The Bear Fx - Tumblr Posts

your honor, i love him

gofastboatsmojito, all one word <- click for my strange currencies fic

I got an account for AO3! I will be combining my various parts of ‘strange currencies’ that I write on tumblr into chapters for the series there.

Carmy + the fridge guy

Listen, I love me the idea of sydcarmy, but that’s not going to stop me from being wholly obsessed with this scene.

The palm kiss? The enveloping hug? The peppering kisses over each others faces?????

baby boy needs to be protected at all costs

(meme edit done by my fellow carmy girlie who doesn’t have tumblr)

Feels like armor.

streets ahead

brain? rotted all day, chef

im just always thinking bout carmen and sydney and the bear and the whole staff because it’s just who i am now. 

so i have in my head that im a decent writer and maybe i should share some of my writing with more than my five friends. and im just putting some of these thots down so maybe itll encourage me to actually do it. it would actually be so much better than this i hope, but heres some half baked part of it.

what if claire didnt happen and it was someone else? (cause i still love the idea of carmy learning how to be a soft bf eventually) a friend of syds. they met at CIA, became friends because theyre both from chicago. shes a bit aloof, changes her mind about what she wants to do with her life on a whim. shes been fondly nicknamed birdie by her family for always being ‘in the wind’. (? this is because i dont wanna name her but dont wanna use y/n and might switch around POVs idk yet.)

anyways - her and syd have kept in touch casually, she ends up back in chicago for some family reasons and decides to look up her old friend to check in on her, this new spot syd’s been working on with some partner that she’s explained as being sometimes an asshole but a genius in the kitchen. 

birdie meets this partner amid an apparent meltdown over something she isn’t clued in on, maybe she shouldve called syd first before dropping in to see if her friend was busy, but she was in the neighborhood running another errand so she doesnt see the harm. sydney looks surprised, confused, and apologetic in the span of a few seconds it takes for her to recognize her friend when she stepped in past the paper covered front door. 

“birdie?” - “syd! hi, sorry, I guess this is a bad time?” - “No, well, yeah, but it’s - it’s fine. what are you doing here? and why aren’t you in new york?” the two exchange a few words when sydney closes the distance between them, offering a brief hug and not offering to introduce her to the chaos that she walked in on. birdie cant help but look though, to take in the scene. and when she does she realizes that agitated partner of hers has frozen in place for just a beat and his gaze is zeroed in on them -or on syd. its almost unnerving. how can someone be so fucking intense? maybe it was the way his brows were still furrowed or that the blue in his eyes stood out like a beacon. either way, it has her casting sydney a knowing look, ‘partner’ hm, shed put a pin in that to ask what was up with him later. 

meanwhile syd returned that look back to her friend, because while she knew most of carmy’s looks, she’d never seen him look at anyone how he was looking at them now - or rather, how he had been staring at birdie. it must’ve only been a few seconds -but felt like a lifetime- before he dragged his attention back to fak and the reason why he’d been popping off in the first place. and before things exploded again, sydney was herding her old friend back outside with suggestions to get together that night. when it wasnt a bad time.

and thaaaat is where my brain is at, simmering away at this idea. and whether or not i should turn it into something. or just let it rot away.  id probably get in some first person pov, or ‘you’ pov. and from carmys end, too. a little back and forth? because i love men written by women and i am really good at that. and maybe ill come up with some better nickname for the girl or maybe not. idk

i guess this part here will be a little bit of a master list for the fic i have named ‘strange currencies’ but not really for now. until i figure out whats going on here. 

i went ahead and did a lil something here (ep 1) from carmys pov of his day up until this point  heres ep 2, a bit of ‘birdie’ and then some syd/carmy pov.  and ep. 3 is out, with some birdie and syd love 

strange currencies | carmy x fem!character

maybe take a peek at this first, a little something of an intro to whatever this is going to turn out to be.

|| summary ; in the middle of a stressful afternoon for carmy, sydney gets a surprise visitor. - this is from carmy's pov to start us off. additional parts will switch between him and the fem!reader pov

|| setting/timeline ; this picks up during the remodel of the beef into the bear, probably a few weeks in give or take. and who knows how far it'll go. Ill be sure to add notes if the timeline skips ahead or goes back. I also don't think there will be many season 2 spoilers, I may mention some things/scenarios that do come up but i don't plan to add anything that would ruin s2 for anyone. || warnings ; swearing, arguing/shouting, carmys pov, general stress, not proof-read or anything special

|| word count ; 1,096

An alarm is going off and it won't stop going off for what seems like forever. 'Is that in my head?' Maybe, probably definitely. Carmy was dreaming, though some would call it a nightmare, about The Bear, the renovations, the absolute clusterfuck it had all turned into.

That fucking alarm did not stop.

'Riche would you cut that fuckin' thing off I can't even hear myself think!' That was Jimmy, fucking Jimmy.

'It's go fast boats mojito, all one word.' Richie's triumphant when he gets off the phone.

Sydney and Sugar sigh in relief, Jimmy seems to relax, too, 'Now, can I tell you a story of a complete and utter failure?'

Carmy doesn't understand why any of them seem chill when he can still hear the alarm blaring, echoing between his ears, and it should drive him crazy but he doesn't mind it.

The alarm. The alarm, the alarm, the alarm. "Shit- oh, fuck-" Blue eyes fly open, arm flinging out to reach the clock on the bedside table, hand slapping the snooze button in the dark. 6 AM. Carmy might've been bright-eyed but he was never bushy-tailed in the mornings. Not when he rarely went to bed before midnight, not when he slept for shit most nights. The dreams never stopped. Some of them even lead to him sleepwalking, which is totally fucked. Who does that?

His morning routine was simple, straightforward. That was one thing Carmy could generally count on despite the shitshow that was everything else lately. Wake up, shower, get dressed, try to eat something, brush his teeth, attempt to tame his hair, then promptly fuck it up before he'd walk out the door by the sheer number of times he ran his fingers through it. Everything else that happened after he left his apartment had become a totally different story. Actually, everything else, since he'd come back to Chicago, since Mikey, had felt like a derailment from the life he had figured out for himself.

It was no surprise that Carmy wasn't alone at The Bear for very long before Sydney showed up, Sugar a short time after, then the rest of the family filtered in as the morning ticked on. He stood next to Syd in front of the three calendar months they'd taped to the wall. Their schedule that's surrounded by permits, checklists, edits in the margins, so many fucking sticky notes, and "motivational" add-ins like 'fuck my fucking life'.

A six-month project that they had to squeeze into three. A timeline that was confident - cocky - actually crazy.

Every second counts.

To everyone except Richie apparently, who doesn't roll in til after noon. "Yo, what's goin' on ya fuckin' replicants?" Still wearing one of his many 'The Beef' shirts, in his track pants and stupid sunglasses. Carmy's jaw tenses, biting back a retort before greeting him with a lackluster "Cousin" as he passes by and into the office to talk to Sugar. Permits, so many fucking permits. And money. How did everything cost so much god damn money? Blue eyes linger on the half-assed 'budget' he'd written in sharpie on the inside of an empty pizza box a couple weeks ago while his sister reminds him of the million and one things they needed to do before they could ever start with the real renovations.

The facelift that Fak keeps insisting is not only a facelift but an actual gut based on all the shit they might have to actually tear out to make this place into what he and Syd envisioned it could be. The project that he'd very stupidly said they could do in six months, which really needed to be done in three because if they weren't up, running, and turning enough profit within eighteen months they were fucked.

"That's a CP," Sugar and Syd had told him in near unison when he'd asked what they could do about the timeline he had given Jimmy. "What's a CP?" - "A Carmy problem." - "Right, fuck - okay, heard."

Sydney appeared in the doorway doing her best to not look pissed off, but it was clear she was flustered by the way she spoke, "Carm- can you, like, I dunno, come fucking do something about Richie? He' won't stop arguing with Fak and just getting in the way." "Yeah, yeah, I'll be-" Before he could finish his sentence Fak's voice echoed through the restaurant, "MOOOMM!" Sugar cringed, letting out an exasperated sigh as she got to her feet and the three of them went to see what they were yelling about.

Some shit about moving lockers and scraping the paint from the walls, and who the fuck knows what else because Richie and Fak were all but shouting over each other. Marcus held his hands up in mock surrender because he didn't know what the hell to do about them. Sugar tried interjecting and Richie's going on about 'Alphas' and pheromones and "Cousin - What the fuck do you even know about pheromones?" Carmy's brows were furrowed, hands gesturing in annoyance as he spoke, "Seriously, can just one of you explain what the problem is here?" His attention slid to Fak in hopes he could get a straight answer out of him but it's not even a beat before he's opening his mouth and Richie is talking over him again, then they're both shouting over one another and "Both of you shut the fuck up!"

And they did. Everyone did, actually. But not because they had been told to, it was because the front door had opened and someone had stepped inside. A few emotions flashed over Sydney's face as she took in the stranger, "Birdie?" - "Syd!" Or maybe not stranger? Carmy turned to see who it was, blue eyes narrowing on the pair, briefly flickering over to the girl Syd was talking to, hugging, even. So they knew each other, might've even been friends.

He didn't know her, couldn't know her, right? But something familiar about the girl tickled some dark, forgotten corner of Carmy's brain. Birdie. Birdie, birdie, birdie... Then their eyes met, seconds ticked on for what felt like an hour, and Oh.

He blinked at her, seemingly checking back into himself, then ran a hand through his hair before he shifted his attention back to Richie and Fak because there was no fucking way that was the same girl. Although, Syd had mentioned New York, and how many girls that went by Birdie could there be?

Carmy didn't know, and he definitely didn't have time to think about it. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

a/n; this was fun, let's do it again sometime soon. hope whoever does take the time to read this enjoys it, and ill see ya on the next one. (which will be done from the fem!readers pov) ps. ive been writing for fun for a long time, but this is my first time posting anything like this for more than my five friends that i enjoy writing with, so hopefully my formatting will get better as i figure out tumblr for this.

strange currencies ep.2 | carmy berzatto x fem!reader

|| summary ; you're back in chicago after what feels like eons, you drop in to visit sydney, who you met when you both went to cia, it was apparently not a good time judging by how her partner was acting so you make plans to meet later for dinner. (meanwhile, carmy remembers how he knows you.) || warnings ; swearing, the bear s2 casual references, switch to sydney & carmys pov, not really proofread. || ep.1 here if you missed it, the plot premise here if you missed that || word count ; 1,506

You shoved your phone back into your jacket pocket after checking the address one last time, standing across the street from what looked to be a very closed business. Though, Syd had told you they were doing a remodel or something, so it made sense the windows and all would be papered up. You couldn't help but think maybe you should've checked in with your old friend before dropping by, but you hadn't known you were gonna be nearby until literally right before.

"Fuck it," You murmured under your breath, checking the street both ways before hurrying across, hesitating a moment when you reach the door, you were already here. It didn't make sense to back out now, and if she wasn't here then she wasn't here and then you would call her up.

The door's not locked so you tug it open fully and step inside, greeted almost immediately by the sound of some guys arguing and cussing at each other, though you didn't get a glimpse of the scene right away, or at all really. Because before you can get too far into the half wrecked restaurant you look up to see -

“Birdie?” That's not your real name, but it was the only one you gave to the people you met, at least since you were in High School. It was a nickname given to you by your family, and a much better alternative to some other nicknames you'd been given in your younger years. Confusion and surprise seems to conflict Sydney's expression briefly before shifting into something almost apologetic.

