#it's part of Carmy's routine

[thoughtfulchaos773]

I will always be obsessed by Carmy’s obsession with what Sydney is wearing.

[mayomkun]

man the bear SS3 EP6

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight pt 2 | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: you leave a surprise for carmen at work that lets him know he's been caught watching your content & the aftermath that follows. she/her pronouns used!

contents: perv!carmy, mentions of anxiety, mentions of filming sex tapes, dirty talk, fingering, hand job, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, doesn't pull out (sorry he's possessive idk what to say). he also has this lil god complex over your other subscribers

word count: 4,587k

author notes: i had to cut a lil out bc otherwise this was getting lllooonngg. thank you for all the love on part one & i hope you enjoy this one too!! <33

part one

Carmen wonders what you think of this mysterious new account that keeps donating to you. Sending you small gifts. It's nothing too large - He's not trying to put himself into debt by any means. But it is his way of cosmically balancing the scale of viewing your content without you knowing.

Sometimes he lets his mind wonder and entertains the idea of filming with you. Letting all these losers who sit alone at night watching you get a glimpse of how good he could treat you. Your knees over his shoulders as he folds you in half, harsh and rough strokes pounding in and out of you. Sometimes you get smart with him - It's the nature of the kitchen. He thinks about you in that position whenever you pop off with some snarky remark. Pinned under him, two fingers in your mouth. "Put that pretty mouth to use for me. There you go, Baby." His fingers sliding in further, causing you to gag around them but you reach up to hold his wrist in place to let you know you're good. 

He’d fuck you until you can’t think straight, a moaning mess against his fingers as you’re reduced to coming around his cock with no warning. Orgasm shaking through your body and Carmen would just keep fucking into your sensitive body until he can’t take it anymore.

This becomes his new morning routine. Waking up 20 minutes earlier than he really needs to because he just knows he’ll be hard from dreams of you. It’s a bit of an obsession at this point in all honesty but he can’t help himself. He pictures you laid out against his bed sheets, sleepy and grabbing at any inch of him that you can. You’d just be able to relax and get fucked well to start the morning, he’d do all the work for the two of you. 

Any mental space not occupied by the restaurant is fully dedicated to you. 

———★–————————–

Carmen’s barely awake when he walks into the restaurant. His eyes still feel so heavy and there's a level of exhaustion that he just can't seem to shake in his bones. He's grunting acknowledgment at the team, doing a double take as he catches you grinning wickedly at the board in front of you. There’s a familiar pang of jealousy - What’s got you so entertained this year? He scoffs at his imaginary man he’s made up that’s vying for your attention as he heads into the office to work on this week’s orders. 

Except he’s stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of lingerie he just sent you last week folded neatly in the center of the desk. His heart drops to the bottom pit of his stomach as he steps closer and sees a packing order next to the set - His name and address under the billing information circled in a bright neon pink Sharpie. Carmen knows for a fact that he double, triple checked that this was supposed to be a gift and for his information to be excluded so what the fuck happened? 

He’s throwing his jacket over the desk just in case someone walks in before he can take care of this situation but he’s got to get a handle on you first. He’s embarrassed at getting caught. Imagining you must think the worst of him. Trying to justify it by at least he was sending you stuff, right? Cotton boy shorts he thought you’d look so delicate in and lacy pieces of barely there bodysuits he wanted to rip apart and leave stained with his cum. 

He's storming over to you now, ignoring the way Richie called out his name to join him for a smoke break. You hear him mutter out a "Okay then, Cousin. I'll just go fuck myself." That Carmen doesn't even acknowledge. All his attention fully focused on you. His words are coming off harsh as his body tries to process all the different emotions coursing through his veins.

"We gotta fuckin' talk."

The words hang heavy in the air and you find yourself entertained with how assertive he’s being. 

“Why’s that?” You’re looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. There’s anxiety practically rolling off of Carmy’s body and you’re gonna get to soothing him in a minute but you’re letting him sweat it out first. You didn’t mind that he saw your videos but you were a little pissed he didn’t bring it up. Half because you could have been putting him knowing to use, half because it did feel a little taboo for your boss to be trying to anonymously send you lingerie. 

“Nah, don’t play that shit right now. You know why.” His voice is harsh but you know he’s not angry with you. You can smell the combination of cigarettes and spearmint gum on his tongue with how close he is. His cologne comes into the mix and it’s heavenly in all honesty. He’s embarrassed for getting caught, worried he’s gonna lose one of his best chefs, and worried he’s upset you. Someone’s yelling that they need Carmen to sign for a delivery and your time with him is coming to an end for now. 

Normally your hand never dips below his shoulders or the top of his chest. Always friendly, light touches. This time your hand comes up to rest flat against his heart and you can feel it quickly beating. “Carmy - Breathe.” Your eyes don’t leave his as your hand slides down his chest, fingers trailing along the soft cotton of his shirt. Stopping only once you can feel the dip of his hip. “We’re okay. Go handle your restaurant, I’ll talk with you tonight.” 

You pat the back of your hand against his hip he’s being called for again, feeling a little dizzy under the intensity of his stare. He’s still nervous, knuckles turning white as he keeps a death grip on the line. “Carmen Berzatto, you’re fine. We’re fine. I promise you, okay?” Finally taking pity on him you give a warm smile, stepping back and breaking eye contact. “Go sign for the clams before we have to change tonight’s special and Sydney kills us.”

———————–★–———

Everyone’s long gone by this point of the night. Tina tried to convince Carmen to go home and get some sleep about twenty minutes ago but he made some excuse about wanting to reorganize the walk-in before tomorrow’s service. Really he’s just counting down the minutes until the two of you are alone. You haven’t been able to talk today - Too many listening ears around for Carmen’s comfort. In your defense, you just minded your business and kept on top of your station. 

But God he can’t stop admiring you from across the room. There’s less shame to it now that you know. Still anxiety, yes. But your comforting earlier has him… Hopeful? Hopeful for what he’s not sure. 

You catch him staring at one point during dinner service, risking a glance around the kitchen and throwing him a wink before turning back to work and deliberately giving him a small shake of your ass. To anyone else it would probably look like you were just swaying mindlessly. Not to Carmen though. You’re teasing him and it’s working.

Tina’s finally shouting out goodbyes and Carmen’s eyes are trained on watching as you walk towards the office. Any pretend task he was doing is quickly forgotten as he intently follows you. He’s played this situation over in his head a dozen times, even burned himself on the cigarette he forgot he was holding earlier.

He finds you standing by the desk, running your fingers along the edge of it and grinning. “What happened to my present, Carmen?” 

“Chucked it in my locker. Couldn’t risk someone findin’ them, you know?” It’s embarrassing enough having to answer to you, he couldn’t imagine trying to explain to the staff (or God forbid his sister) why there’s lingerie with his name on the desk. Carmen’s face is overheated and his heart is pounding. For all the hours he’s spent fantasizing about you, he’s never really considered this conversation until today. Typically he skips right towards fucking you however you’ll let him. But now he’s stuck face to face and trying to figure out how to acknowledge his actions. 

"You know I, uh -..." He's sputtering out, trying to figure out just how to defend himself, "You're very, very pretty if that means anything. Fuckin' gorgeous, honestly."

"Did you get off watching me?"

There's no going back now.

"Yeah, I did."

You're grinning at him now, stepping closer and Carmen swears the temperature in the room just went up by ten degrees. He's got his eyes trained on your face for the second time tonight. Hunting out exactly how you're feeling. What he doesn't expect is to feel a feather light touch along the waistband of his pants, nails scratching along his skin as you slide two fingers under the fabric. "Did you think about fucking me? Or did you think about me getting on my knees for you more?"

Carmy's starting to wonder if this is real. Maybe another daydream? For the time being he decides to stay with it though. Trying with all his might to sound as confident as he's mentally done so many times having this part of conversation with you in his head before. "Fucking you. Always thought how much better I'd feel for you than those little toys you use. Sometimes -" He takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders and trying to build up the confidence to keep this going. He's still not convinced he isn't in some sort of trouble with you. "Sometimes I'd watch you play with your clit. Watch you whine and just knew how badly you needed me to be there."

Your hand slides lower now, fingers pushing through the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Carmen's breathing stops at the touch and you can feel him getting hard under your touch. "Really?" You hum, flattening your hand out and running it down his length. His hips twitch involuntarily as you cup your hand over him, middle finger dragging along his tip. "I've thought about you too, you know? Sometimes you get so fucking pissed off during a rush. I think to myself 'God, he needs to take that anger out' and wonder if fucking me out back would help calm you down. Letting you use me. Sometimes I think you'd walk away after you finish but I know you'd never leave me there all needy and not taken care of, right Carmy?"

He's shaking his head, his heart pounding and he's pretty sure he has never breathed his hard in his life. Labored and uneven while his cock keeps getting hard under your hand. He wants to kiss you, drop to his knees and lick you until you forgive him or decide to take pity and let him fuck you. But instead he settles for showing his need by rocking his hips up against your hand, letting out a broken little groan. "Never would just leave you back there. All I wanna do is - fuck - treat you right. Every night I think about how pretty you must sound begging for me."

You wrap your hand around the base of Carmen's cock, giving him a pleased grin when he fucks himself into your dry fist instantly.

"Do you think you deserve my pussy, Carmy?"

Another jolt of his hips. "No, no I fucking don't."

You lean in, just barely ghosting your lips against his. Carmen has given up all control and allows himself to be fully at your mercy. Your hand pulls back from his cock, sliding out of his pants and he's whining. Shamelessly whining. You're kissing the corner of his mouth, lips traveling down his jaw while you make quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. You grab ahold of his hand, sliding it down the front of your pants and into your underwear. Keeping his hand flat along yours, you use your fingers to navigate his. Rewarding him with a quiet moan right in his ear as the two of you press down against your clit. "I'm so wet for you, Carmy. Been thinking about what you must feel like ever since I caught you watching me." Your hips are rolling down against your hands as you come back up to face him again, bumping your noses together and rewarding him with another moan when Carmen's hand starts to move on its own. Two rough fingers sliding down from your clit to between your folds.

"C'mon, Chef. Want you to fuck me just like you've been dreaming about. Can you be a good boy and do that for me, hmm?"

Something deep in Camren finally snaps and he’s ready to fully earn your praise. One hand comes up to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a deep kiss while the other hand focuses on teasing your clit. His tongue is licking into your mouth at the same time one of his fingers begins to push into you and the combination of sensations is heavenly. You’re moaning into the kiss, both of your hands coming to wrap around his chest so you can begin pressing your fingers into the muscles of his toned back.

He doesn’t let up - Tongue sliding along yours and his fingers messaging the back of your neck while his other hand pulls out of you. You’re whining at the loss as Carmy pulls back, his fingers coming up to lips as he licks you off of them. “Been dreaming about what you taste like.” He looks sinful - Blue eyes staring into your soul as he follows his early fantasy and pops his fingers out of his mouth. Index finger tracing over your bottom lip until you take the hint and let your jaw fall open. Carmen’s fingers slipping in and weighing heavy against your tongue. “Dream about you begging me to come all over this pretty face.”

You start to rub your thighs together as the heat builds in your core, finding yourself getting more desperate as time goes on. Carmen drops to his knees, making quick work of pulling down your jeans and helping you step out of them. He’s making sure you're balanced once again before looking up to realize you’re wearing a pair of the underwear he sent you. Carmy smirks to himself, realizing he’s played right into your little game.

You want to make some cocky remark but suddenly his face is between your thighs and you lose all train of thought. His nose bumps along your covered clit before he licks a strip up the soaked fabric. “Can’t believe how fuckin’ wet you are.” Carmy reaches up to slide the panties down your thighs, taking his time and keeping his eyes looking up at you while he does. You watch as the pair is stuffed into his back pocket and he begins to place open mouth kisses along your inner thigh. Lips exploring closer and closer but always just far enough away from where you need him.

Your hand comes down to lace in his hair, the other one reaching over to try and steady your shaky legs by gripping onto the desk. “Carmy please.” You give his hair a little tug, unsure of his pain tolerance but you’re rewarded with a guttural groan coming from below you.

“Fuck - Pull my hair again.”

So you do, getting a better grip at the base and giving his hair a good pull. You direct his head closer to your center and Carmen lets you until he finds himself buried into your pussy. His tongue lapping over your folds and completing a circuit around your clit before going back down to the base of your hole. He’s moaning your name into you, his hands coming up to grab ahold of your ass. Helping you stay balanced while making sure you can’t get too far away from him.

He’s pretty sure if you say his name again he’s going to come in his pants so he’s putting in as much effort as he can to keep you distracted. Delivered a sharp smack to your ass at the same time he sucks onto your clit. He brings his other hand back between your thighs, tongue still working against your clit while he traces you with his bare fingers. 

There’s a finger being pushed into you and you tug on Carmen’s hair once again as he quickly pushes another in, dragging them both along your walls and all he can think is how good you’re going to feel wrapped around his cock. “S’good, Carmy. So fucking good. Jesus Christ.”

Your thighs are clamping around Carmy's head and both of your hands fly to grab a hold of his hair as you feel your orgasm start to build up in your stomach. “Shit! Carmen please!” He doesn’t let up, sucking at your clit while his fingers continue to curl inside of you. No one has been able to make you finish like this before and you’re a mess of gasps and moans and hips jerking involuntarily. 

It only takes another minute of him stretching you out and licking you up for your orgasm to hit. A mess of curses and cries falling from your lips as the sensation falls over you. Your legs instantly go weak and Carmen’s quick to grab a hold of your hips to keep you upright. 

He’s helping you hop onto the ledge of the desk with a reassuring little “Relax, I got you.” Your thighs are shaking, whole body vibrating and you’re keeping your thighs apart to avoid any pressure on your overstimulated clit. Carmen’s so proud of himself at the sight of you trying to recover. He’s between your knees, pressing down his work pants and his boxers before haphazardly kicking them across the floor. Your eyes drag along his chest, over his tattoos, along the length of him that’s thick and beautiful and ready to be buried inside of you. 

His hands find the bottom hem of your shirt, grabbing ahold and pulling it over your head. Your bra follows suit next. Both of your clothing is covering the floor of the office and you can't help but giggle at the mess made in Carmen's otherwise prestigious space. He's letting out a hum of appreciation at the sight of your breasts. Cupping one in each hand and letting his thumb drag across your nipples. "Fuckin' gorgeous. Been wanting to do this for so long."

There's a mouth wrapped around your nipple now, Carmen making quick work of sucking at it. Flicking his tongue across the hard nub. He pulls back, blowing a stream of cool air against your wet skin before switching to your other breast and repeating the process. You get to sit there and savor the feeling, playing with his hair while Carmen takes his time exploring your breasts. When he thinks you're just blissed out enough, he kisses a path up to leave a small hickey onto your soft skin.

You notice, of course you do.

But you don't complain.

Carmen wonders if you'll let him mark you up before you film anymore content. Wonders how many men will realize they don't stand a chance with you anymore and that you belong to him already.

There's another nip being delivered to the skin of your breasts before he comes back up to give you a warm smile.

Carmen’s leaning in to grab ahold of your jaw, kissing you gently while you reach out to grab ahold of him and get rewarded with a moan. Rubbing your thumb across his tip to collect a bit of moisture and lazily jerk him off.  He’d be fine with this and nothing else for the rest of the night. Getting you off and finishing wherever you ask him to but he knows that won’t be enough for you. For now he enjoys exploring your mouth. Getting to taste you and he wonders if you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. 

You scoot towards the edge of the desk and wrap your free arm around Carmen’s neck. You’re both so hot to the touch. Hearts beating fast, breathing uneven. Needy and unashamed how obsessed with the other you both are. His hands start rubbing up and down your thighs as he gives you a second to recover from your orgasm. He’s got you smiling against his lips as you kiss him, giving a playful nip to his bottom lip. You can’t decide if you want him to use you while you’re still riding the aftershocks or obsessed with how he’s letting you savor the moment. 

Once your thighs stop shaking you wrap them around Carmen’s waist, dragging his body closer to yours. He’s chuckling at you, firm hands sliding down to grab at your hips and your ass, whatever he can get a hold of first. “Wanna watch you put me in. You do so good at fucking yourself in your videos, Baby. Wanna see you tease yourself with me instead of those fucking toys.” 

You drag the tip of him through your folds, teasing the both of you. Carmy’s giving up every ounce of control in this moment, all given to you. “So big. You’re gonna make me feel so good, Chef.” There’s a sound coming from deep in his chest, “Use my name.” Oh. You nod the best you can while being so close to him, giving a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m so wet for you, Carmy.” 

You’re sliding the length of him between your folds again, tapping his head at your own clit before bringing him to settle right against your hole. Your hand comes around to press on his ass, directing him to push in. It’s hard to tell which sound is coming from who but soon the small office is filled with broken moans as he starts to stretch you out. 

His first stroke is slow, both of you adjusting to the sensation. He’s sinking in inch by inch, thinking of whatever bullshit nonsense he can to keep himself from instantly busting when he’s barely even inside of you. His brain is glitching, trying to hold onto this one time he walked in on Fak taking a bubble bath to keep his orgasm at bay but at the same time you’re moaning his name and playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and his balls feel so heavy and heavenly resting against you as he bottoms out and - 

“Carmen please, please.” Right, focus. 

He’s kissing you once again before rolling his hips. There’s his strong arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place and you feel so warm and safe and full. You decide maybe Carmy deserves a little more shit soon for not burying himself inside of you the second he found your channel. “Gonna take care of you, Honey. Feel’s so good huh? Been dreaming of you wrapped around my cock and it’s so much better than I could have imagined.”

You nod and feel your body going limp, leaning your head down to rest your forehead on his shoulder while he starts to fuck into you. Each time you press a warm, open mouth kiss to his neck his speed picks up. The lewd slapping sound of his cock sliding into your wet pussy combined with his balls slapping against your ass filling the room. He’s bumping his shoulder up against your head, “Look at me? I wanna see your pretty face.” 

It takes all the strength left in your body to pick your head back up, “So much better than when I do it myself, Carm. Needed you so bad, so fucking bad.” He grunts, rewarding your praise with a sharp jerk of his hips as he brings his hand down to toy with your still sensitive clit. Your head falls back at the sensation so Carmen brings his free hand to grab your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. “Eyes on me.” He wants to make some empty threat that he’ll stop fucking you if you look away again but he can’t even pretend to want to step away from this.

His thumb stays on your clit while we keeps fucking into you at a steady pace. His lips ghosting over yours as you both get closer to falling apart. “You can give me another, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me. You can do that for me, yeah? Wanna be good for me don’t you?” Your nails drag along his back and something about the hiss it draws from his lips and the way his pace sputters at the feeling. 

You’re a blubbering mess in all honesty. Any facade from your videos of being cool and collected is long gone as Carmen chases your orgasm. Just whimpering out his name and pleas to the best of your ability until there’s one fateful stroke combined with your clit being brushed against that has you coming undone. Nails dragging into his back and he keeps your head in place to watch as your orgasm plays over your features. 

Within seconds you feel him start to pull out of you, presumably for his own release. “Please, Carmy. Wanna feel you fill me up.” Remember how Carmen’s become more religious since he started falling for you? In this moment he truly thinks God made you special just for him. 

His lips are crashing into yours, sloppy kisses meant for nothing more than to convey need being shared until you feel his body go stiff. Hips jerking on instinct as he fills you deep with cum. One of the thrusts causes some of the liquid, a combination of the both of you, to push out around the base of his cock and he stores that feeling for later. “Fuck you feel so good like this.” 

Carmen’s sensitive and getting soft but he can’t help a few more thrusts into your sloppy pussy. Savoring the way he’s been able to claim you as his. There’s a stray thought that he really does want to film with you one night, keep the camera steady on your pretty body as he defiled it.

