, lips dragging from his to his neck. he shivered, but didn’t say anything as you began to kiss him lower and lower.

the bustling noise of the people outside broke him out whatever this was, and carmy put a hand on yours, which was right on his belt buckle. “not here.” he panted right into your lips, “later you can kiss it all off me, but not here.” he felt naked, those people out there were gawking at his stone figure like some lost greek artifact.

he couldn’t do it now.

you nodded, lingering in his eyes, “of course, bear. time and place, i’ll be there.” you leaned in for a kiss, which carmy happily gave away. a part of him wondered what this would be. he couldn’t think, he wouldn’t.

“i’ll- im gonna go, pen.” he had taken a minute, looking at the door for a moment before opening it. he exhaled deeply, stepping out as the door shut behind him.

you watched him walk, his broad back being lost in the crowd of onlookers. you tried to ignore the urge to smile, but even then, you couldn’t hide it.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy angst #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy x you #carmy the bear #the bear angst #the bear smut #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader

[fooled-around-and-fell]

square one.

summary: when carmen left for new york, he also left you. now he's back, unannounced, and no matter how angry you are at him... there's a small part of you that wants to see him again.

pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings: angst. cursing.

Masterlist

-----

you and carmen used to learn how to draw together. you'd watch classes from outside the shop because none of you could afford the actual class, and mrs. kendra was kind enough to let you two kids join in for free. under the condition that you'd help clean up, of course, but that was worth it.

as you grew up it was harder to see each other when you're both so focused on your careers, and the fact that your schedules never matched didn't help either.

you still kept in touch by texting each other, carmen made sure you always sent him a picture of your breakfast, lunch, and dinner because somehow you always miss a meal. but that also eventually stopped because you'd forget to take a picture and he'd forget to reply.

in fact, carmen stopped replying altogether. he disappeared one day. when you finally went to the beef to look for carmen, mikey told you carmen had left for new york.

he didn't even say goodbye.

-----

years after that -- after mikey's funeral, after the beef shut down, after it reopened to the bear... you wonder if you should go find him again. sugar has always told you to come visit, but she knows it's not that easy.

you've always had feelings for him, and part of you knows that he definitely knows. it's so obvious.

so did he choose to ignore it? all those years, was he just pretending that he didn't know?

standing in front of the bear, it seems ridiculous now to look for him. what are you going to say anyway?

"hey carm, it's nice to see you again."

"hey carm, why did you leave?"

"fuck you carmen."

"carmen."

"carmen!" you hear sugar's voice shout his name from the backdoor. you immediately hide behind a wall. they're arguing about something, and you're not sure why you're not already leaving.

maybe because you want to hear his voice. after years. maybe.. maybe you miss him. just a little.

there's so many questions you want to ask, so many things you want to tell him, but you don't know where to start.

"i'll call him back later."

and then there it is. your breath hitches when you hear his voice, and the little girl inside you decide to peek your head out to see him.

has he changed? is his hair different? is he dressed different? does he have the same tired look in his eyes? is he smiling more often?

there's a sense of longing when you see that he kept his curls and still has his naturally built stature. you vividly remember how it feels to be in his arms.

maybe you've been staring too long, because carmen can sense a pair of eyes staring at him and has begun turning his head. you manage to turn away just in time.

that was close.

your heart is beating fast, and you curse yourself for feeling this way. the same way you feel when he scolded you for not eating properly and then fixing you a meal.

the same way you feel when he used to help you out with drawings because he's just so good at it.

the same way you feel when he's just staring at you with a small smile on his face.

they're all just memories now.

you sigh and push yourself off the wall, walking home because you're too scared to confront him.

another day.

-----

you own a small boutique not far from the bear. it's not that hard to miss, especially since you're pretty famous for making custom shirts, dresses, jackets, all that stuff. especially for richie.

"hey cubby!" richie calls out. cubby, or cub, is the nickname mikey had given you the moment you couldn't separate from carmen when you were kids. a bear cub.

you walk to the front and see richie with a new, bright white button down shirt. looks real nice. "how can i help you, richie?"

"got a new shirt for a hot date. think you can help me shorten the sleeves a little bit?" he asks.

"of course. need this by tonight?" you ask before his phone rings.

"yep, you have my measurements, right?" he winks before taking the call. "oh, can you also drop it off by the bear? thanks, you're a doll, bye!"

you can't even protest because richie is long gone. sighing, you started working on the piece of clothing. richie's doing it in purpose, of course, he saw you yesterday peeking around the corner and he had to do something.

richie's shirt didn't even take you an hour to fix. to be honest it didn't even need fixing, richie was just being dramatic and playing cupid.

it's 3pm, and you know that the bear is probably empty right now. you could go, drop the shirt off, grab a sandwich to go and just leave.

yeah.

you can totally do that. it's fast, easy, and you won't run into carmen. definitely won't.