"Syd!" You lift your hand in a vague greeting, "Hi, sorry, I guess this is a bad time?”  You rock back on your heels, half smiling half cringing because now everyone's attention is on you, which you normally don't mind. But this felt a little tense and awkward.

“No, well, yeah, but it’s - it’s fine. Um, what are you doing here? and why aren’t you in New York?” Your friend closes the distance between you, wrapping you in a brief but welcome embrace, then doing her best to turn you away from the shitshow you had walked into.

"I was just, sort of, in the neighborhood?" You wrinkle your nose, chuckling lightly, "Sort of, anyways. It's kind of a long story, but, I'm back in Chicago for the foreseeable future." Your smile grows a little, nodding as you try to casually slide your focus to who you assume to be her coworkers, wondering which one was the asshole partner she'd mentioned to you before.

It doesn't take you long to guess, one of the guys was zeroed in on you both - on Syd - and it was almost unnerving. How can someone be so fucking intense? Maybe it was the way his brows were still furrowed or how the blue in his eyes stood out like a beacon. Either way, you find yourself throwing a knowing look at Sydney. 'Partner? hmph' you'd stick a pin in that thought to ask what was up with him later.

You weren't the only one who'd noticed, and just as quick as your friend had caught on to his gaze he was shifting his focus back to the others. Syd mirrored your expression back at you with a lifted brow, 'Is that him?' You mouthed at her, you could've laughed but before you did she was herding you back towards the door. "Okay, so, it was great seeing you, sorry it's not great right this second, but tonight? Yes, tonight, I'm free if you're free, we should grab dinner. Sound good? Great. I'll text you." You don't get a real word in edgewise aside from agreeing to these plans and once you're back onto the sidewalk you do laugh because what the hell was that about? Another thing you'd both definitely need to talk about, you decided, as you made your way to the L.

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

When the door was closed Sydney turned and pressed her back against it, taking a slow breath as she mentally prepared to walk back into whatever Richie and Fak might be fighting about now. And to take a minute to process the fact it had been years since she'd last seen Birdie and how that had been one of the last people she expected to show up here unannounced. She pulled out her phone then, pulling up her contacts and finding her friends number to shoot her a text 'Hey B just making sure you still had my number, I'll let you know when I'm done here for the day.' The phone buzzed back almost immediately, 'Yep, got it! :) cya tonight.' Syd liked the response before tucking her phone back into her pocket and making her way back to the counter to grab her notebook, the moment she walked through to the other room Carmy was there. "Yo, Syd, um, who was-" He backtracked, running a hand through his curls, "-what was that about?" Keeping pace a half step behind her as he followed her. Carmy seemed off and she couldn't help but wonder, as she cast a glance at him over her shoulder when she swept some stray braids to her back, if it had something to do with the way he had been borderline gawking at her friend. "Oh, nothin', just someone I know from CIA. Sorry, I know nobody's really supposed to be coming around while we're doing the remodel, she's not great about giving heads up." "No, yeah, it's all good. Just got a lot of shit goin' on is all," Carmy half shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Sorry - um, what - what did you say her name was again?" His fingers smoothed over the his chin, ghosting the edge of his bottom lip, something of a habit of his when he was thinking too much, nervous, or upset. They all did it, really, each of the Berzattos did a lot of communicating with their hands. "Birdie," Syd replied, an attempt was made to not sound so curt, not wanting to rock the boat when it seemed the waters had finally calmed for the time being. "Did we sort out the deal with the lockers?" She pushed through the door to the back, pausing when she saw Richie, Fak and Marcus wrestling with moving said lockers. "That answers that question, great." She marked off an item from the list on the notebook tucked in her arm. Dark eyes found her partners light ones, a brow lifting curiously, "You good, Carm?" "Yeah, we're good. Look, I gotta run an errand real quick, can you hold down the fort til I get back?" He hardly waited for her agreement before he was brushing past her to grab his jacket out of the office and was out the door. Carmy hadn't had a goal in mind for where he was actually going, it had just been an excuse to get some fresh air so he could have a chance to think for a moment without being bothered. He told himself he did not have time to think about where he knew that girl from, but something totally different told him that he might not be able to not think about it now that he remembered.

Birdie was loud, but not in an obnoxious way, more like she was bright. She seemed cool, firendly in the way that Mikey is - was friendly. His brother had still been alive when Carmy had met her in New York, though they hadn't really been talking then.

It hadn't even been anything between them, she just happened to work the counter at the bodega that he stopped at once in a while on his way to or from work. Then she didn't work there anymore and some time later he saw her again working at the farmer's market he started going to. Then she didn't work there anymore.

He racked his brain because he thought there had been another place he'd seen her around but it wasn't coming to him. To be honest, he was sort of surprised at himself that he even remembered any of this at all because that's how unimportant the interactions had been.

And now, out of the blue, she'd turned up at his restaurant in Chicago and knew his partner - his friend, Syd. Then so many things flooded him in that instant.

Family Christmas five years ago, moving to New York following his cousins invitation, working for a Chef that made him throw up nearly every day, getting the call that Michael was gone.

It's kind of insane how such an insignificant memory can trigger a waterfall of painful ones.

Maybe that was why when he'd finally stopped walking and took in his surroundings he'd found himself standing outside the place where he usually went to Al-Anon meetings.

Exactly what he needed and could make time for.

ep. 3 is out now

THE BEAR social media part 7: happy happy

Some thots about the loml and some of the women in his life

Rewatched ‘fishes’ and it got me thinking how carm is telling donna that she’s not alone he’s right there with her. Then later he’s telling syd she’s not alone.

Like he has these really important women in his life who keep telling him different versions of feeling like he’s abandoning them

His mom first, then even with sugar cause he doesn’t call or text back or try to spend time with her after he gets back from New York

Then with Sydney and their goals for the bear, bailing on her over and over on this project that was *his* dream that she wanted too

And it feels like each time he’s reassuring them he gets closer to truly meaning it.

With Donna it’s clear to me he’s trying to smooth things over, appease her so she doesn’t flip shit, he’s trying to maintain the peace

With sugar he does eventually try to see it from her side and that she’s trying to be there for him but she needs him too because she also lost a brother and he’s acknowledging he wasn’t there the way he should be

And then with syd , she’s feeling like she can’t trust her partner in these goals they shared after he had made it seem like he was in it and she was doing so much on her own and when she did finally talk to him about it he actually pushes her to say more and be honest with him so he can reciprocate and be there for her

Then there’s Claire and Claire didn’t really need him to be there for her. She’s never really needed him the way others have. So it was just easy to ‘be there’ and sort of avoid having to actually show up for the others and what he needed to be responsible for even though he knows that’s where he’s actually needed.

strange currencies ep.3 | sydney adamu and carmy berzatto x fem!reader

|| summary ; you're still a little unsure how to feel about that whole meet n greet with sydney and the staff of the soon-to-be bear. but thats okay because you're seeing her later for dinner and you plan on weaseling all the details out of her before the night's over. || warnings ; swearing, casual drinking, casual social media stalking, talk about hooking up/sex (gossipy), reader pov, some carmy pov, some syd pov. still not proof read cause im me || word count ; 2,860 || in case you missed it ; premise , episode 1 , episode 2 , AO3 version if youre into that

You're camped out in a corner seat on the L train, one foot propped up, the other touching the floor, as you casually watch the passengers exit and then enter at the current stop. You're replaying the scene from The Beef - The Bear ? - still thinking you should have let Sydney know you were going to show up before you did. Mostly because she seemed so thrown off due to the fact you'd forgotten to even mention to her before that you were coming back to Chicago for a time. You were never good at that.

The L rattles to life, launching off from the station and back on it's way North in the direction of where your family lives, having taken one of your parent's guest rooms hostage during your stay since it was free compared to paying for a hotel or airbnb. Of course, they didn't mind. They were actually over the moon for you to be home, despite the somewhat dire circumstances of your reason for coming. You blinked, shaking the negativity from your mind for the time being as you lift your phone up to check for any other texts from Syd, or anyone else for that matter.

John Mayer's voice serenades you through your airpods, 'I'm not a fallen angel, I just fell behind. I'm out of luck and I'm out of time'. Your head bobs a little in time with the song, having forgotten how much you liked it when it came out, you let yourself hum along. Still, it doesn't get your mind off Syd, or her partner and was she really so oblivious to how he was staring through the damn girl's soul from across the room? You snort a soft laugh under your breath just before an idea strikes you, why not do a little recon on your friend, The Bear, her partner. You've got time, a good thirty minutes before your stop.

Instagram is loading on your phone a beat later, you type in Sydney's account and this is where your search begins. Fortunately, your friend does like to post the occasional updates to her life. Usually it's food, sometimes places, and it's like the first clue is gift wrapped right there for you in the second row of pictures. You tap the image and the post pops up.

Well, this should help. You first skim the comments which are full of praise and support, so you take a mental note of the names and profile pics in hopes one might stick out. You do notice a recurring theme from a few comments, 'let it rip'. Jeff? Who's Jeff? You chuckle to yourself, figuring whoever made these comments must be staff members which is relevant to your search. Though, none of them are the guy you're looking for so you switch to scrolling through the likes.

Right there near the bottom nestled between a fakattack and sugarbearzatto you see c.berzatto. Then it starts coming back to you, Syd had told you his name before, "Carmy, that was it," you muse aloud as you tap the username and are presented with a very anticlimactic private profile with a picture of a beautifully plated dish for the users icon. Guess this was a dead end. You furrow your brow, rolling your lips together in annoyance. You backtrack to Sydney's profile and resign yourself to scrolling through her posts and your timeline for the remainder of the train ride. Maybe something else would come to you, otherwise you'll have plenty of questions for Syd.

----------

Carmy smooths his clammy palms down the tops of his thighs before crossing his ankle over his knee and lifting his gaze to look out at the others sitting in the circle. It wasn't that he didn't want to be here, or didn't like it. There was just something always a little unnerving about opening up these littles doors to himself, his mind and his past, at these meetings. It had been hard at first, was still tricky sometimes to find the words he wanted to say, but once he got going he would find a flow and follow it until he poured enough out onto the proverbial floor of his life to feel some sort of release. At least this was a floor he didn't have to clean so meticulously. However, he needed to do better about not sweeping so much of his shit under the rug. One problem at a time.

"I have to - I have to remind myself to be present, sometimes. Y'know, remind myself that the sky is not falling," Blue eyes lift to the ceiling for a beat before drifting back down, he seems to look somewhere but never directly making eye contact with anyone. "That there is no other shoe... which is extremely difficult because there is always another shoe." There's a few scattered chuckles, murmurs of agreement and understanding, Carmy grazes his fingers along his brow, down his temple and gives the barest of nods, thumb grazing his bottom lip before he continues.

He ends by thanking them for letting him share, as they all do for each other. And he is thankful to be there, to have given this outlet a chance thanks to Sugar's insistence that it would help all those months ago. And it has. It's not a cure-all, but it's better than a band-aid, better than ignoring his problems, better than sweeping them under the rug. One step at a time.