He stays buried in you, not quite ready to pull out. Carmen’s analyzing your features from this close - The curve of your nose, how well your lashes frame your eyes, the sleepy little content smile on your lips. He’s fascinated by you. The feeling is mutual as you trace over his tattoos, rolling your shoulders back to help relax your body. 

The two of you stay like that for a while, both just soaking the other in. You finally look up from his chest to give him a sheepish girl, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. “So - Better than what you imagined?” 

Carmen’s laughing, the sound rumbling through his chest and warming up your heart. He looks lighter than he did when he confronted you this morning, a sparkle in his eye even. “Holy fuck, so much better.” You get another kiss from him after the admission, his hands coming down to grip at your ass. “Let's get you cleaned up and I’m bringing you back to my place for the night, yeah?” 

It’s your turn to grin, nodding enthusiastically and giving his bicep a squeeze. “Yes, Chef.”

[carmenberzattosgf]

You’ve mentioned this before but cockwarming is 10000% Carmy’s favourite physical thing to do. It can be a part of sex or just something on its own but either way it makes him feel safer than anything else. He literally never feels safer than when he’s just inside reader, it lulls him into this state of comfort that he’s never experienced before like the ceiling could fall in and he would barely notice. He asks for it whenever he’s particularly stressed and at first he feels bad and that’s selfish because he thinks reader isn’t getting anything out of it but after a while she can teach him that that’s not true. Bonus hc that sometimes during cockwarming he comes he can’t explain it and he always feels embarrassed but it happens

Cockwarming making Carmy feel safe is the perfect way to put it, actually.

You’re just so warm and snug around him. Seriously, he could have the worst day at work ever, but it would all be forgotten about the second you sit on his dick.

I think it becomes a routine in all honesty. Carmy comes home from work, gets showered, and you both snuggle up on the couch to watch some tv. More often than not it ends up with him inside of you.

The way he initiates it is always gentle, carefully pulling you into his lap so you can feel his hard-on through his shorts. “Can you, baby? Please?” His voice is soft in your ear.

“Mhm—of course,” you reply instantly, sitting up to push down your pants and underwear. Carmy holds you close as you straddle him, groaning into your lips when you sink down onto his cock.

His arms wrap around your body as soon as you bottom out. Carmy holds you like his life depends on it, keeping your skin flush with his own. Carefully, he shifts down so he can lean back against the arm of the couch, keeping you on top of him. He’ll rub at your back with his fingertips, relishing in your warmth all over him.

Carmy tends to feel bad about asking you to do this for him, because he doesn’t want to be a bother. He also doesn’t want you to think he just wants your body all the time. It takes a hot second to unwire his brain from thinking so negatively about it, and that you enjoy the comfort just as much as he does.

About your bonus thought… YES.

The first time it happens is after he’s been inside you for nearly an hour. Out of nowhere, a breathy, broken groan leaves his mouth while he has his face buried in the crook of your neck. Next, you feel the tell-tale warmness deep inside of you. A series of whimpers falls from his lips before he finally stills.

“Carm? You okay?” You ask with a gentle voice.

“Shit—s-sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to—“ His face is completely pink when he raises up from the crook of your neck.

“Hey, Bear. S’okay. You have nothing to apologize for—nothing at all.” You cup his face and bring him in for a deep kiss to stop him from trying to apologize again.

Once the kiss breaks, you settle back down on top of him, and he holds you even closer to try and prevent any of his cum from spilling out.

It’s safe to say you both fall asleep on the couch that night. At some point during the night, Carmy wakes up and reaches for the blanket that stays on the back of the couch, covering you and him up.

[fishfooddude]

I've Never Done This Before

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

MDNI 18+

Carmy bites the bullet and books a session with his favorite OnlyFans models.

My Directory

The Bear Masterlist

He was nervous.

This was crazy, truly insane. Did this make him a pervert? 

Carmy sat on the oversized plush king-sized bed decorated with a navy blue comforter and more pillows than any two people could need. He pushed his hands through his hair as he fell back on the mattress. Anxiety coursed through his veins as he stared at the ceiling. This was unlike him; he knew he could leave- he’d lose his deposit and be out the price of booking this hotel room… as he got lost in his thoughts, there was a knock on the door. You were here.

You waited outside the door of the hotel room, double-checking that you were at the right door. There was rustling on the other side of the door, and you shifted in your stance. When the door opened, a wave of surprise came over you; this guy was not what you’d been expecting. Sandy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a collection of black and grey tattoos decorating his muscular arms. “Carmy, right?” you asked, trying to hide some of the surprise. He nodded and moved to the side to allow you into the room. 

Carmy pushed his hair back as he closed the door. He swallowed softly, feeling his stomach bubble as he joined you in the middle of the room. “You brought the paperwork, right?” you asked, setting your tote bag on the singular comfy chair in the corner of the room. As he fished the paperwork out of the front pocket of his jeans, he got a better look at you. It was about six months ago that he discovered your OnlyFans page, and since then, watching your videos had become part of his nightly routine. When he started requesting videos, he became increasingly enthralled with you. 

You noticed how Carmy’s hand shook as he handed you the folded paper from his pocket. “I’m- i’m clean…” he stammered, you nodded in confirmation after reading over the paperwork. 

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” you asked, noticing the growing sweat stains under his arms and around the neckline of his overly tight white t-shirt. Carmy shook his head, “I’ve- I’ve had sex before-” Carmy paused as he realized what he’d just said, “I don’t know why I said that…” 

You nodded, “It’s okay, Carmy. How about I help you relax, then we’ll see how you’re feeling.” Carmy agreed, and you gestured toward the bed. “Take a seat…” You softly smiled as you watched him sit on the edge of the bed. “You comfortable like that?” you teased, noticing how stiff he was. He nodded uncomfortably, “I’m sorry-” you cut Carmy off with a soft ‘shhh’. “It’s okay, how about we talk for a little bit?” you asked as you closed the distance between you two. Carmy nodded and let his shoulders drop as you got closer to him. As he exhaled, he took a moment to look you up and down. He was accustomed to seeing you in sexy costumes and intriguing lingerie, so it was different to see you in a random sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. “Do you want me to sit next to you or on you?” 

Carmy thought for a moment before tapping the space beside him. You joined him, making yourself comfortable before looking at Carmy, you could see the hunger in his gaze. “So, do you want to talk or do you want me to rub your shoulders or…” You trailed off, watching Carmy's eyes rake over your body. A blush came across his cheeks as he cleared his throat before speaking, “Can you… Can you touch yourself?” His voice cracked as he asked.

As you ran a lavender vibrator along your panty-clad core. Carmy shifted in his seat; his jeans were getting tighter the longer he watched. You moaned softly as the tip of the vibrator ran over your clit. It was different in real life, Carmy noted your less exaggerated moans. He also noted the growing wet spot that was directly over your entrance. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face between the plush skin of your thighs and lap your nectar, but he wasn't confident in how to even ask… 

You noticed the trepidation in his eyes as you ran the vibrator against your thighs, causing them to tremble involuntarily. “Do you want to play?” You sweetly asked. Carmy swallowed and scooted closer to you, cautiously bringing a hand to your thigh. You allowed your leg to fall open, giving him a better view of your wet panties. “Do you want to see my pussy Carmy?” 

Unable to speak, Carmy nodded, trying to remain at least a little cool. His hand slid down your thigh, giving you goosebumps as it got closer to your panties. When he felt the heat radiating off of your core and the growing wet spot of the lacy material he thought he was going to cum in his jeans like he did the first time a girl had allowed him to do this. You lifted your hips as he pulled your panties down. “Can-can I…?” Carmy stuttered nervously, “touch me?” You clarified. Carmy nodded; you hummed. With that hum, Carmy allowed his hand to cup your core. As he brought his fingers through your lips, gathering your slick, you bucked your hips. With a sly smirk, Carmy’s middle finger found your over sensitive clit and slowly rubbed gently circles around its entirety. Although his touch was delicate, you couldn't hold back the soft whimper his fingers left you with. 

Your whimpers fueled Carmy’s need to push his fingers into your seeping hole. He curled his fingers as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of you. “Fuck I wanna make you cum…” Carmy muttered as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you. A throaty moan escaped your mouth as you felt your impending orgasm build inside of you, “Just like that…” Carmy groaned, his free hand moving to unzip his jeans. 

“Let me ride you…” you trailed off noticing Carmy’s freed erection. The men who did these encounters were never like Carmy. He was young and fit, unmarried with a long thick cock… you needed to feel him.

Carmy nodded and moved to sit back on the mattress pushing his jeans down past his hips along with his boxers. You watched his cock bob against his stomach before standing straight and ready for you. You crawled toward him and swung a leg over his hips, “Fuck…” Carmy trailed off as your hips sank against his. His hands found your hips, he held them tightly as he relished in the feeling of your wet warm pussy. As you tried to move his grip tightened, “don't move… not yet” he moaned as his head fell back.

You whined as you attempted to move against him, desperation raced through your body. This started off as a booking but had turned into something else. Fucking Carmy didn't feel like a chore you had to disassociate from, you didn't need to put on a show of over exaggerated moans or movements. It was easy.

Carmy rolled your bodies over so he was on top of you. With every powerful thrust he felt himself on the verge of releasing. “You feel so fuckin good.” Carmy groaned into the crook of your neck as his thrusts got sloppier and more desperate. You groaned as you wrapped your legs around his hips, squeezing your thighs around his hips as you melted into the mattress.

Carmy came with a heavy moan, the feeling of you pulsating around him only intensifying the pleasure he felt coursing through his veins. He rolled off of you and lay against the mattress. 

He was hooked. 

[to-thelakes]

honey kisses

content warnings; none particularly? reader is ill, mostly fluff

summary; you have a sore throat and carmy comes back from work and makes it better

pov: you're me and this is exactly what you wished had happened to you when you were waking up with a sore throat every few hours a few nights ago (aka this is very self-indulgent fluff bc i am ill and it's killing me off) (also it's not been edited)

You weren’t entirely sure what had happened. One minute, you were at work and you were fine, the next your throat was killing. You managed to find some old throat soothers at the bottom of your bag but it didn’t do much to soothe the raging pain. 

And then when your shift was over, Carmy texted saying that he might be late coming home from service tonight. You didn’t mind, texting him that you loved him and he can come over whenever he finishes. It had become routine for him to come over and you loved it. His soft touches usually woke you from your slumber but the few minutes with him made you happy so the disrupted sleep was worth it.

It was nearing midnight when Carmy came home and you had been curled up in bed for the last two hours. You had been asleep until the combination of the sudden pain in your throat and Carmy entering your apartment woke you up. You blindly searched for your water in the dark and found your bottle basically empty. A soft sigh escaped your lips which only made your throat hurt more.

You swallowed thickly but it didn’t do much and just made you cough. Your throat was simultaneously dry and sore but also sticky with phlegm so the cough was dry and chesty while also made your throat and mouth feel slimy. That made you cough harder and it drew Carmy to the bedroom, his jacket half-off as he nudged the door open.

“Hey, you ok, sweetheart?” He asked softly. You looked up at him, wide-eyed and just settling from the coughing. Your throat hurt, you grimaced, tears brimming your eyes from the pain.

“Throat hurts,” Your voice came out hoarse, raspy and odd, even to your own ears. You tried to clear your throat but it just made your throat hurt more.

“Need some water?” He asked. You nodded and grabbed your bottle and sat up to pass it over to him. He took it gently from your grip, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline before he disappeared into the kitchen. He was a man on a mission and he filled your bottle up before he grabbed honey and a teaspoon from the drawer. He came back in with supplies in hand and sat down next to you.

Without a word, you grabbed the bottle and happily sipped down half of the bottle within the span of a minute. It made your throat feel better but you still felt rough. Your throat was dry and wet at the same time. You hated the feeling of sticky phlegm that sat heavy just behind your tongue. 

The water helped but Carmy wasn’t satisfied. 

“You ok to take this?” He asked as he lifted up the honey. You stared at the honey and then him before you nodded reluctantly. 

“I don’t know what happened,” You murmured softly as you leant back against the headboard. Your whole body felt achy and tired but it had been like that for weeks so that was really nothing new. 

“Must have caught something, it’s okay,” He reassured softly as he poured the honey onto the spoon before he offered it out to you. You took the spoonful, swallowing it down but the stickiness lingered on your lips. You licked your lips - a subconscious effort to get rid of the stickiness and moisten your incredibly chapped lips - but it did very little to actually help you.

Part of you wanted to ask Carmy to kiss away the sticky honey but you also didn’t want him to get ill so you did your best to lick it or wipe it away with the back of your hand. Him kissing it away was an idea for another time.

“Was work good?” You asked curiously as you took the water bottle and gently sipped some more water. He nodded, “You smell like the kitchen,” You mumbled softly as you leant into his side. He was still in his work clothes and you could smell the menu. It wasn’t a bad thing but you knew Carmy hated when the smell lingered too much.

“Need to get a shower. Want to come with me?” He asked softly. You thought about it for a moment.

“I can sit on the toilet, don’t really wanna get wet again,” You murmured softly. He nodded.

“The steam will help the congestion,” He encouraged softly and you let out a hum of agreement. He then leant forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, the sweet taste of honey infected the kiss which made him hum happily. You pecked his lips a few more times before he reached out and gently tugged you to the bathroom so you could sit with him while he showered.

[d3add0vedonoteat]

Chicken Soup for Carmy

⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️ harsh language, sexism and violence in one scene (not from Carmy). Hurt/comfort, fluff.

A/N: I’m literally feral for this man. I’m sick atm and I started thinking about taking care of Carmy while I was making chicken soup. Bonus combo with Carmy protecting you from an asshole customer. Not proofread bc my brain is rotting. Plz be nice this is my first time posting a fic 🥺

-

It was cold. You braced yourself against the harsh Chicago wind as you made your way briskly down the street. After a late night phone call from your brother sent you into a spiral, you couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning all night until finally, at 4am, you flung off the covers and got dressed. It wasn’t a surprise that you’d come here. This place consumed all your mind and your heart since you started working here a few months ago. You used your key to unlock the door in the alley, sighing with relief as the warmth of The Beef welcomed you inside. It was quiet, the lights were down, it was peaceful. You slipped off your sneakers trading in your kitchen clogs and tucked your things safely away in your locker. You tied your handkerchief on your head as you moved. It was so comforting, the routine of The Beef’s prep work. You felt so at home, moving from the prep area to the walk in, diligently beginning the tasks that didn’t need to be started for a few more hours. He would understand. You thought to yourself as you began to prepare fresh stock for the day. He was a man after your own heart, your boss, Carmen Berzatto.

Avoidant, chaotically emotional, one wrong thing away from a complete meltdown, that you both disguised as workaholic tendencies. As you finely chopped onions, your mind quieted. Everything was shut out except for the task at hand. Your brother’s angry voice on the phone accusing you: “you never come home! You don’t even care about us! You can’t take come take care of your own mother?!” was drowned out by the rhythmic pound of your knife on the cutting board. You were in the zone.

Until a voice startled you out of your bubble. “Chef?” You jolted, looking up at the man before you. Carmy’s hair was messier than usual, the bags under his eyes were deeper and more purple. His lips were parted with each soft breath he took. He gave you a quizzical look. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh-” your mouth felt dry and you tripped over your words, as usual when he set those intense blue eyes on you. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Carmy nodded, not pushing you any further. All he said before moving toward the office was a simple: “Heard, Chef.”

You watched him go, noticing the slump of his shoulders and the labor of his normally spry step. There was no mistaking it, Carmen was sick. You stared at the office door for a long moment before you made up your mind.

You set a heavy bottomed pot on the stove with some olive oil. Your hands moved with well practiced efficiency as you chopped garlic and onions, celery and carrots. The garlic and onions went in first. Then the celery. A sprig of thyme and a dash of white wine. While that simmered you quickly seared some chicken breast and chopped it into perfectly bite sized pieces. All into the pot with chicken stock and water, tightly covered to develop the flavors. Next came the pasta. You cracked eggs into the well of flour, mixing and kneading until it became a smooth golden dough. You carefully, tenderly rolled the dough and cut it into thick, short noodles. A bath in hot water to cook, then they too joined the pot. In no time at all, you were ladling a generous portion into a bowl. You set a toasted piece of chibatta on the side, grabbed a spoon, and took a deep breath in an attempt to settle your nerves. Softly, you knocked on the office door.

“Yeah?” His voice responded.

“Chef?” You entered, nervous. Words failing you as they so often did in his presence, you set the bowl before him. Carmy’s eyes widened. The aroma made his mouth water. He looked to you, gaze softening. “You made me chicken soup?”

Your cheeks grew warm. “Y-yeah, I mean chicken soup always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

Carmy couldn’t believe you. You noticed? He smiled at you. You were so beautiful. You were always so confident and sure on the line, delegating with efficiency, respect, and authority. He had hired you the second you stepped into The Beef. Your resume was impressive but there was something in the way you carried yourself that truly earned the golden reputation you had in the culinary industry. But you were different with him, in the occasional moments like this where it was just you and him. Shy, almost bashful, gentle, and soft. He loved it. He wanted more of it. He lifted the spoon, bringing a bite to his lips.

“Gotta get a little of everything.” You muttered, eagerly awaiting his response.

Carmy shot you a sideways smile. It was good. No, it was better than good. The warm broth slid down his throat and each bite exploded with a depth of flavor he couldn’t believe. It was pure comfort. It reminded him of being a little kid staying home sick from school. Curled up on the couch while Jerry Springer played, eating crackers and ginger ale until his mom would bring a bowl of chicken noodle soup. But this soup, your soup, was more than that. People always talk about cooking with love but he swore he could taste it. Each ingredient had been so carefully handled. Perfectly chopped vegetables, moist and flavorful chicken. The warm feeling in his chest grew as he inspected the bowl.

“Did uh, did you make this pasta fresh?” He asked, eyeing you.

“Yeah, it’s better that way.” You blushed.

“Thank you, chef.” He said. “It’s really, really good.” Carmy looked down, suddenly feeling heavy. The fear of closeness set into him and all he could think about was how he’d fuck this up. “You-you didn’t have to make this for me.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” You insisted. “It was no big deal.” You began to leave, giving him one last truthful smile. “I like taking care of you.”

“I like taking care of you.” Your words rattled through Carmy’s mind all day. Throughout all of lunch, prep, and dinner he couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said. The soup you had made was the first thing he’d eaten in too long. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him and you’d just done it because you noticed he wasn’t feeling well. No motive, no games, just tender love and concern.

Love.

Carmy shook his head to try and shake the thought from his mind. No, no, no there was no way you actually cared about him. Not like that. You were just being nice.

That’s just who you are; nice. You were always so kind. The way you’d help Marcus workshop pastries, the way you’d make Tina laugh and listen to her talk about whatever trouble Louis had gotten in, how you’d encourage Sydney and remind her that she can do this. Even the way you’d throw snark right back at Richie or how’d you’d always set aside a portion of Family for Fak and Sugar, even Pete. You were always thinking of others. Carmy wasn’t special.

Yeah. Not special.

Carmy insisted the thought as he scrubbed the grill. Not special. Not special. Not special.

“Carmy?” There you were. You were always there. You had a thick denim jacket on, bag on your shoulder, knit beanie pulled down over your hair. Your brow furrowed at the sight of him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmy shook his head. “I’m fine… you uh- you heading out?”

You shrugged, hoisting your bag a little higher on your shoulder and eyeing him skeptically. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, in a bit.”

You chuckled, more exasperated than humorous. “No.”

“What?” Carmy asked, confused.

“No, you’re leaving too.” You insisted. You were feeling bold. Months of long looks and his hand on your lower back every time he passed you had culminated tonight.

