love my way. 𔘓
carmen berzatto x f!reader (long and slight canon-divergent) (+18)
ֶָ֢ ˚˖𓍢ִִ˚ ‧🌌‧ 𔘓 ⋅
summary: he got fed up, so he ran away with the girl he miraculously met late night at a bar.
contents: love at first sight. mental instability. mentions of nicotine addiction. mention of self-harm and suicidal ideation. fluff. soft porn. eventual soft smut. oral sex (f receiving). p in v sex. creampie. sex in backseats. reader has a bakery that is also a flower shop. title based off 'love my way' by the psychedelic furs. wrote this for myself but wanted to share it with you beautiful people.
warning: this is based off a dream i had about carmy crashing out in the middle of the night then meeting a girl at a bar and running away with her. this is kinda self-indulgent and wrote it for myself originally but decided to share it here and adapted it to be a reader insert, i'll be writing more x readers in the future.
this was originally written in spanish so if there's typos you can blame on it.
disgusting.
can this be called that? of fucking course, he simply couldn't bear it anymore, he was done pretending it was fine to overexploit his mind with endless menus to not overexploit it with his own mental imbalances. carmy rubbed his face with both hands before passing his ruined fingers over his messy curls, swallowing with all his will the urge to not let that painfully tight knot in his throat torn apart, making his beautiful features become a tearing mess in the middle of the street at midnight.
but oh what a failure, he let go of the knot instead of waiting for it to tear off, it fucking hurt to hold back tears, it felt like chocking out of air. he fell on his knees, embracing himself like a lost child in a middle of a silent city which felt too loud, he wasn't even sure if he was completely alone, if there was someone hearing his pathetic cries echoing through the quiet buildings. he longed for it to be like it.
how much cigarettes would be enough to die intoxicated by nicotine? it's not a question he was asking himself, but someone else, down the street, at the third floor of a modest apartment on top of a bakery that also sold flowers. after three glasses of liquor, another cracked mind had been smoking nonstop for two hours straight, the smoke was the least of it, your eyes were horribly puffy and red as a consequence of those two uninterrupted hours of nicotine and tears. you should have fallen asleep as soon as midnight struck instead of going out for more liquor to whatever still open bar that late at night, you ran out of triptans, common painkillers didn't help at all, if you continued this way the the migraine wouldn't go away at any moment.
you know? beautiful coincidences happen sometimes, neither of you stopped to think if this was some kind of miracle or the holy randomness of the universe, which is possibly the same thing but still, you also didn't stop to think about consequences, fuck consequences actually, you were so deep into it by then. when carmen barely grounded himself he was still walking towards the neon light of a still-lit sign pending off the side window of a bar, empty enough from the inside to not be disturbed.
It would have been easier with michael here, not only for him, but for everyone else, when he took over at the beef his life went straight to hell like the universe just crushed the entire weight of reality on him. and he swore to himself that he had tried, he really tried everything, that was something he was well aware of, but the entire world just demanded so much from him, like he hasn't had enough trying to keep himself in a single piece instead of dealing with the things that kept broking him.
he's selfish, right now he knows what he's thinking about is selfish but he simply doesn't care, everyone always demanding so much from him, now it's time for him to demand something back, everything on that goddamn kitchen had been eating him alive.
"to hell with kitchen, to hell with the beef, to hell with all of you."
the knot threatened to tear up again. as soon as the glass slid down the mahogany and hit his elbow he drank all the liquor in one gulp, growling when the alcohol burned on his throat, but it eased the tension, then breathed as deeply and heavily that the bartender turned a side-eye on him, surely out of pity. he wouldn't normally have allowed himself to look this vulnerable in front of just anyone, but he was so tired, so motherfucking tired. a good cigarette is what mattered now, nicotine as always, his only friend right now, didn't asked him for nothing complicated, nothing he couldn't offer.
and god, how he gave thanks to heaven for arriving there, some kind of miracle, a deserved break. carmy put a cigarette on his lips, beautiful rosy lips, lighting it with a quick spark of his zippo, nicotine never late at taking effect on his tense muscles. and the miracle happened, 'and there was light' just as god had said, his mind turned to reflecting on all the decisions that had led him to this exact point, a giant butterfly effect that had envisioned with the death of his brother is culminating here, at seven seats of distance, your fingers trembling trying to lit the cigarette attached to chapped lips tinted red with a lighter that ignored your pleas, burned hands with some of the marks already healed, half your face hidden by hair and god, you looked sick, so sick he felt panic.
got even more panicked when his mind realized that he had shifted from looking at you from afar to practically hold your wrist in between his fingers, terrified of squeezing too much and hurting you, while he lighted the cigarette in your torn lips with his own lighter. he can't allow himself to let you go, he liked the texture of your skin on his fingers, soft parts contrasting rough ridges of burns and horizontal scars in your wrist, touching it like you were made out of porcelain. and you lost yourself in this sudden show of understanding and affection send by the stars, or even send by angels themselves.
he breathed in the scent that came from you, vanilla and nicotine, flowers and bread, like it was normal to smell a stranger's hair in a bar at two a.m, but you leaned in, in his embrace, surrounded by his strong and tired arms, two strangers that never crossed each other before. carmen didn't overlooked the way you almost broke into tears the moment he held you against his chest, it made him want burst into tears too, but instead, he kissed your forehead, rubbing your back to soothe you.
"no no no no please, don't cry please, I just met you..."
he had just met you and didn't want to see you cry, you had longed for so long for an angel, this angel to care for you while you were in a stretcher with tubes draining all the turpentine out of your entrails, or when you almost found yourself in thanatos' arms, and oh he was so alike the paintings of hypnos, the greek god of dream, it must be why you felt this goddamn at ease.
is this where all of carmy's tragedies headed to? to the arms of this beautifully imperfect woman? is it you the answer to all those years of psychological torture? then be it, he accepted you, accepted you and loved you instantly. in seconds he took you by the hand through the streets, wide awake in the wee hours of the night.
it didn't take long for you both to end up in the back seats of your beat-up truck, parked at a scenic overlook with that song blasting from the stereo. a long make-out session full of touches and curled tongues, before pulling down your jeans and panties and licking your pussy like the sweetest delicacy without taking his precious sapphire eyes off yours, rolling his tongue and sucking between his lips, practically making out with your pussy.
you have no count of how much times you came on his tongue, and he drank it all every time. and in the aftermath, after he spend all the rest of his energy fucking you slowly, moaning into your mouth, looking at you as his orgasm unraveled and spilled it all inside of you while finally tears of pleasure came from both of you. you were now resting half asleep in his chest, him caressing your back under the blanket covering both your naked and tired bodies in that backseats with some time left until dawn.
he could get used to this.
ֶָ֢ ˚˖𓍢ִִ˚ ‧🌌 𔘓 ⋅