----------

Night has taken over the city, the moon is bright but the stars are a little absent due to Chicago lights and the gauzy clouds lingering in the sky. It still feels busy despite nearing nine because it's Thursday, almost the weekend, and you're walking up to Pequod's Pizza and it's always busy around here. You see Sydney before she sees you, she's staring down at her phone and something tells you she's probably been there for a bit waiting on you, even though you both agreed on nine.

She was always early, which made you being on-time feel like you were actually late. For a second you're transported back to New York, back to C.I.A., back to the mornings you were hustling into class after downing the last of your espresso while Syd was already at her station, changed into her uniform, reviewing notes or sharpening her knives, and overall being far more ready for the day than you could ever imagine being. Some things never change.

"Syd!" You call out once you're across the street, a skip in your step when you're within range and there's no hesitation as you pull her into your embrace. "Hey Birdie," She coos, then she holds you out at arm's length, hugging you briefly again and then letting you go. "I'm glad you could make it," Her smile brightens and so does yours. "Me too, not that I had anything else to do, y'know, but yeah. This is gonna be great." You're already moving to the door, holding it open for her and following her in.

Of course, she'd set up a reservation for you both, which you were silently thankful for because it looked pretty packed in here and because of Syd you got to sit down almost right away. You didn't even need to look at the menu, "The way I'm about to demolish some deep dish, so sick of paper-thin city pizza. It's cheap but that's about its only real redeeming quality." Your friend couldn't help but shake her head, laughing a little at your enthusiasm.

A server comes around to take your orders, Sydney gets a coke, neither she nor her dad drinks, and you choose a beer because pizza and beer are classic, so why not? You both pick a pizza to split between you. She rests her chin into her hand a moment as she seems to look you over, tilting her head just so like she's thinking, "Soo, you gonna tell me why you're back in Chicago yet or you just wanna keep me in suspense?"

Right to the chase. She was always good at that, never the type to beat around the bush about things. You sigh, smiling slightly, "Can't it just be to see one of my closest friends from culinary school?" She shook her head, seeing right through you, "C'mon B, what's actually going on?" She knew you'd never talked about coming back home to Chicago, it just wasn't on your radar. You liked New York, even though you didn't care much for the pizza, you loved the city, the energy and atmosphere, and so much more about it.

Sydney eyed you, leaning in just a little in hopes of imploring you to give something. You meet her gaze and sigh, what were you supposed to say? In the grand scheme of things it wasn't that you and her had ever been the best of friends, but you'd connected during school and while you were vastly different in terms of behaviors or manners, you both shared a take-no-shit attitude. Though, the basis of your friendship had really veen centered around food, you knew a little about each others families but it had been simple things that had been shared in passing moments. Never any sort of deep dive into each others' lives, even less since you'd both parted ways for your individual journeys some time ago.

"Just some family stuff," You eventually concede, the thought of sharing about your grandmother actually made your throat wanna close up. Talking about it made it very real, and you hadn't decided you were ready for that yet. Fortunately, the server had come back around with your drinks, asking if you needed anything else, updating you on the time for your pizza. It was enough to distract and give you an opportunity to deflect once you and Sydney were alone again.

"I wanna hear about The Beef - The Bear? It looked pretty wrecked in there today," You bite back a soft laugh when Sydney shakes her head, holding your glass up in cheers before taking a swig. "The Bear, yeah, yeah, it is wrecked right now. But its a process. We have a vision. And even though Carm's budget is ass, and most the guys on the project are not professionals.. I- I think we can pull it off," Syd gave an affirming nod that wasn't all that convincing. "As long as we're not lookin' at another Sheridan Road, right?" You tease, or try to, hopeful that the heartache of that implosion for your friend had mostly passed by now. "Oh, fuck off, B," Syd snorted, "Hey! I'm just sayin," You retort back, both of you devolving into laughter.

You settle, helping yourself to another sip of beer, running your fingertip around the rim of the glass when you set it down, "What about your partner, then, Carmy? You really wanna get tangled up in somethin' this big with him when according to you he's kind of a piece of shit?" Sydney's eyes widened for half a beat, clearly having forgotten she'd vented to you about that nightmare of a day, she waved her hands dismissively, "No, no, I mean - yes, okay he is an ass sometimes. He just - he's, um, particular about shit. Which is good, because you don't get where you are by not giving a shit. Which he does. He's an excellent chef, like incredible, Birdie. Just wait til you get to try literally anything he's made. It's kind of mind-blowing, I'd probably hate him if he was my competition."

Sydney goes on and on about him and it becomes glaringly obvious she must be just as obsessed with him as he is with her. Because thinking back to her even choosing to work at The Beef, it didn't make sense. The place was run down, on it's last legs, but she'd been all about it. Or maybe just all about him. You smile at her across the table, she smiles back and no wonder he couldn't stop staring at her earlier. She's gorgeous and clever, equally a genius in the kitchen. He'd be stupid to not be obsessed with her.

The pizza arrives at the table and you both devour it, taking moments between bites and drinks to reminisce on C.I.A. and New York, how you've probably hopped around at least five other jobs since you graduated because you haven't quite found anything that really calls to you. She tells you more about The Bear, how bad she wants at least one star, their plans for sending some of their staff to culinary school, she pauses looking like she'd just had some wild revelation. "Birdie - do you - would you wanna, look, we need to hire more chefs. You've got the training, you're great in the kitchen even though you say you're not-"

You cut her off before she can even ask, you hold up one finger while you finish a bite of caramelized crust, "Syd, girl, I love ya, but hell no." You shake your head with some finality and she deflates for just a second then recovers, "Just, think about it. Besides, what else are you gonna do while you're here?"

She had a point, but that didn't change your answer. "I dunno yet," You shrug, washing down that last bite with some beer, "I'll figure it out when it comes to me." And that was that.

---------

Birdie deflects, as she often does about some things, and Sydney just shakes her head in defeat, "All right, okay, you win." For now. She wasn't going to give in that easily, because she knew her friend could throw down in the kitchen even though she tries to claim it was not her 'calling'. Maybe it wasn't, but how could she even know when she was notorious for changing her mind about what she wanted to do every few weeks? In the time that Sydney had known her, she'd been through at least a dozen different jobs, and in hindsight, it was a wonder the other girl had even stuck out culinary school through the whole degree.

They continued eating, ordering another round of drinks before the conversation picked up again, "How does your boyfriend feel about you leaving New York?" Sydney had been pretty sure she'd seen some fairly recent post with a guy tagged on her Instagram story, one that seemed lovey-ish. Birdie scoffed, half rolling her eyes, "Oh no, you mean Gal? No, that was.. just a thing, a very short-lived thing, and funny enough I think he got back with his ex Mina like a week ago. The sex was good, I mean good good, but I knew it wasn't gonna be anything legit, he's been off and on with that girl forever. It's cool though, it was fun while it lasted." She shrugs nonchalantly, busying herself with her beer before she props her chin up into the heel of one hand and gives Sydney the look.

"What about you? Anything else you wanna tell me about your partner?" Birdie draws out the word, wiggling her brows at Syd who's brows lift in disbelief, her face heats, creeping right up from her neck and she's glad that part isn't obvious from her complexion. "W-what? You're kidding, right?" She's shaking her head at the other, waving her hands, "First of all, no. Second of all, no. Carm is my business partner and my friend, that's it." Birdie's mouth pops open, her teeth sinking into her lip to hide the grin that broke her expression, "Right, sure, Syd. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

She was off her shit to think she and Carmy were a thing, or anything at all. Why would she even think that after meeting him for like five seconds earlier in the day? It made absolutely no sense to Sydney, and it had her wondering if she needed to cut her friend off from the beer if she was already talking crazy like this after two. "I saw how he looked at you earlier," Birdie quipped, the look on her face like she knew some big secret she was keeping. Sydney wasn't having it, going on to brush off even the suggestion that Carm had been staring at her.

Carmy had definitely not been looking at her, she knew that much for certain. Sydney knew most all of his looks by this point, and the look on his face today when he saw Birdie was a new one. One that Syd couldn't place, and his behavior after, the way he'd asked about her friend then had to rush off only solidified to her that something was definitely up with him and it was because of the girl sitting across from her. The girl who was apparently very oblivious to this fact.

The two finished their dinner without talking about more about boyfriends or partners or Carmy, thankfully. They ended their night with a crushing hug, thanks to Birdie, and promises to make plans again soon when Syd had some free time from the remodel.

Neon Sticky Notes

prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.

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

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.4k+

note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...

warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!

You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.

It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.

By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.

However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.

So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.

Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.

You had an idea.

When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"

"Yeah, all good."

"Sure? Sound outta breath."

"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."

He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."

"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."

"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."

"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.

You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.

The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!

Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!

Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.

Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!

You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.

Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.

When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.

This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.

Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.

Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!

Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.

Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!

Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!

Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!

Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!

Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.

Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!

Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!

Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!

And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully

Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.

The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..

Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!

And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!

Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.

The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.

You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.

"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.

"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.

He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"

"What'd you get?"

"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.

"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.

"Like it?"

"Are these... My hearts?"

He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."

"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"

He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."

"You'd still be Carmy."

"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."

"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."

"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."

You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.

Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.

You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.

Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."

Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.

Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

baby blues |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: two blue lines change all your plans, and carmen doesn't take it well. or how you tell carmen you're pregnant.

read the entire dad!carmen berzatto masterlist here!

contains: language, pregnancy, angst, carmen's an asshole, alludes to past parent trauma, hurt/comfort.

"Shit."

The hiss of your tone bounced off the green tiles of your bathroom, an eerie echo that rang dully through your mind. A reminder that this was all too real, happening right now in front of you- to you.

After weeks of what you thought was a stomach bug- retching at almost anything, exhaustion, aches- you had come to realize it might not just be a virus when you looked at the unopened box of tampons under the sink.

You were late.

A frantic trip to Walgreens, an hour of avoidance out of pure fear, three glasses of water, and two tests later; you were here. Looking at the two mocking blue lines on both tests. You were pregnant.

You called your best friend, Alicia, unsure of who else to confide in. Scared, emotional, overwhelmed, you sobbed into the phone, hand holding your head on the edge of the bed. "Carmen is gonna lose his shit."

"Carmen is not gonna lose his shit." Alicia soothed over your heaving gasps. "He will be fine. You both will be fine. You're married. What's the issue?"

You shook your head, swiping your thumb under your eyes. "You don't... Carmen and I haven't, like, ever really talked about kids." You muttered. It was mostly true. You hadn't really, other than euphoric pillow talk ramblings where you both were just bubbly with love, spilling shared wishes under sheets.

"I thought you said you wanted kids?"

"Yeah, but not now." You sobbed into the phone. "I don't... I don't think I'm ready to be a mom. I'm not gonna be good at that. I don't-I don't know anything about kids! And-And I can barely cook, and- Alicia, I couldn't keep our cactus alive! I killed our fucking cactus, and you think I'm ready for a kid?"

Alicia laughed lightly on the other end. "Ok, true, but you won't kill your kid. You'll be much more attached to it than the cactus." She countered easily, calmly. "And you'll be a good mom, babe. I know you'll be. And Carmen knows too. You know he does. Call your OBGYN and get an appointment. Make sure this is legit and get your vitamins and let me know what you need from me."

Two days later, you were laid on the cool paper at the doctor's office, eyes wide watching her drag the wand over your tummy. Seven weeks. The ultrasound clutched in your hand had an arrow where the baby was, it was still so small. A blip, a splotch right on your plans.

You decided to tell Carmen that night. He knew something was off with you, starting to get more and more suspicious. It was only a matter of time.