You had taken over the front for Richie while he ducked out to take a call from his daughter. You’d insisted. It was slammed for dinner but everything was going fairly smooth until an irate customer approached you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He’d asked, slamming his plate onto the counter.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean are you retarded or something?” He continued. You were stunned into silence. You had never had anyone speak to you like that. “How hard is it to make a fucking sandwich? I know your tits are bigger than your brain but Jesus fucking Christ it’s not hard!”

“I-I…” you were shaking. “I’m sorry that you’re not satisfied, sir. If you like, we can-”

“Not satisfied?!” He screamed. “How can I be satisfied with this piece of shit!”

He hurled the sandwich at you. It hit you in the chest, toppings and sauce splattering everywhere. Before you even knew what was happening, a blur of messy curls shot past you. Carmy launched over the counter, tackling the man. His fist collided with the man’s face over and over while Richie and Fak rushed after him. There was a cacophony of yells as Richie pulled Carmy back. “Get your girl!” Richie yelled. “Cousin! Go get your girl!”

Fak and Richie dragged the man out and threw him into the street. Carmy’s hands grasped your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He wiped the sauce splatters from your brow. “Look at me.”

Carmy burned with anger as he watched you shake. Your white shirt and blue apron were covered in the sandwich. He imagined what you would do for him if he was in your position. How you’d care for him, how you’d tend to him… so he tried to do what you would. Gently he guided you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist. He practically carried you to his office where he sat you on the couch and quickly went to grab a clean shirt from his own locker. You were in the same place he left you when he returned. Carmy knelt before you, taking your face in his hands once more.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Tears welled in your eyes and you collapsed into his arms. He smoothed his hand over you back, repeating “it’s okay” over and over again. He felt like he was on fire. The feeling of you clinging to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, the smell of you, how you fit in his arms… it was too much. He wanted to run away and never speak to you again. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of his life. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel your lips against his. He wanted to find the piece of shit that yelled at you and rip him to pieces. He wanted your chicken soup every time he was sick.

All those feelings were closing in on Carmy once again as he stared at you across the kitchen. You still had his t shirt on. You were looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, uh… what did you say?” Carmy’s voice was softer than he expected.

“I said I’ll walk home with you.”

“Oh, no that’s okay. Ive got to-“

“Carmy,” you stepped closer. Your voice was firm but so tender. “You need to get some rest. Come on, I won’t take no for an answer.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at you. “Alright…” he conceded.

The two of you braced yourselves against the cold and hurried down the sidewalk side by side. You argued about who would walk who home. Carmy insisted on walking you to your apartment but you protested on the grounds that he’d just go back to the restaurant once he dropped you off.

“Fine,” you gave in. “But you have to call me when you get to your place so I know you made it home!”

Carmy looked at the ground, smiling. The warmth in his chest from your soup was steadily turning into a molten pool of lava.

“Heard.” He grinned. You wanted to know he’d made it home. You wanted to make sure he rested. I like taking care of you.

“Well, I’m just up here.” Your voice stopped his thoughts from spiraling before it could even start. Carmy’s brow furrowed. “What?” You asked, puzzled by his sudden change in demeanor.

“You live over there?”

“Yeah? Like a block down?”

There was a beat of silence before Carmy let out a breathy laugh. “I live right there.” He pointed to the building on the other side of the street.

“No shit!” You laughed in earnest. Your hand came to rest on his arm. “Guess I’m gonna be walking you home more often.”

Carmy’s entire body was on fire. He could imagine the tingle of your soft hand on his skin through all the layers of clothing. He wanted to hold you close again like in his office, but this time you wouldn’t be crying. A deep pit opened in his stomach. How long before he made you cry? How long before he fucked it all up? Until you hated him and quit the restaurant and everything fell apart because he-

“Hey,” your voice. Always your voice that brought him back. When he looked over at you it was like everything but your face faded into a blurry background. You were all Carmy could see. “Do you want to come to mine? I haven’t eaten and I KNOW you haven’t either.”

Carmy’s heart fluttered. “O-okay.” He started, his confidence rising when he noticed your hand was still in his arm. “Only if you let me cook you something.”

“Ooh,” you smiled. “I’d never turn that down!”

Carmy chuckled, feeling lighter for the first time in years as he walked so close beside you that your shoulders brushed. “It won’t be as good as your chicken soup.”

[emotionoitme]

under the moon

carmy berzatto x reader

final part of about a girl

masterlist

warnings: drinking & drug use (marijuana), carmy being mean, clubbing, jealousy, so much dirty talk, bdsm dom/sub undertones, oral sex (f receiving), spanking, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, choking, lots of cursing as usual

wc: 9.2k

a/n: i am so excited for you all to read this. & sorry for the slight delay, it took me a bit longer than expected to finish! thank you so so much for your continued support on this series! i genuinely never thought people would like it so much🥺 enjoy!

foster the people - under the moon

she had begrudgingly awoken the following morning, head feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton, eyes swollen and sore. the bright morning light streams through her open blinds, soaking the room in warm sun. she groans, throwing the duvet over her completely, praying her bed would open up into a sinkhole and swallow her completely. she snakes her arm out, reaching around the nightstand for her phone, pulling it back in. she had overslept about an hour, meaning she would have to heavily compromise on her morning routine and practically sprint to work if she wanted to make it on time. she considered it shortly, but ultimately pulled up her contacts app on her phone, opting to call in sick. she scrolls, the first option being carmy. she wanted so badly to hear his voice, yet her stomach drops at the thought of him, so she quickly scrolls past the contact to find sydney’s number instead. the girl hesitates for a moment, before dialing, a point of deliberation deep within her. she wanted to be as far as away from the man as she could possibly be, the thought of his mere face bringing her a feeling of anguish. on the other hand, she wanted to bear witness to his demeanor— reassure herself that he’s as affected as she is over last night’s encounter. 

he’s probably fine, she thinks to herself, lips twisted into a frown, he’s the one who didn’t want to keep it going. she tries to push the thought away, a hot pang of regret seeping through her body. she burrows deeper into the safety of her bed, tapping the icon next to syd’s contact, bringing the phone to her ear. the line rings, once, twice, three times, then a click. 

“hello?” she hears at the other end. 

“hey, syd,” she greets, groggily, “um, i'm sorry to do this to you guys, but i can’t come in today,” she explains, clarifying, “im sick, my stomach really hurts.” it was a white lie, told out of self preservation, knowing if she saw carmy’s face she surely would feel sick. she hears sydney take a breath. 

“uhh, yeah, that’s fine. we should be fine,” she assures, continuing to ask, “are you still gonna come out with us tomorrow night?” syd pushes a piece of silverware neatly into place, finishing the last table as she watches her business partner come out from the kitchen, walking towards her. 

“tomorrow night?” the girl questions, flipping her duvet off her head for oxygen. 

sydney chides her name, “tomorrow night, tina’s birthday? drinks, dancing, i’ve been telling you about it since last thursday?” glancing at her coworker, curious about who she’s talking to. sydney mouths the girl’s name to him, carmen then gesturing to ask for the phone. 

“yes, syd, thank you! i will be there. i’m sorry i’ve been so scattered this week,” she replies, sitting up out of bed. 

“you’re fine, we can unwind tomorrow,” sydney replies, mouthing “okay, okay,” to the persistently gesturing man, “here, let me put you on with carmy,” she replies, going to hand the phone to the man. 

“no!” the other line interrupts, more frantic than she meant to sound, met with silence. “i mean,” she tries to backtrack, “i don’t want him to worry about me. don’t put me on,” the girl stumbles out. 

“welll, he’s saying that he wants to talk to you… so, i don’t really have much of a choice, okay, bye!” the chipper girl quickly tells her. 

fuck, she mentally exclaims, i should’ve just gone in if i was gonna have to talk to him anyways. 

she hears her name through the line, tone questioning, as carmy takes the phone from syd. 

“hi,” she responds to his beckon, quietly. 

“you’re calling in?” he asks, holding a finger up to syd, walking towards the back office for some privacy. she tightly closes her eyes, finding her words. 

“i, uh, don’t feel good,” she responds, tone shakier than she had anticipated. the line goes silent for a minute, the girl mindlessly fiddling with a loose thread on her comforter. 

“are you avoiding me?” comes his question, catching her slightly off guard. 

“no, carmy” she quickly defends, “i don’t feel well.”

“what’s wrong?” he asks, taking a seat in his office chair. 

“my, um,” she hesitates, “my stomach hurts.” 

he’s not sure he believes her, leaning back in the chair and running a hand over his face.

“okay,” he concedes, letting out a sigh, “just, uh, take it easy today then.” he hears her hum in agreement, pausing before continuing. 

“are you going to that club tomorrow?” carmy asks her, “for tina’s birthday?” 

she dangles her legs over the edge of the bed, mindlessly kicking back and forth. 

“are you?” she asks, eager to skip out on anything besides shutting herself safely inside and maybe putting her fingers to good use to prove carmen nonessential, the memories of his touch flooding her mind incessantly. 

“i think i have to,” he responds, “i already told syd i would,” his eyes glancing back towards the open office door. she softly smiles, knowing she was in the same boat. 

“okay,” standing and walking to her closet, looking for a  club-suitable dress, “i’ll go too, then,” a small smirk in her tone. he can’t fight the smile that breaks his face, eyebrows raising slightly. 

“carmy, my phone?” he hears from the hallway, a reminder of his surroundings, his time talking with the girl running short. 

“yeah!” he yells back to the hallway, “hey, uh, feel better today, okay? i’ll see you tomorrow night,” carmy tells the girl, watching sydney walk into the office. 

“thanks, carm. bye,” she responds, the call ending shortly thereafter. she had felt slightly guilty abandoning her shift, all for the purpose of not having to be tortured with his presence, a reminder of what had transpired the previous night. their casual encounters had quickly morphed into something else within her brain, feeling a deep sense of affection towards the man, chastising herself because she had worried about this and continued anyways. 

she makes her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water over her face, the morning chill seeping through her bones. would it be so wrong for them to keep seeing each other? they were consenting adults—albeit boss and employee— both previously oblivious to the profound magnetism of their natural connection. she wanted to pursue things with him further, increasingly affected by his caring words and gestures, no longer being able to deny the twinge in her chest she gets when picturing his face. 

but she knew he didn’t want the same. 

why would he? she thought, it isn’t what he signed up for. he seemed focused on his work, like he would have limited time for a relationship.

she opted to get a few chores done around the house, taking advantage of the day off, sticking on the thought of him, though, finding herself looking through her closet for a dress with him in mind. 

—

the space is hot, crowded, alive with movement. tickets pour from the printer one by one. 

“it goes to four cousin, for the third time,” carmy scolds, “stop fucking with the tickets already,” hands busied with removing a large pot from the burner. 

“hold on, i’m fixing them,” richie argues back, clutching a mess of paper. 

carmy paces to the walk in refrigerator, grabbing a large container and making his way through the sea of bustling employees, checking on stations. he was running on fumes, only getting a solid three hours of sleep the previous night, plagued by a swarming head and uneasy stomach.

it’s best this way, he tells himself over again, easiest, hoping that if he repeats it enough times it will start to feel true. 

“alright send these out to six, please,” he hears from the front of the kitchen, glancing over at the expo, seeing the recently plated entrees. 

“fuck, richie, four!” carmen snaps, his hand flying out. 

“jesus, alright, four!” richie yells, widening his eyes, shaking his head, continuing. “calm down, carm, she’ll be back thursday,” a snicker on his face 

carmen freezes in his spot, skin beginning to burn. his eyes dart to richie, jaw twitching. 

“shut the fuck up,” he bites, venom in his tone, trying to push himself further into his work to outlet the growing frustration. he hears the other man chuckle knowingly, glancing at carmen. 

“okay, sore spot!” richie pokes, organizing the last few tickets, smile on his face. the chef doesn’t reply, beginning to quickly chop vegetables, unsure of what would slip off his tongue if he opened his mouth. 

it was unclear to him why he was unable to regulate himself when it came to someone even mentioning her, figuring it was temporary, and would slowly dissipate once they had some distance from each other. carmy deeply exhales, glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until he would be able to see her again. 

—

it was incredible how fast days would slip by when she didn’t have to go to the restaurant, taking care of domestic matters and recharging from the strenuous week so far, not thinking of carmen.

she goes to sleep that night wearing his clothes, arms wrapped around herself as if the sensation could ever come close to his touch, waking the next morning to eagerly check a phone empty of notifications. on her second day off she works on assignments for her classes, calls an old friend and grabs herself lunch from a bagel shop nearby. upon returning home she grabs a pair of earbuds and spends a few hours outside in the sunlight, mending the cracks in her heart, falling asleep on her balcony sofa and letting the sun kiss her better. the light of the afternoon seeps into the evening, painting the city in a soft yellow blanket, the girl slowly blinking awake. she watches a few cars drive by, a warm breeze shifting the trees, slowly sitting up and stretching, checking the time on her phone. she has a few hours to get ready before meeting everyone for drinks, her body relaxing at the confirmation. her eyes glance down past the time, seeing two new messages on her screen. 

carmy: 416 s clark street

carmy: do you need a ride?

she unlocks her phone, staring at the gray bubbles for what seems like an eternity, fingers hovering over the keys. she begins to type a response, “no. gonna walk,” then quickly deletes it, knowing he would insist on driving her.  

why is he trying to be so nice still?

she feels a twinge of irritation, quickly shutting off the phone, opting to not reply to his message. he was a hard man to understand, his actions contradicting his words more often than not—declaring the two finished, then continuing to pursue contact, referring to them as a “no strings” relationship and then calling her baby and sweetheart. it was confusing more than anything, beginning to take an emotional toll on the young woman. she felt incredibly tense the past few days, mind prickling with anxieties and insecurities, desperate to feel some type of release. 

fuck him, she thinks, standing and opening her sliding glass door, going inside, i’m gonna forget about it tonight. she stalks to her closet, i’m gonna find a hot stranger and just dance, pulling out a short, skin tight club dress and holding it in front of herself, facing the mirror. she wanted him out of mind completely, settling with trying to replace his touch with someone else’s tonight no matter how much her heart objected. she puts music on, setting the dress on her bed and undresses, studying herself in the mirror for a moment before making her way to the bathroom and turning on the shower. she takes a long while to let the hot water to melt onto her skin, cherishing the white silence of the shower head. the young woman takes her time getting ready, piecing herself back together with an extensive routine. once she’s in a robe with her hair wrapped up she walks to the fridge, grabbing a seltzer with alcohol to ease the slight oncoming nerves. she meticulously does her makeup and styles her hair, shamefully wondering if carmy would like how she’s dressed up, checking her phone to see it’s time to head over. dropping her robe and zipping into the dress she had picked out for the night, the girl examines her reflection, admiring the work she had put in. she looked hot, turning to the side and checking out her profile, curves accentuated by the tight fabric. satisfied, she mists herself with perfume and grabs her heels and purse, walking to the door. she swings the heavy metal barrier open to reveal a tepid july night, air thick with moisture. she balances against the frame, slipping into her heels and sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, stepping into the dusk of the evening and letting the door lock behind her. she glances at her phone for walking directions, head slightly fuzzy from the seltzer she had drank on an empty stomach. her short walk to the club garners many gawking stares from passerby’s, surprisingly not making her feel as small as they usually seem to, the goal was to catch eyes tonight, right? 

she squints, identifying bright flickering lights in the distance, the border of the club’s sign. there were a few people dispersed outside, all either smoking or talking on the phone, or both. she brushes her hair back, walking towards the entrance when she hears her name called from behind her. 

“- yo!” turning to see marcus and angel leaning against the brick wall of the establishment. she smiles, turning and walking towards them, the distinct odor of marijuana arising from the cigarette marcus clutched in between his thumb and pointer. 

“hi,” she grins, tilling her head slightly. 

“hey,” the two respond, almost in synchronicity. marcus holds the rolled paper to her, “want some?” 

she smiles, plucking it from his fingertips and bringing it to her lips, deeply inhaling to soften the inevitable drop her stomach would endure at the sight of carmen. the ember burns quickly, and she’s surprised at the harshness. 

she hands it back with a slow exhale, thanking marcus. 

“nervous?” angel chimes in, trying to hide a smile. the girl pauses for a moment, is it so obvious? 

“i haven’t been to a club in a while,” she responds, crossing her arms. it was partially true, but she knew the real reason for the relentless fluttering in her chest. 

the man stubs the filter onto a nearby trash can, dusting his hands off on his pants. “you guys ready to go in?”

the other man affirms, pushing himself off the wall and turning to walk to the front. the girl stays behind, hesitating. 

“you two go ahead. i’m gonna air out,” she responds, leaning back, basking in the slight breeze. the men both crack a smile before walking together to the entrance, leaving the girl in her solitude. she closes her eyes for a moment, deeply inhaling the night air, listening to the reverberation of bass through the walls of the club. she feels a cloud of haze overwhelm her, the mixture of substances seeping through her in a warm glow. she hears footsteps approach. 

“hey.”

her eyes snap open, breath escaping her at the sight of carmy. he looked polished, buttoned up into a dress shirt, hair fluffy and face cleanly shaved. she nearly salivated at his presentation, the buzz she felt complicating her decision to ignore him. 

“hi,” she shortly responds, lip slightly pouted, watching as his eyes examine her, floating down her form. he snaps his eyes away, clearing his throat. 

“you, uh, get my text?” 

she nods, looking up to him, meeting his eyes with unwavering contact. he walks closer to the girl, slightly shaking his head and furrowing his brow in confusion, an unspoken gesture to elaborate. 

she looks away, arms wrapping around herself. 

“i didn’t need a ride,” she answers, “i walked.” 

carmen’s jaw visibly tightens, feeling a twinge of irritation. 

“yeah. uh, i asked because i didn’t want you walking here alone,” he explains in a slightly frustrated tone. 

“yeah, well i made it,” she retorts, aggravation bubbling beneath the surface, “so you don’t need to worry about it.” 

she didn’t know why he was getting under her skin so easily tonight, her throat suddenly feeling hot and tight, raking her eyes over the top of his chest exposed by an open button.

“well i do,” the man argues, “i don’t want you walking by yourself. anywhere,” he solidifies in a stern tone. the girl lets out a scoff. 

“you’re acting like you’re my boyfriend,” she spits, fed up with the sense of entitlement he felt over her. 

“i’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend,” he quickly asserts, tone ringing out much harsher than he intended. 

she knows this to be a fact, but still can’t help the drop she feels in her chest when he says it aloud like that. she opens her mouth to say something, then quickly closes it, biting her lip, eyes darting to the ground. he instantly regrets saying it, brushing his fingers through his hair, grabbing it, studying the girl’s dejection with a pit in his stomach. 

“whatever, carmen,” she dismisses, shoving past him. her lungs felt tight, eyes burned, mentally cursing herself, rushing to the club entrance to distance herself from the man. she shoves the door open, immediately being engulfed by sound and swarming bodies. she blinks back a few tears, deeply inhaling and exhaling, zoning into the environment. spotting the group of her coworkers at a corner table, she shufflles through the crowd to approach them. syd immediately spots the girl, calling out to her and waving. she plasters on a smile as the rest turn to watch her, all unanimously greeting the new arrival. she makes her way over to tina, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek, wishing her happy birthday. she squeezes into her seat in between sydney and richie, turning to the tall man to ask, “so where’s my drink?”

richie lets out a boisterous laugh, throwing an arm around the girl.

“i don’t think you’re gonna have much of a problem getting drinks tonight, sweetheart,” he teases, as carmy approaches the table, receiving welcomes and pulling out a chair to sit. she flickers her eyes over to carmen to find he’s staring at her, quickly tearing them back away and leaning over to syd. 