"cousin!"

you clench your jaw once you're one step into the restaurant. for once carmen isn't in the kitchen, he's by the cashier writing something down for richie to remember later.

"honestly, why is he always gone when i need him-" carmen's mutters stop when he sees you frozen in place.

how should you play this?

feign innocence? pretend like you never knew he's back from new york? or get angry and tell him you're hurt? fuck, doesn't that sound so petty and childish?

silently taking a deep breath, you walk to the cashier and hand him richie's nicely folded shirt. "hey. give this to richie, will you? thanks."

"o-oh. sure."

you turn to leave.

is he going to stop you? call your name? maybe once you're outside. once you're a few steps away, he's gonna call you and tell you to wait. he should, right? he will, right?

you keep hoping he's going to care, even if that means just giving you a second glance while you're walking out, but there's nothing. you're already back in your boutique and you realize carmen didn't even bother to.. do anything, really.

he just doesn't care about you that way.

-----

why did you have richie's shirt?

are you with richie now? casually? something more serious?

why did you have his shirt?

are you happy with richie?

why are you with richie?

"carmen!"

"what?!" he turns his head to sugar who's frowning at him worriedly.

she takes the knife in his hands and put them away. "what the hell were you thinking about?"

carmen sees the blood on the cutting board and curses. "nothing."

"wasn't nothing if you didn't even realize you'd cut yourself."

carmen washes his cut finger and pats it gently with a cloth. sugar helps him bandage the cut. she looks at him and sees he's still in distress. "is this about cubby?"

"what?" carmen frowns, almost forgetting the nickname mikey gave you. "no."

"carmen."

"it's not."

"stop denying it."

he looks away. "...she was here today."

sugar's eyes widen in surprise. "really? what was she doing here?"

"came to return richie's shirt." he says, chest tight. "didn't know they're together."

sugar wants to punch richie right now. "they're not."

"i dunno, seemed that way."

"believe me, they're not." sugar sighs. "i know her."

carmen frowns. it sounded like sugar was trying to poke a certain topic. "and i don't?"

"carm," she deadpans. "you disappeared on her. you really think she can be all chirpy when she sees you like.. what, almost 7 years later?"

his turn to sigh. "no, yeah. you're-you're right. she deserves to be happy."

"yes, she does." sugar emphasizes. "so what are you gonna do about it?"

-----

today seems particularly longer than any other day. you're bringing home a few yards of fabric to finish a client's requested dress, and you know it's gonna be a long night.

you just closed the shop and are about to leave when you see carmen standing nearby, hands in his pocket, a cigarette between his lips. he takes another drag before putting it out when he sees you.

he's facing you now, and you're not sure what to do. or what he wants.

carmen sees your uncomfortable expression and curses at himself. maybe he shouldn't have done this after all. he can just leave- no. don't do that.

"aren't you going to say anything?" you ask, not looking at him.

carmen feels like he's being pushed into a corner and gulps. "i... i don't really know what to say..."

anger bubbles up inside you. "well then what the fuck are you doing here? if you're not here to explain how you-" you stop yourself from going further. you're not going to let him know that you've been thinking about him for all this time.

"forget it." you sigh and walk away.

"no, wait." carmen chases after you. "i just... fuck, i'm not good with words, okay? i don't know how to say it."

"yeah? maybe leave for another 7 years and see if you can figure that out."

carmen stays silent and that angers you even more. you smile bitterly, "you know what, let me make it easier for you this time."

"goodbye, carmen."

-----

part 2 is OUT

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmen berzatto angst #carmen angst #carmy angst #the bear angst #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto x f! reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Vienna - Sneak Peek!!

update - read it here !!

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You’re home.”

He breathes it, as if he can’t quite catch a lungful of air.

“I’m home,” you say, sweeping your thumbs across his cheekbones. “You’re home.”

“I’m home.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

get ready - out saturday 6th april <3

its gonna have pining, childhood best friends to lovers, found family, reunion, angst, fluff, smut… all of it!! (over several chapters, not solely this one)

series masterlist here.

#vienna #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto angst #bestfriend!carmy berzatto #bestfriend!carmen berzatto #the bear fluff #the bear smut #the bear angst

[aestheticaltcow]

A Different Point of View

I want more Sugar in season three. I've also been doing a lot of edibles recently, and they've given me a lot of interesting fan fic ideas...