"Hey, baby." You grinned as excited as you could when he came home.

"Hey," Carmen chirped, grinning back at you when you kissed him sweetly, a little longer than usual, not that he minded. "How are you doin', baby? Good day?"

"Yeah, it was." You quipped, throat tightening, desperately trying to keep your voice from cracking. "I, uh, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Carmen's brows lifted, dropping his bag by the door. "What kinda surprise, huh? Somethin' under this?" He teased, hand sliding up your shorts, palming at your ass and making you squirm.

You couldn't help the fleeting thought that he wouldn't be able to do that for long. Not when a baby was in the house. Your throat burned with tears at the thought.

"No." You shook your head. "Just... Here, sit right here for me and I'll be right back." You kissed his cheek sweetly, running to the spare bedroom for the ultrasound. You wondered if this would be the baby's nursery. Or maybe upstairs in the makeshift workout room Carmen used. It felt odd planning this type of thing, thinking about this.

Your hands were sweaty, trying not to wrinkle the printed photo. It was your first after all. The first picture of many. Ones you secretly hoped would line the walls of your house. Pictures of the baby, with you and Carmen.

You hoped Carmen would be in them.

That horrid thought always made it's way back into your mind, rattling you to your core.

"Close your eyes." You tried to sing-song, playful and light like you usually would. The kind of tone that was silly, left Carmen grinning and doing what you said. Instead, it sounded tired.

Carmen still covered his eyes anyways. You took a soft breath, placing the photo in front of him. "Ok, y-you can open." You whispered.

Carmen's brow lifted, looking at you carefully before down at the table. He stilled, face unmoving, body halted, eyes zoned in on the ultrasound.

"Wh-What-What is this?" Carmen's tone was hushed, tight, like his chest felt. He was sure this wasn't what he thought it was. It couldn't be.

"I, um, you know I-I've been feeling not great." You started, wringing your hands in front of him. "And I... I haven't had my period in a while, so I went to the store and... and I got a test, and it was..." You motioned down to the ultrasound. "I'm pregnant, Carmen."

The house was still. That same eerie stillness creeping back in, looming over both of you in such a sickening way, it had your stomach twisting.

Carmen blinked, shaky hands picking up the ultrasound, refusing to look at you. "Oh."

"Oh?" You repeated. "Carmen, I-I said I'm pregnant."

"No, no, I, uh, yeah, I-I heard you." Carmen nodded, leg bouncing under the table. "I just... I thought you were on birth control."

"Carmen, what?" You snapped. "I am."

"Then-Then how the fuck-"

"-Oh, don't you fuckin' dare, Berzatto." You hissed, rolling your eyes at him, snatching the ultrasound off the table.

"I'm not fuckin' blaming you, but-but how?" Carmen could feel his heart rate rising, ears ringing and head spinning with that old, familiar feeling of a panic attack coming on.

"How?" You gawked at him. "Carmen, it's not, like, a one-hundred percent guarantee, and-and... Come on, Carmen, we've been fucking a lot lately."

"I don't..." Carmen stopped himself, his hand rubbing over his eyes. Your heart skipped, chest aching with fear when you looked at him. Carmen pushed his chair out, standing and pacing around the kitchen, hands on his hips, lips in a thin line. "I-I need to think. Fuck, I need to think, just-just..."

You tracked him, your own heart hammering loud in your ears. Carmen snatched his cigarettes, hands shaking when he turned them over in his hands slowly. You could practically hear his thoughts, when the baby is here, he can't smoke anymore.

"I need a fuckin' second, ok? I need to fuckin' think!" Carmen boomed, voice thundering off the walls, making you jump. Carmen snatched his lighter and Spirits, stomping out the front door, the slam of the door the last thing you heard before the house settled and stilled again. Your worst possible scenario played out in front of you, becoming a reality too.

You were alone.

"Cousin, can I ask you, what the fuck your fuckin' problem is?" Richie grit, sliding beside Carmen. "The fuck are you being such a jagoff about, right now?"

"I'm being a jagoff?" Carmen snapped, slamming the knife down. His eyes were wild, hair even wilder. Curls matted and sticking out like they did when Carmen was stressed, when he'd ran his hands through them too much.

"Yeah, you're bein' a fuckin' jagoff." Richie countered, voice raising over Carmen's. "You look like shit, you smell like shit, and you're treatin' everyone here like fuckin' shit. So what's the fuckin' issue?"

"Fuck you, Richie, alright? Fuck you. Get the fuck outta my fuckin' face!" Carmen roared, the vein in his neck protruding when he did, sending the few chefs still in the kitchen retreating before they were screamed at next.

"Y'know why don't you just fuckin' calm down? Makin' everyone here fuckin' miserable with your bad attitude. No wonder-" Richie stopped, eyes flicking down to Carmen. His shoulders dropped, sighing heavy at his own revelation. "What'd you do?"

"What? What did I... Fuck off, I'm not in the-"

"-Nah, Cousin. What did you do?" Richie shook his head. "Why's she not here today, huh?"

"I'm right here." Natalie muttered, turning the corner, balancing two cups and a large work bag. "I had to take Chelle to Pete's office so he can take her to dance, and traffic was..." Natalie laughed cynically, shaking her head.

Carmen felt his stomach twist, jaw tightening. That would be you two before you knew it. All over the place, late to shit because of the kid. Just like Sugar and fucking Pete. That made him Pete.

"Not you, but I'm glad to see you. How are you?" Richie muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to Sugar's cheek. "Carmen fucked up."

"I did not-"

"-You fucked up? On what, bear?" Natalie blinked, frowning lightly. "Oh, before I forget, where's my favorite sister in law? I have her-" Richie gave her a pointed look. Sugar stopped, face falling in realization. "Oh, that's... Carm, what did you do?"

"Can you two just fuck off? Fuck!" Carmen roared, kicking a pot under the table.

"Wow, anger issues much?" Sugar rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Is this what you did? Is that why she isn't here?"

"No, Natalie, you're pissin' me the fuck off-"

"Alright!" Richie clapped his hands, cutting them both off. "Family meeting. Ok? Meeting time. Right now."

"I don't have time-" Carmen started, Richie just clapping his hands on his shoulders, shoving him away from the table.

"Natalie, family meeting." Richie waved her in.

"Family meeting?" Fak turned the corner, eyes lit up hopefully.

"Not with you, you fuckin'..." Richie huffed, shaking his head. "Me, Nat, and Carm are having a meeting. Do your jobs, ok? Don't bother us, just... handle it, alright? Thank you. Every second counts and all that bullshit." Richie nodded towards the staff, shutting Carmen's office door behind him.

"Carm, you... Are you ok?" Natalie winced, looking at her younger brother.

Carmen ran his hands over his eyes, slumped in his desk chair, knees bouncing nervously. His breaths labored and ragged in his hands. Richie's eyes cut to Natalie's.

"Cousin," Richie's voice was softer this time. "What is goin' on?"

Carmen took a shaky breath in, Richie stilling at the sound of his emotions. "You... You were right. I fucked up." Carmen muttered. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad." Carmen's voice was tight, thick with tears he was trying to choke back.

Natalie stepped forward slowly. "Carmen, what did you do?" She said as calmly as she could. "Just-Just tell us, and we'll... we'll try and help you."

"Did you cheat on her?" Richie asked, brows furrowed in disgust.

"No, what? Why the... No, no, no, I-I..." Carmen leaned back in the chair, hands knotted in his hair. "She's pregnant."

Richie and Natalie paused, both sighing slightly in relief. "Oh my God, that's great!"

"Yeah, I mean, Cousin, I thought you... I'm glad you didn't, but that's great!"

"Aw, is that why she's been sick? Poor thing. I knew it! You know Pete said that, and I-" Natalie started, Carmen's sudden jerk of his body, sitting in the chair with frantic eyes stopped her.

"I don't know!" Carmen blurted, shaking his head, refusing to look at them. At their furrowed brows of concern. He couldn't face them. Tell them what he'd done.

"You don't know?" Sugar frowned in confusion. "You don't know if she's pregnant?"

"I-I..." Carmen felt his chest tightening, burning with that familiar ache. He tried to breathe in, slow and long, counting back from ten like his therapist told him, but his chest still ached. "I left."

The room filled with that same eerie silence, the one that seemed to be following him around lately. The one that crept into the room when you showed him the ultrasound, the same one that followed him into the restaurant last night.

"You left?"

"You fuckin' what?"

Natalie and Richie gawked, eyes wide and frantic, looking down at Carmen.

"Cousin... What the fuck? You don't... Holy shit." Richie muttered, shaking his head.

"Carmen, have you lost your mind?" Natalie snapped. She was angry- no, furious. "You left your wife? You left your pregnant wife?"

"Yes, fuck, yes, I just... I needed to fuckin' think!" Carmen threw his hands out. "I can't think! She just... We weren't planning it and-and then... I just needed to think!"

"Then think at home! Or-Or with the person you're having a baby with, Carmen, Jesus!" Natalie roared back.

"Cousin, you... you fucked up." Richie said solemnly, nodding in agreement. "I mean, I've done a lot of shit. A lot, ok? Just ask Tiff. But I...I never fuckin' left."

"No, she just fuckin' left you, right? Tiff couldn't take you bein' an-"

"Hey, woah, take it fuckin' easy, Cousin. Watch it. This ain't about me." Richie snarled, finger jabbing in Carmen's direction. "I didn't fuck this up, ok? You did. This is your shit. We're just tryin' to fuckin' help you, so why don't you do all that de-escelatin' bullshit and take a fuckin' breath and relax."

Carmen's teeth ground tight, eyes flickering over to Natalie. "I'm with Richie on this." She snapped. "You did fuck up. Huge."

Carmen could feel the burn, rising in his throat. Was it fear? Vomit? Tears? Regret? All of the above?

"I know, I know, fuck, I know." Carmen muttered, falling back into the chair. "I just... I know, and-and now I don't know..." Carmen could feel his heart rate, waves of guilt and realization crashing over him, leaving him feeling sick.

Carmen stood quickly, hands tangled in his hair, pacing in the small area of the office. "Holy shit, she's gonna leave me. She-She's gonna leave me, and-and... Fuck! Why do I always do this? I always fuck up! Always! Like... What the fuck? Why-Why-"

"-Carmen." Sugar said slowly, hands on his shoulders, stopping him. "Hey, breathe. Breathe. Just... Just relax, ok?"

"No, no, no, I-I can't fuckin' relax. I-I got to-" Carmen rambled, his chest squeezing, burning.

"Carm, look, just... Just do the breathing thing. Listen to Natalie." Richie nodded towards Sugar. "And we'll get it handled, alright? We can't fix this until you calm the fuck down."

"Richie," Natalie hissed, rolling her eyes in irritation. "Carmen, breath in through your nose, out through your mouth. Innnnn and Out." She mimicked for him, slow pulls of air and soft exhales.

Carmen could hear you. Hear you in his head telling him to calm down, feel your hands on his cheeks, your soft praises and coos. His heart ached but it tricked his mind enough to listen, shaky rasps of air falling in and out until he was on sitting in the chair, knee bouncing with adrenaline.

Natalie shook her head lightly, looking over at Richie, then Carmen. "You need to go talk to her."

"I know. I know, Nat, but I got a dinner rush-"

"Carmen." Natalie sneered, in that tone. The tone she used usually with her own kids. A tone of finality.