“come get a drink with me. i really need it,” she pleads, placing her hand on sydney’s forearm. the other girl agrees, the two sliding out from under the table and making their way to the bar, arms linked. 

—

why did i say that? 

he watches her rush to the front entrance, his body frozen, processing the conversation. 

why did i say that?

he begins to go after her, reaching his arm out before she swiftly maneuvers the door open, slipping inside. 

why the fuck did i say that?

it wasn’t completely untrue— he wasn’t her boyfriend— something he had failed to make entirely made clear before that point. he wasn’t oblivious to the way they had grown closer, either, the thought of her nestled deeply within a sweet spot in his heart. yet he had done nothing to prevent it from happening, and once thinking of it, he finds he’s only ever done the opposite, his behavior towards the girl falling far closer to a boyfriend than a hookup. he begins following in her footsteps, opening the club door and immediately becoming overwhelmed with the number of people crowding the floor. carmy cranes his neck, watching her figure weave through the crowd and towards a corner table. he pushes through the wall of people, seeing her take her seat, approaching the table to receive greetings from his coworkers. his eyes are trained on her, wrapped into richie’s arm, smiling until she locks eyes with him. then it drops, slightly. it makes him feel sick. he turns to fak at his right and engages in conversation as he watches her rise from the table alongside sydney. she looks like a model of some type, he thinks, with dark makeup defining her striking eyes and hair tousled over her shoulder, tight black dress riding up over the skin of her thighs. he trails down her face to her neck. when she moves her hair behind her ear he can see a small purple mark left from his teeth, eyes fully fixated on the spot. the bass of the music thumps, reverberating through the club, floorboards shaking. he tries to keep up in the table’s conversation whilst simultaneously keeping a close eye on the girl, shifting to see her order at the bar through the moving bodies. she throws a shot back, grimacing at the taste, laughing while saying something to syd (he was never very good at reading lips) and raising her hand to flag the bartender once more. the table bursts into laughter, carmen’s eyes drawing back to his coworkers, watching as tina shoves richie’s hand with a smile on her face, rolling her eyes. he feels an inclination to step outside for a smoke, head buzzing with stimulation from the lively environment, wondering how long he should stay before it would be acceptable to leave. 

“oh my gosh, thank you baby,” he hears tina say, glancing over to see the girl having returned from the bar, placing a fruity drink in front of the woman. 

she smiles, returning to her seat as the current song ends, fading into the next. sydney and the girl gasp in tandem at the distinctive opening, locking eyes with each other and grinning. 

“we’re gonna go dance!” the girl excitedly calls, taking syd by the hand and navigating towards the dance floor, crowded with moving bodies. it’s hot, but fluid, the two girls beginning to move together, grinning. carmen watches her, eyes cutting through the crowd. she moves her hips, bringing her hands up her body, flashing lights illuminating her in colors. the sight was hypnotic almost, eyes trained on her, tense in his seat. she throws her hair back, circling her body, closing her eyes. 

richie leans over to him, “you, uh, sure she did just bartending over at ricky’s?” elbowing him slightly. 

carmen doesn’t respond, eyes fixated on her gyrating movements, jaw tensing, painfully aware of all the eyes she’s gathered around the club. she continues dancing after the first two songs, even when sydney makes her way back to the table in need of rest. carmy tried to not make it so obvious he was watching the girl, grateful some of his other coworkers had joined the crowd on the dancefloor, completely entranced by her movement. he tears his gaze away, standing up find the bar, eager to ease the incredible tension he felt pent up within him. she seemed to be having fun dancing, and in a way it felt refreshing to watch the girl so loose and carefree. carmy couldn’t help the sense of possessiveness he felt, though, watching her move like that, seeing the way other men looked at her, like meat. it made him sick. 

he orders a beer once the bartender makes their way over, song fading into the next. he turns to lean against the counter, eyes searching for her as he brings the bottle to his lips with a long swig. he feels a pang in his chest, as he finds her, hand on another man’s arm, leaning to whisper something in his ear. he closely watches as the man smiles, nods, placing his hands on her hips and getting closer to her. carmen’s skin immediately becomes hot, teeth clenching, taking a deep breath through his nose to try and calm himself. 

what the fuck is she doing? 

his eyebrows furrow, watching as she dances, bringing her arms up, turning, moving against the stranger. he feels physically sick, stomach churning at the way this man was touching her navel, hips, pressing himself to the back of her. carmy tightly grips the bottle, unable to rip his eyes away, the girl glistening in the light. she throws her head back against the man’s shoulder, hair draping over him, grinding to the music. her eyes find carmen’s quickly, intentionally locking gazes as she brings the strangers hands higher, up her waist, ribs, her mouth falling opening. carmen stands, knocking the barstool off balance with the force of his movement, shoving through the crowd, disregarding the dirty looks, quickly making his way to the dance floor. he grabs the girl’s wrist, pulling her from the stranger’s grasp, tightly gripping her as he walks towards the back door, dragging her behind him, feeling the struggle of her arm as she tries to pull away. he turns, putting a hand on her lower back, ushering her through the club, shoving the heavy metal door open and bringing her outside, finally letting go when the two are far from the door. he brings a hand to his hair, grabbing, turning to face the girl. 

“what the fuck, carmen?” she yells, ripping her hand away from him, “what’s your issue?” her words slightly under-enunciated. 

he bites down on his lip, meeting her eyes, hand coming to his hip. he hardly had an explanation for the girl, driven by a redhot primal jealousy, blood boiling at the sight of someone else’s hands on her, grabbing, feeling her like that. 

“what’s my issue?” he scoffs, “why the fuck were you dancing like that?” his face reddening, pulse quickening. she lets out a laugh, leaning back against the wall, gazing up at him. 

“why?” she asks, “are you jealous?” 

he shakes his head, unconsciously stepping closer to her.

“i’m not jealous,” he argues, jaw set firmly, eyes casting down onto her. 

“yeah?” she leans forward, further closing the distance between them. he nods, fixated on the droop of her eyes, the part of her lips, the way she looked up at him through her dark lashes. 

“so what if i fuck him?” she asks softly, a smirk playing on her lips, “will you be jealous then?” 

he lets out a breath, fire growing at her words.

he shakes his head, “you’re not gonna fuck him,” asserting with confidence. she tilts her head, alcohol emboldening her. 

“how do you know?” she challenges, well aware of how affected she was by his tone, his demeanor, the look in his eyes. carmy gets closer to her face. 

“because he’s not gonna fuck you like i do,” his voice deep, low, eyes boring into hers with an intensity that lights her core ablaze. the girl finds her breath hitches, mouth going dry, gaze flickering to his lips. he rests his hand on the brick behind her, leaning closer, “hear all those pretty sounds you make.” 

she shuts her eyes tightly, trying to shake her senses of the overwhelming lust she felt. she was supposed to stay angry at him, he was being an asshole. maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs, or the way he towered over her, but she felt no anger, only replaced by want, a slick ache growing at the way he seems to claim her for himself. she takes a deep breath, body feeling as if it were buzzing, head cloudy. 

“you are so fucking confusing,” she whispers, bringing her forehead to lightly touch his. he rests his hand on her lower back, relishing in the warmth of the contact, breathing in her scent. she was completely right about him, he thinks, never saying what he really means to her. if he could have what he really wanted, she would be his, only his. a girlfriend. 

“yeah,” he takes a shaky breath, “yeah. i know,” reply coming, hesitantly. “i’m sorry, -” he breathes out, her name sounding sweet on his tongue. she blinks away the tears that want to form, grabbing the fabric of his shirt, a small tremble of the lip. she opens her mouth to say something, eyes tearfully meeting his. 

the metal door creeks open, momentarily releasing the booming music out into the alleyway, breaking the trance as a few smokers congregate by the back. the girl changes her mind, mouth shutting. she releases his shirt, pulling away, stepping around the man and smoothing her appearance, pads of her fingers coming to dry a few escaped tears. he watches her try and compose herself, shivering in her small dress. his heart clenches, feeling the overwhelming need to take care of her— wrap his arm around her, lead her back to his home, dress her in more of his clothes and watch her fall asleep. he shrugs off his light jacket, walking over to her and draping it over her shoulders without saying anything. she glances up at the man, engulfed by his warmth and the smell of him, ache in her chest. 

“i’m gonna go home,” she whispers, swaying slightly. 

“let me walk you,” he offers, hand coming to her upper back. she quickly shakes her head, taking a step away from him. 

he sighs at her stubbornness, says her name. 

“you’re drunk,” he observes, “let me make sure you get there okay.” 

she hiccups, crossing her arms. 

“ ‘m not drunk,” she slurs unconvincingly. he nods, letting out a breath, hand coming to rub his face. 

“okay,” he concedes, “then, just… go back in with me for a sec. say bye to everyone.” 

she meets his eyes, consideration running over her features, then nodding slowly. he puts his hand on the small of her back, steadying her as they walk back towards the large metal door. there’s a noticeable change in temperature difference as the two enter the club again, weaving through a sea of moving bodies, carmy holding tightly onto her, ushering her forward towards the corner table. he doesn’t miss the glances from his workers at the sight of the girl wearing his jacket, a few smiles cracked, looks exchanged. he ignores it, picks his beer back up as the girl excuses herself from the event, claiming to not feel good and chalking it up to drinking too much when she usually doesn’t partake. richie, surprisingly, says nothing, eyes trained on carmen, smirk plastered over his face. 

“i’m gonna head out too,” carmy announces, “take her home.” 

richie begins loudly laughing, clapping his hands together. 

“jesus christ, i am right about everything!” he shouts, slamming his glass down onto the table. carmen’s skin begins to prickle with embarrassment. 

“hey richie,” he chimes, “shut the fuck up.” he felt unbearably tense tonight between the day’s grueling shift, the girl dancing on another man, the newfound teasing, as if he were about to implode. he was in desperate need of some sort of release. carmy watches her, tightly clad fabric stretching over her ass as she leans down to give tina a hug. he felt guilty, almost, the way he had been shamelessly gawking at her throughout the night, the act doing nothing but intensify the burning he felt bottled up within him. 

“i’m sorry i’m leaving so early, t,” he hears from her mouth, “i don’t feel very well.” 

the older woman brushes the apology away, placing a kiss on the girl’s cheek. 

“feel better, baby,” she coos, looking to carmen, “jeff, you make sure she gets into bed okay,” the command motherly in tone. he nods, coming to give tina a side hug, “ ‘night, t. happy birthday.”

—

the sidewalk pavement was in dire need of repair, cracks and bumps literally the surface, worsening the walk for people who weren’t drunk. she stumbles over a divot, instinctively grabbing onto carmy’s arm for balance, heels catching on every small crevice. she lets out a cry of frustration, stopping in her tracks. 

“this is impossible,” she exclaims, reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel, “why don’t they fix this stupid street?” 

he can’t help the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards. she was cute, even in her frustration. he crouched, slightly, leaning over, arms out. 

“c’mere,” he tells her, “jump up.” 

she falters, trying to retain independence in her drunken stubbornness, but ultimately accepts, the other option being continually tripping over herself for another mile. she puts her hands up on his shoulders, using him as leverage to boost herself up, his arms coming to wrap around the backs of her thighs. he hears her squeal, slightly, feeling as she pulls the short dress down to cover the curve of her ass. the man grits his teeth, shaking the mental image of it as he tightly grips the supple skin of her upper thighs. she’s easy to carry, surprisingly so, as he continues walking in the direction of her apartment building. a silence settles between the two of them, breaths falling in line with the gentle rhythm of his steps. she wraps her arms around him further, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, exhale tickling his neck. he clears his throat, glancing back at the girl, seeing her closed eyes. 

“i, uh,” he hesitates, gathering his thoughts, “i fuckin’ hated seeing that guy touch you,” the confession slipping off of his tongue. he feels her smile slightly against his neck. 

“i knew you would,” her reply comes softly. he lets out a small scoff, humored by what she admits. 

“you’re a brat,” he asserts lowly, pressing his fingers into her skin. she splays her arms out, pushing her chest against his back, hand coming to rest on his bare collarbones. 

“you were being a dick,” her words ringing truthfully, resounding throughout the man, feeling a pang of guilt. 

“yeah. i know,” he agrees, eyes fixed forward, “i’m sorry.” carmen lets a cloud of silence engulf the two before vocalizing again. 

“you know, i… really do wanna be with you,” he admits gently, soul bared. she pauses, soaking in his words, feeling almost as if a puzzle piece had been pushed into place. 

“why not?” her question comes soft, sweet. he lets out a deep breath. 

“you know why,” he quietly replies, the street lamps casting their two shadows as one. she does know why, aware of the sly glances the two received, apparent judgment surrounding a relationship with the power imbalance of theirs. 

“well, i quit then,” she pouts, lips brushing against his skin, erupting him in goosebumps. he shakes his head. 

“you can’t,” comes his rejection, “we need you,” expressing the fact with utmost sincerity. she hugs her arms around him tighter, smelling his cologne, his soap, a faint trace of cigarette smoke. 

“i don’t care,” she protests in all of her stubborn glory, “i wanna be yours, carm.” 

he feels himself surrender at her words, pulling her even closer. 

“you’re mine,” he assures her, glancing back to meet her eyes, nodding, feeling warmth as if a bright light glowed from his chest. they can figure out the details later— he genuinely didn’t want her to quit, trying to remind himself it was the only way their relationship would be ethical. the man slows in pace as they approach the front of her building, letting the girl hop down, holding his hand out to steady her once her feet make contact with the ground. she gives a small smile, intertwining her arm with his, hand coming to rest on the mass of muscle as the two make their way to her building. she clutches onto him in her inebriated state as they scale the tall stairs leading up to her door. she fumbles with her keys, eventually unlocking the deadbolt and pushing the door open. she turns to face him, giving him sort of a puppy dog look, hoping he’ll want to follow her in. a smile breaks his face, studying her expression. 

“i, uh, gotta make sure you get in bed okay,” he reminds her, gesturing inside. she grins, taking his hand, pulling him inside and shutting the door. the space was illuminated with strung lights, warm in hue, mystifying the room. he takes a deep breath, wrapped in her intoxicating scent, eyes scanning the room. he primarily notices how pristine it is, cozy, fragments of her soul framed over the walls and resting on shelves. it felt like a home, more than his ever has. she sets her keys and purse on a side table, kicking off her heels and sighing in relief, trudging to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses of water. when she hands it to him he can’t help but stare, focusing on her face, the ache for her insurmountable to anything he’s ever wanted before. he sets the glass down, hand coming to her lower back, deeply looking into her, past her beauty and towards her essence. he watches as her eyes flicker down to his lips, quickly coming back to meet his gaze. he’s in awe of her, almost, bringing both hands to the small of her back, squeezing her slightly, pulling her to him with ease. she lets out a breath at the action, hand coming to his forearm, feeling the flex of his tendons. he wants her all to himself, he thinks, leaning in towards her, raising his hand to cup the side of her face. she leans into the touch, turning, pressing a kiss to the base of his thumb, bringing her other hand to rest on his, biting the skin. he grasps her face at this, shoving his thumb into her mouth. 

“suck,” he commands, voice low, watching in anticipation as she brings her lips around the digit, tongue circling eagerly, trying to take more of it into her mouth. he nearly falls apart at the sight, twitching, pulling her flush against him, dragging his thumb out of her mouth and over her bottom lip. he drops his hand to touch her neck, watching her lips, hearing his heart pound in his ears. she brings her grip to clutch onto his shirt, heavily breathing. he cherishes her expression, cheeks flushed and lips parted, glistening. carmen tightens his hand around her throat very slightly, leaning in to taste her, his lips gently pressing against hers, hearing her moan at the unexpected contact. she’s sweet, soft, eager, the slightest trace of alcohol on her lips. he hadn't realized how much he had been craving her taste until it graced his tongue, feeling almost as if a tension in him had alleviated. he wants more, tattooed fingers wrapping around her neck, pulling her into him, deepening the kiss. she melts into him, trying to keep up with the ferocity of his kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth. he groans, bringing his hand from her back to the curve of her ass, feeling, squeezing, pulling her in. he takes his hand off her throat, her leg slightly lifts, and he takes the opportunity to hoist it up over his hip, turning and pressing her into the counter, weight of his body against hers. it feels as if something had snapped within him, wanting to claim her all to himself, grabbing whatever he can of her, getting as close as possible, lips, tongues dancing in tandem. he presses a few slow kisses to her mouth, pulling away, forehead coming against hers, eyes shut. he listens to the sound of their breath, hand on her ass, fingers teasing the hem of her panties. she arches into his touch, body tingling, hot with desire. his hand comes up, then flies back down to smack her ass, the girl takes a sharp breath, firmly gripping it again after the impact. 

“fuck,” she breathes, a hot swell in her lower stomach. he creeps his hand up the skin of her thigh, slipping under her dress, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs. her face grows hot at the way he takes command, shoving at the fabric until it slides down her calves and hits the floor. she steps out of them, breath shaky, drenched in anticipation, insides of her thighs growing wet. carmy gives her a final kiss before dropping to his knees in front of her, placing a few gentle kisses around her skin. she instinctively clamps her thighs at the sensation, the man bringing his hand to shove her leg to the side, exposing her glistening heat. he lets out a soft moan at the sight, closer than he’s ever been to her core, leaning forward to softly kiss her clit. the girl lets out a cry of surprise, hand flying to his head, the simple act sending a shock throughout her body. he brings his thumb and pointer finger to part her both of her lips, taking her image in, salivating slightly in anticipation. he casts his eyes up towards her face, flushed, mouth open. he leans forward, licking a long stripe up her wetness to her clit, swirling his tongue around the bud, pulling away. she pants, fingers tangled in his hair, arching towards him, wordlessly asking for more. he groans at the taste of her, a rush to his head, his cock, immediately diving in for more, lapping at her as if she’s the finest thing he’s had in his mouth. her knees begin to go weak, trembling slightly, trying to hold onto him for support. 

“carmy,” she whimpers, “i can’t stand.” 

this breaks his focus, bringing his eyes up to her with a glint. 

“yeah?” he asks, “feel too good, baby?” a smirk growing on his face. she refuses to respond, tightly shutting her eyes and throwing her head back when he brings his thumb to slowly circle her clit, watching, gauging her reaction. he pulls his hand away, placing a small smack on the inside of her thigh, the girl gasping. 

“answer me” he growls, breath tickling her mound, leaning to press a few more kisses to her swollen heat. she lets out a whine, grabbing his hair. 

“it feels- fuck it feels so good carm,” she shakily admits, knees nearly buckling. satisfied with her answer he brings both hands to the base of her ass, lifting her with ease and setting her on the countertop. she hastily grabs his shirt and pulls him in, locking lips and tasting herself on his tongue, letting a sweet sound into his mouth. he breaks away, desperate to feel her wetness on his mouth again. he kisses the inside of her thigh, then leans in, flattening his tongue against her clit, gently lapping, a finger coming to tease her pooling entrance. she unintentionally bucks her hips at the sensation, prompting carmen to bring the length of his forearm to her inner thigh, shoving it open, holding her down. she brings her eyes to his tattooed arm splaying her open, heart pounding, trying to straighten herself, awaiting his touch. he continues his gentle licks, circling his finger around her wetness, then pushing the digit into her slowly, eyes darting up to watch her mouth fall open. he swirls his tongue around her engorged clit, then gently sucks, curling his finger deeply inside of her, beginning to establish a rhythmic motion. her pants turn to cries, pulling the man in by his curls. his hand grips the skin of her thigh, spreading her open, devouring her, pushing a second finger into her. her teeth clamp down onto her lip at the sensation, gripping around his digits, trying hard to keep her composure in front of the man. carmy, aware of this, increases the pace of his movement, pulling his mouth away from her, beginning to tease her clit with a feather-like touch of his tongue. her head falls back, smacking against the cabinet, a loud moan slipping through her lips. 