There's a saying about getting phone calls late at night, but at the moment, it was the furthest thing on Natalie’s mind. She sat on the front porch swing, foot-tapping a million miles an hour as she repeatedly called her younger brother; she knew he’d still be awake. New York was only an hour ahead of Chicago, and he had never been off work before 2 AM. Natalie let out an exasperated sigh and hung up before dialing again. “Nat?” Pete softly called from the front door; he had been watching her chain smoke from the kitchen while making her a cup of tea. “I love you, but please leave me alone.” she pleaded as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. He nodded and stepped forward, placing the mug on the small table beside her, “I’ll be upstairs.” Pete weakly grinned and kissed her head before going back inside. “Carmy, answer your fucking phone.” Natalie moaned in frustration, “Mikey’s gone.”

“And one hot mocha for the wife.” Pete cheerfully greeted, placing a mug in front of Natalie the following day. “Thanks.” she mustered before returning her attention to her phone, “Did he call back?” Pete softly approached, sitting next to her. She shook her head, “I’m going to kill him. He’s supposedly a grown-up,” Natalie cut herself off when Carmy’s contact came up on her phone. She got up from the table and answered the call, “Carmen. Why didn’t you answer my calls last night?” it had come off harsher than she’d originally intended, but in the moment, it felt justified. “I was workin’ Sugar, okay?” he was annoyed, but Natalie didn’t care, “Okay, so you get what 100 calls from your sister, and you don’t step outside for what all of two minutes to find out why she’s calling you?!” she heard Carmy let out an annoyed grunt. “Natalie-” Carmy started, “No, Carmy! Just because you left doesn’t mean you aren’t still part of this family.” “I know… I know… I’m sorry, Natalie.” Carmy attempted to apologize. “Just come home. Mom’s a mess-” “Sugar, I can’t right now. I’ll come out when I can.” 

Natalie closed her eyes and tried to compose herself before saying something she may regret. “Carmen Anthony Berzatto. Michael killed himself. He was always fuckin’ there for you. Get your ass to Chicago now.” “Sugar, I can’t fuckin’ deal with this right now. I love you, bye.” Natalie stared at the wall in disbelief. She returned to the kitchen and sat beside Pete without saying anything. He sensed something was amiss. He put his coffee cup back on the table before moving closer to her and putting an arm around her shoulders, “He’s such a bitch, Pete.” Natalie said she was at her breaking point. Pete nodded and pulled her closer to his body as he rubbed her bicep. She put her head on his shoulder and quickly blinked, trying not to cry. 

The Berzatto house was quiet, apart from Donna’s sobs. Natalie sat on the couch, trying to make plans for Mikey’s funeral. “Any luck with Bobby Flay?” Richie asked, bringing Natalie a glass of water. She shook her head, “How’s Donna?” Richie sat down on the couch beside her, “Like when your Dad died but on crack.” Natalie scoffed at the comment. 

Later that night, Natalie sat at the kitchen table, trying to finalize the plans for Michael’s funeral. She bit at the dry skin on her bottom lip as she thought about that point of view. It was something that she hadn’t understood these past weeks. Why did Mikey do this? There had to be a reason he didn’t talk to her about what was happening. She rubbed the bridge of her nose as Pete came clambering down the stairs, “Nat? Honey, you should get some sleep.” Natalie shook her head. “I need to finish these plans-” “You can after you get some sleep.” Pete asserted, putting a hand on Natalie’s shoulder. “Come to bed.” 

Pete noticed the turmoil that Natalie had been going through leading up to Mikey’s funeral. He was never particularly close to either of her brothers, but he knew how much they meant to her. Watching his wife’s heart break when she noticed Carmy’s absence was his tipping point. He contemplated getting on a plane and dragging the man back to Chicago. He pushed the thought out of his mind when he noticed Donna lecturing Natalie about something. He couldn’t hear what was said but knew it had to be something out of Natalie’s control. He managed to slip over and change the subject effortlessly; he laughed internally, knowing that the Berzattos never truly warmed up to him even though he’d been with Natalie for as long as he had. “Thank you,” Natalie whispered as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He nodded and kissed her head as he hugged her back. 

“Call me back, Carmen. I love you. Bye,” Natalie snapped as she hung up the phone and pushed her fingers through her hair. This was her breaking point with Carmy. He’d finally returned to Chicago, but watching him lose himself in The Beef was killing her. He only called when he needed something, and Natalie feared Carmy would turn into Mikey. Mikey had roped her into the dumpster fire at the family restaurant, and now that Carmy was involved, she felt like it was going to steal another person she loved.

 “I just don’t understand how he can go in the place.” Natalie ranted to Pete that night. He nodded, “Didn’t Mikey forbid Carmy from working there?” Natalie shrugged in response. “Carmy was just a kid, you know? Mikey was protective and didn’t want him to waste his life away in that place like he and our Dad did… or some other unknown reason.” Natalie poked at her food and ultimately stood up from the table in frustration. “I thought when Carmy moved back, he’d go back to being my little brother- before he left for Europe, he’d actually call me. Not just when he needed me to do something for him.” Natalie picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen, “Pete, I just want my brothers back.”

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