"I got it covered, Cousin, alright? I got it." Richie nodded, patting Carmen on his back. "Just... Go figure your shit out."

"Yeah." Natalie huffed, eyes narrowed at her younger brother. "You better bring that poor girl some flowers or something. Better make it up to her, Carmen, that is so gross of you."

Carmen nodded softly, grabbing his back pack, shedding his apron. "I-I'll have my phone on me-"

"-Go!" Richie and Natalie yelled in unison.

"I got it, Cousin." Richie shook his head.

"Yeah, and you have other things to worry about." Natalie snapped. "More important things, like your marriage, and your kid."

Carmen's heart skipped at that. It sounded weird, unnatural. His kid. Mind racing back to images of you with his niece and nephew. How Chelle took to you so naturally when you first met her, cradling her in your arms while Natalie scampered off for a shower. Carmen's heart swelled at the thought, how he had watched you, how good you were at it.

He knew you'd be a good mom. Had no doubt about that. That wasn't the issue. No, the problem was him.

Carmen Berzatto, who's family was the epitome of chaos, and who's genes this baby would have. Would the baby have your eyes and his crippling anxiety? His curls and his coping skills? Your nose and smile, and his family's addiction gene?

You would be the perfect mom. You were already so perfect in every way to Carmen. Too kind and forgiving and funny and sweet to him, he couldn't understand why you loved him sometimes. You would be good no matter what.

You'd be better without him.

His mind screamed it over and over. He couldn't shake the thought last night, sitting on the steps of your home, chain smoking through half a pack while his mind raced, horrible voices mocking and sneering at him, telling him he wasn't good enough; that he wouldn't be good enough. That you would be better off alone.

Then he was walking. Walking as fast as he could away from your home, back to the restaurant, where he could distract himself. Where he could trick his mind to focus on anything else other than you.

It didn't work, of course. It never did.

His mind still raced, all the way back to your home- his home. The home he shared with you. The place you bought for the future; your future together. A future that now, looked like it would be a little fuller.

You gripped the porcelain of the toilet seat, stomach lurching again, spilling the contents of- you didn't even know what. How there was anything left, you weren't sure.

Your nose burned with tears, head drumming with a dull ache, throat burning with the acidity flare of bile. And worst of all, the only person you wanted was Carmen.

You were furious, hurt, just... confused with him, but your body still ached for him. For him to come in, rub your back and coo at you. Settle you and calm you, like he always did.

The front door closed softly, the thud of the latch echoing through the all too still house. Anchovy chirped and trilled, Carmen's soft, raspy greeting back to him making your body jolt.

You stayed still, waiting and quiet with each muffled footstep of Carmen's, his sneakers falling closer and closer until the door opened gently. Your gaze on his, watching him with wide, red rimmed eyes from the bathroom floor. His own reflecting down on you, hand still gripping the door knob.

"You... You're still sick?" Carmen asked, awkward and unsure. He didn't know what to say, where to even begin.

"Yeah." You sneered, hand slapping on the knob, flushing the toilet. "Guess that'll be happening for a while."

Carmen flinched at your tone. You were angry. No, you were hurt. The revelation made him feel like he needed to throw up next, the ache in his stomach rivaling the one in his chest.

You pushed up off the tub, Carmen's hands reaching to help you. You slapped them away with a menacing scoff. "Don't touch me." You snapped. "I've got it."

Carmen nodded, backing out slowly, giving you space to brush your teeth. He didn't miss the tremor in your hands when you held the toothbrush, refusing to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"I..." Carmen's voice shook, a squeak of a word that had wobbled when he spoke. "I, uh, I-I'm sorry."

Your eyes flashed to his furiously, lips pursing. "I know that's... fuck, that's not..." Carmen sighed heavily, a grounding breath to soothe his nerves, get the shake out of his voice. "I don't know what-what else to say other than... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" You sneered, turning to him, your tone unnervingly calm. "You're fucking sorry?"

"Yeah, I-"

"-You left me!" You roared, chest heaving with fury. Your fears and sadness had turned into rage, pure rage.

"I go outside to check on you, and you're gone! Who the fuck does that, Carmen? What the fuck is wrong with you?" You screamed.

"I-I don't know, I just..." Carmen's chest tightened, strangling his words. The pounding in his chest had returned, as had the queasiness in his stomach.

"You just? Just what, Carmen? Just don't want to be with me anymore?" Your voice cracked, tears brimming your waterline.

The silence was back. Uncomfortably loud and suffocating. Neither one of you moved, just stared at each other through heaving chests.

"I-I..." Carmen swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "How could you... You think I-I don't want to be with you?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think, Carmen?" You scoffed, throwing your hands out in exasperation. "You left!"

Carmen winced at the harshness of your tone. "I didn't... I just needed to think-"

"-Think?" You scoffed. "Think about what exactly, Carmen? Huh? Whether you were going to stay-"

"-No! Fuck, no!" Carmen barked, mind racing and overwhelmed. Hands trembling, heart pounding, he stared at you. "About... About how it would be. About how I would be."

"How you would be?"

"Yeah, how I would be." Carmen snaps, a little too defensive even for his own liking. It was habit, even after years of trying to be better, it still crept out at times.

Carmen took a breath, turning to you. "I'm... I don't think I'm going to be a good dad."

Your own heart sunk, a dull ache in your chest, heavy with the weight of his words. The fall of his face, lips curling downward. "Carmen," You said softly. "Why-Why would you... We've talked about having kids before."

"Yeah, but not... I thought I had time." Carmen admitted, hands shaking when he crossed his arms over his chest to still them. "I-I thought I would have some time to-to get my shit together."

You paused, watching his face crumble. The deep breath he took to keep himself from crying- from breaking. "I don't- I don't wanna be a bad dad. I don't wanna fuck this kid up." Carmen whispered, eyes darting everywhere but your own. He couldn't look at you when he said it, sure when he saw the sorrow in your own eyes he would crumble at your feet.

"Carmen," You said softly, taking a step towards him. He took one back, distancing himself. He knew what you were going to do. Reach out and comfort him, make him feel better- he didn't deserve that.

"Carm, please," You begged lightly. "You... You know you're gonna be a good dad-"

"-No, no, I don't know that." Carmen scoffed, shaking his head. "I mean, my fuckin' dad was a piece of shit, so was his dad, so-so will I. And-And I don't wanna do that to this kid. I don't wanna do that to you."

"Stop." You snapped, lips pressed together, sniffling to keep your own tears at bay. "Just...Just stop. Ok? Stop. You're... Do you really think I would have married you if I thought that bad of you? Do you think I would have ever even entertained the thought of having a baby with you, starting a family, if I thought you'd be shitty?"

Carmen's own eyes shone with unshed tears. You blinked, wiping the hot tears that ran down your cheeks away. "I'm scared, too. I-I called Alicia over you because I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how you would react." You admitted.

Carmen nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes. "So you knew I would react like this? You didn't tell me because you knew I'd be a bad-"

"-No, I didn't tell you because I know you don't like surprises." You snapped. "I know you don't like to be fuckin' blindsided and-and shocked. I don't either. I knew it would shock you. I knew it wasn't apart of our plan right now." You held his gaze, eyes hard when you met his.

"But I never thought you'd be a bad dad." Your tone was firm. It made Carmen's heart swell. "I still don't think you'd be a bad dad, for the record. I think you're an asshole, and I'm furious with you." You said pointedly.

Carmen nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I... I don't blame you f'that." He muttered, looking down at his hands, wedding band shining almost mockingly back up at him. "Sugar's pissed at me. Richie, too." He paused, eyes lifting to yours. "I'm mad at me too."

"Yeah? Me too." You sigh, looking at him. "You can't just leave-"

"-I know." Carmen nodded. "I-I know. I don't... I'm sorry." Carmen looked at you, shoulders falling slightly. "I'm so sorry."

You nodded gently, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. "This is not how I thought this would go, honestly." You admitted with a small, wet laugh.

"Which part?" Carmen hummed, hesitantly reaching out to wipe your tear stained cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"All of it." You sighed. "But telling you. I-I always thought I'd do one of those cute, little Pinteresty things and surprise you."

"Yeah? 'm sorry." Carmen muttered, his heart fluttering with guilt again. "Maybe next time?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. Damn him, making you smile when you were supposed to be mad at him- you were still mad at him. But you were tired even more. Exhausted emotionally, physically- you just wanted to crawl into bed.

Carmen pulled you closer to him, his hand running down your spine. "Maybe you can do that cutesy shit to tell everyone else." He suggested. "I mean... Fuck, well, I-I told Richie and-and Sugar, but... Tina? Or all them?"

You bit back a smile, the curl of your lips betraying you. "Yeah." You hum, your body betraying you as you sunk into Carmen's chest.

"Here," Carmen muttered, pulling you close to him. "I'll get you in bed, and I'll go on the couch-"

"-No," You sighed, shuffled steps down the hall. "I don't... Just sleep in the bed with me."

Carmen hesitated. "No, I-I can stay on the couch. I know you don't-"

"-I can't sleep without you, Carm." You pleaded. "I didn't sleep at all last night, and-and... I just want to sleep."

Carmen nodded, following you into the shared bedroom. Stripping out of his jeans, trading them for sweatpants, before climbing in the bed with you. You stayed on your side, Carmen on his own. There was still tension, still lingering feelings of that familiar eeriness, but there was also comfortability.

Carmen would make it up to you. He'd be at every appointment, paint the nursery- be everything you knew he would be. Later. In the coming weeks as you two welcomed, embraced the baby coming. You'd get to tell everyone in your cutesy way like you'd dreamed. Tina's reaction would make you cry, and the baby shower would make you sob. You'd mull over baby names for hours with Carmen, going back and forth, testing each name tentatively until you found the perfect one.

For now, you were happy just to know Carmen was here with you. You were happy just to sleep. There was still so much ahead of you- of both of you.

if you lie down, lie next to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: you and carmen are newly weds, moving into your forever home.

inspired by @carmybears fic assembly required which has been SO heavy on my mind lately mixed with lana del rey's "if you lie down, lie next to me" <3

contains: fluff. just fluff newly weds, alludes at smut, some language, but tooth rotting sweetness and fluff.

“Carmen, I’m not even kidding. Where the fuck did all of this stuff come from?” You groan, collapsing another cardboard box with a huff, shoving it into the pile with the others by the door. “Our apartment was, like, one-fifth the size of this one. The living room was like our whole apartment. How do we have this much shit?” 

Carmen snorted lightly, grinning and unpacking the various pots and pans. New pots and pans- wedding gifts.Your wedding came with an influx of appliances and cookware, gadgets for the kitchen that Carmen bubbled with excitement about. And a margarita maker- for you, of course- courtesy of Natalie Berzatto herself. The old apartment, you barely had space for the dishes and pots you had, let alone new ones. 

So Carmen kept them tucked away, until he got the new place for you. He didn’t have a clue at the time he’d be buying you the Brownstone you were in now, nestled in the heart of Old Town. A good neighborhood, close-ish to the restaurant, zoned in a good school district- a forever home, for the two of you. 

“I mean, most of it was wedding gifts.” Carmen shrugged. “The rest are your shoes.” He teased, a playful glint in his eye when he looked over at you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Ha-ha,” You said sarcastically, bumping him with your shoulder. “Seriously, though, I’m never doing this again. We’re here for life, Berzatto.” 