“please,” she pleads, not sure for what, arching into carmen’s motion, hands grabbing whatever she can of him, the knot inside her stomach growing impossibly tight. he wants to feel her cum— clench around his fingers, see how long he can keep fucking into her until it’s too much— but he refrains, pulling his fingers out, soaked with her juices, standing up. her head jerks up to meet his eyes, panting, flushed, frustrated. 

“whyy?” she whines, trying to pull the man back to her. he lets out a scoff, smirk creeping at the edges of his lips, hands on the tops her thighs, gripping. 

“you think i’m gonna let you cum?” he asks, voice low, coming close to her face, “after that shit you pulled in the club?” 

her lip pouts, face heating at his words, held down by his weight, trying to catch her breath. the girl opens her mouth to argue back, but decides against it, just wanting to feel him— leaning forward to kiss him softly, hungrily, hands coming to feel the muscles of his chest. he melts into the kiss, hands wrapping around her back. 

“you don’t care, huh?” carmy teases between kisses, “just want me to keep touchin’ you,” pressing himself between her thighs, deepening their contact. she nods into the kiss, greedily reaching her hands down to pull his shirt up. he pulls away from her, taking it off completely, groaning as the girl runs her hands up his bare abdomen, then gently rakes her nails down, admiring the way his muscles flex under her touch. he grows a bit impatient, decides to pick her up, her legs coming to wrap around his back, carrying her to the bedroom. she grins at the way he holds her, hands gripping both of her ass cheeks, leaning down to kiss his neck in the short walk. when he drops her onto the plush duvet of her bed he leans over her, fingers grasping the side zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down to reveal the skin of her ribcage, waist, stopping right above her hip. they lock eyes and he searches her face for any signs of hesitation, finding only blown pupils and flushed cheeks. he grabs the hem of the dress, slowly pulling it down her body to expose her breasts, waist, stomach, pelvis, letting the fabric fall over her ankles to the floor. his eyes drink her in, sparks firing in his brain, bringing his hands to grasp her waist, thumbs resting over her stomach. carmy leans in, deeply kissing her, savoring her warmth, then rises, unbuckling his belt. she props herself up onto her elbows, watching the man slowly unbutton his pants, pull the zipper down. she lets out a heavy breath at the sight of the large bulge behind his briefs, straining against the cotton, curved upwards to the right. she sits up, inching towards the edge of the bed, seated in front of the man, gazing up at him in adoration. 

“can i take these off?” she asks softly, fingers coming to hook into his briefs, pulling them slightly to reveal the deep v-line in his hips, light brown hair leading down to his covered pubic bone. her mouth was almost watering, looking up at him in anticipation. he grins at her eagerness, raising his eyebrows slightly, nodding his head, giving her permission to slip the waistband down over his hips, cock slapping against his stomach when she does so. she immediately grabs the length of his dick, heavy in her hand, giving it a few slow strokes, watching as he closes his eyes, breathing out heavily. her head feels fuzzy, wanting nothing more than for him to shove her back onto the bed and fill her completely, continuing to marvel at his thickness. he brings his hand to stroke the side of her face, fingers coming over her ear and threading through her hair, watching intently as she slowly jerks him off. she clenches her thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the growing ache, running out of patience. 

“carm,” she whines, gripping his cock, gazing up at him, handsome face framed by a few messy curls, “i want it already.” 

he lets a small smirk grace his face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. 

“yeah?” he asks, watching the girl quickly nod, bringing his face closer to his, lowering his voice, “you know i’m gonna fuckin’ wreck you tonight, right?” 

she heats at his words, eyes widening, an expectant shiver making it’s way through her body and settling throughout her core. he doesn’t let her respond, grabbing her thighs and pulling her, back coming to the mattress, pelvis flush with his. he bends her legs into her chest, leaning over her, the tip of his cock briefly gracing her wetness before he brings his hand down to grip himself, running the tip through her slick folds, sliding up to nudge her clit. she tightly shuts her eyes, lets out a quiet moan at the sensation— almost enough to satisfy, but not quite. he continues thrusting through her folds, listening to the wet sounds, coating himself in her juices. she tries to resist the urge but she can’t, reaching down, grabbing his cock and sticking it inside of her, legs coming to wrap around his back to pull him in. 

“fuckk,” he exclaims loudly, not expecting her desperation, suddenly engulfed in her warmth. he groans, trying to compose himself, bringing his hand to her throat, leaning in, pushing his hips forward to the hilt. she whimpers, cherishing the slight burn of fullness as he tightens his grip around her throat. 

“this what you wanted?” he asks, voice gruff, fully draped over her, nuzzling a kiss under her ear. the way he speaks to her ignites a flame, emboldening her slightly. her eyes gleam. 

“no,” she breathes, “i want you to fuckin’ move,” words laced with a tone. he lets out a short laugh, straightening, grabbing both her calves and propping them up over his shoulders, drawing out of her and then quickly snapping his hips forward. she gasps, hand flying up to her mouth. she feels the ridge of his head drag against her walls as he graciously begins to thrust into her, hands wrapped around her legs, eyes coming to watch her breasts bounce in time with his rhythm. her hand falls away from her mouth, a loud cry pouring from her lips. carmen revels in the sound as he continuously drives his hips forward, skin slapping against hers, gripping her left calf, turning to press a kiss into her ankle. his pace begins to satiate the relentless burn within her core, trying to take his length as deeply as possible.

“so good,” she whimpers, bringing her hands to her breasts, squeezing. carmy groans, slapping her outer thigh. 

“where’d that attitude go?” he asks, pelvis flush against her, pulling closer, “huh?” 

her brows furrow, opening her mouth to argue but falling short, a breathy moan replacing her words at the sensation of him deeply fucking into her. her body feels incredibly hot, nipples perked beneath her fingers, feeling herself approaching an edge. he grins, moving his hand to grip at her thigh, eyes scanning over the sight in front of him. 

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he tells her, hips stuttering, trying to push away his quickly approaching orgasm. he pulls out of her, the girl’s eyes shooting open to object. carmy takes hold of her forearms, pulling her to stand, grabbing her hips and turning her around, pushing her forward. her knee comes to the bed, balanced on her other leg as he wraps his arm around her waist, hand on her ribcage and inserts himself back into her tightness. 

“yes,” she cries, arching back against him and bringing her hand onto his arm, feeling the head of his cock thrust deeply upwards. the tingling in her core grows stronger; her head falls back onto his shoulder. carmen grunts, his free hand coming to find her clit, rubbing small, soft circles, feeling himself unravel at the intense pulse of her walls. he kisses her cheek, relentlessly pounding into her, the crescendo of her moans driving him higher and higher. his lips come right next to her ear, breath ragged. 

“you my girl?” he asks, another kiss on the side of her face, bringing his hand from her ribs to her breast, gently squeezing. 

she nods quickly, arm coming behind her to grab his hip, feeling him, tangible beneath her fingers. 

“all yours,” she pants, “i’m all yours, carm.” 

he groans at the sentiment, bottoming out inside of her, quickly circling her clit as her arousal grows slick on his fingers. she feels herself tumbling towards her edge, trying to physically hold onto him so as to not climax, fingers gripping into his skin. 

“i’m-,” a cry falls from her mouth. he pulls the two even closer, wetness pouring from her at the continual thrusts, feeling the cues of her body approaching climax.

“let it go, baby,” he coos, lips pressed against her ear. with his simple command she feels an intense heat envelop her body, orgasm crashing against her like a wave. she goes limp in his arms so he grabs her tighter, bending her over the bed. her thighs begin to shake as carmen relentlessly snaps his hips, watching her intently, feeling a white hot pleasure seep through him. he’s ferociously grabbing at her, pulling her in as he approaches his edge, stutter of his hips as he bottoms out and releases himself into her with a loud groan. she feels the pressure of his cum against her walls, intense heat diffusing as she rides out the shocks of her orgasm. he collapses over her, hand coming to the bed, trying not to put his full weight upon her. their labored breaths harmonize, hearts pounding. carmy runs a hand over her lower back, soothingly rubbing the limp girl. he pushes himself up, straining to grab a tissue off her nightstand to clean with, the act of pulling out of her releasing a constant pressure, the girl whimpering. he soaks up the mess of cum dripping down her legs, drinking in the sight, then rises to throw the tissues away. she’s able to muster the energy to push herself up and stumble behind him, walking into the bathroom to turn on the shower, steadying her shaky legs by holding onto the wall. she turns to see the man, naked in all his glory, approach her, placing his hands on her hips and leaning in to kiss her deeply. she seeps into his touch, hand coming to graze his lower stomach, exhaling slowly. he lets a peace wash over the two before speaking. 

“so, uh, i’ll take this as your two weeks notice, then?” he teases, hand falling to her low back. she tilts her head to the side. 

“what? you mean i don’t get a promotion after that?” she asks, smiling, trying to feign disappointment, “fuck.”

he grins, adoringly gazing down at the young woman, bathing in the light of her smile. 

he knew it was never supposed to go so far. it was never supposed to end up in this position, with her leaning in for another kiss, him greedily accepting. she was his completely now, the man making a vow to never let anything or anyone hurt her, cherishing the feeling of her warmth under his fingertips. 

it was never supposed to go so far, but it did. and he was so fucking glad it did. 

—

eeeek i hope you liked it!! i genuinely enjoyed writing this story so much. an epilogue to wrap up some loose ends is possible in the future- in the meantime i'll be posting some steamy carmy headcannons.

please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! thank you SO MUCH to everyone for the continued support on this series <3

[aliensupastar]

i wouldn’t ask you

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You try to break your promise. Carmy won’t let you. Follow-up to “shouldn’t feel like a crime”

Part I Part II

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, depiction of an eating disorder, food issues, heart-to hearts, arguments, swearing

A/N: once again, thank y'all so much for the love on parts one and two of this fic, it brings me so much joy!! also, im terribly sorry for how long it took to write this. school happened and i think it got away from me a little bit, i did a lot of rewrites, and it's shorter than i'd like it to be but it’s something i’m finally satisfied with, and i hope you guys enjoy it! to anyone who’s sent me asks, left comments or replies telling me they connected with this fic, i hope it continues to bring you comfort as it has for me. i can’t express to you enough how much all your responses have meant to me. this will be the last part for this lil series, but im grateful to anyone who’s read n supported it. title insp by "i wouldn’t ask you" by clairo, gif by riickgrimes <3

Logically, you know that healing — if that’s what you could call what you were trying to do — isn’t linear. You’ve heard it a thousand times, and on some level, you know it’s true. Knowing it doesn’t stop the shame you feel when you start skipping the train, opting instead to walk, or on shittier days, run to work. 

At first you thought you’d been able to escape the anxiety that came with eating anything you didn’t know the exact calorie count of, that you’d been able to eat Carmy’s spaghetti without complication. In retrospect, it had merely been delayed, the calm and warmth afforded to you by Carmy’s presence wearing off as soon as you’d gotten into bed that night; you’d laid awake for another hour, paralyzed by your own panic. 

The only solution you found fit was to force yourself into physical activity, making your travel to and from work ten times more miserable, waking up an hour and a half earlier than usual just to get to the restaurant on time and still have ten minutes to freshen up and change into your uniform. You at least managed to make the change in your routine go unnoticed, still looking presentable once it was time to open for service, or at least you thought so. 

“Did you run here?” Sydney asks one morning, spotting you right as you clocked in and rushed to your locker to pull out your uniform. 

“Uh, yeah, I did.” You’re a little too breathless to come up with an excuse, to properly deflect her concern and surprise. 

“Okay…” She watches as you shove your other belongings into the locker space haphazardly. “Does that, like, happen often, or-“

“No,” You say, too quickly, shaking your head. “Just, uh, don’t tell Carmy?” 

You look up at her, eyes pleading, hoping she accepts this one request without question, hoping she can disregard something just this one time. 

“Tell Carmy what?” Hearing your boss’s voice makes you jump in shock, as he comes around the corner and spots you, hair messy and sweat still dripping down your temple. 

Your skill for being unnoticeable is escaping you, that much is clear. You’re essentially caught red-handed, a deer in headlights, eyes bouncing between Sydney and Carmy as you struggle to come up with something, anything to respond with. But Sydney swoops in just seconds after you freeze, granting you mercy, this one time. 

“Tell you to mind your own business, chef,” She says, her tone light-hearted so that you know to force out a laugh, and Carmy takes it. He gives a half-smile and shakes his head, heading over to his prep station and as soon as he’s out of sight, you look back at Sydney. 

“Thank you,” You whisper as you head for the bathroom, uniform in hand, and she nods, still looking concerned but thankfully, dropping it. 

Carmy’s the one who won’t drop it. It stays on his mind all day, even after you’ve changed clothes and fixed your hair and erased any trace of the mess you looked that morning; every free moment he has, he spends thinking of you. 

He wants to believe that you’d simply missed your train. An innocent, easy mistake. But the way you avoid meeting his eyes during service hours, no matter how many times he tries to get your attention, or get you to just look at him and confirm that you’re okay, tells him it’s more than that. 

He rushes through closing duties that night, just to make sure he’s good to leave before you finish closing up the front with Richie. He waits, sits in his office chair pretending to be busy until he sees you heading for the lockers, ready to clock out, and then moves to lean as casually as possible against the doorway. 

“You want a ride home?” He asks, interrupting you as you pull clothes out from the locker; the clothes you were wearing this morning, he realizes, a sweatshirt and biker shorts. Like you expect to break a sweat on the way home, too. 

“Nope. Thank you, chef, I’m good.” You barely even look over at him as you say it, and Carmy has to stop himself from making a face, making his displeasure visible. 

“I really don’t mind,” He tries again, but you just close your locker door and shake your head, ready — and desperate — to change out of your uniform in the bathroom before it’s time to lock up. You put on what you hope is an easy smile, but it comes off tense.

“I’m okay, Carm, really. It’s not like it’s raining-“

“Chef,” He interrupts you, suddenly stern. “C’mon.” 

He nods his head motioning for you to follow him, and it’s clear from his tone that there will be no room to argue. 

You trail behind him while he locks up, and on the way out to his car, you can feel that frustration building up inside you again. The same resentment and irritation you felt in the hospital, when he wouldn’t take your bullshit excuses in the same way that nurse or your other coworkers would, it rises and rises till you’re gripping your backpack strap a little too tight and shutting the car door a little too hard. 

You’re grateful, at the very least, that he says nothing when tears start to spill out and down your face as he drives you home. 

You sit in silence for a minute when Carmy pulls into your building’s parking lot. You can’t bring yourself to leave at first, part of you still craving to savor his presence for as long as you can, even if the other part of you is too angry to even look at him. 

“You wanna talk?” He asks quietly. 

“Nope.” His question is enough to set you off, pushing the car door open and furiously wiping away your tears as you haul yourself out. 

Logically, Carmy knows it might be best to leave you alone for tonight. Let you calm down and attempt reconciliation tomorrow morning. Knowing it doesn’t stop the feeling that he can’t just leave you alone, and let you walk away upset. 

“Hey,” He calls out, opening his own door and moving to follow you. “C’mon-“

“Fuck you, Carmen.” You spit out. 

He’s undeterred, even if you don’t turn back to face him once, refusing to acknowledge him tailing you the entire way up to your apartment. 

You don’t tell him to leave you alone, to stop following you, to fuck off. You don’t even slam your front door in his face like he half-expects you to. Instead it hangs open as you storm into your living room, a silent invitation. An invitation Carmy doesn’t hesitate to accept, stepping through your door and carefully closing it behind him. 

He’s still wracking his brain on what to say, clueless on how to stop the tears flowing down your face as you toss your backpack down and meekly lower yourself to sit on the floor between your couch and the coffee table, knees pulled into your chest. 

“Will you just fuckin’ talk to me?” He finds himself pleading with you again after a minute, but his helplessness in the face of your distress makes his words come out callous, and you just scoff. 

“Don’t be a dickhead, Carmy.”

“I’m a dickhead? I-I’m the dickhead, for giving a fuck?” You lift your head to glare at him, and you can see that he wants to match your anger; all the tell-tale signs of an upcoming screaming match appearing in his features, scrunching up his face as he repeats your words back to you, and you know you’re not being fair. You promised him you’d let him in, allow him to help stop you from going off the deep end again, and yet you’re the one resisting him. You wish he’d let the frustration on his face overtake him, walk out your door and leave you alone with your mind. 

He doesn’t, no matter how much you will him to. His eyes meet your own, filled with misplaced ire, and all he does is lean his head back and sigh, running a hand over his face and forcing himself to curtail the urge to give in to your bait. 

“You don’t wanna talk, I’ll talk,” He starts tentatively, before saying maybe the last thing you’d expect: “I’m sorry.” 

Your narrowed eyes widen, the contempt in them turning to pure shock, but he barely notices. 

“I didn’t mean to- if I went too far, the other day, with the spaghetti. I didn’t mean to set you off like that. I’m sorry.” The absolute sincerity in his voice as he apologizes for something you know isn’t on him — it’s too much. 

You’d love to pass the blame off on somebody else. If you could find a single other person to hold accountable for causing the near-constant state of discomfort that you’ve been stuck in for weeks, the distress of living in your own body, you think you’d jump at the chance. But you can’t bring yourself to do it to the one person who’s offered to take the fault away from you, because even now, after you’ve lashed out at him, he’s deliberately gentle with you. 

You can see Carmy is ready to move towards your front door, you’ve sat here for too long without giving him a response, weeping silently. And maybe that would be the right thing to do after breaking your promise, letting him worry over you till he thinks he’s the one who owes you an apology. But selfishly, you reach up and grasp his arm before he can even turn to leave, gently tugging him down to sit with you, and he lets you. 

“I’m sorry,” You start once he’s settled next to you, your voice still thick with tears. “I know what we talked about in the hospital. I haven’t been- I fucked all that up, I know, I’m sorry.” He’s shaking his head, looking like he wants to refute you, but you continue on.

“I just… I’m so fucking scared,” You nearly choke on your words, but it’s a relief to get them out, and suddenly you can’t stop the rest from spilling from your mouth. “I’m scared of getting better. I can’t stand the thought of it, I don’t even- I don’t know what I’d be for, if I wasn’t like this all the time. And it’s fucking embarrassing. That’s all I feel, all the time, just- constant fear, and shame. I can’t fucking stop myself.” 

You take a pause, doing your best to breathe deep and avoid Carmy’s intent gaze, so you don’t lose your nerve.

“We were good, for a bit, and I wasn’t so… out of control. But then I fucked it, and I-I couldn’t just, tell you. Felt like, for once there was someone who understood, and I just wanted to keep the rest of it out of sight, I guess.” 

It’s the most you’ve expressed to anyone about this. You think maybe you’ve gone too far, that maybe now you’ll have alienated the one person you’ve been honest with in years. But when you finally look up at Carmy, he’s nodding thoughtfully, no trace of judgment or pity in his expression. 

“I don’t.” He says carefully. “I don’t really understand. I-I don’t think I could, uh-” He pauses, clasping one hand over the other tightly, like it pains him to force his words out, too. “I guess, growin’ up, food was basically a love language. It was how I bonded with Mikey, it’s why I wanted to do this job in the first place. So, to avoid food… I don’t think I can imagine what that’s like.” 

All you can do is nod. You shouldn’t have made him listen to you vent your emotions, you should’ve let him walk out your door-

“But, I’d like to try. If that’s what you want.” He says, interrupting your spiral. “I just need to know you’re safe. Shutting me out like this – it’s bullshit. I’m not gonna just- stop caring. Even if it’s ugly. Just don’t shut me out.” 

His earnestness practically shoots you in the chest, filling you with that warm, familiar feeling that usually comes with his presence. You want to push against it, you haven’t earned it back, it’s too damn much.