“That’s the plan, Berzatto.” Carmen nudged you back lightly, leaning to press a sweet kiss to your blushing cheeks, a loving squeeze to your ass when he passed you that left you squealing. 

“The good news is,” Carmen paused, sliding the pot onto the hanging rack over the island, stepping back to admire it. “The kitchen is unpacked.” 

“The most important room.” You hummed playfully. Carmen nodded in agreement, arms slipping around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

“Think we should celebrate?” Carmen grinned. “Christen it?” 

“We already christened it.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Twice- no, three times, already.” 

“Yeah but now it’s done.” Carmen countered. “No more boxes in the way.” 

“I think you can only christen something once.” You give him a pointed look, ignoring the way his crotch is rubbing against your hip. You were still sore from the celebratory round of “putting the coffee table together” from earlier. 

“And I’m starving. Should we order in again?” You hum, looking at the fridge. Nothing but a bottle of champagne and leftover takeout Chinese food. Your stomach turned at the thought. 

Carmen caught your grimace, a hand running soothingly down your back. “If you want. I can run to the store, too. Grab some things for dinner. Break in the kitchen now that it’s done.” 

“I think I like that idea better.” You nod, leaning against his chest, feeling his chain through his t-shirt- the same chain you had tucked between your teeth earlier. Your knees wobbled at the thought. “What are you making?” 

“What’re you in the mood for?” Carmen tilted his head back to look at you. “Can make you whatever, baby, just lemme know.” 

“I am down for anything that doesn’t come out of a box.” You giggle, nose snarling at the Chinese food. “Surprise me, Chef.” You grinned smugly, content at how Carmen’s cheeks flushed with heat. 

“You wanna come with me?” Carmen asked, reaching over to swipe his keys off the kitchen counter. 

You rolled your lips in thought. “I need to shower.” You blink at him sweetly. “I feel all sweaty and gross.” 

“Alright. Need anythin’ else, baby?” Carmen is looking for his phone, patting his pockets and turning in a semi-circle to look around him. 

You roll your eyes, plucking the phone off the coffee table in the living room, passing it to him. He was always losing his phone. You’d begged him to get an Apple watch but he swore it got in the way of his cooking, so you took to texting Nat or Richie- who always had their phones- when you needed him. 

“Something to drink? Unless you want champagne because I’m pretty sure that’s all that’s in there.” You giggle, looking at the fridge. 

Carmen smiled, pulling his hat over his tousled locks. “I got it.” He muttered, leaning to press a sweet, soft kiss to your lips, hands splaying over your hips, pulling you closer and closer into him. 

He always managed to make you swoon like that, cheeks rushing with heat, dizzy and light with love. You hoped you’d always feel like this. Even when you were old and wrinkly and wobbly, you hoped Carmen would still kiss you like that- in this very spot, in this very house. 

“Oh, Cass Elliot?” You grinned, spinning with the vinyl in your hands, brows raised playfully at Carmen. “He has taste.” 

Carmen snorted lightly in laughter, dishrag slung over his shoulder, spooning the sauce over the chicken in the pan. The kitchen was warm, smelling heavily of spices and a dash of citrus. You’d set up the vinyl in the corner by the nook, an old school record player passed down from Carmen’s grandmother. His Nonna Berzatto, who he adored. He had told you about how he’d always go over and help her make Sunday sauce. She had that same vinyl in her kitchen, next to a picture of her parents, and a prayer candle of Mary. It was all he managed to get, keep after she passed and his parents sold everything else that they could. He’d even snagged a few records, though the one you held looked new. 

“Yeah. Thought you liked her stuff?” Carmen muttered, eyes cutting to yours gently. 

“I do.” You grinned, slipping the record out of the protective paper. “How’d you know that?” You lifted the arm of the record player, slipping out the old disk and sliding in the new one, careful of the bouquet you’d just placed by it. Carmen had snagged one at the grocery earlier, surprising you with the beautiful bloom when you’d gotten out of the shower. 

“Because, you told me.” Carmen said simply, checking the asparagus inside the stove. Your heart fluttered. “When we were comin’ back from that trip… The, uh, the one we took to Detroit, remember? You played it on the way back.” 

Your chest soared, filling with that warmth that made your body tingle from head to toe. “You remembered that? That was… two years ago?” 

“Of course I remembered that.” Carmen scoffed lightly, shaking his head at you like he couldn’t believe you’d say something so ridiculous. “You said that, uh, that one song was like the love song to you. So I-I started listening to it because… ya know, it reminded me of you and stuff.” Carmen muttered, cheeks heating at the omission. 

You beamed, lifting the long arm of the record player, letting it softly come to life with a scratch of static before the slow melody filled the room. “You’re sweet.” You hum, arms wrapping around his torso, swaying gently to the familiar medley. “Never would’ve guessed you woulda been this sweet.” 

“Yeah? I’m given’ off asshole vibes?” Carmen laughed, hips turning slightly to face you. 

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “Gave off recluse vibes.” 

“Recluse?” Carmen turned to you. 

“Yeah, like… quiet, shy boy vibes.” You giggle. “You barely spoke to me when I started… and you hired me!” 

“I thought you were pretty.” Carmen shrugged boyishly. “And I thought if I talked to you, I’d throw up or embarrass myself. Also thought there was no way you’d be single. Too pretty and funny and… I dunno, thought you’d never go out with me.” 

“Little did you know.” You grinned wickedly. “I had been stalking you in secret.” Carmen laughed at you. “I thought you were pretty, too.” 

Carmen blushed at your omission, lips twitching in a smile. You swayed lightly, cheek pressed to his chest, letting the soft melody lull you. You remembered the car ride back from Detroit. Carmen was going to some chef expo there, trying to network and get Sydney the star she deserved. You’d agreed to go along. Things were far enough along it was stable, but still new and exciting. Your first real trip as a couple. You’d stayed in a hotel, gone to Carmen’s colleague’s fancy restaurant, went sightseeing and shopping hand-in-hand. You couldn’t help feeling so romantic, shuffling songs from the playlist you listened to when you were getting ready for a date. Old school tracks, filled with symphonies and ballads of love. 

“I think this is almost done. D’you want to grab the glasses and I’ll-” 

“-Let it sit for a minute.” You sigh contently, turning down the heat on the stove top. 

“What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffs in laughter, turning while you pull at him, your hand lacing through his own, tugging him to the open space on the other side of the kitchen island. 

You just smile at him, pulling him close to you. Your hand in his, the other wrapped around and settled on his spine. His free hand followed, sliding down your back. You leaned towards him, chin tilted towards his face, his curls tickling your forehead. You swayed slowly, nothing elaborate or coordinated, just a soft shuffle type sway, Carmen pulled close to you. 

“‘M not good at this.” Carmen’s breath hitched, hand squeezing yours, his thumb gliding over your wedding rings. 

“Yeah, you are.” You hum, nose brushing his. “Best dancer I’ve ever seen.” You mutter, your lips slotting over his sweetly. Carmen’s hand left yours, cupping your jaw and pulling you closer, his lips soft against your own. Your head found his shoulder, dipping into his collarbone, arms wrapped around his torso while he rocked you gently. The sound of Cass Elliot’s voice humming out of the record player Baby, I’m Yours fading into Words of Love. The fan from the stove still buzzing with life, wafting out the steam from the pans, rhythmically merging with the sounds from the street. A relatively quiet neighborhood, filled with quiet cars and the occasional children’s screech from their strollers that pushed by. It was all so calming, the sound of your new home. Sounds you hoped would become familiar overtime and still shared with Carmen.

i'll be so happy loving you |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a two for one special- the proposal and the elopement :) or how you and carmen get married.

contains: language, alludes to sexual references, some smut at the end but not super graphic. mainly just lovey dovey fluff!!!

Six Weeks Earlier 

“Looks pretty in here, bear.” You hum, looking around the newly renovated restaurant. “I love that painting.”  Now that The Bear was bringing in some revenue, Carmen and Sydney could decorate more how they envisioned, tiny touches that made the place dazzle- look and feel more like how they dreamed it would be. 

“Yeah? Like it better than the old one?” Carmen grinned, arms looping around your waist, cheek pressed lazily to your own. 

You melted into his touch, nodding gently. “Yeah. Much better.” You turn so your noses are nearly touching. “A lot better than that watercolor piece.” 

Carmen snorted. “Yeah, I told Sugar it looked weird. Told her we needed fuckin’ abstract or somethin’.” 

You looked at the painting, a configuration of muted lines and colors that somehow fit the aesthetic of the restaurant perfectly. “Yeah, I think everyone will like it. Looks perfect.” You mutter, lips brushing against Carmen’s cheek for a sweet kiss. He shouldn’t have flustered so easily, but how could he not? When you kissed him, looked at him, loved him this way. 

“So what’s on the menu for tonight?” You asked, turning in Carmen’s arms, lazily looping your own around his neck. 

“We’re closed tonight.” Carmen hoped you couldn’t feel the pounding in his heart, running his clammy hands down your waist while your brows knitted together. “Got a private event.” 

“Private event? Ooh, very fancy, chef.” You quipped. “How did I miss that? I swear it wasn’t on the calendar-” 

“-It wasn’t.” Carmen said quickly, far too quickly to be cool and unsuspecting like he’d hoped. You pulled back, a little shocked at his tone, his hands pulling you back to him, running soothingly down your spine. “I mean… It's a private party. A sort of celebration just for all of us. For the staff. Since we’ve been, uh, doin’ so good.” 

You paused for a moment, eyes darting all over his face, trying desperately to read his expression. Carmen hoped you couldn’t see through him, hoped that the lie Richie made him rehearse would work on you. Hoped he wouldn’t ruin this like he ruined everything else. 

“That’s sweet.” Your pursed lips melted into a smile. “I think that’ll be really nice, Carm. That’s very sweet. They deserved it. You deserve it, Carm.” 

Carmen blushed, letting his eyes fall down between the two of you. He was still getting used to that, after all this time, the sweet compliments you gave him freely. Not as an apology or to get something out of him- use it to control him like others had. 

“You deserve it too, y’know.” Carmen could feel his chest beating, rising and stomach turning the way it did when his heat rate picked up. The rational voice in his head was telling him there was nothing to be worried about, but it was a hushed whisper compared to the roar of “what if’s” and self doubting screams that took over. 

Your lips curled in a little smile. You didn’t agree, but you didn’t argue either. Carmen could feel the lurch of his heart flutter back down into his chest. “So, I’ll pick you up at seven?” 

You laughed, brows lifting in amusement. “Oh? It’s a date? Thought this was staff appreciation.” 

“More like a fancy kinda family.” Carmen schmoozed you easily. “But one where you should maybe wear that dress? Or really, whatever you want, but ya know… I’ll be dressed up and so will everyone else. It’s stupid, but-but I wanted it to be nice like the real experience sorta thing-” 

“-Carm,” You cut off his rambling with a hand cradling his jaw, thumb gliding over the stubble on his chin. “I think it’s really sweet. I’ll dress up. Thanks for giving me a heads up. I don’t want to be a jack off in jeans.” 

“A what?” Carmen barked out a laugh. “A jack off?” You frowned, nodding slightly. Carmen bit back his laugh, lips pulling in a wide smile. “It's a jag-off, baby. Gotta let it roll off the tongue.” 