“Even if I… end up in the hospital again?” You say, trying to keep your tone light, but you can’t keep the pleading out of your voice. 

“I’d drive you to the hospital a hundred times.” Carmy replies, completely genuine, and now you can’t push back against the urge to throw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

You don’t know how long you sit there, on the hard floors of your living room, arms tight around each other, breathing together. All you know is that you don’t want him to leave; he makes no move to go. 

a few people asked to be tagged on this part, so here you go! @rexorangecouny @moonlight-sonata99 @kpopgirlbtssvt

[stxrr-strxckk]

"Trust me darling, I'm not the man you think I am." part  II

Work rivals to lovers with Carmen Berzatto. (read part I here!!)

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x fem!reader

Synopsis: Maybe Carmy's work crush isn't as one sided as he thought...

Any warnings?: Not very proofread writing, cursing, and some innuendos

What's that on the record player?: Pretty girls make graves; The smiths

The only thing Carmy thinks about when walking into the kitchen is himself. Things like how he's going to smoke everyone in that damn kitchen like they were a pack of cigs on a smoke break. He'd make sure they knew he was the best, and there was nothing they could do about it. He was a man on a mission, laser focused on whatever he had to cook for that night. Nothing could get in his way.

Except you.

You, with the loud mouth and messy station and attitude like no other. If you weren't somehow royally fucking up another one of Carmy's dishes or moods, it was because you two were in a screaming match in the back of the kitchen.

So of course it's natural of him to be watching your every move, making sure that whatever the hell is going on in that brain, that it doesn't fuck up his routine like it has so many goddamn times in the past.

Right?

Yes, it's perfectly normal for him to spend every minute of his job, the one he worked so hard to get, ignoring everything but you. Hey, he's just being prepared. How else to make sure you're not getting in the way of his perfectly planned out station?

But lately? Carmen was beginning to realize his staring was a bit more than just a precaution.

God, ever since that fucking lamb he couldn't keep his eyes off you. That memory lived rent free in his mind 24/7, and he found his consciousness drifting there every free second he had.

Especially with what happened with the mint jelly.

"What about the mint jelly?" Carmy felt a little jolt go through his body. The look on your face, so innocent and pure. Something in him wanted to ruin it, make you feel the sin that covered his body. The hope in your eyes and the smile threatening to curve onto your gorgeous lips was enough for him to give in to your demands.

"Fuck, really? Yeah. Fuck. Let's do this." He could feel himself smiling, and you soon return the favor. How could you not? Carmen rarely smiled, but when he did? You had to admit, it was adorable. There was a child-like, naive charm about that grin. He was like a little kid again, and you just wanted to hug him in that moment.

"Great! Yeah, let's uh, let's go over here, and you can show me how to do this. Properly." God, were you really being nice to Carmen Berzatto? Fuck, what kind of demon had possessed you tonight?

You follow Carmy as he shuffles towards your station once again. He grabs the pan holding your runny jelly, grabbing a nearby spoon to taste. You feel heat rush to your cheeks. It was embarassing, really. Here was probably the best chef in all of New York-and he was taking time out of his shift to help you make a fucking jelly.

As he takes the spoon in his mouth, Carmy can feel his eyes widen. While yes, the consistency was off- it was barely even jelly, anymore, the taste was there. And it wasn't even half bad.

"Mmm," he savors the flavor, and you look at him anxiously. "That," he points to the pan. "is good shit."

"Really?" you let out a sigh of relief, and Carmy nods. The look on your face makes him want to smile again. Your bright eyes and wide smile have him thinking one thing: cute.

"Yeah, uh, I mean- it's not perfect. Definitely not perfect. Like, it's all runny and shit- and that's-that's not good. But the flavor is spot on. It's- it's fire." he replies, wiping the corner of his mouth on his sleeve before setting down the spoon.

"Thanks." you say awkwardly, gazing down at the floor. You hate to admit you're scared to meet his piercing blue gaze.

"Damn." Carmy says, placing his hands on his hips. "At least I know why they haven't fired you yet."

And just like that, Old Carmy's back.

"What do you mean, why they haven't fired me yet?" You inquire, looking up at him with slight annoyance. "Are you questioning my ability?"

"What? Oh fuck- no. No. Not at all." he stammers, trying to recover. "I just meant that- while the taste is good, the presentation is sloppy, which isn't- it's not what most restaurants want. So it's like, surprising if you haven't tasted the food that you're still around. But- but I tasted the food, and- you know what, I guess I was wrong."

"Wow, Carmen Berzatto admitting he's wrong? That's shocking, considering how fucking stubborn you are." you retort. Thank god, you were beginning to get worried that maybe you were a total asshole to this guy for no reason. But nope, you were right. Carmen's a dick.

"I- how am I stubborn? How? Give me one- one fucking example of me being stubborn. I fuckin' dare you." he raises his voice, and you take a step towards him.

"Gee, let me think. How about every fuckin' day, not taking any suggestions from anyone because you think we're all fucking below you?"

"Okay, okay- first of all, I don't think you're below me-"

"Then how come you never take anything I say seriously? It's like-"

"Don't fuckin' interrupt me, I'm trying to explain myself- if you'd let me-"

"Hey, maybe I wouldn't be interrupting you if you fucking listened to me every once in a while-"

"Maybe I'd listen if you had good ideas-"

"What, like your ideas are better than mine?"

"You know what, yeah! And my dishes are too, bitch!"

"The fuck are you saying about my dishes? You saying I'm a bad chef?"

"Actually- yeah! Yeah, I am saying that! You're a bad chef! You. Are. A. Bad-"

"Oh fuck off, Carmy!"

"Make me! Fuckin-"

"Last time I checked, this was MY station! So how about you leave me the fuck alone, Carmen?"

"I'm only over here 'cause you needed my help so goddamn badly! That lamb was fucking so raw I could hear it fuckin' bleatin' still!"

"I didn't ASK you to help! You just fuckin- sauntered over like some macho man-"

Ah, classic Carmen. Back to bickering with everyone he knew. Especially you. The other chefs start to gather around, watching your argument with the bastard. You two were leaned so close together, faces inches from the other's as you two screamed at each other.

"...Yeah, I said it, and I fucking meant it! And I'll say it again! You're a fuckin'-"

"HEY!"

Your voice fell silent, as well as Carmen's. The group of chef's surrounding you two turned, revealing a head chef who didn't look too pleased.

"Back to work everyone. This is a kitchen, not a preschool. Leave the fights for the playground."

That seemed to end it, and the crowd dispersed. You stared at where the crowd once stood, but Carmy snapped you back to reality.

"Back alley. Now."

You followed him, confused. Why were you going to the alley? To argue more? Or maybe he had something else planned. You shivered at the thought of him pushing you up against the brick wall, trapping you between his strong arms and doing whatever he wanted to you. You wish you didn't enjoy the idea.

As you left the kitchen, coat in hand, cold night air greeted your skin. It was accompanied by the smell of smoke. Carmy leaned against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a lighter in his right hand.

He glanced over at you, and raised his eyebrows. "Cig?" he offered the pack to you, and you shook your head.

"Smoking kills, you know." You shiver, and he shrugs.

"Why do you think I do it?"

"God, that was a stupid ass line." you laugh, rubbing your arms to try and warm them up. Curse these New York winters. You looked towards Carmy again, wondering the hell he could survive without a jacket on in his freezing weather.

"You cold?" he asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"No shit, sherlock. Great observation."

He chuckles, seemingly a lot more cooled down thanks to the nicotine.

You two sit in silence for a minute, before he speaks again.

"I got a coat, you want it?"

You freeze, contemplating both your shock and your answer. Why was he being so nice? Carmy's usually the biggest asshole in New York, maybe even the united states. But here he is, offering you his coat like it's some kind of first date? Fuck, it's kinda sweet.

You nod, teeth chattering. You figure no harm done; it was either this or freeze to death on the streets of New York. Carmy takes a final puff of his cigarette, before dropping it and putting it out with his shoe. He heads back inside, returning with a heavy winter jacket. He puts it around your shoulders, and you start to feel warmer.

"Thanks." you say. He doesn't reply, enjoying the background noise of the busy New York streets. You decide this is as good a time as ever to cool down, let off some steam. You had to admit, it did get heated in there. You regretted some of the things you said, but there was no way in hell you'd admit that to him.

"Sorry I called you a bitch."

"What?" you laugh. There's no way Carmen Berzatto just apologized. He never apologizes for anything, but now he's saying sorry to you? Of all people, you?

"I said I'm sorry I called you a bitch. Wasn't cool on my end."

"... Apology accepted." you reply awkwardly, trying not to smile. It was oddly sweet of him to actually say sorry for once. "Sorry I said you were an asshole."

"Nothing I haven't heard before." he shrugged. "Plus, you weren't wrong. I was being an asshole."

"Glad you noticed." a laugh escapes your throat. Carmy feels himself blush, but maybe it's just the cold biting at his cheeks.

"So, should we head back inside?" you offered. "I don't know about you, but I'm freezing to death."

"Yeah, sure." he agrees. "You go first, I'm gonna wait out here a bit longer." he adds, watching as you rush back inside, to the heated kitchen.

"Fuck..." is all he manages to say, staring up at the dark sky. It started snowing, he noted. There was already some piled around from the last few days, but this one seemed different. This was one to enjoy. This was one for friends, for family, for lovers.

He wished you'd stayed out here with him.

A/n: Chapter 2 of my work rivals fic is DONE! Hope y'all like it, I'm pretty invested in this series. Tell me if you've got any ideas on what should happen next! Remember to reblog, like, follow, and send in requests! XX, Starr!

Wordcount: 1,885

[sleepyshygirl-blog]

I've been like, 2 days in the Bear fandom, but I haven't seen much talk about Ebra, and I just feel so much for him. He had a routine, it was crazy, chaotic, and honestly, shitty. But it was HIS routine. And then Carmy came around and even though he tried to abruptly change things around, it was still chaotic and crazy and shitty. Ebra's normality. But then the whole fancy change, the cuisine school, the fancy food and all of a sudden, he's supposed to be up with everything. Of course he was scared. Of course he was mourning his old routine. And I loved that they brought the other two to help out with the sandwiches. They gave part of his routine back, without the toxic chaos around, at least.

[carmenberzattosgf]

I feel like Carmy would love to watch you get ready. Especially if you give him a little GRWM and explain all of the steps and products. He would listen so intently. He just loves staring and watching you do anything really.

-🍯

Oh gosh he so would! When you get ready in the morning, if he has time he’ll sit on the bathroom counter and just watch you. It’s a little bit daunting the first time he does it after spending the night at your place.

“Carm. You’re starring, baby.”

“What are you putting on there?” He points to the bottle in your hand.

“This is my SPF.”

“Isn’t it like… Winter? Why do you need sunscreen?”

“Sun rays are just as harmful in the winter as in the summer, Carmy! I gotta keep my skin protected. Sun screen is the best way to prevent skin cancer,” you explain.

“Should you put some on me, then?”

“Oh my god. I thought you’d never ask.”

From then on, Carmy will make it his mission to sit and watch you get ready when he’s over. He’ll ask what stuff is if he’s never seen it before, or if you buy a new product. As long as it’s not makeup, he’s willing to let you put anything you want on his skin.

He asks a lot of questions during the makeup part of your routine. Mostly, he’s curious about how you choose eye shadow colors everyday, and how you find the right shade of blush. He knows how color theory works on paper from years of drawing, but has no clue how that would work on human skin.

I just know in my bones that one day when he walks into work Richie notices he smells like flowers from the lotion you put on him that morning, and teases the fuck out of him for it. Carmy doesn’t mind though, because it means he smells like you.

[writeroutoftime]

Hi! I saw Drabble requests are open if I’m wrong just ignore me. I looked at the prompt list. Could you do either #5 or #19 with Carmen? They seem to fit him well. Love your writing by the way!

a/n: hi there, thank you so much for sending this in! and, also, thank you for your kind words, it really means a lot! for this one, I decided to go with #19, cause it just seems so sweet with him! enjoy! 💗

(takes place when it's still the beef - post first date fluff | also, want to request a drabble? send it in!)

oOoOo

The bell above the old door chimed out to the staff as you walked into shop. No one at The Beef was shocked to see you, as it had become part of your routine to stop by every Thursday afternoon. However, this particular afternoon felt monumental as you pushed yourself pass the threshold.

Richie stood behind the counter and perked up when he saw you walk towards him. "Well, well, well. Lookie who we have here." he greeted with arms crossed over his chest as a shit-eating grin overtook his features.

"Hello, Richard." you greeted, rolling your eyes good naturedly.

"Yo, cousin," Richie shouted over his shoulder. "you-know-who is here. And it's not fucking Voldemort."

"You a Potterhead now?" you teased, leaning against the counter.

"Shut up, Eva's going through a phase. Now how was your date?" Richie started explaining before deflecting.

Luckily, he was saved by Carmy walking up, wiping his hands on the towel that hung by his hip. "What are you going on about, cousin?" he asked before spotting you, and quickly running his hands through his hair. Though, that only served to muss his curls up further. "Oh, uh, hi. Didn't expect to see you."

"Even though I come in every Thursday?" you teased, biting your lip to stop your grin from spreading further.

"Right, sorry, I knew that." he said, looking down sheepishly. "Uh, you want your usual?"

"That'd be great." you nodded, watching as Carmy threw the order over his shoulder. Your eyes also caught onto to the subtle shake of Carmy's hand. Reaching out, you squeezed his rough hand in yours and smiled. "Hey, I just want to say again, I really had a great time last night."

Carmen allowed himself a moment to focus on the way your hand fit in his. He appreciated the weight it provided, grounding him in that moment. "Yeah, no, um, I-I did too." he stumbled, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "I was wondering, you know if, uh," he began but stopped himself as he saw your smile.

It sent a jolt through him that knocked the wind out of him and sent his thoughts spiraling. He wasn't sure what he had done to get you to give him the time of day, let alone enjoy a night out with him, but he didn't want to lose a chance to do it again.

"Q-quit smiling at me." he said through a soft laugh. "I can't stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that."

Feeling emboldened by his confession you pressed a bit further. "You like my smile?"

That seemed to throw him for a loop. "Y-yeah, of course. I like all of you. And that's why I was wondering if you maybe, I don't know, wanted to go out again?" he asked, one hand finding its way into his hair again.

"I'd love to, Carmy." you beamed. "I'll text you, okay?" you confirmed with a kiss to his cheek, grabbing the to-go bag Richie just placed down on the counter. "Thanks, Richie. See you later, Carm." you offered, waving once more before heading back to work.

You couldn't help the smirk on your lips as you overheard Richie razzing Carmy for the interaction. Yeah, he was a keeper.

[fishfooddude]

Fatherhood: Carmy Berzatto

I did a similar post for Billy Hargrove a while back. Why not do one with our favorite chef? This also may be an intro to a new series.

The Bear MasterList

Directory

In early 2018, Carmy lived with his cousin Michelle and her long-term boyfriend, Steven. He enjoyed spending time with her before finding a SOU position at some hot shot’s new restaurant. He enjoyed his time there- at least as much as Carmy could.

After moving out of her guest bedroom, he found a decent apartment near The French Laundry. This led him to meet Amanda at a local coffee shop.

Amanda was Carmy’s polar opposite. She was a model/influencer/actress who found Carmy interesting enough during their initial meeting. Finding out he was a ‘celebrity’ chef made her pursue him. 

The two didn’t have a lot in common, but Carmy being the stupid horny 25-year-old he was, didn’t particularly mind. She was something to keep his mind busy when he wasn’t cooking.

The two hadn’t been together long when Amanda sent him a picture of a positive pregnancy test and a Venmo request for half the cost of an abortion. He couldn’t do it. His sweet Nonna’s voice echoed in his head, going on about how life began at conception and how abortion was the ultimate insult to God- he didn’t intentionally try to guilt Amanda or force her into doing anything she didn’t want to do, but listening to his sweet promises of raising a baby together was… convincing. At least at first. 

COVID shutdowns proved difficult for the two. Amanda felt like a shut-in. Carmy was getting on her nerves more and more every day. Although the pregnancy content she was getting out of this arrangement was a bankroll, Carmy turned from her hot celebrity chef boy toy to her ‘controlling’ baby daddy. Every like she got on Instagram, every brand deal, every positive comment, and well-wish almost made it worth it.

Carmy ensured she was eating well and living a relatively low-stress life. He did everything he could to make this pregnancy as smooth as possible.

Michelle was the only person he’d told about Amanda and their baby. She, of course, told Natalie and the other cousins. At first, Natalie didn’t believe her. Carmy hadn’t dated in high school, and truthfully, she wasn’t sure about the escapades he’d gotten himself into when he lived in Europe, but she couldn’t see her baby brother as some international playboy. Of course she Instagram stalked Amanda for weeks, trying to figure out their ‘relationship’ timeline. Natalie decided she hated Amanda- she’d been using her baby brother to up her own status. 

Carmy was nervous when the two found out the baby was a boy. Growing up without his Dad and Mikey as a father figure- he didn’t think he could be a Dad. He devoted hours of his life reading everything he could to prepare for this new role.

Amanda went into labor early. Thirty hours later, Wyatt Arlo Berzatto was born. Carmy was in love with him the moment he saw him.

Parenthood was more challenging than Carmy originally thought. With New York reopening, The French Laundry was determined to get back in the green. Carmy worked 14-18 hours a day, and for the remaining hours of his days, he dedicated himself to being the best Dad he could be. He had a routine for the most part. He’d take care of Wyatt’s first feeding and change him before getting some morning snuggles in. At work, he turned his brain off. He was a machine; every plate was perfect, and every chop was precise. After work, Carmy would go home to a crying baby and a crying pseudo-girlfriend. He took care of Wyatt while Amanda locked herself away in the bedroom. Carmy got used to it; he didn’t realize what was happening until it happened.

The day Amanda abandoned them was a memory burned into Carmy’s head, not because of his feelings toward Amanda but because she’d left his eight-month-old son alone for who knows how long. He walked into the apartment to hear Wyatt’s crying- it didn’t register at first; this was a different cry. It was a high-pitched, intense wailing that Carmy had never heard. He scrambled into the nursery. He wasn’t sure how long Wyatt had been crying. Carmy had scooped him up in his arms and tried his best to soothe him. Wyatt hadn’t eaten or been changed since that morning. Carmy wasn’t sure how long Amanda had left Wyatt alone; all he knew was she was gone. 

With Amanda's limited support, fatherhood had been hard enough, but it was a whole other can of worms without it. He was worried that Wyatt would be traumatized for the rest of his life because of his mother’s actions.

As soon as Carmy had finally gotten into a normal routine again, he got the call. Natalie had been bugging him to come home to visit with Wyatt. Carmy was going to ignore her call that night while he lay in bed with one of Wyatt’s feet in his face, but his gut said to answer. Mikey was gone. Carmy sobbed; he felt like he was going to throw up until he was met with a stubby finger poking his eye. 

Wyatt didn’t know what was happening, in his short life, he’d never seen his dad like this. He poked Carmy’s eye again before pushing his stuffed duck in Carmy’s direction, babbling something before screaming ‘Dada’ at the top of his lungs. Carmy watched his son throw himself against his chest as tears poured from his eyes; he had to be strong for him.

[thecapricunt1616]

The Bear & His Honey Chapter 4

Inspo: Quote- “ Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me- I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.”  Dedication: @daysofyellowroses - bestie thank you for inspiring and encouraging me to write. I haven’t felt more alive and inspired then I have in the past few days writing again. Thank you!! This is for you loveyyyy.  Summary: Winnie & Carmy get closer. Have a marg over a mini therapy session, Winnie fixes up Carm’s panic injury. They find out there may just have been a single thread of gold tying them together the entire time.  W/C: 5,484 A/N: Oh my lanta y’all!! 2 chapters in one day?! I promise- PROMISEEE tonight I am figuring a master list out, because I (myself) have been struggling to keep things canon to the story by having to scroll and scroll through my page to find each part to see what I said for Winnie, LOL! So get hype for that, I love this chapter even more then the last bc it has more Carmy, but Richie is so fun to write and I can’t wait for he&Winnies friendship to bloom!!! For my canon Carmy continues going to therapy once or so a week / a support group type talk therapy so that is why he shares more than he would in the show. It’s on his one day off so that’s why he is able to continue making it, and he thrives on routine so going once a week keeps him regulated.  Warnings for BTC: A little bit of smut, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of vehicular accidents ending in death, mentions of self-harm, mentions of severe injury, negative self-talk, feminine yearning (ofc), fluffy fluff (enough for your teeth to rot out of ur face), panic disorder, mentions of a panic attack, heavy petting, alcohol, mentions of smoking cigarettes, mental health issues, exhausted Carmy LOL

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

Read Chapter 3

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The door flings open and before I could even get a good look at him his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, his large hands resting on my rib cage, and thumbs gently rubbing soothing strokes. I gasped a bit in surprise at the contact, his muscular chest pressed to mine. Pulling me tighter and he nuzzles his face in my neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps to appear all over my skin. I inhaled his scent, a bit of his musky spicy cologne still left over after the long day, cigarette smoke, and a day of working, but he didn’t smell bad at all. I would buy a fucking candle of it if I could, and never burn it so it lasts forever. 

He needed this hug. 

“Thank you f’ comin’, Winnie. I really need a drink, like now” he said quietly and I bit my lip, my hands rubbing soothing circles in the middle of his back. “Course, you think I’d turn down a free drinky-drink from the sexiest little Chef boy in Chicago?” He chuckled into my neck, feeling a small smile press into my skin. “I’m sorry” he pulls away and I finally am able to look at him. 

His hair is a mess, cheeks are stained red, his eyes are bloodshot and glazed over like he’d been crying, he rubs the back of his neck and I see a bit of smeared blood over his forearm. “It’s- it’s okay, hard day?” I asked, twiddling my fingers anxiously, worried he was going to ask me to leave and tell me that it wasn’t a good time anymore. “Ye’” he replied in a sigh and I swallowed hard. 

“D-did you- sorry,” my voice coming out small and meek. I clear my throat “Was it- not a good time for you? It’s fine, totally, totally fine…should have given my number I guess - but I can-“ I motion my thumb to the door down the hall. 

“No! No, please, stay. It’s - it’ll be nice. To like- to see you. I meant sorry about,” he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head “sorry for like- flinging myself on you?” He says and I giggle, causing him to look at me.

 “I love hugs! You give great hugs, is that why your sister calls you Bear? Oh my god!! Wait. This is your- that’s so cool, Carmen! You’re so cool!” I motioned to the restaurant, alluding to the name. “That’s so fuckin cool dude!” He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets shyly and looking at his feet. 

“Thank you, but- uh. No. I’m not…usually a hugger which is why I’m also surprised I did that, guess I needed it. They call me bear cause - well. Don’t poke the bear kinda thing” he said and I took a few steps forward, our toes almost touching and his eyes met mine again. I raise my hand, and gently poke the flower tattoo adorning his left arm with my forefinger and smile. “Gonna bite me?” I quip, lifting my hands and poking short pokes all over his chest and he laughs a bit. 

“Y’re cute” he said and I put a final poke on his nose, blush rising to my cheeks at the statement. “And very thirsty. Pour me a drink will you, bartender?” I turned around on the ball of my foot swiftly, walking with pep back into the kitchen and I look back at him, to find his eyes practically undressing me from where I’d left him moments ago. I grin, putting my hands on my hips “You staring at my ass isn’t making me any less thirsty over here, bartender!” I said and he blushes “sorry…sorry”

He comes out and places a hand at the small of my back leading me to the main part of the restaurant and towards the bar “you just - uh…you look really good. I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to get home, I wanted to but - shit just got outta control, Syd forgot about this huge cannoli order and we forgot to get the powdered sugar with the last resupply so I had to make powdered sugar - it was just-” I rub my hand up his arm gently, stopping him and grabbing his attention. 

“It’s fine Carmen. You look fine. I’ll admit, a little bit tired. But you worked all day, I’ve been there” I shrug and he nods a bit, “thanks” he said softly walking behind the bar. I get up on one of the bar stools, crossing my legs and resting my chin in my palm looking over the restaurant and tapping my nails on the table. “This place is super nice, Carm, you should be so proud of yourself. It feels fancy but inviting too.” I hum admiring the lights and artwork on the walls. 

“Why thank you, we all worked really hard. I’m surprised it came together every day, but super grateful.” He said, taking Patron off of the middle shelf and scooping ice into the mixer, counting to himself as he pours it. “Doesn’t show, you run a tight ship it sounds, Chef” I smiled. He snorts “how would you know? Or is it just the pans from earlier” he said and threw a few slices of jalapeño, lime, and mint in to the cup before closing it tightly and shaking. 

“Yes and no, Richie told me, said that you were a good boy today though, and your sister was the one causing trouble” blush creeps into his cheeks. “Ye’ and see what happens when I’m ‘good’ as you told me to do? Shit got fucked” he pours in some club soda and mixes it with a bar spoon before pouring us both a glass. “Mmmm. Was that because you weren’t barking orders, or because something happened out of your control, and you’re blaming yourself?” I asked honestly and he set my glass down in front of me, biting his lip for a moment. 

“Everything is out of my fucking control” he muttered and shook his head, as if it was a quiet, painful reminder to himself. “Most things, in most people’s lives, are out of our control” I gently rest my hand over his and he meets my eyes. “The only things you can control is if, and when you fall apart, and how well you glue yourself back together.” I said earnestly and he swallows thickly, nodding. 

“I like that..thank you” he said and I nod. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge you- this time. But d’ya think I can get a fancy umbrella or somethin’ for this drink?” I smiled and nudged it toward him, he chuckled, shaking his head “you are somethin’ else, Winnie” he crouches down behind the bar with a grunt. 

“Fuck. I’m 26 but my back feels 90” he said and I laughed a bit. “It’s all the cookin’! And being on your feet too damn much, My mom is a massage therapist, you should let me give you a massage sometime.” I said and he got back up, groaning dramatically which made me giggle. “For you, dear.” He drops a little pink umbrella into my cup. 

“Oh my goodness you poor thing. Come sit down” I pat the spot next to me and plucked my bag off the seat, hanging it off the back of my chair. He comes around the bar, plopping down in the chair next to me with a sigh of relief. “I will absolutely take you up on your massage offer sometime.” He said, rubbing over his face tiredly and running his hands through his muss of curls before taking a sip of his own drink. 

“Please do, I’ll pull out all the stops for ya’, but just so you know- a happy ending comes with a pretty cost” I said flirtatiously and nudged his leg with my boot playfully. He chuckled and looked over at me “yea? Thanks for the heads up I’ll be sure to budget accordingly for my trip to Winnie’s Massage Parlor” he teased and I laughed a bit. 

“Yess!! Please do! There’s also Winnie’s salon, Winnie's hospital, and Winnie’s library!! Come by for all your daily needs I’ma’ Jane of all trades” I shrug and take another sip of my drink. “Speaking of” I take his left arm, looking at the inner part near the crook, where 4 large scratches were, done so violently that the skin beneath was turning into a speckled bruise meaning by morning it would be a dark purple. 

“What happened?” I ask softly, my finger tip gently brushing over the untouched skin over the smeared, dried out blood below the wound. “Ahh-“ he shakes his head “it’s stupid. It’s not even bad don’t worry about it” he said and I looked at him, concerned. “Did- did Sug-“ he cuts me off quickly “Sugar, would never hurt me.” He said, his tone was deadly serious. 

I nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Okay, Carm, I believe you” I said softly and squeezed his wrist gently. “Will you…let me take care of you- please?” I ask quietly, looking into his eyes, my gaze pleading for a yes. 

“So Winnie’s hospital is mobile?” He said with a small teasing smile. I roll my eyes playfully. “Yes, let’s go find the first aid kit, and honestly it’s pretty but like - empty in here and… I dunno” I bit my lip, hoping he got the hint and he nods “sure we - we can uh. Yeah. Let’s go sit in Sugars office. She has a couch” I nodded and hopped off the seat, gasping when the corner of it hooks onto the hem of my skirt as I get down and pulls it up, exposing my backside clad in a lacy red thong through the sheer bum part of my fleeced nylons. 

“Oh my god!” I blurt as I quickly pulled it back down, my cheeks on fire, and my heart pounding in embarrassment. I hear Carmen burst out in laughter behind me making my embarrassment grow and I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest, my eyebrows becoming furrowed. “Hey!” I snip “what’s so funny!! Why were you looking peeping tom!” I whine and he covers his mouth to stifle the laughter. 

“To make sure your munchkin self didn’t trip off of the stool in those clunky ass boots!! Being a gentleman really paid off for me there” he said and I went over slapping his arm gently with a smile growing on my face. “I guess it’s a good thing I wore panties or I would’ve mooned you” I grab my drink and turn around, a surprised chuckle coming from him. 

“Holy shit, you go commando?” He asks, holding the kitchen door open for me “sometimes, she needs to breathe!!” I said with a shrug and pushed my bag up on my shoulder as I followed him back to Sugars office. “But what if you get horny?” He asked and I laughed, nudging him with my elbow. “Dude!! Richie said you were not forward with girls, that’s pretty forward” I set my bag down on sugars desk and he plops down on the big comfy sofa pulling out a recliner on his side and he sighs, closing his eyes. 

“Gimme a sec’ this is the first time my feet are up since 1” he said and I sat down next to him, “you haven’t sat down since I left?!” I asked and he shook his head, opening his eyes and head falling to the side on the cushion to look at me. “Mm-mm” he hummed in response. “Where’s the first aid kit? I’ll find it” I said and he rubs his face, thinking. 

“Uhhh. Oh there’s one in here actually, go over to the other side of Sug’s desk, it should be tucked there next to the wall” he said and took a sip of his drink. I got up, going where he said and I leaned over, completely forgetting the rules of skirts by mistake. “You’re a fucking tease” he said lowly and my heart pounds, my stomach fluttering wildly, and my core beginning to twitch and throb in excitement. 

“What’s not nice about helping a new friend clean up their boo-boo’s?” I asked innocently, a small smile on my lips as I turned and sat down on the couch on the cushion next to him. He smirks “you…are gonna make me crazy” he said softly and closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. I opened the kit, taking out hand sanitizer, saline wipes, gauze, and triple antibiotic. 

“Wait-“ he said his eyes flickering open “you- you met Richie?” He asks as if I hadn’t been mentioning him since I walked in the door, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “It’s like- the first thing I said when I got here.” I said and he sighs softly. “I’m…sorry.” He finally said, like he was contemplating whether to say more. “That’s ok, you had a hard day” I took his arm gently, laying it across my lap. “What did he say? How bad did he embarrass me?” He questions and I giggle a bit, sanitizing my hands before opening a saline wipe. 

“Not at all! He said you’re shy with girls, that he’s surprised you asked me out cause he thinks I’m pretty, and apparently, doesn’t think you are very funny- but I on the other hand, seemed to make him laugh a lot so- got you beat” I teased with a smile as I ever gently wipe over the wounds. 

He snorts “well, you are pretty, he’s an asshole but right.” He said and I looked up at him “not many people make me laugh anymore, you seem to, though.” I said honestly, and he tugs his lip between his teeth to catch a grin from taking over his features. “Yea?” He asks quietly with a blush going across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. “Mmhmm” I hum in reply, putting the ointment on and carefully rubbing it in. 

It was quiet for a moment before he says “I’m sorry.” Causing me to look up at him, but his gaze was stuck on the ceiling. “This wasn’t - I wanted to do something nice for you and… I’m sorry.” I stop working on his arm “sorry for what, Carm? This is so nice. The drink is really good, thank you for making it, I’m glad to be here.” I said honestly and placed my hand on top his. 

His icy blue eyes meet mine, looking over my face slowly and locking on my lips. His eyes flick back to mine when he responds “you just look so pretty, like you should be on a real date. Not here fuckin-“ he sighs, looking down at his arm then back at me. “Dealing with my stupid mistake.” I shook my head and wrapped up his arm with a bandage to keep it clean and dry while he slept and it could scab over. 

“This is a real date. You own a restaurant. Carmen. Look at me.” I order and he looks into my eyes. “You, just you, asking me to come see you, to be together, to get to know each other? You are enough. This is a date. An awesome date. I’m having fun, are you having fun?” I asked and he smiled a bit. 

“No, but….” He trails off, looking at his lap and I felt my heart physically ache, my face drooping “peace” he finally said “I feel…at peace, with you around. I noticed it when we were outside earlier, I came out for a smoke cause I was about to absolutely loose it on Syd, and I don’t- I- I can’t do that to her. So I went out and I totally forgot my light and then..you were there and I forgot about everything.” He said. 

Goosebumps arise on my skin at the admission, the warmth in my chest returning at full force. “And - I thought about you…all day- all-all day. Not like- god I sound like a creep” he takes his arm, rubbing his face in embarrassment. “I thought about you too.” I reply softly. “I thought about you…a lot. Actually.” I bit my lip and his eyes met mine, searching for truth and it was all he found in my locked gaze. 

“Not like- I just couldn’t understand how I felt. But the more I think… I do this thing.” He rubs his chin as he thinks. “Learned it in therapy, they said when you can’t figure out how a person or a situation made you feel, you can like think of people and situations that you do know how you feel about, and keep comparing them until you find a match. S-so when I thought of you.” He swallows thickly and I sit up, completely entrenched in listening to him. 

“I found that things that gave me the same feelings w-were like…my one day off a week that I don’t have to be here. I think of…the fucking morning I went to Central Park and watched the sunrise and it was so..so quiet. I think- I think” he presses his lips together. “O-of-of Mikey. Of my brother. He’s dead. But. H-he. He protected me a lot, growin’ up. Helped me out. A lot. I felt like when Mikey was around, it was alright. And that’s how I felt earlier. I’m sorry-“ he shakes his head, putting the recliner down and finishing off his drink. 

“Why?” I ask and squeeze his hand “that’s…so, so sweet. You make me feel at peace too, unless you’re angry- but I was worried for you and what happened. I’m so happy I make you feel like that, Carmen. Thank you for sharing, may I hug you?” I ask gently and he looks at me a bit surprised. “Y-yea ‘fcourse c’mere” he opened his arms and I wrapped him in a warm embrace. “The way you make me laugh makes me feel the way my brother did when he made me laugh, we were twins. He died.” I said just above a whisper. 

He rests his cheek on the top of my head, rubbing soothing circles in my back as I did for him earlier. “I’m so sorry, what was his name?” He asked, equally as quiet. “Chris, Christopher” I felt my lip quiver, that never dulling ache in my chest throbbing at the memory of him. 

“Oh, wow” he whispered “Winnie and Christopher” I felt him smiling on my hair “your parents knew what they were doin’ with names, that’s adorable.” He said and I smiled a bit. “Thank you, can you guess what our nursery was?” I look up at him and he raises his eyebrows. 

“Hmm.. let me think. Oh! I know, Dumbo?” He says sarcastically and I laugh, closing my eyes and nuzzling my face in his neck “Silly. Winnie the Pooh, I always said it was my room, because they had a big wall sticker of Winnie and all his animal friends, but not one of Christopher since they couldn’t find one. He hated that” I said and his fingers gently rubbed over the spot of bare skin between my skirt and my top. I feel him chuckle a bit “that’s cute” he said. 

“How did Mikey…” I trail off, his fingers stilling. “Shot ‘emself” he said plainly and my hug around his torso tightens “I’m so sorry” I whisper in to his skin. “What about Chris?” He asked and I swallowed thickly. “We got in a motorcycle accident. I still can’t talk about it.” I said as evenly and emotionlessly as I could, if I opened that flood gate there was no shutting it. 

“Oh- my god. Wow. I’m so sorry, I’m so glad you’re….” He trails off, realizing the other victim was very much not ok in any sense of the word. I sit up, taking my half full drink off the table and drinking it down in 3 big gulps. “Want another?” He asks and I shake my head, “work tomorrow” I said and he nods, “yeah me too” he muttered rubbing over his face. 

“Can I…get your number?” I asked and he nodded sitting up “course you can” he said and took his phone out of his pocket, logged in and opened up a new contact screen, offering it to me. “Only if I can have yours” he said with a small smile. “Of course!!” I took it from him. 

Winnie 🍯  

I put as the contact name, and type in my number, hitting save before handing it back. I do the same for him on my phone and hand it to him, when it’s returned, I see 

Carm🐻 

I smile, deleting the emoji and switching it for a 🧸 instead. I show him with a tilt of my wrist “cause your awesome hugs.” I said and smiled, saving it again. He blushes, smiling and shaking his head “I think you’re the one who gives good hugs, you smell like honey and you’re all soft.” He said and I giggle. “I’m glad you like my perfume” I said and pushed my hair behind my shoulders. 

“I do, it’s very nice. You live around here?” He asks and I nod “2 blocks that-a-way” I point behind us and he raises his eyebrows. “Really, what street?” He asked “Kensington Ave. The brownstones” I said and he chuckled “No shit. I live in the high rise across the way” he said and my mouth drops. “Wow. Work neighbors, and building neighbors, we’ve never met?” I giggle “you've been avoiding me?” I ask and he chuckles “never, uhh. I’m like never home. I go there to sleep for a few hours, and my days off I…sleep…the whole day usually, I usually get home around 1am and leave at like 4ish, sometimes 5 if I sleep in” I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. 

“3 hours of sleep and you wonder why you feel 90? You need to sleep Carmen. You’re gonna have a heart attack.” I said and he chuckled. “If I would only be that lucky'' he joked, taking our empty glasses to the kitchen and I followed him “no- i'm serious, like you’re gonna drive yourself nuts.” I said, leaning on the counter watching him wash the glasses. 

“I am already there sweetheart don’t worry, been there- ahh let’s see, 20? Maybe 19. So 7 years of insanity give or take.” He said and I giggled, shaking my head. “You are not nuts. A crazy person couldn’t run a restaurant.” I said and he snorted “that speaking is the mind of someone who doesn’t work in a restaurant. No, you have to be a psycho to do this shit. Especially at the level I do it.” He shuts off the sink, putting the cups on the drying rack and leaning on his elbows on the table mirroring me from across. 

“I think you’re very, very passionate.” I brush his curls from his eyes “and that you sometimes get in your own way by not allowing people to help you.. which can make things harder” I said and he smiled, amusedly. “How do you already know so much about me, have you been stalking and avoiding me so I don’t find out?” He teases and I laugh. “Shut up, no. I have not. I dunno… like our souls know each other. That’s how I feel.” I shrug, crossing my hands under my chin and looking at him. 

“Hmm” he says. “Do you believe in past lives?” He asks and I nod “for sure. And future ones. I don’t think we can learn everything in one go that our souls need” I shrug and he nods a bit. “We need to talk more about this when I don’t have a pounding headache from being so overtired” he said softly and I pout, “c'mon let’s walk home.” I said and headed back to the office to grab my things. 

“I just have to go to the back and get my stuff gimme a few” he said from the kitchen. I waited by the island, shawl back on and bag on my shoulder. When he comes back out, my breath gets caught in my throat. Hes wearing delicious light grey sweatpants, blue Nike sneakers, and a plain white champion hoodie. As he lifted his arms to put his backpack on, the hoodie rode up, revealing his tight, toned stomach, and deep, deep V line. I lick my lips, imagining myself on my knees worshiping his god-like figure and he clears his throat. 