You blushed, rolling your eyes at him to hide your own embarrassment. “You’re a jagoff, Berzatto.” You jammed your finger into his chest, leaving him laughing. 

Present 

“This is it.” Carmen muttered, pushing the creaking door of the house open. You looked around the room, dimly lit with creaking planks of wood for floors. House plants everywhere and the sound of the waves rolling gently on the water outside when the boats cruised by. 

“This is it, hm?” You grinned, looking around while Carmen set the bags down by the door, nervously tracking you. 

“Yeah. It-It’s not a lot, baby, I told you it wouldn’t be. But I-I just… Wait until you see the view in the morning or-or at sunset, when it goes down over the water it’s so clear, you won’t believe it-” 

“-Carmen,” You laughed lightly, a grin so wide your cheeks were hurting. “It’s perfect. Cute, I love it.” You giggled, pushing the blinds open to let the light in. Carmen’s chest aches with the release of tension from hearing that- that you liked it. 

“So where’s this cat?” You hum, ducking under the table and couch to look, eyes scanning the small space of the boat house. 

“The cat that doesn’t exist?” Carmen snorted lightly. 

“You and Marcus say that but I know it’s here.” You hum, scanning the room for a cat door, anyway that the animal might come in and out. “Probably just scared of the two of you.” 

“Kinda the charm of this place, honey. You don’t see the cat. Just feed the invisible cat and water the plants.” Carmen was beaming, watching your frame illuminated by the bright Denmark sun shining in through the windows. 

“Hm, I’m gonna see this cat before I leave.” You declared, checking the cabinets, the hall closets- all the places your own cat liked to hide. Anchovy, you and Carmen’s precious boy, found in the dumpster outside of The Bear. 

Carmen’s lips quipped in a smirk. “I wanna see your cat. How about that, hm?” It was corny, cheesy, made you cringe and laugh and gag exaggeratedly all at the same time; which is exactly why he said it. Arms wrapping around your waist, he pulled you close, lips hovering over yours. 

“Carm,” You sighed gently, a trace of a giggle following with the breathy moan that hitched in your throat when his hands kneaded the fat of your ass. “Thought we had to meet your friend later? I still have to get ready and shower-” 

“-We got two hours, baby.” Carmen purred, tongue running over your bottom lip teasingly, feeling you tense under his touch. “C’mon, we got time. I’ll take a shower with you, too. Save time.” 

You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes. He was insatiable, and you couldn’t blame him. The two of you here, back at the “most beautiful fuckin’ place on Earth” according to Carmen. He looked so good, so pretty. The way the sunlight would catch in his eyes. They were brighter here, bluer. You didn’t know how that was possible, but it was, and it left you clinging to his hand while you strolled down the street, gazing into his eyes positively dopey and love drunk. 

“You gotta be quick.” You pointed at him with an exaggerated glare, already giving in. “Not like last night. We almost missed our flight, bear.” 

“But we didn’t.” Carmen grinned, his breath hot when it trailed down your cheek to your jaw, leaving wet, sloppy kisses in its wake, hands tilting your head back gently to get to your neck. 

Carmen walked you back towards the kitchen table, hands gripping and sliding down your waist up to your neck. “You just look s’pretty. My pretty girl.” 

You blushed, enveloping his lips fully, letting yourself melt into him, maybe he was melting into you- the two of you molding into each other, fusing together like it was your only purpose in life. Your legs around his waist, lying back on the rickety oak table that Carmen assured “It’ll be fine, just relax, baby. I got ya.” His hand in yours while he rolled deeply inside of you, skin to skin, a chorus of whines and mewls mixing in harmony in the kitchen. 

Six Weeks Earlier 

“Oh, looks like we’re early.” You look around the restaurant. The tables were set and lights dim, but only you and Carmen seemed to be the ones in it. 

“Uh, they-they finished late, but, uh, they’ll be here.” Carmen stuttered, hands running down the front of his pants again, eyes darting around the room. 

Your eyes narrowed lightly, but shook it off. Carmen was nervous, he had been for weeks. You thought it was because of the restaurant’s new Michelin star holder status, or maybe because of the countless interviews and press that came with it. Still, that had been weeks ago, the press had died down slightly, and Carmen was still anxious. 

“Ah, good evening, folks.” Richie beamed, sliding behind the hostess stand. “How are the two of you this fine night?” 

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Great, Richie. How are you?” You played along. 

“I am having a lovely night, even better not that you are here.” Richie schmoozed, leaving you snorting lightly at his dramatics. “Right this way.” 

“So what time does everyone get here?” You ask, sliding into the booth. 

“Oh, they’ll be here soon.” Richie said easily, calming your suspicions. “I'll go ahead and get you two started while you wait.” 

“So you didn’t get the night off?” You laugh gently. 

“Someone’s gotta take care of everything, sweetheart.” Richie shrugged. “Champagne? Or is that too early?” 

Carmen’s eyes flashed at Richie. “I just want water, Cousin.” 

If there was any hostility, Richie didn’t seem to notice, simply turning to you. “And for the lovely lady?” 

“Uh, I’m good with water for now too.” You nodded. “I’ll wait until everyone else gets here.” 

“Wonderful.” Richie grinned, eyes cutting in a glare towards Carmen’s. “I’ll be back with that for the two of you.” 

You waited until Richie was gone, turning to Carmen carefully. “Hey, what was that?” You asked. 

“What?” Carmen tried to appear calm and chill, his body tensing beside you. “What-What was what?” 

Your brows furrowed. “Carmen… Are you ok?” You asked, reaching out to grab his hand lightly. His hands were clammy, tensing in yours, and pulling away quickly to wipe the perspiration on his jeans. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“No.” Carmen shook his head furiously. He felt like he might throw up and sob at the same time. Felt like his own heart might just give out entirely. “I’m fine, baby, I promise. I’m just… I’m still trying to figure out the summer menu. Make sure it’s good because we’ve never done that before. That’s what we’re trying tonight, and-and I just hope it’s good, ya know?” It wasn’t a total lie, Carmen was worried about the menu and you were testing it tonight. 

You seemed to believe him, his chest loosening when you scooched closer to him, cuddled together in the booth. “It’ll be good. You know it will, bear.” You hummed, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, laughing when you pulled apart. “Shit, I’m sorry I forgot I have lipstick on.” You giggle, wiping the imprint away lightly off his blushing cheeks. 

“Sorry for the wait.” Richie hummed, dropping the two waters off easily with the new starter for you to try. A classic Mediterranean salad and pita spruced up “Sydney style” as you would say. The term had caught on in the kitchen, finding its way into the names and actions done there. Carmen loved it. Loved the way you said it, the way the staff said it, that it came from you. 

“I’ll leave this here, and I’ll be back with the first course.” Richie smiled. 

“Richie, why don’t you sit with us and try it until the others get here?” You nodded to the spot beside you. 

Carmen froze and so did Richie, the two of them looking at each other for only a moment- but it was a moment too long. Your suspicions rose again, eyes flickering between the two of them. “Ya know, I would love to, but I gotta help the newbies in the kitchen.” Richie said easily. “Gotta make sure they got everything covered. I’m head chef tonight.” 

You didn’t laugh or roll your eyes like you normally would. Instead, you glared at him lightly. Richie’s eyes flashed to Carmen’s. “Alright, well, uh, if the two of you need anything? I’m your guy, alright?”

You waited until he was back in the kitchen, Carmen’s eyes focused on the food, knee bouncing furiously under the table. “Carmen, look at me.” You demanded, turning to him fully. His eyes lifted hesitant towards yours, wide and round like a child caught coloring on the walls. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“Nothin’, baby, I promise.” Carmen said quickly, trying to soothe you but his rigid, frantic tone didn’t help. 

“Carmen-” 

“-It’s nothing.” Carmen said, matching your firm tone. “Just Richie bein’... I dunno what the fuck he’s doin’. Pissin’ me off.” Carmen grumbled, shaking his head. 

“Did you two get in a fight or something?” You pressed. “Is that why you’re being weird?” 

Carmen blinked. “Yes.” He blurted. That wasn’t true, not even remotely. He and Richie had been getting along great, actually, for once. But if it would throw off your suspicions, then he’d gladly throw Richie under the bus- this once. 

“Oh.” You frowned lightly. “Why? I thought you guys were getting along?” 

“You know how Richie is.” Carmen rolled his eyes for emphasis. “He just… He can’t keep his fuckin’ mouth shut.” 

“What did he say?” You asked, reaching for the pita, scooping it in the blended dip of sorts. 

“Just… It was stupid and gross. I really don’t want to talk about it.” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about him. Wanna talk to you. How is it?” 

You hummed, chewing lightly. “Amazing. As always.” You beamed proudly at Carmen. “I told you it would be. You’re the best, bear.” 

Carmen blushed, chewing on his own piece. It was good. Sydney had found the perfect balance, she always did. “Well, this is Syd, not me. Can’t take the credit for this one.” 

“Mm, I thought it tasted very Sydney style.” You giggled. 

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded, hoping you didn’t see the way his hands shook when he took a sip of water. He could barely eat, barely drink around the lump in his throat. “She did most of this, but, uh, I did the dessert.” 

“You did?” You gawked gently. “Not Marcus?” 

“No.” Carmen nudged you lightly. “Well, he helped a little. But it was mostly me. He said I could take the credit on this one” 

“That bad, huh?” You laughed. “Marcus doesn’t even want to put his name on it? Yikes.” 

Carmen rolled his eyes, grinning fondly at you. “I think you’ll like it.” 

You eyed him playfully. “Well, I have high hopes, Berzatto.” 

Me too. Carmen thought, shoving another torn piece of pita in his mouth, hand rubbing anxiously over his pocket again. 

Present 

“So the two of you met in school?” You ask, hand on Carmen’s knee under the table, lightly rubbing over his slacks soothingly. 

“Yes. And he was so much better than me, I thought about dropping out every single day.” Luca grinned playfully at Carmen. “You know, that’s why I went to pastry? Because I knew I’d never compete with Carmen in the other areas, but making a tart? I could outdo him on a tart.” 

“I could never get the crust right.” Carmen shrugged. “Could never figure out how to get it flaky enough. Used to drive me fuckin’ insane.” 

Luca grinned smugly, refilling his own glass of wine. “Well, your chef, Marcus, has got it. Might have it even better than me. Real talent on that one.” 

“Yeah.” Carmen beamed. “He’s good. Real good.” 

“He is.” Luca nodded, before looking over at you. “I’m sorry, darling, I don’t want to be rude, talking about all this cooking nonsense. I’m sure you’ve had enough of that back home.” 

“Oh, no. I love to hear about it.” You beamed, reassuringly. “I wish I could cook like that. You can ask Carm, I’m a hopeless cook. Horrible at it.” 

“No, you’re not, c’mon.” Carmen shook his head lightly at you. “She’s good. Can make a better grilled cheese than any of us.” 

Luca grinned at your blush, the way Carmen pulled you into his side lovingly. It was good to see Carmen like this. The last time, right after Mikey’s death, Carmen was dull. It worried Luca. Carmen had always been tightly wound, anxious, meticulous to a fault, but it seemed to get more extreme- damaging. It was refreshing to see him now. Luca could hardly recognize him, the relaxed, cool man in front of him. No ounce of competition in his tone, his guard down for once. Here with you; happy with you. 

“So, I hope I’m not overstepping, but I have to ask.” Luca said, leaning forward on the table gently. “Why here? Why not at home for the two of you? Not that I mind, at all, of course. I’m honored, but I have to know why here?” 

You looked at Carmen, lashes batting lightly. “Well, Carmen always said it was the most beautiful place he’d ever been. Marcus, too. And… I dunno, I’d always wanted to come, so we figured why not?” 

“This place has always been good for me, ya know?” Carmen muttered, his knee bouncing lightly. “I-I… nothin’ bad has ever happened here like it has other places.” He didn’t need to say it, you both knew. “It’s always been good, and-and I wanna keep the good. We’re already good, I just wanna do it somewhere good, too.” 

Luca nodded slowly, lifting his own wine glass up to the two of you. “Well, then; to keeping the good.” He grinned, his glass clinking against your own when they touched. “And I’m honored to be a part of this, really.” 

“Thank you for bein’ a part of it.” Carmen said, jaw clenched with emotion. “Means a lot, Luca. I, uh, I-I really-” 

“Don’t mention it, friend. I’m happy to. Excited, really, for the two of you.” Luca nodded warmly. 

“We are too.” You grin, beaming up at Carmen lovingly. 

“Yeah… yeah we are.” Carmen hummed, hand sliding down your hip and squeezing it gently. 

Six Weeks Earlier 

“I think it’s great, but you know me, bear. I’d eat chicken tenders every day if I could.” You giggled. 

“Still?” Carmen beamed, eyes dazzling in amusement, huddled into you in the booth like you two were the only two in the restaurant- and well, you were. You hadn’t seemed to notice, thankfully. 

“Thought I finally got you outta that?” Carmen teased. 

“Nuh-uh, no way, bear. I’m still a tender defender-” 

“-Tender defender?” Carmen howled in laughter. 

“Yes! I love chicken tenders, and frankly, your disdain for them is off putting, Berzatto. You should love and appreciate all foods, Mr. Michelin star Chef of the year.” You tickled his side lightly, making him squirm gently, a little blushy under your praise. 

“Yeah, maybe not tenders. Nuggets? I can get behind nuggets.” Carmen hummed, his smile falling gently when he saw Richie come out, holding the small covered tray. His heart hammered, feeling his stomach turn while you still giggled beside him. 

“And dessert is here.” Richie said smoothly, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 

“Ooh, what is it?” You asked, reaching over to pull the cloche off. 

“Eh, eh, hold on.” Richie pulled it away gently. “The Chef,” His eyes cut dramatically to Carmen’s. “Wants it to be a surprise. Wants to surprise you himself.” 

You looked at Carmen, an amused grin on your lips. “Oh, does he?” You quip. 

Richie winked at Carmen, backing away. “Enjoy, you two.” 

Carmen waited until the doors shut to look at you, sure his heart was going to stop entirely. “So?” You lifted a brow, a finger tracing the bottom plate lightly. “What’s the big surprise?” 

Carmen’s heart fluttered in his chest at your smile, wiping his hands one more time on his pants before he grasped the lid, a white knuckled grip so his shaking would still. “You, uh, you remember how Marcus was talking that one time about the cake he had in Copenhagen? And how-how it was the best thing he’d ever had?” Fuck, he was stuttering, his mind racing, and his hands were clamming all over again. 

“Yeah, the sponge one, right?” You asked, nodding gently. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the one.” Carmen nodded. “So, uh, I was thinking… You should try it.” 

“Oh?” You grinned, eyes flashing to him excitedly. “Is that what this is? Carmen, that’s so sweet-” 

“-No.” Carmen shook his head, watching your face fall in confusion. “Fuck, I mean, yeah, it is- it’s- I’m just-” Carmen took a deep breath, trying to still his nerves, stop his ramblings. “I think you should try it for yourself,” His hands shook when he pulled the lid off, revealing the plate. 

You gawked, looking at the tiny sponge cake, covered in a thin layer of chocolate separating the many layers, a dollop of cream of some sorts on top. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. No, it was the two tickets sticking out of the top, plane tickets to Copenhagen. 

“Carmen…” You gasped lightly, looking at him with bright eyes that made his heat leap. 

“I think you should get to try it for yourself, there.” Carmen grinned. “I-I want us to go together and try it.” 

“Carmen, oh my god, this is-this is just… You’re so fuckin’ sweet.” You grin, hands grabbing his cheeks, pulling him into you in a hard kiss. One that had his mind stilling, body melting to yours. Kissing you always made him feel like that. Like he had no other purpose than to just kiss you, and to him, maybe he didn’t. 

“This is so sweet. I-I can’t wait!” You squealed, hugging him tightly. “Oh, I want to go to that restaurant your friend works at! And maybe we could go to those gardens? I saw them on TikTok and I’ve wanted to go so badly since then.” 

Carmen nodded, your head on his chest, he was sure now that you could hear his heart still hammering. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. Whatever you want to do.” His eyes closed, taking a cleansing breath. Carmen looked at you, the excitement in your eyes. It’s now or never, Berzatto. Let it rip. 

“There’s, uh, o-one more thing I’d like to do.” Carmen shuddered, sliding away from you gently, his hand slipping in his pocket as casually as he could. 

You were bubbly, positively giddy with excitement, you didn’t even notice it. “Yeah? What else? Anything, baby.” 

Carmen fought back a tiny laugh, his sweaty hand clasped in front of you, free one taking your hand. “I, uh, I-I… I wanna marry you?” 

Your breath hitched, body stilling. You were sure you’d heard him wrong, grip tightening in his. “W-What?” 

Carmen’s hand opened slowly, revealing the ring, dazzling even in the low light of the restaurant. Your breath hitched, falling out of your lungs sharply at the sight. 

“I wanna marry you.” Carmen repeated, steadier this time even of the rapid fire beats of his heart. “I mean, I want to marry you even if it’s not there, but-but we talked about a destination wedding if we ever did… And-And I… I can’t imagine living another day without you. I have never loved anything- anyone the way I loved you. Never been loved the way you love me, and… I want to do it every single day for the rest of my life.” 

Your lip wobbled, tears pricking your eyes as Carmen picked up the ring, holding it between his pointer and thumb. Your eyes flickered back to his. “You're the best person I’ve ever met; I ever will meet, baby. You’re-you’re fun, and you’re caring and sweet, and you always are so good to me. Even when I don’t deserve it.” 

“Carm-” 

“-No, I mean it. You are. You are the best. And I love you so much, it-it makes my fuckin’ chest hurt sometimes how much I love you.” Carmen let out a breathy laugh. Your own watery laugh bubbled out of your chest, making your lip wobble, tears streaming down your face. 

“I want to go to Copenhagen with you, and-and I want to go to France with you, and- fuck, I wanna go everywhere and do everything with you for the rest of my life.” Carmen rambled, his own eyes glassy when they looked into yours. 

He said your name, letting each syllable roll off his tongue, your own heart squeezing with joy. “Will you marry me?” 

Your throat felt strangled with emotions, a wet sniffle and a tiny squeak of a cry falling from your lips. “Yes.” You nodded, your own hand shaking in his. “Yes, Carm, yes. I’ll marry you, yes.” 

“Yes?” Carmen was sure he was hallucinating; dreaming, maybe. Had to be. But yet, there you were, wiping your eyes, nodding and giving a watery laugh that had his heart aching in the best way. 

“Yes, Carmen, are you kidding me? Yes. Of course, I’ll marry you.” You muttered, your hands finding his jaw easily, pulling him for another kiss that had his head reeling, a small sob passing through his lips onto yours. 

Carmen fumbled through his own teary sniffles, hands shaking with adrenaline when he slipped the ring on, your foreheads pressed together. “Holy shit, it’s… it’s beautiful, Carmen.” You gawked, pulling the ring up to see it. The design, the cuts, it screamed Carmen in the best way- made your lip quiver all over again. 

“Yeah? I-I designed it, and I just… It looked like something you’d like.” Carmen muttered, turning to wipe his eyes. 

“I love it.” You beam. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” Carmen whispered, hands cradling your wet cheeks, moving sweetly back to you. 

“So,” Richie’s voice interrupted, halting the two of you. You turned, seeing the staff standing excitedly behind him. “Do you want the champagne now?” 

Present 

The ceremony was a whirlwind. The two of you, standing hand in hand in the Copenhagen City Hall. Carmen in a suit, sans tie, a blue gray sort of jacket that made his eyes pop even more, if that was possible. You,  in your wedding dress, casual and short but still so pretty. You knew when you saw it that it was the one. A tiny veil and a bouquet of flowers, Carmen had surprised you with this morning, your ring dazzling. 

Luca passed you the ring, a warm smile when you took it, repeating the vows to Carmen before you slipped it on his inked finger. A couple signatures and a kiss later, and the two of you were married- married. The photographer you’d hired snapped photos in the garden out front, Luca gifted you a bottle of Jouet and well wishes. 

Carmen carried you through the threshold, insisted on it, scooping you up and kicking the door open while you squealed and giggled. The two of you were giddy, climbing on a high of adrenaline and oxytocin. 

Carmen kissed you in the kitchen, his wife. His hand cradled your cheeks, your hand slipping over his, rings scratching lightly- metal on metal. A reminder that it was real- this was real. 

For the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto. 

For the first time tangled in the sheets with his wife. Feeling your lips against his, your fingers in his hair, diamond scratching his scalp when your fists curled. His ring left an imprint on your thighs when he gripped them. 

Carmen’s head was buried between your thighs, lapping at your dripping heat like his heart might give out if he didn’t. “Oh! Carm, right there, right there…” You hummed, eyes fluttering, and back arching off the creaking bed. You didn’t care that it shook, part of you hoped you'd break it. 

Carmen could barely hear, your thighs clamped around his head like earmuffs. He was in his own ecstasy driven state, high off the day's events and his love for you, mindlessly lapping at you until he felt your hands push him away. 

“What?” Carmen panted, your slickness coating his mouth, pupils blown with lust. “What’s wrong?” 

“Look,” You whispered, pointing to the corner of the room. 

Carmen turned, hands still gripping your thighs, neck craning to see. There at the edge of the door, two blinking eyes gazed back at him. An orange tabby, perched and clicking back at the two of you curiously. 

“No fuckin’ way.” Carmen muttered, cheek resting against your thigh lightly. 

You giggled, running a hand through his hair. “Told you! He’s probably just scared of you.” You hummed. 

Carmen snorted lightly, standing to coax the cat out gently before he shut the door. He didn’t need you distracted or worse; the cat jumping up on the bed while you two were going at it. 

“Can’t believe that fuckin’ cat’s real.” Carmen grinned, shaking his head lightly. 

“He’s just scared of you and Marcus. I must have good energy.” You beamed playfully. 

Carmen rolled his eyes, pushing you back lightly on the bed. “Just lay back f’me, alright? Let me take care of you, baby.” 

You purred, hips grinding into his touch. “Yes, Mr. Berzatto.” You giggled, back arching when he licked a long, flat tongue stripe through your drenched folds. Copenhagen was better than you could have imagined, even better now. Weeks later, you’d frame the photo of the two of you in the garden, grinning fondly at the memory. At your husband. At your life together with him now and forever.

Maybe I'm just not built for this, right? Maybe that's okay. Maybe that just is.

02.02 ― 02.09 THE BEAR

02.01 ― "Beef" THE BEAR