I looked up again, realizing he completely caught me red handed checking him out like the hottest new library book and I felt my cheeks heat, giving a shy smile. “Ready?” He asked and I nod “ready” I said meekly, mentally face palming for my lack of discretion. “Y’know it’s not a bad thing to check me out, right? I guess for earlier you can call us even” He asked as we walked down the hallway and I nearly tripped over my own feet at the boldness. “Fuck you” I roll my eyes playfully and he opens the door for me. 

“I’m a little tired right now, but for you? Anything. Your place or mine?” He asked and I laughed, slapping his chest playfully “you are a naughty, naughty little boy” I teased, wrapping my arms around his bicep as we walked. “Just letting you know allll the ways this glorious date could end” he said, a smug smirk on his face and I shook my head, looking at the sidewalk. 

This was so nice. I usually am needing to check behind me every couple steps, am tensing at every noise or stranger I pass, but with Carmen I feel protected. Secure. 

“I’ve never actually been able to enjoy this at night, I’m always looking over my shoulder wondering if I need to get my switchblade out” I chuckle shaking my head. “Switchblade? Damn. Can I see it?” He asks and I nod, digging in my purse and pulling out the pink knife attached with a MyMelody keychain to a can of mace. 

I pulled away from him, hopping a few steps ahead.  “Everybody watch out! I’m a woman that’s armed and dangerous!!” I giggle, clicking the little button and the hello kitty blade swings out with a click. He laughs, and I faced him, waving it around the air in front of me lightly “what’s so funny huh? I’m menacing Carmen, imagine I mugged you right now with a hello kitty knife” I said, causing him to laugh harder, clutching his stomach. 

“Oh my god - please” he snorts in laughter causing me to laugh. “Awww little piggy!!” I teased and he gasps pretending to be offended. “okay! Rude! You better not snort ever or you’ll be the piggy miss” he said making me start laughing again “you are at my mercy right now, sir, have you so easily forgotten?” I gently wave the pewny knife in front of his face. 

“Oh you sweet thing. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He plucks it from my fingers easily, closing it. “Only because I have the strongest little chef in all of Chicago to protect me. My knight in sexy gray sweatpants and a white sweatshirt” I mused, a playful smile dancing on my lips. “Mmm ok we’re getting there. I don’t like the little part, but- we’ll get there” he joked, dropping the knife back in my purse. 

“Oh, yeah?” I said, grabbing his arm again as we continued, our buildings come in to view. One of my hands trains down his arm, slinking my fingers to wrap between his. “Mmhmm” he hummed. 

I stopped again, standing in front of him and wrapping my arms around his neck loosely, standing on my tip-toes even in my heels to reach his ear. “I think that you know, that I know, you’re the sexiest, most hard working, passionate, gentleman - that I’ve ever had the pleasure of having a chance with. And I also think that you know, I have bratty tendencies, and love pulling your chain because I know it gets you going. You wanna know what I’m 100% sure of, though?” My sultry hot breath caused goosebumps to come up on his neck, his hands wrapping around my waist and squeezing gently. “Was’ that baby” he said softly, his voice laced with desire. I lace my fingers in his hair, gently tugging at his frizzy curls from the day. 

“I’m sure that you need a brat. Because what you need, Carmy.” I nibbled at his ear gently. His breath hitches in his throat, biting his lip to silence a soft moan. I wasn’t quite sure where all of this raw confidence and honesty was coming from, likely from the strong drink Carmy had made and my being a lightweight.

 “Is to be able to force someone in their place, and have full unrelinquished control over the entire situation. For someone to give themselves to you, be fully yours. To use. To love. To worship. Whatever you desire. Cause you’re a control freak. But that’s sexy, that’s soo sexy. I love a man who knows what he needs” I place a soft, lingering kiss on his racing pulse point. 

His hands trail down, cupping my ass before squeezing roughly and I moan softly at the contact. His hands were so strong, so large, but somehow the touch was still lacking confidence. “C-can I” he says softly, “can I kiss you, please?” He whispers. I lift my face to meet his, our noses brushing as I rest my forehead on his, looking into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide from both the dark and lust, the only peak of blue being a tiny sliver. 

“That depends,” I said with a smirk adorning my lips, I nuzzle my nose against his gently. “Will you kiss me how you want, Carm? Or how you think I want?” I ask and he licks his lips. “I want to make you happy” he whispers, I twirl a curl at the base of his neck around my finger. “It will make me happy, if you take what you want from me” I whispered. 

Before I could blink, his lips were on mine, kissing me hungrily- a war of tongue and lips, my fingers tightening around his hair and tugging smiling proudly when he moaned into my mouth. His hands trail my skirt, lifting it slightly to massage my backside in his hands wantingly. I let him take me, dominate me, own me in that moment, matching his hot feverish kisses as well as the sweet, gentle ones. We only broke apart to breathe, our chests rising and falling at an equal rapid pace. His lips were slick from our kiss, swollen from the rough encounter. He was beautiful. 

The only sound was the infrequent car passing, or the sound of the crickets that had made their homes in the small patches of grass on the side of the sidewalk that housed the trees. 

“I want you to come to family”

Read Chapter 5 Here!

 

[drabbles-mc]

Curbside Service

Luca x GN!Reader (ft. Marcus)

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: bakery

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: au where Luca runs his own bakery, my beloved. this is retaliatory insanity aimed directly at @narcolini and i simply have nothing else to say about it sksksk.

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @withmyteeth @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

For as much as Luca typically relished the hour or so at the very start of the day that he had to himself, he had to admit that he didn’t quite mind Marcus being there with him. He wasn’t expecting him to want to show up before five—he wouldn’t have blamed him for it either. Luca enjoyed the small hours of the morning because of the silence and peace that they afforded him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Marcus had the same sense of quiet, same calmness about him that was so rare to find in the kitchen. Luca really hadn’t known what to expect when Carmy broached the topic of sending someone his way. The memories of what it was like with Carmy in the kitchen were still clear in the back of his mind, and for as much as he respected Carmy, enjoyed the push that he got from him to be better, Luca was still painfully aware of the energy that he carried with him. He’d been preparing for more of the same, would do it gladly if it was Carmy asking, but he couldn’t deny the relief in him when he met Marcus and felt the easy-going energy he seemed to exude.

“Chef,” Marcus said in greeting as he passed through the kitchen.

Luca nodded, not looking up from his measurements as he listened to Marcus stroll by him to go and put his things away. “Morning, Chef.”

That was all the two of them said for a bit. Marcus came back out, tying his apron into place as he did. He found his place beside Luca and picked up right where Luca was leaving off. It was a routine that they’d found themselves getting comfortable in over the last few days. They would do their work, soak up the peace and quiet. Every now and then they’d chat, but it always felt purposeful when they did—it wasn’t just for the sake of filling the silence.

“Make up the next batch of these, Chef?” Luca asked, wiping his hands on his apron as he got ready to move onto the next part of his daily prep.

Marcus nodded, knowing that the question was only phrased as such to be polite. “Yes, Chef.”

He stepped away, making his way over to where he knew all of the baking supplies were kept. He didn’t have it memorized the same way that he did at The Beef—The Bear, but for how short his time there had been he was doing alright. He scanned the shelves, going back and raking over them again when he didn’t see what he was looking for, then once more even slower when the second through yielded no results. He didn’t want to ask for assistance if the answer was looking him in the face.

When he was fairly certain it just wasn’t there, Marcus took a deep breath. “Chef?”

“Yea?”

“Um. You guys got a secret back room you forgot to tell me about?”

Luca chuckled. “Why’s that?”

“Because if you don’t, we’re out of flour.”

The kitchen was silent for a moment as Luca stopped what he was doing and made his way over to Marcus. For five long seconds it was just the two of them looking at the empty storage shelves. Marcus felt himself tensing up, not knowing how this was going to end up. He knew how this would end up playing out in Chicago, but they were a long ways away from there now.

“Well,” Luca let out a quiet laugh, “looks like we’re out of flour, then.”

The genuine ease in his voice made the tension instantly disappear from Marcus’s shoulders. He laughed, too, before jokingly saying, “Guess we should just close up?”

Luca laughed a little harder at that. “Yea, quit while we’re ahead.” He shook his head. “I’ll make a call in a bit. Been too busy—didn’t realize the delivery hadn’t come through yet.”

Marcus nodded. “Heard.” He paused. “Now what?”

Luca shrugged. “Onto the next.” He nodded towards the doors that led out into the customer side of the bakery. “You can start on front of the house.”

He agreed without hesitation, the way that he always did in the kitchen. “Yes, Chef.”

Luca kept a loose eye on the clock while he did whatever else he could of the prep for the day. The delay was going to put them behind, but not in any way that wasn’t going to be manageable. In the back of his mind he was aware that the people who filtered in and out of the shop most likely wouldn’t even notice as long as there was something in the display case.

When it was finally late enough, he pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. Scrolling through his contacts, he made it down to the list of miscellaneous vendors he’d collected over the years. Once he dialed, he leaned back against the counter, phone pinned to his ear as he watched the timer ticking down on the oven.

“Hello?” you answered, sounding frazzled even though the day had hardly gotten started. It was going around, apparently.

“Hey, uh, sorry,” Luca didn’t recognize the voice, and for a moment he thought he’d called the wrong number. It took him a moment to recover and say, “Just calling about a delivery.”

“Okay, sure. What about it?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Never showed up.”

“Shit,” you said before you could stop yourself. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand, not that he could see you do it. “Sorry. Sorry.”

He smiled, not that you could see it. “It’s alright.”

“Okay. Right. Sorry.” You were trying to get your papers together, dig through the mess of a situation that had been left behind on the desk in the office. “Give me a second to get…get it together.” You heard him let out something between a hum and a laugh, but he didn’t say anything in response. Giving you the second you’d asked for, you assumed. Taking a deep breath, you finally said, “Alright. Sorry about that. What delivery were you looking for?”

The two of you went back and forth for a minute. You asked him some basic questions as you went through the papers, the orders that were pulled up on the computer screen in front of you. Then, sure enough, you found what you were looking for—a delivery that was supposed to have happened two days prior.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you said, pressing the heel of your free palm against your forehead. “Raf’s out and it threw a wrench into everything and his office is a mess so I’ve been trying to figure it out and some stuff, clearly, went through the cracks.”

“It’s alright. Blame it on Raf, yea?”

You laughed, feeling a little relieved at the ease with which he was handling the situation, but still anxious underneath it all. “Believe me, I will.” Leaning back in your chair, you tried to think about what your schedule looked like for the day. “I can run it over now?”

“What?”

“The flour. I can run it over to you if that works.”

“I can send my—”

“It’s fine. We usually bring it to you anyway. That’s,” you chuckled nervously, “that’s kind of the whole point, yea?”

Luca was nodding even though you couldn’t see him. Part of him wanted to say not to worry about it, that clearly you’ve got enough shit on your plate to try and handle. But he also knew that if the roles were reversed, he would be offering to do the same thing.

“Right. You have the address?”

“Um,” you looked over the order form on the screen, “yes.”

“See you in a bit, then.”

You let out a short sigh, glad that things didn’t implode like you thought they were going to when you picked up the phone. “See you in a bit.”

It wasn’t long before Luca heard Marcus calling back to him from the front of the bakery. “Chef?”

“Yea!” Luca called back as he started walking towards the door, fairly certain what it was about.

“Someone’s pulling up?”

“Yea,” Luca said with a laugh as he walked out of the kitchen and into retail side of the bakery, “the person letting you get the rest of your prep done, Chef.”

Marcus’s eyes widened slightly as he quickly started to follow in Luca’s footsteps, hardly even a stride behind him. Luca flipped the lock and pushed the glass doors of the bakery open. Reaching, he used his foot to drag out the doorstop to prop open the door on one side, Marcus taking the cue to do the same on the other.

“Wow,” you said with a laugh as you hopped out of the delivery van, “all hands on deck, huh?”

Luca flashed a quick grin as you strode up to him. “Make your life a little easier.”

Your brows furrowed for a moment as you registered the voice. “Luca? We spoke on the phone?”

“That was me,” he held his hand out for you to shake as he nodded towards the other man who had walked out with him, “And that’s Marcus.”

The morning had been such a whirlwind that until you felt the firm grasp Luca had on your hand, the warmth seeping from his palm into yours, your brain hadn’t slowed down enough to even register who you were really looking at. But then your eyes locked with his and every racing thought in your brain came to a screeching halt.

He broke off the handshake, an easy smile on his face as he nodded towards the van. “Thanks for this.”

“Yea, yea,” you worked harder than you should’ve had to just to get another word out, “no problem. Sorry,” you laughed nervously, “sorry it didn’t get here two days ago.”

Then it was just the two of you standing there. The concept of time was completely lost on you. It could’ve been seconds or hours as far as you were concerned. The only thing that alerted you to time passing at all was the sound of Marcus clearing his throat as he stood in the doorway of the bakery.

“These going in the usual spot?” he asked Luca, bag of flour held securely in his arms.

Luca looked back at him for a brief moment, nodding. “Yes, Chef. Thank you.”

Once Marcus nodded in understanding, Luca turned right back to you. You found yourself shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans just to keep from fidgeting with them. This was just supposed to be a quick delivery, and another quick apology, but now it felt like you couldn’t move.

“Raf’s out?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Yea.” You looked at Luca, saw the traces of concern on his face, and you shook your head. “Oh, don’t feel bad for him. He got hurt doing something stupid with his mates over the weekend. Messed up,” you gestured to your leg, “his entire shit.”

Luca chuckled, as much at your explanation as at your annoyance. You made it look good, somehow. “Left you holding the bag?”

You held your arms out. “Looks that way.”

“Still made it, though,” he said with a half-grin, like he was trying to soften the blow of it all for you.

“Two days late,” you said, almost like a joke even though it was the truth, “but we got here.”

You were vaguely aware of the fact that Marcus was still making trips back and forth with the bags of flour. You knew that you should let Luca go. You’d already put them behind schedule enough for not getting them what they needed when they actually needed it. But Luca didn’t seem like he was in that much of a hurry and if he wasn’t rushing off neither were you. You’d be willing to let the rest of your manager’s business crumble for a bit if it meant standing out on the sidewalk in the grey light of the early morning talking to a baker whose hair couldn’t have looked that good when he woke up in the morning.

“You’re not new,” he said it like a statement, but there was an unsaid question in there somewhere. He shook his head. “Never seen you, though.”

You shrugged. “Usually in the warehouse.”

“All the heavy lifting.”

Marcus butt into the conversation for a moment. “Least someone does the heavy lifting.”

You couldn’t stop the chuckle that slipped past your lips. You covered your mouth with your hand, like that would unmake the sound. Neither of them gave you time to wonder if there was tension there, because Luca smiled and Marcus laughed.

“Be there in a minute,” Luca called over his shoulder. Even not knowing him, you could tell that there wasn’t any sense of urgency to his voice. It would be more than a minute.

Marcus mumbled something under his breath. It was too muffled for you to hear, but Luca must’ve, because the slick grin on his face got a little wider. Whatever mumbled shorthand they’d developed was effective. You watched Luca shake his head.

“I don’t wanna hold you up,” you said. It was a formality, of course—you’d hold him up all day if he let you.

He shook his head, the lack of hesitation almost making you want to believe him. “No, you’re good. It’s alright.”

You tilted your head, cocking one eyebrow. “Is it?”

“We’re already behind, you know?”

You laughed. “That makes it alright?”

He shrugged. “A bit.”

You wanted to say that you hated how the way he was looking at you made your whole face feel hot, heat creeping down the column of your throat despite the cool morning air. You wanted to hate it, wanted to think it was ridiculous because it absolutely was, but you didn’t. You watched him run his hand over all the patchwork tattoos that he had and you knew that you would waste away the entire day right there on the sidewalk. Waste his entire day too.

“When’s Raf back?” he asked.

You huffed, shaking your head. “Who fucking knows?” You laughed but you really didn’t have any idea.

“Then back to the warehouse, yea?”

“Hope so—his office gives me anxiety just thinking about it,” you said, chuckling at the truth of it.

“Organized chaos.”

“Nothing organized about it,” you fired back, trying not to laugh because the state of that room really was beyond the reaches of your nightmares.

You didn’t know why it felt so easy. You didn’t know what was so disarming about him. It wasn’t even seven in the morning and his apron already had steaks going down it, probably the last of the flour that they had before running out because of the delivery you hadn’t made yet. No on in their right mind should look as ready and happy about the day as he did, but there he was anyway. Mellowed out and positive in the face of it all.

“You should come by again,” he said, tone level in a way that you wouldn’t have been able to achieve if the roles were reversed.

It sent a jolt through you but you tried to keep it together. “I’ll come through on time next time, at least,” you joked.

The ends of his mouth lifted into a tiny smile. “No, I mean just come by. Stop in. Doesn’t have to be at six in the morning.”

“But I get all your undivided attention this way,” you said, shocking yourself with how easily it rolled off your tongue. You hoped your face didn’t convey the surprise you felt.

If he picked up on it, he didn’t say anything about it. He let out a quiet laugh. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Your heart was pounding against the confines of your ribcage but you somehow managed to keep your voice level. “Right.”

There was the sound of one of the doors to the bakery clattering shut. Both you and Luca looked at the van to see Marcus lifting one of the last two bags of flour from the back of it. His gaze was fixed directly onto Luca as he said, “Last bag is yours, Chef. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Luca caught the way that Marcus’s serious façade cracked at the last minute, a grin on his face as he stepped into the bakery. Luca laughed as he called after him, “Thanks, Chef!”

You cleared your throat, trying to knock the dazed look off your face because you were certain it was painfully evident. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”

Luca nodded as he looked at you. “Alright, yea.” His eyes scanned over you and you tried not to think too much about the way that his smile grew just a little wider.

“Good luck with the heavy lifting,” you said with a laugh, white knuckling the keys in your pocket like they would keep you present in the moment rather than getting lost in the imaginary future scenarios that you were already conjuring up in your head.

“I think I’ll be alright,” he joked as he stepped over and grabbed the bag from the back of the van.

It was shameless and you knew it, the way your eyes shot straight to his arms. But he started it, right? He looked first. Fair was fair. When your eyes finally made their way back to his face the smirk pulling at his lips said everything that his words never would. He was a gentleman for that at least.

“You’ll be back though, right?” he asked.

You knew that he had the answer to that question already just from the look in his eyes. You indulged him by saying it out loud, though. Maybe you were indulging yourself too. “’Course, yea. Starting at six AM, right?”

He laughed, taking another step backwards towards the door. “I actually get here closer to four, if you’re ever—”

“I’m never,” you cut him off with a laugh. You shook your head, getting yourself together for a moment. “I’ll see you, Luca.”

He laughed, nodding. “See ya.”

He was inside and the bakery door was shut and locked behind him again before you even managed to put the van in drive. You gave the place one more look through your sideview mirror before finally pulling away. You would be shaking your head at yourself for the rest of the day, for sure. But it’d be worth it. Going back would be worth it too.

Luca strolled into the kitchen, not saying anything as he went to put the last of the delivery away.

Marcus was shaking his head as he worked his way through the prep that Luca had decided to put off just a little while longer. He wanted to try and sound annoyed but he started laughing before he could take a good stab at it. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Luca was laughing too as he found his spot next to Marcus. “You had this under control just fine.”

“Like you’d know,” Marcus joked. “Too busy out there talking and not helping me with the two tons of flour you ordered.”

“Want me to pretend to be sorry?” he asked, laughing still.

Marcus shook his head. “Fucker.”

“Come on,” Luca feigned a serious tone, “Get to it—we’re behind on prep.”

The silence between them only lasted for another second before they both broke back down into laughter again.